David Bowie: 1947-2016

What horrible news today. Death often makes you think "what am I doing with my time"? But he was one of the few who made you think that while he was still alive... a constant warning against stagnation, thinking narrowly, leaving stones unturned. An artistic explosion if there ever was one.

On a personal note, David Bowie was the first great artist I paid attention to and he's remained the greatest fascination since. There would certainly be no Lapin without his influence. I can only wonder what more boring direction my mind would have gone to without him intervening. For many others, I'm sure this is the case. He changed more than music but awoke something out of the human race that nobody else was looking for and elevated us to a higher level.

His new album is a conceptual masterpiece. Listening to it several times this weekend, I hadn't picked up on the obvious. Listening again this morning was incredible. What a way to go out.

You'll echo forever. Enjoy immortality, wherever you are...


Look at this genius ponder his imminent death: 

Eskimo/Lapin leaps into the new year with wild abandon...

By Dandiford Lion

After 1 solid year of life in its new home of Vermont, USA, artist enclave Eskimo/Lapin announces news of a propitious nature this New Years Eve...

ITEM ONE: Disques de Lapin, in self-celebration of its 10 year anniversary in 2016, announces the birthday explosion entitled DECADE DE LAPIN. This one day festival will take place on Saturday April 2nd at the Hooker-Dunham Theater of downtown Brattleboro, VT. Acts confirmed to perform are David E. Williams, Destroying Angel, Jawzwa, Jerome Deppe, Oval Portraits, Polly Eurothane, Thomas Nöla and Wisteriax (along with an unnamed surprise performer). I, Dandy Lion, shall be the events master of ceremony. Admission is $10 for the entire day. Formal attire is requested.

Why not purchase your ticket today?

Decade de Lapin ticket
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ITEM TWO: To further celebrate this illustrious milestone, Disques de Lapin shall also be releasing a birthday compilation entitled "The Official Disques de Lapin 10 Year Anniversary Kit For Homes w/Instruction Manual". It will undoubtedly be overflowing with your favorite underground musical sensations. This limited edition, cassette-based kit will be released on April 2nd at DECADE DE LAPIN. All the more reason to attend.


ITEM THE THIRD: An enigmatic self-titled cassette release by Polly Black will also see the light of day this April 2nd. No further explanation will be provided at this time.


ITEM D: Thomas Nöla will conclude his animal trilogy this February 5th with an exhibition of prints and other images entitled ANIMAL GEOMETRY at Brattleboro's Brink Gallery. Featuring screen prints, linocuts, illustrations and paintings from the last 18 months, ANIMAL GEOMETRY opens on the First Friday walk and remains on display through February.  The Brink Gallery is located at 14 Elliot St. Brattleboto, VT. More details are HERE.


Golly, that's a whole lotta news to digest. I'm going to go back to my cage and ponder it all. Talk to you soon.

Yours in Zeus,
Dandy Lion

John Murphy - 11.VII.59 - 11.X.15

It was a pleasure knowing you and sharing a few stories and meals. We tip our hats to you. - Lapin

Please see the release note below from John's group KnifeLadder. All sales of this album will go to help his wife Annie pay funeral costs along with other likely costs to come:

As some of you will already be aware, our great friend and co-conspirator John Murphy passed away over the weekend. He provided us not only his percussive power and inspirational improvisation with electronics, synthesisers, loop pedals, guitars, bells, scrap metal, Kaoss pads – whatever he could get his hands on – but a genuine passion for all music, an infectious laugh and smile that would light any room he was in. Anyone meeting John could not forget him (or his tales – tall and otherwise). He never asked for much – just a chance to compose, create and perform. A true artist. He leaves us with a wealth of music spanning five decades but also leaves a huge chasm in the wide circle of friends and musicians in which he moved. Amongst those, his lovely wife Annie.

And it is for this reason that we are releasing an album for which ALL proceeds will be provided to enable her to pay for funeral costs, medical bills and to support her over the comings weeks and months. “This World on Fire” was several years in the making and due to be released and toured early 2016 – something he was very much looking forward to. Some tracks made appearances in earlier albums but these are all exclusive, original pieces and feature the wide array of talents John possessed. For reasons of expediency this is a download only release but is available in high quality lossless formats as well as MP3. There is a fixed price for the album however you are free, and encouraged, to pay as much as you like in order to help us provide Annie with as much help and support as we can provide in any way we can.
John will be greatly missed.

