Pylon

Every Night I Die

By 1996, Billy Noknees had become something of a myth—a disco relic, a cult hero, and a man legally banned from four different recording studios. But when rising acid jazz outfit Brand New Dancers decided to pay tribute to their "eccentric funk ancestor," they reached out to Billy to rework his obscure 1975 track Sword—a dramatic soul-funk epic about "cutting through the lies with a blade of truth" (and also, inexplicably, Ghosts).

Surprisingly, Billy agreed, calling it

“a chance to return—like a phoenix with a sharper sword and wider trousers.”

The session took place in a hip converted warehouse in East London. The members of Brand New Dancers were cool, polished, and deeply committed to syncopation. Billy, however, arrived wearing a full suit of foam Armour and carrying what he called his “spiritual blade”—which was just a baguette painted silver.

As the band laid down a slick, slinky acid jazz groove—complete with upright bass, electric sitar, vibraphone, and flute—Billy ignored the subtlety of the new arrangement and launched into a deranged spoken-word tirade about destiny, betrayal, and laminated honour. His vocals included lines like:

“Blade against the spirit!
Steel defies the grave!”

He then proceeded to duel a coat rack.

As tensions grew, Billy refused to match his vocals to the groove, instead insisting the band follow his "emotional rhythm." When the drummer gently suggested they do a second take with clearer phrasing, Billy accused him of being "a rhythm traitor" and challenged him to an actual duel using cheese knives.

The bassist quit on the spot. The saxophonist left in tears. Billy attempted to play the vibraphone with his fists.

Only one full take was completed, a four-minute meandering mess of jazzy brilliance and Billy yelling about swords in the background. The band shelved the session, and the master tape was stuffed into a drawer beneath some herbal tea samples, thought to be lost forever.

That is, until 2017, when a former band member rediscovered the tape in their mum’s attic and submitted it anonymously to an experimental radio show in Bristol. It aired once at 3 a.m., baffled everyone, and was immediately bootlegged.

Now, remastered with the magic of AI, Sword (1996 Rework) is finally here, complete with its original cover art—a horror themed book.

So polish your blade and ignore the beat—because Sword is back!
It’s jazz. It’s chaos. It’s Billy Noknees vs. modern music. Again

Sword

Every Night I Die (52)

Bobby Dynamite
Startone Records · 1958 · Cat. No. ST-101

In the summer of 1958, a young, unknown Bobby Dynamite stepped into the tiny, sweat-soaked studio at Startone Records, a fledgling label operating out of the back of a barber shop in Macon, Georgia. Founded by ex-jazz drummer-turned-hustler Floyd “Big Step” Watkins, Startone had one mic, one busted tape machine, and a dream—to bottle raw Southern fire and press it straight to wax.

What came out of that first session was "The Blade Is Clean"—a gritty, gut-punch of a track that introduced Bobby’s volcanic vocals and razor-sharp stage presence to the world. Rumored to be inspired by a real barbershop straight-razor incident (involving a cheating man, a busted mirror, and a whole lot of shouting), the song is equal parts gospel, danger, and sweaty desperation.

Opening with a haunting guitar lick that cuts like a knife and a snare crack that feels like a slap across the face, Bobby steps up to the mic and testifies:

“Steel drawn slow, eyes like stone, I ride the wind, I kill alone”

Equal parts Sam Cooke soul and voodoo blues, the track builds into a frenzied climax of guitar stabs and primal howls, while Bobby proclaims his twisted truth with the conviction of a man staring down judgment.

Though it never charted, “The Blade Is Clean” became an underground classic—passed from DJ to DJ on crackling acetates, whispered about in the back rooms of juke joints, and banned from three local radio stations for being “morally unsettling.” Critics would later call it “a gospel exorcism with a switchblade in its shoe.”

For Startone, it was the beginning of a wild, decade-long ride—signing misfit geniuses and outlaw soulsters, pressing dangerous records that sounded like they might catch fire on the turntable. For Bobby Dynamite, it was the first spark in a 30-year blaze.

No remastered with AI “The Blade Is Clean.” The legend begins.

The Blade Is Clean

Enter the shadows with The Midnight Archive — a smouldering dossier of sonic espionage, dread, and danger. Inspired by the pulse-pounding soundtracks of 1950s spy cinema and laced with the sinister atmosphere of pulp horror paperbacks, this album unfolds like a classified file pried open under flickering light. From the fog-drenched alleys of Jack to the unholy rites of Haunted Hall, each track is a clandestine dispatch from the dark corners of human obsession and fear. Uncompromising, atmospheric, and etched in noir—The Midnight Archive isn’t just music. It’s evidence.

Haunted Hall

BRAIN (feat. Artemas)

Born in 1940 in Macon, Georgia, Bobby Dynamite first lit up juke joints in 1958 as a teenage guitar prodigy backing traveling gospel groups, blending sacred fire with a wicked groove. Drafted into the Army in '61, he returned electrified—channeling the raw energy of rock with the sweat-drenched urgency of James Brown—soon earning a rep as the "Funk Preacher" for his blazing stage shows and deep, sermon-like vocals. By the late '60s, Bobby was a soul powerhouse, tearing up the chitlin’ circuit with hits like “Holy Fire” and “Shake the Heavens.” In the '70s, he reinvented himself as a disco icon, trading his guitar for rhinestones and synths, dropping floor-filling classics like “Boogie Resurrection” and “Electric Testify.” Though tastes changed in the '80s, Bobby stayed relevant, fusing electro-funk and early hip-hop vibes, mentoring younger acts while always closing his sets with a ten-minute guitar solo that left the stage smoking. He passed away in 1988 under mysterious circumstances, but his legacy lives on—raw, righteous, and always explosive.

The Blade Is Clean

Bobby Dynamite

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