Bloody Legend is a nine-Blu-ray/ single CD box set from the fab folks at InterVision/ Severin. It celebrates/brings together the work of one of the UK’s unlikeliest movie moguls- Cliff Twemlow, a Mancunian bouncer/ body builder, who went on to write/ star in/produce a series of low-budget/ largely SOV films in the early 80s to early 90s- these moved between action, thriller, sci-fi, and horror. His most notable/notorious film was 1983’s G.B.H., which landed on the video nasty list, though he was connected with another ten feature films, many of which have never seen a full/proper release until now. Along with the films, we get thirteen plus hours of extras, plus a CD worth of Cliff’s music, as he was also a songwriter, oh and a pulp horror novelist too.

As someone who grew up watching the original Creepshow on repeat, seeing Creepshow 2 return in glorious 4K nearly forty years later feels like a twisted little gift. When Arrow Video announced this release, I wondered, would the remaster preserve the campy magic or strip away the grainy charm that made it so good in the first place? Within minutes, I was relieved. That same eerie atmosphere is intact, only sharper, cleaner, and even more fun to revisit.

As with most of its Nordic neighbours, the music of Iceland stands uniquely alone - not just in its creativity but in its distinct tone and sound. Home to Björk, Sigur Rós, the late great Jóhann Jóhannsson and latterly, John Grant, there is something deep in the nation’s musical DNA that sees its artists (homegrown or otherwise) embrace the epic. Maybe it’s living in such a geographically spectacular country. Being in a place where there’s an innate feeling of experiencing the past, present and future all at once. It’s certainly this sensibility that infiltrates the music of collective múm – a band of independent Icelandic performers - who, after a hiatus of 12 years, re-entered the studio to revisit their blend of songwriting and electronic experimentation for History of Silence, their seventh album in thirty-odd years

You could be forgiven if you've never heard of the cult, mostly cassette-focused Japanese underground label, DD. Well, in the way that nearly everything ends up on YT, it is basically a lock that all rare and once-obscure releases will be re-released. Not everything that once was is worth being born again, but this is certainly not the case with Disk Musik: A DD. Records Compilation, an amazing time capsule that will engender envy in post-Pro Tools populations, or, in the case of this reviewer, a deep, aching nostalgia for the genuinely weird. Over thirteen tracks, listeners are treated to a wide swath of what the label formerly released, from noisy abstract textures to idiosyncratic pop hits.

Coventry-based 80s electronic duo The Sea of Wires were huge fans of the German Kosmische scene that arose in the 1970s through bands like Amon Duul, Can, Cluster and Tangerine Dream. Chris Jones and Tony Murphy crafted their own equivalent to those records with a variety of analogue equipment that produced exciting experimental electronica with a working-class Midlands twist to it. 

Through And Through stands as one of the more bleakly distinctive and often tonally unbalancing films based on a true crime. The early '70s Polish film blends unpredictable editing, up-close & personal drama, arty & disorienting visuals, and jarring blends of music & sound. Here from Radiance Films, both in the UK & stateside, is a recent Blu-ray release of the film. Taking in a 2k scan, a new interview, and a collection of the director's short films.