All hail the God-King!
Andrew & Hunter

Twink - "Dust Bunny" out now...


With glockenspiel & mini trombone, Twink explodes onto your turntable with his first vinyl release. Comes on random splatter vinyl.

  1. Emberglow
  2. Thistle Bliss
  3. Hem & Haw
  4. Fox Tuft
  5. Salt Circle
  6. Pipper Snitch
  7. Whirl Wisp
  8. Sun Drizzle
  9. Sparklemuffin
  10. Whale Speck
  11. Fossil Blossom

A Closer Listen
Yeah I Know It Sucks
Boston Hassle
Boston Becomes Eclectic

Also available digitally via the Twink Bandcamp.

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Somewhere in Vermont sounds happened...

by Randy Lion

8.31.2015 - VERMONT, USA - Randy Lion reporting here from the rolling mountains of Vermont. As one of the live music correspondents for The Lapin Herald, I am often asked (if not compelled by the threat of having my employment terminated) to attend concerts and report back on my reactions in text form. Today is one of those circumstances.

Despite the desire of the inhabitants to remain asleep, this bird signaled a new day in the stereotypical manner of his ilk.

Despite the desire of the inhabitants to remain asleep, this bird signaled a new day in the stereotypical manner of his ilk.

My limo arrived at the private confines of the Summer's Wane festival Friday afternoon and as the chauffeur opened my door, I put down my glass of Cristal and looked out at the many trees and wild, naturesque things creeping about. Mr. Bundlesworth told me that he would park in the parking lot reserved for the press and pointed me in the direction of the VIP area.

"Coming through, reporter coming through," I stated, while swiping at anyone standing between me and the center of the action. I had a story to cover and the niceties of human courtesies were, to me, a luxury that I could not afford.

I met a man wearing a festooned vest and cutoff shorts.

"Tell me, what's the crux of this weekend's activities? Feel free to use your coarse man-about-town parlance." It was with this request that the man in question fled for a goblet of wine. I summoned Bundlesworth to erect a tent for shelter purposes. I would take the tent for myself while he waited at the ready in the limo at all times with the engine running. Just in case.

Humans gathered in a sort of "amuse me with your arranged sound and words" attitude.

Humans gathered in a sort of "amuse me with your arranged sound and words" attitude.

A communal dinner began in the early evening with people eating a bit of this, a bit of that. You know what eating is. I needn't elaborate. Music began shortly after with a variety of fine folks performing fine folk. A bodhran here, a violin there, the human vocal chords creating sounds and conveying ideas. Again, you know what music is.

There were great acts... The Change, Not Work, The Hindenburg Child, Cult of Kids. I give them all high marks. The night crescendoed with DJ Janet Aldi's spinning and a large explosion, if I remember correctly. Then the attendants retired to a night of slumber and possibly a morning of alcohol induced dehydration sickness. 

On Saturday, I made my way out of the tent and past a trio of chickens who hovered godlike above me, eyeing me like a trough of whatever chickens eat. "Scram, birds. I've got a music and culture festival to review for a periodical."

The land was beginning to wake and fast-breaking procedures were engaged to avoid starvation. Soon enough, more music began. Included in the early part of the day was a singer songwriter from Annapolis, I beleive... Jeremy Deep was his name. Loved it. Later came Tommy Nylon and later still was Disorganizing Cherub, I think. Some great acts followed... Bedtime, The Bloody Moons, Karma Ripper and The Profound Knight. Loved each one of them. Some guy named Davey Wilson came up and started singing about how much he admired Robert Mugabe. Gotta be honest, that was inappropriate (though, I bought the album).

Next up was an act from Oslo, Denmark: The Moon And A Wand. Fearing that his act would shame me with its brilliance, I spiked his lemonade with severe hallucinogens and told him it was a vitamin drink I made. Despite the poisoning, his performance closed the night on a note of victory.

In a state of confused frustration, I wandered the nearby woods in pitch black darkness until the dawn came and I realized what I was doing. I found my way back to the grounds of Summer’s Wane. “What’s to eat!” I stated, regardless of the fact that it should have been in question form.

