Alright you outsiders, gather round, and listen to story of the great R. Stevie Moore’s reissue of “Kaffeeklatsch.” See, this here C90 was o...

Rigel Magellan, yes? OFK. This is the love album, R.M. Gellin style. Sounds like our boy Rigel’s been huffing glue with the Ween boys these...

“Gold Chain,” melted down like Velveeta, drip nasty over the concrete streets, sneaks pound cluelessly under cloudless skies. Perfect Jac...

Like some unholy quadforce forged in the heart of Mt. Doom (and shut up I can mix up my fantasy references if I want to), 4 WAY SPLIT seem...

The question, “Are you Team Rigel Magellan or Team Ropal Jagnu” used to eat at us just like choosing either the Beatles or the Stones did in...

No data cannot incriminate you. Where no information lives, there nothing can learn anything about anybody. Turn off your smartphone, y...

 These cuts are the scraps. What, the music, or the meat? I don’t even know anymore. I’ve been accustomed to Cheap Meat for a while now,...

Ever wonder what your guts sound like when represented by musical instruments? Ropal Jagnu surely has. They/he/she/it (I’ll go plural “...

The band’s name says exactly what it means to say, and as a listener, you should set your expectations accordingly. You don’t wander int...