#karloconnor — Public Fediverse posts

Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (2020, UK)

[As randomly chosen via Fedi survey,[1] our next spotlight is on number 644 on The List, submitted by frozen. This guest post was written by @derthomas.]

To listen to Regis’s 2020 opus Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss is to step directly into the soot-stained landscape of a fallen world. As Karl O’Connor (the architect behind Regis) hails from Birmingham, he carries the heavy, metallic lineage of his hometown in his musical DNA. This is, after all, the birthplace of heavy metal, a city built on the sweat of ironworkers and the relentless pulse of iron and steel. It was this machinery that took Tony Iommi’s fingertips and gave us the sound of Black Sabbath at the same time. When Judas Priest’s Rob Halford said of his childhood that he “could smell and taste heavy metal before the music was even invented,”[2] he meant it literally. But where metal bands once channelled the roar of the factories, Regis paints their decay.

With Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, we are invited to wander through the ancient, rusted ruins of the Industrial Revolution. It is a landscape cast in shadow. The atmosphere is oppressive and dark, mirroring the album’s sprawling, rhythmic noise. Drums are beating in the distance, a relentless march, a call from the past, a call from the future. It is the sound of machinery grinding against bone.

As our eyes adjust to the gloom, the inhabitants of this wasteland emerge. Hunched creatures roam aimlessly around. They are shadows of the humans who once worked the great machines of the past. The journey pushes us deeper into the wreckage, leading into the belly of a massive, decaying dome. Children are playfully scrambling through the dirt and rusty iron, scavengers searching for something valuable. In cracked earth, they are searching for the light that we miss.

A shivering, metallic shriek tears through the cavernous space. It is a terrifying frequency, a noise that rattles the teeth and shakes the dust from the dome’s ceiling. In the hazy distance, a behemoth arises. Its shadow stands immense and commanding. Instead of fleeing in terror, the hunched creatures and scavengers stop. Bound by a strange, hypnotic reverence, they slowly turn and begin to walk toward it. The beast does not repel them, it calls to them. Much like the magnetic, shark-eyed pull of Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, the behemoth demands absolute surrender to the noise.

“Machines are taking all over
With mankind in their command”

“Metal Gods“, from Judas Priest’s British Steel (1980)

• Bandcamp: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (extended ed.)
• Discogs: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss

1. The survey choices that led to this spotlight were: “I was dreaming when I wrote this”, “So sue me if I go too fast”, “Life is just a party”, and “And parties weren’t mean to last”. The first option was the winning selection, so the survey result was translated as picking an album in The List that contains a word in the phrase – in this case, “this”. ↩︎
2. Quote from Halford’s book Confess: The Autobiography (2020). Halford grew up in Walsall, in the Black Country area just outside of Birmingham. ↩︎

Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (2020, UK)

[As randomly chosen via Fedi survey,[1] our next spotlight is on number 644 on The List, submitted by frozen. This guest post was written by @derthomas.]

To listen to Regis’s 2020 opus Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss is to step directly into the soot-stained landscape of a fallen world. As Karl O’Connor (the architect behind Regis) hails from Birmingham, he carries the heavy, metallic lineage of his hometown in his musical DNA. This is, after all, the birthplace of heavy metal, a city built on the sweat of ironworkers and the relentless pulse of iron and steel. It was this machinery that took Tony Iommi’s fingertips and gave us the sound of Black Sabbath at the same time. When Judas Priest’s Rob Halford said of his childhood that he “could smell and taste heavy metal before the music was even invented,”[2] he meant it literally. But where metal bands once channelled the roar of the factories, Regis paints their decay.

With Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, we are invited to wander through the ancient, rusted ruins of the Industrial Revolution. It is a landscape cast in shadow. The atmosphere is oppressive and dark, mirroring the album’s sprawling, rhythmic noise. Drums are beating in the distance, a relentless march, a call from the past, a call from the future. It is the sound of machinery grinding against bone.

As our eyes adjust to the gloom, the inhabitants of this wasteland emerge. Hunched creatures roam aimlessly around. They are shadows of the humans who once worked the great machines of the past. The journey pushes us deeper into the wreckage, leading into the belly of a massive, decaying dome. Children are playfully scrambling through the dirt and rusty iron, scavengers searching for something valuable. In cracked earth, they are searching for the light that we miss.