“Nothing for you, pygmy,” replied the cook. “Where’s your wristband?”

“I’m with the press, no need for me to pay the required entrance fee.”

“To the contrary. Pay up, just like everyone else,” they replied.

“Did those dogs have to pay to get in?” I retorted.

These dogs were very well behaved and completely quiet.

These dogs were very well behaved and completely quiet.

“Indeed. Pay up. And while you’re at it, put on some pants. This isn’t that kind of festival.”

Noticing my misreading of the situation vis-a-vis payment for a ticket and the nudity faux pas, I sprinted over to Bundlesworth and leapt into the back of the limo.

“Hit the gas, peon! We’ve gotta split.”

As we drive the backroads of Vermont, looking for the correct route back to Lapin Acres but too proud to ask for directions, I reflect back on Summer's Wane with fondness, hunger and (now) pants. Reporting for The Lapin Herald, I am still Randy Lion.

Owl bet you wish you attended.

Owl bet you wish you attended.

New Dandy Lion shirts...

Dandy Lion shirt

A T-shirt with Dandy Lion's beautiful face looking out from your chest at other people. Limited sizes and quantites.

The yellow and red shirts are made in the USA. The black shirts are imported. 

Size and color:
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Out now on Disques de Lapin... "Animal Soul" and "Animal Clouds" by Thomas Nöla & the Black Hole

"Animal Soul"
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"Animal Soul" contains 11 songs seemingly from different continents and different times. Some from the peak of Kilimanjaro, others from an ancient American plain, others still maybe from a Vietnamese jungle... some from nowhere at all. Each randomly mixed splatter vinyl LP is housed in a hand-printed chipboard jacket with a lyrics sheet and download card.

A1 - That Zebra Zeal
A2 - Violet Renard
A3 - Scarecrow
A4 - Brasilite
A5 - Dome
B1 - Secret Magic
B2 - Tipi
B3 - Irrelevant Shapes
B4 - Dray Horse
B5 - Animals As Children
B6 - Yellow River

Encore - I Want To Live In A Wigwam (digital only)

"Animal Clouds"
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"Animal Clouds" consists of instrumental mood music on a limited edition colored cassette housed in a hand-printed chipboard arigatopak with a digital download.

A1 - Dutch Architecture
A2 - Mineral Life
A3 - Añil
A4 - Giraffes In Denmark
A5 - Fear Of Wind
A6 - Yoshimoto
B1 - Tropic Of Scorpio
B2 - The Dragline
B3 - Black Owl Wax
B4 - Hidden Life Of Slumber
B5 - On Vardo Cloud
B6 - African Islands

Here are some other samples from these albums...

Both albums are available in Le Shoppe. If you'd prefer a digital download or to pay with Paypal, try the Lapin Bandcamp.

Thomas Nöla will be performing an album release concert tonight at Jacques Underground, Boston along with an outdoor festival in Northern Vermont in August and in Philadelphia in September.

Jawzwa playez sum sissyboy musics and I seed it in person

by Phlebus Clay

11.9.2014 - WINTHRUPP & DORCHESDAR, MA - Phlebus hear agin. So's, as you all know, I'm the live musics editer here at the Lapin Herald. That mean I go out two concertz an then tell you how it make me feel on the insides and such. Well, this wekend was no axe seption. They tells me "Phelbus, you gots to take you a bus out t'wards the Boston aria and make your way up to some place cald Wintripp."

"Why that is?" I questioned back to them. They saysd Jawzwa was playing a shoe there in some fine stablishment. I says, OK, but I needs my purdeem up front for living expenses. The big city aint cheap. I'd bee loukin at upwards of $40 per night for lodging aloan. Up in that carpetbagger part of the country they probably make me sip lahtays and kiss men on the lips by law. I aint know what to expect.

So's the Grayhownd drops me off in downtown Boston, right? And the guy... well's, I thinked he was a guy... in the infomasion boof telled me I got to go northbound on one of there unnergrownd locomotives and then get on anuther buss. I says "well that's fuckin retarded. I was jussed on a goddamn buss. Why he aint taked me there direct-like?" They start jabberin away some nonsense about the city having a bunch of different busses what go in different diretshins. I's like, "you spect me to be leaf ure fancypants town has multi-pull busses?" Sounded fucking stoopid then, sounds fuckin stoopid now. Alls the same, I found my way to this sipposid "Winthrip". No thanks to the MBTA, honistly.

