07 February 2026

SCHOOL DISCO – SD IV (2026, LP, Krautpop!)

RELEASE INFO:

Label: Krautpop!

Format: LP, Album, Limited Edition, Moon Blue Vinyl

Release Date: 20 Feb 2026

There’s something in Brighton’s air that keeps bending rock music into stranger shapes, and School Disco feel like one of its most quietly unhinged mutations. Since first surfacing with “Mongolian Disco Show” in 2017, the band have been moving sideways through psych, prog, garage and Krautrock, never quite settling, never fully explaining themselves. Their records feel like documents of motion — bands discovering who they are mid-track. School Disco’s sound thrives on tension: narration rubbing against melody, fuzz colliding with restraint, grooves that shuffle and spiral rather than drive straight ahead. They’ve built their reputation the old way — relentless live shows, gradual cult recognition, and a refusal to stand down their edges — becoming one of those bands you don’t so much “get into” as stumble upon and then wonder how you missed them for so long. Here’s my review on their previous album “Denton Rock” (2023, LP Copper Feast Records/Krautpop!).

Their fourth album, “SD IV” (5th if you count their first CDR effort), due for release on 20.02.2026 via Krautpop!, marks a darker, more expansive turn. Mostly recorded live at Farm Road Studios with minimal overdubs, the album captures School Disco at their most hypnotic and assured, letting long-form structures, distant vocals, fuzz-heavy guitars and dappled electronics breathe and mutate in real time. Drawing inspiration from Black Sabbath’s weight, CAN’s repetition and the unease of sci-fi and horror, “SD IV” drifts into more meditative territory without losing the band’s raw intensity. It’s an album built on performance but shaped by texture — as indebted to Meddle-era Pink Floyd as it is to modern psych outsiders — and it confirms School Disco as a band still moving forward by digging deeper inward.

Upgraded to a quartet, School Disco are: Rory Lethbridge (Guitars, Vocals, Synthesizers), Harry Hayes (Drums, Vocals), Eliott Stanford (Guitars, Vocals, Keyboards), and Laurence Underwood (Bass, Vocals).

“SD IV” contains 7 tracks, clock-ticking from 3:33 to 8:34 min. The album opens in reverse — literally and spiritually, with “Open” (8:34). Backwards sounds, haunted single-note keys and a ceremonial, almost funereal atmosphere slowly unfold, flirting openly with early ’70s prog. The organ acts as a guide into the unknown, while the drums patiently drag the track deeper into a long-forgotten progressive dimension. Melodic yet painfully sad guitars hover above until, past the four-minute mark, everything dissolves into a stunning Pink Floyd–like electronic soundscape. (I caught myself hearing a voice inside my head, whispering, “one of these days I’m going to cut you into pieces”). Sequencers pulse, machines awaken, and the track mutates into a phantasmagoric space-prog anthem — experimental, ominous, and deeply old school. This is not neo-prog nostalgia; it’s a warning from the future…

Mirroring the opening moments of “Open”, “Happen” (6:26) shifts focus as the bass takes the lead, pulling the music into jazzy, proggy territory before the guitars strike back with heavy intent. Soft, almost tender vocals create a striking antithesis against an increasingly oppressive musical weight. Then comes the turn — sudden, dark, unmistakable. The shadow of Black Sabbath looms large, not in stoner drag but in pure, original heaviness. This is Sabbath as taught in 1970: slow, crushing, inevitable!

The next one is called “Messiah Of Evil” (5:12), and here, the band sink fully into Black Sabbath’s most psychedelic depths. Slow and torturous, the track unfolds like a dark, warped ballad. Keys add a proggy haze, vocals drift in Floydian fashion, and the guitars steadily sharpen into weapons. Midway through, the sound fractures into shimmering electrical waves, radiating menace and hallucinatory tension…

Initially soft and mellow, “The Bottom” (4:30) feels like an underground prog ballad from the late ’60s or early ’70s. King Crimson echoes ripple beneath the surface, while dreamy guitar lines nod toward mid-’70s Pink Floyd. Just when the listener settles into its warmth, the final moments ignite — the track transforms into a launching rocket, exploding outward in a brief but exhilarating burst of space-bound energy…

“Simulation III” (3:33) is a concise prog-rock statement steeped in ’70s spirit, flirting with UK mid-’70s hard rock. The rhythm is steady, the guitars hot and electrified, carrying a direct sense of nostalgia without sounding stale. A tight, focused reminder of how powerful classic prog structures can still feel…

From the opening seconds of “What You Do, What You Say” (8:16), the ghost of Black Sabbath hovers relentlessly. Guitars shift constantly between crushing heaviness and intricate prog passages, never settling. The centerpiece is a killer middle section where Kraut-leaning guitar patterns and Emerson, Lake & Palmer–styled keys collide, pushing the track into a mind-bending psychedelic climax. By the end, the listener is left stunned — disoriented in the best possible way…

The closing track, “No One’s His God” (8:25), feels like a lost relic from the golden age of progressive rock. Balladesque and hypnotic, piano lines add a fragile magic, while the guitar eventually lifts into a bluesy hard-rock solo that soars effortlessly. Blending prog, Kraut, blues and hard rock, this track could convincingly pass for an early ’70s recording. Timeless, immersive, and quietly exceptional!

In conclusion, taken as a whole, “SD IV” feels less like a modern release and more like a transmission intercepted from another decade. School Disco don’t revive the ’70s — they channel its unease, its weight, and its sense of endless exploration, and only God knows how we/I desperately seeking for these kinds of approaches from “modern” bands! Heavy without posturing, progressive without excess, psychedelic without nostalgia, this is music that drifts, threatens, and finally consumes. “SD IV” doesn’t ask for attention — it demands surrender. One of the greatest records of 2026! TimeLord Michalis