A shivering, metallic shriek tears through the cavernous space. It is a terrifying frequency, a noise that rattles the teeth and shakes the dust from the dome’s ceiling. In the hazy distance, a behemoth arises. Its shadow stands immense and commanding. Instead of fleeing in terror, the hunched creatures and scavengers stop. Bound by a strange, hypnotic reverence, they slowly turn and begin to walk toward it. The beast does not repel them, it calls to them. Much like the magnetic, shark-eyed pull of Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, the behemoth demands absolute surrender to the noise.

“Machines are taking all over
With mankind in their command”

“Metal Gods“, from Judas Priest’s British Steel (1980)

• Bandcamp: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (extended ed.)
• Discogs: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss

1. The survey choices that led to this spotlight were: “I was dreaming when I wrote this”, “So sue me if I go too fast”, “Life is just a party”, and “And parties weren’t mean to last”. The first option was the winning selection, so the survey result was translated as picking an album in The List that contains a word in the phrase – in this case, “this”. ↩︎
2. Quote from Halford’s book Confess: The Autobiography (2020). Halford grew up in Walsall, in the Black Country area just outside of Birmingham. ↩︎

Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (2020, UK)

[As randomly chosen via Fedi survey,[1] our next spotlight is on number 644 on The List, submitted by frozen. This guest post was written by @derthomas.]

To listen to Regis’s 2020 opus Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss is to step directly into the soot-stained landscape of a fallen world. As Karl O’Connor (the architect behind Regis) hails from Birmingham, he carries the heavy, metallic lineage of his hometown in his musical DNA. This is, after all, the birthplace of heavy metal, a city built on the sweat of ironworkers and the relentless pulse of iron and steel. It was this machinery that took Tony Iommi’s fingertips and gave us the sound of Black Sabbath at the same time. When Judas Priest’s Rob Halford said of his childhood that he “could smell and taste heavy metal before the music was even invented,”[2] he meant it literally. But where metal bands once channelled the roar of the factories, Regis paints their decay.

With Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, we are invited to wander through the ancient, rusted ruins of the Industrial Revolution. It is a landscape cast in shadow. The atmosphere is oppressive and dark, mirroring the album’s sprawling, rhythmic noise. Drums are beating in the distance, a relentless march, a call from the past, a call from the future. It is the sound of machinery grinding against bone.

As our eyes adjust to the gloom, the inhabitants of this wasteland emerge. Hunched creatures roam aimlessly around. They are shadows of the humans who once worked the great machines of the past. The journey pushes us deeper into the wreckage, leading into the belly of a massive, decaying dome. Children are playfully scrambling through the dirt and rusty iron, scavengers searching for something valuable. In cracked earth, they are searching for the light that we miss.

A shivering, metallic shriek tears through the cavernous space. It is a terrifying frequency, a noise that rattles the teeth and shakes the dust from the dome’s ceiling. In the hazy distance, a behemoth arises. Its shadow stands immense and commanding. Instead of fleeing in terror, the hunched creatures and scavengers stop. Bound by a strange, hypnotic reverence, they slowly turn and begin to walk toward it. The beast does not repel them, it calls to them. Much like the magnetic, shark-eyed pull of Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, the behemoth demands absolute surrender to the noise.

“Machines are taking all over
With mankind in their command”

“Metal Gods“, from Judas Priest’s British Steel (1980)

• Bandcamp: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (extended ed.)
• Discogs: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss

1. The survey choices that led to this spotlight were: “I was dreaming when I wrote this”, “So sue me if I go too fast”, “Life is just a party”, and “And parties weren’t mean to last”. The first option was the winning selection, so the survey result was translated as picking an album in The List that contains a word in the phrase – in this case, “this”. ↩︎
2. Quote from Halford’s book Confess: The Autobiography (2020). Halford grew up in Walsall, in the Black Country area just outside of Birmingham. ↩︎

Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (2020, UK)

[As randomly chosen via Fedi survey,[1] our next spotlight is on number 644 on The List, submitted by frozen. This guest post was written by @derthomas.]

To listen to Regis’s 2020 opus Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss is to step directly into the soot-stained landscape of a fallen world. As Karl O’Connor (the architect behind Regis) hails from Birmingham, he carries the heavy, metallic lineage of his hometown in his musical DNA. This is, after all, the birthplace of heavy metal, a city built on the sweat of ironworkers and the relentless pulse of iron and steel. It was this machinery that took Tony Iommi’s fingertips and gave us the sound of Black Sabbath at the same time. When Judas Priest’s Rob Halford said of his childhood that he “could smell and taste heavy metal before the music was even invented,”[2] he meant it literally. But where metal bands once channelled the roar of the factories, Regis paints their decay.

With Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, we are invited to wander through the ancient, rusted ruins of the Industrial Revolution. It is a landscape cast in shadow. The atmosphere is oppressive and dark, mirroring the album’s sprawling, rhythmic noise. Drums are beating in the distance, a relentless march, a call from the past, a call from the future. It is the sound of machinery grinding against bone.

As our eyes adjust to the gloom, the inhabitants of this wasteland emerge. Hunched creatures roam aimlessly around. They are shadows of the humans who once worked the great machines of the past. The journey pushes us deeper into the wreckage, leading into the belly of a massive, decaying dome. Children are playfully scrambling through the dirt and rusty iron, scavengers searching for something valuable. In cracked earth, they are searching for the light that we miss.

A shivering, metallic shriek tears through the cavernous space. It is a terrifying frequency, a noise that rattles the teeth and shakes the dust from the dome’s ceiling. In the hazy distance, a behemoth arises. Its shadow stands immense and commanding. Instead of fleeing in terror, the hunched creatures and scavengers stop. Bound by a strange, hypnotic reverence, they slowly turn and begin to walk toward it. The beast does not repel them, it calls to them. Much like the magnetic, shark-eyed pull of Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, the behemoth demands absolute surrender to the noise.

“Machines are taking all over
With mankind in their command”

“Metal Gods“, from Judas Priest’s British Steel (1980)

• Bandcamp: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (extended ed.)
• Discogs: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss

1. The survey choices that led to this spotlight were: “I was dreaming when I wrote this”, “So sue me if I go too fast”, “Life is just a party”, and “And parties weren’t mean to last”. The first option was the winning selection, so the survey result was translated as picking an album in The List that contains a word in the phrase – in this case, “this”. ↩︎
2. Quote from Halford’s book Confess: The Autobiography (2020). Halford grew up in Walsall, in the Black Country area just outside of Birmingham. ↩︎

Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (2020, UK)

[As randomly chosen via Fedi survey,[1] our next spotlight is on number 644 on The List, submitted by frozen. This guest post was written by @derthomas.]

To listen to Regis’s 2020 opus Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss is to step directly into the soot-stained landscape of a fallen world. As Karl O’Connor (the architect behind Regis) hails from Birmingham, he carries the heavy, metallic lineage of his hometown in his musical DNA. This is, after all, the birthplace of heavy metal, a city built on the sweat of ironworkers and the relentless pulse of iron and steel. It was this machinery that took Tony Iommi’s fingertips and gave us the sound of Black Sabbath at the same time. When Judas Priest’s Rob Halford said of his childhood that he “could smell and taste heavy metal before the music was even invented,”[2] he meant it literally. But where metal bands once channelled the roar of the factories, Regis paints their decay.

With Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, we are invited to wander through the ancient, rusted ruins of the Industrial Revolution. It is a landscape cast in shadow. The atmosphere is oppressive and dark, mirroring the album’s sprawling, rhythmic noise. Drums are beating in the distance, a relentless march, a call from the past, a call from the future. It is the sound of machinery grinding against bone.

As our eyes adjust to the gloom, the inhabitants of this wasteland emerge. Hunched creatures roam aimlessly around. They are shadows of the humans who once worked the great machines of the past. The journey pushes us deeper into the wreckage, leading into the belly of a massive, decaying dome. Children are playfully scrambling through the dirt and rusty iron, scavengers searching for something valuable. In cracked earth, they are searching for the light that we miss.

A shivering, metallic shriek tears through the cavernous space. It is a terrifying frequency, a noise that rattles the teeth and shakes the dust from the dome’s ceiling. In the hazy distance, a behemoth arises. Its shadow stands immense and commanding. Instead of fleeing in terror, the hunched creatures and scavengers stop. Bound by a strange, hypnotic reverence, they slowly turn and begin to walk toward it. The beast does not repel them, it calls to them. Much like the magnetic, shark-eyed pull of Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss, the behemoth demands absolute surrender to the noise.

“Machines are taking all over
With mankind in their command”

“Metal Gods“, from Judas Priest’s British Steel (1980)

• Bandcamp: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss (extended ed.)
• Discogs: Regis – Hidden In This Is The Light That You Miss

1. The survey choices that led to this spotlight were: “I was dreaming when I wrote this”, “So sue me if I go too fast”, “Life is just a party”, and “And parties weren’t mean to last”. The first option was the winning selection, so the survey result was translated as picking an album in The List that contains a word in the phrase – in this case, “this”. ↩︎
2. Quote from Halford’s book Confess: The Autobiography (2020). Halford grew up in Walsall, in the Black Country area just outside of Birmingham. ↩︎