I got into the goddamn place roundabouts 8PM. It's like, where the fuck everyone at? The place was dead as fuck, so I'm like "bartender, aint you done promotions?" He shuck his head and gave me some goddamn cosmopolitin to drink. Mind you, I ordered a pint of Golden Anniverzeree, but they said alls they had was cosmos or "chocotinis". I gues I got the lesser of too evils. Tasted like momma's nale polish remover, but inn a bad weigh.

8:15 roles around and some fello goes up on the stage (cept weren't rely a stage, more like a part of the restaurant where folx wasn't sitin) and starts tappin away at his like computer box machine and drums start a playin'. I's like, how that be? Back home ifn' we want drums, we gotta call up one of the Percy boys from up the road and he comes by with a snare straped to his chest bangin' away like his grategrategranduncle did at the Battle of Pea Ridge. But the Percy boys are a bit ruff around the ejis, so we don't call them much. We just play our songs on the bango and Jew's harp, but I degress...

This guy "Jawzwa" starts playing some things and singing bout his emotions and whatnot. Their was noises in betwixt the numbers. Not my cupatea. I had to all listen hard for the chorus and it was all like, stuff I wasn't expectin on, so it made me uncumfrtroble. I yeled out for him to maybe do a Creadince song or too, but he ingored me. By the fith song, I was all "bartender, get me anothr cosmo cuz it's gonna be a long night." But soon as I thought things was bleke, he finished up with a version of the Golden Girl theme song, like from the begining of the TV shoe.

Man, I loved the Golden Girl. It all ways made me giggil. So I gess the evening wasn't a total loss.

After the shoe, I headed back to the motor lodge to catch some shuteye. Cept, when I woke up, ready to head back home, I got a call sayin I had to hang around town a whiles longer and rite about another Jawzwa showe what was gonna happen on the upcoming Saturday. Grate, I thought... I gotta kill a hole weke in a citie I aint even no, and with no money to speak of (purdeem was spended alreddy on the cosmos).

So I thought I would look round at all the histrical stuff Boston has to ofer. Like the Poll Revear statue and whatnot. Well, I takled that in about 3 ours and weren't much imprest. I spent the othar 6 days more or less layin' low in the alleywayz.

Saturday aftornune comes around and I find mysef in the Dorchestar nayb or hood. A rele rachaelly diverz sorta place. Like downtown Little Rock. I got into the hall wear the Jawza things was sippose too go down. I relay licked this place. Much bettor than the Winthripp one. All the people at this shoe were on my level. They served my kinda bere and the opening act was grate. They war them caps like papa wears and some sports t-shirts and man was they lowd! Nocked my socks of. No what else was grate? There hole preformins was full of the kinda angor I can relaid too and they let me now rite off the bats what they ethnocentrificle back ground were. I was all, NOW THIS I LICK!

But then Jawzwa pranced up to the mike.

Yup, you guest it... more computer bleeps, delokit guitarring and senyouall vocals. I's like, BRING ON THE FIRST BAND! But know, it was more Jawzwa. Middleweigh through his set the deejay comes up and cuts him off, tellin the oddy yens we gotta anouns the rafle winners. I was rele excited cause I bought about $1,000 worth of tickets on credit, nowing that I was shore to win. Well... to make a long storey sured, I got zilch. Not even the fancy new 14" TV with a built in VCR that I was dreamin over. I'd like, "FUCKIN HELL! WHY ME?" The bartender came round axing me for the money I borrowt, so I skeedaddled on outta there and ran to the Greyhound station.

In concluson, Jawzwa aint all he crakt up to be. But that opening act... them I like rele gud.

