New album out now. Go here to preview/buy...

http://web.mac.com/andy_redpoint/Site/Nostalgia_For_Now.html

Hope you like.
Andy/Ian
Redpoint

Achieved a lifelong ambition of getting played on Radio 1 last night. Okay, so it was at 3am but it still counts. You can listen to us on the Mary Anne Hobbs show, streaming from the Radio 1 website for the next week.

To celebrate, we've also put up a new track, The Unexplained, for free download from the Hidden Music site.

The title comes from a magazine that Andy and I used to read as children in the early '80s, detailing all kinds of paranormal phenomena. The article on spontaneous human combustion left me terrified, and the photographs of ghostly apparitions still give me the chills.

Enjoy.
Ian

Our debut album Protect And Survive is now available to download.

Read more about it on the main blog-site here.

Stay at Home is a taster for, and a pointer towards,our album Protect and Survive, which will be launched at the Kelvedon Hatch Nuclear Bunker concert this September.

Three remixes pulling in a slightly darker and beatier direction, and two exclusive tracks.

1. Firem (Dark Side)
2. Bipolar (Buy More)
3. Bright Colours, Falsely Seen
4. Middlesex beach (Tide Out)
5. Q-Met

Available now for free download from Hidden Music.

Download Stay At Home

Hope you like.

On Friday 12th May, out of our Cold War era obsession and seeking inspiration for the forthcoming EP and album, we visited Kelvedon Hatch 'Secret Nuclear Bunker' in Essex (http://www.japar.demon.co.uk/).

Unsurprisingly, for such a splendid spring day, we appeared to be alone in our urge to venture hundreds of feet underground. It was like a private visit. The bunker is so vast and labyrynthine, we only saw a couple of other visitors briefly in the entrance tunnel. From then on, it was as if they were phantoms who had melted into the cold, grey walls.

As well as being physically oppressive - a study site for claustrophobic panic attack - Kelvedon is a terrific place for anyone interested in electronic music and sound texture. The owners have done an incredible job of bringing life to the environment with stern military mantras, heartbeat/sonar bleeps, muttering information films and cycling Tannoy calls chronicling the terrible events up above ("100 megaton airburst over St Albans!"). The jaunty voice-over of the owner's audio-tour enhances the unease.

Maybe in the company of a few more visitors, it would have felt more like some sort of museum. But our isolation made it a Cold War Marie Celeste. No-one mans the entry door - donations are dropped into a signposted tupperware tub at the exit. Shop-window dummies stare blindly from their posts: gas-masked sentries; lobotomised clerks; stuffed doctors and frozen nurses. In a nightmare, their necks would click and twist as they slowly tilted their gaze in your direction...

The intention is to conjur a snapshot of the bunker's day-to-day reality. The effect is hallucinogenic and accidentally terrifying. Dread deepens with every door, as impassive statistics impart the terrible function of this sterile subterranean retreat: ensuring the continuation of humanity on an Earth scorched by inhuman devastation.

But there's also a glorious, bureaucratic Britishness to it - as if the horror of atomic hellfire can somehow be neutralised by an effective filing system. The voice-guide and posed dummies are crucial flecks of black humour. And just as you're getting used to the sense of lifeless ornamentation, there's a cat. Oh Christ, there's a cat...