Just unearthed a yellowed scan from the vaults, a personal relic titled ADD LIST 3, dated April 10, 1992. It’s a snapshot of my tape-trading teenage life, back when you mailed out dub after dub of brutal demos in exchange for someone else's lo-fi masterpieces. A quiet war of patience, hiss, and black ink.
This list was an add-on to my master tape catalog: the stuff I’d just acquired and was ready to trade. And 30+ years later? Honestly, it still stands up. A grimy time capsule of death, doom, thrash, hardcore, and some early techno-death mutations that still feel raw and weird in the best way.Honestly, I’d still listen to most of this today. A scene stitched together through flyers, letters, IRC's and blind trust. And no, I won’t be answering questions about my teenage sexual life or lack thereof. But I will talk about the brilliance of Repulsion rehearsals, or how Xysma's Doors cover still makes zero sense, but in a good way.

This morning, while making yogurt, I threw on an old Love Spirals Downwards album. Total random pick. I hadn’t listened to them in decades, and just like that, I was back in some strange corner of the ’90s. A twilight zone tucked between late ’80s dream pop and Twin Peaks-style jazz noir. Dreamy guitars, weightless vocals, everything wrapped in that soft, otherworldly haze. Pure 1993 bliss. Like an air bubble that never popped.
That album instantly triggered a memory: the Heavenly Voices compilations. A whole series of CDs that opened the door to a zillion like-minded bands I never would’ve found otherwise. Released by the German label Hyperium Records, they were the ultimate gateway drug to the ethereal scene. Some volumes even came with Zillo magazine, which back then was pretty much the sacred text of goth and darkwave heads.
There were five volumes in total (plus a bootleg sixth entry from Mexico!), featuring obscure artists from all over the globe. Always fronted by these spectral female voices that felt more like weather than sound. Stoa, Love Is Colder Than Death, Collection d’Arnell-Andréa, and of course, the mighty Cocteau Twins, they all lived in that space.
I think I got into it thanks to Semantic, the French distributor who carried the series. I even remember scoring a Best of Heavenly Voices disc—maybe it came with a magazine, maybe someone gave it to me. The details are foggy, like everything about those tracks. Soft, shimmering, half-remembered.
Now where the hell did I put the lactic ferments?

Here's the artwork for a mixtape I made in 2020 for the Metal Punk Tape Exchange. The concept was hilarious:  "A collection of sexually charged double entendres and innuendos that will forever ruin your perception of otherwise perfectly good songs." Songs included ranged from Bathory's 'Father To Son' to Autopsy's 'Gasping for Air.' No audio unfortunately, I forgot to rip the tape to the computer...

A few years back, my friend Raphaël and I hosted Sunday B-movie nights at our old hangout, Le Café Mamakin. We screened double features to near-empty rooms. Friends dropped by now and then, but most punters stayed glued to their drinks, oblivious to the cinematic gold playing next door.
​I made a few posters to mark the madness. Here they are, for posterity.