Lapin: New Ô Paradis album and tribute disques set for November 2014. Wold holds breath in anticipation.

by Dandiford Y. Lion

9.23.2014 - BARCELONA, SPAIN - From the rolling hills north of this Catalan metropolis comes a new collection of Mediterranean poetic pop. The preceding years have shown this one man recording act to be a versatile, surprising and highly personal project by the enigmatic Demian. This November brings both a new Ô Paradis album entitled Nacimiento and a tribute CD featuring interpretations of Ô Paradis songs by his friends and contemporaries around the world. This tribute, Nada Que Perder: Una Celebración de Ô Paradis, includes covers by notable artists such as David E. Williams, Naevus, Mushroom's Patience and twelve others. This reporter has been provided with an advance promo of both this and Nacimiento, and I must say... good golly. What an action-packed joyride.

Upon landing at Barcelona's Demian Nada Intergalactic Spaceport, I quickly ran through customs despite the protests of security mercenaries. "No time to talk, kids. I've got an important interview to conduct," I clarified. I jumped into a rental hovercraft, threw its owners to the curb and jettisoned off to a nude beach to catch a bit of sun. Several hours later, I recalled the purpose of my trip and redirected myself to Demian's mountainside compound.

The artist's residence at first struck me with a sense of awe at its understated elegance and electrified razorwire fencing. "Nasty business that would be," I noted inwardly. "I'll take the old-fashioned route and gain ingress via finger-centric doorbell activation methods." I rang.

"¿Como?" asked the help through the intercom.

"Dandy Lion here from the States. I'm looking to pick Demian's brainian."


"Au contraire, servant. I'm gonna be meeting the lord of the house whether you like it or not. Now, we can do this the easy way, or I can resort to violence. Being a peaceful man, I say let's go with option A. Otherwise, I'll be taking out my puños americanos. Capisce?" The gates opened.

Casa Demian was revealed before me with topiary animals and frescoes depicting ancient Japanese erotica. "Que elegante," I didn't say, though I could have.

"I like my peace and quiet," Demian began. "Please infer no ill will from the butler's initial attitude. It is his job to keep out the riff-raff."

"Fair enough. I'm on business here."

Demian reclined in his throne and mused. "I have poured my soul into this album. Spilled my blood. Things of that nature. Put something like that in your article. It sounds dramatic." I suggested that we tour his home studio to get a first hand view of the recording process, but he rebuffed my request by claiming that he had burned it down immediately following the recording of Nacimiento. This curious (and expensive) habit was difficult to take seriously. I played along and suggested that we sit a while by one of his pools and dig deeper into the album's back story.

"Nacimiento involves Rorsach tests converted to audio formats... a spilled gallon of electric blue paint." He said many things along this line. A small cyclops holding a tray of empty martini glasses approached him and I cut him off. "Enough of these pleasantries, Demian. What of the tribute album?"

"I know nothing of this."      

It was with this final obstruction that I left Demian completely and high-tailed it across town to the abandoned building that Raul Lopez of Comando Suzie was using for shelter. He was burning books and clothing in an oil barrel and warming his hands. The independent music industry had been good to him. Summoning him with stale bread crusts, I questioned him about his approach to the version of "Conversaciones Con Un Mismo" he supplied to Nada Que Perder. Lopez noted that his involvement in the tribute was mainly based on promises of royalties from Lapin. These promises were not real, he later clarified, and instead should have been interpreted with the intended sarcasm.

"The Lapin executives said much about the inevitable riches to come my way after the release of this album. I took them at their word. And now, well, you see where I am." Lopez made hand gestures at his new, for lack of a better word, home. I slinked away and boarded a plane for London, the city well known for its most notable resident: Lloyd James of Naevus.

Surely he would be able to give me some useful information about one of the two songs he worked on for this tribute. James met with me in a parking lot he cheekily referred to as a "car park". Leaning against his Jaguar, Mr. James began to quote Proust. I interrupted and asked for some tea and crumpets for the full-on English experience. He clarified that, racially, he was Welsh. I nearly admitted to knowing nothing about the country of Welshia.

However Lloyd quickly got me to wager 50 pounds that I could name a stereotype about his people. I failed to do so, but I refused to pay my debt all the same. And with that, I left the England and their muffins behind me.

Though I have scoured the Earth trying to independently verify the details of these upcoming albums, I have sadly been unable to do so. Instead, I must rely on the soulless press release from Lapin operatives. As they dryly put it, "Nacimiento and Nada Que Perder will be released simultaneously in November on compact disque and available through eskimofilms.com."

Time will tell if this is a lie.