Portland’s Antiquated Future Records, run by Joshua James Amberson, are one of the most reliably unpredictable labels around, releasing cassettes from a wide diversity of artists that span genres they describe as “slightly-skewed pop, indie rock, lo-fi folk, oddball electronic, and soundscape wizardry.” An arm of the wider Antiquated Future online store/pop-up shop/zine distro, the tape label brings the same dedication to diverse content and DIY ethos as the zines and art and other artifacts that made Antiquated Future its name.
Excitingly, this summer is Antiquated Future Records’ seventh birthday, and to celebrate the label are releasing The First Seven Years, a compilation that spans their releases to date. Mastered by Fred Thomas, the nineteen-song release is a celebration of the entire Antiquated Future Records roster. Today, we have the pleasure of hosting the whole thing ahead of the physical release next month.
The album opens with the pleasingly retro-sounding (and previously unreleased) ‘A Fast Ska’ by Evan Hashi’s Little Angry & The Sweets, and from there dives into the last seven years of Antiquated Future releases. From the sultry slow burn of Flying Circles to the unmistakable, oddly graceful folk of David Thomas Broughton, the compilation illustrates both the range of the Antiquated Future discography and the common thread that unites every artist, a spirit more than a sound—an unwavering dedication to make art in their own unique way. There are moments of power too, like Tucker Theodore‘s ‘Movement 9 (High Descent)’ with it’s distorted post-rock vibes, and the slow tidal rhythms of Midwife‘s ‘Angel’, Madeline Johnston’s voice grainy as though beamed from the bottom of a murky pool of static.
This variety continues across the entire compilation. The subtly euphoric crystalline dreamscape of Reighnbeau‘s ‘Gold Face’ segues into the sparkling but emotionally poignant pop gem ‘Never Finds You’ by VSF fav The Washboard Abs, a track we previously described as “quietly devastating […] forgo[ing] any sense of metaphor or allusion in favour of a brave and direct account of dealing with the serious illness of a loved one.” There’s a devotional quality to Jordan O’ Jordan‘s ‘Patience is Gruesome’, a wheezing hymn that escalates into a shrieking choir, while Sara Renberg brings wry humour that wouldn’t be out of place in a whip-smart graphic novel, and Eleanor Murray delivers a smooth and intimate folk song to close things out.
But don’t take our word for it, stream the whole thing below and find your favourite:
Design and layout by Andrew Barton at Two Plum Press