STM 313 - MITH-XX

Matthew Samways (b. 1992) is a defining force in the North American noise and industrial underground, currently operating as MITH-XX. His trajectory began at 14, witnessing MAN IS THE BASTARD/BASTARD NOISE in Halifax, Nova Scotia—an encounter that shaped everything to follow. Two years later, he founded Electric Voice Records, quickly building a roster that included Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, Martial Canterel, Xeno & Oaklander, and Ike Yard. Several years after dropping out of high school, he pursued audio engineering and studied Interdisciplinary Arts at NSCAD University. He has since passed through Toronto, Vancouver, and Los Angeles, and now operates from Montréal, where he founded Flesh Prison—a label defined by uncompromising curation, currently on hiatus while he contemplates what it means to run a record label in today's climate. He also writes for Discipline magazine.

Samways' relationship with Secret Thirteen is foundational; in 2012, he inaugurated our Spotlight series (STS 001), establishing a bond that has endured for almost 15 years. Despite his relative youth, his discography and curatorial work carry the depth of someone who has lived through the genre's multiple lifecycles. Whether through his solo power electronics output, the now defunct collective No Master, No Servant—whose recordings still weave industrial and EBM with haunted acoustic atmospheres—or his early involvement with Sacred Bones' The Pink Noise, Samways remains a dedicated audio archaeologist, digging in the dirt where others fear to tread.

Secret Thirteen Mix 313 is not merely a recording—it is a sigil carved into the journal's timeline. Clocking in at a symbolic 3 hours and 13 minutes, it aligns perfectly with our numerology to mark a new chapter. Beyond the numbers, this selection operates as a physiological response to existential dread. The process was an act of isolation: conceived while wandering Nova Scotia's rural landscapes, immersed in the sounds for weeks, Samways constructed this narrative around a singular, gnawing question—what does it mean to be human these days?

A sonic mirror held to a world where moral language has become decoration for atrocity. In Civilization and Its Discontents, Freud argued that civilization is built upon the systematic repression of our most fundamental instincts—aggression, desire, the death drive itself. This mix is the sound of those instincts refusing to stay buried, tearing through the concrete foundations of a society that promised safety in exchange for submission. A pharmacological overdose of reality—a dive into the cellular level of suffering and resistance. Unlike the crowds described by Gustave Le Bon in The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind—masses who hunger only for comforting illusions and emotional contagion—this music is designed for the isolated, thinking individual. It offers no consolation, no belonging through surrender. Only the jagged edge of truth for those who refuse to be swept away.

The narrative moves between visceral Power Electronics, Death Industrial, and pure Noise, using spoken word cuts and samples to critique the crumbling walls of late capitalism. A history lesson delivered through abrasion. Hear Brighter Death Now's genre-defining aggression ("In Degradation We Trust," released on Flesh Prison in 2021) and the clinical coldness of Haus Arafna—reminding us this music was never about provocation for its own sake. It was always about documenting the ugliness of the human condition with unflinching precision.

Yet this mix is not a museum of past transgressions—it is a living, breathing entity. Samways weaves in Mark Solotroff's suffocating atmospheres ("Immediately After Vanishing") and the explicit rejection of The Vomit Arsonist's "I Do Not Want to be a Part of This"—titles functioning as slogans for a society in decline. By bridging these legends with the modern visceral intensity of Puce Mary, Pharmakon, and Theologian, he creates a dialogue between the originators and the new blood.

Unreleased and self-released material—from THRTDSPLY to Mouth Wound—embodies the DIY ethos Samways champions as "sonic magic." These tracks are not products created for an algorithm; they are artifacts of survival. In an era where cancel culture has replaced dialogue with punishment, where nuance is erased by the demand for instant judgment, this selection operates as counter-offensive. A sanctuary of ugliness—an uncompromising expression that exists outside commerce, comfort, and easy consumption.

As the mix progresses, noise ceases to be assault and becomes meditation. As Samways puts it: "there's a release in surrendering to sound that has no obligation to be pleasant." The wall of sound washes away the anxiety of the mundane, leaving only a pure, vibrating void. This shift becomes palpable with Lussuria ("Unliving In This Marble History") and Heaven Axis—the project of Matthew and Morgan Hall, whose unreleased track here signals a return for the label. Assault gives way to low frequency worship: vast, empty spaces mirroring the isolation of the modern individual.

The final hour carries the weight of a collapsing star, its density almost gravitational. The collaboration between Vatican Shadow, Salford Electronics, and Ancient Methods signals a gathering of forces—not to prevent the collapse, but to bear witness together. A rhythmic unity before the end.

The journey culminates in heartbreak. After hours of attrition, the mix resolves into "Still Life" by Silent Servant, released on Flesh Prison. A profound memento mori to Juan Mendez—friend, legend, reminder of existence's fragility. A moment of silence after the war. Amidst the chaos of global affairs, wars waged without consequence, the rot of systems that have abandoned any pretense of serving the common good—the individual human spirit remains the only thing truly sacred. We dedicate this mix to the memory of Juan and his wife Simone.

Beyond the internet’s corruption of creativity over the past few generations, we now face the looming threat of artificial intelligence, only one of many problematic infringements not mentioned here. It is solely because of those who remain persistent—staying true to their craft and influencing new generations—that this legacy continues. True practitioners of magic.

Against these ties that seek to keep us down, an underground persists—one where people continue to produce sonic magic. What was once a full-blown, booming industry has become a celebrated labor of love. Live concerts are organized, fringe record stores keep their doors open, labels and collectives continue to produce physical media—a community existing as it should.

While some people are undoubtedly finding new ways to live, I am increasingly aware of a rapid decline in human decency. Unless one comes from generational wealth, necessities like housing, food, transportation, and any education beyond the bare minimum are becoming severely out of reach. Rent stagnates against rising inflation, the housing crisis deepens, and even the simple act of sustaining oneself feels intentionally constrained. Cancel culture, with intent rooted in accountability, has become harmful in replacing dialogue with punishment and reduces complex human beings to single moments or accusations. It discourages risk, experimentation, and honest expression, fostering fear rather than growth. When nuance is erased and permanence is imposed on mistakes, culture stagnates and the possibility of learning, change, or redemption is lost. These are mere examples of the difficulties artists’ face when creating art not for mass approval, but as an uncompromising expression that exists outside commerce, comfort, and easy consumption.

Existential dread feels less like a private affliction and more like a reasonable response to the daily news: wars waged without consequence, treaties ignored, and moral language used as decoration rather than restraint. International law, once framed as a fragile safeguard, now appears optional for the powerful and irrelevant for everyone else, exposing how little is truly sacred in global affairs. In this atmosphere, meaning erodes — not because people stop caring, but because the systems meant to embody shared values no longer even pretend to protect them. Largely neglected by the media, the streets tell a different story—one that is a war in itself. The common denominators remain the same: pain and suffering, with outcomes that feel indistinguishable—death, or a hollow, meaningless existence. It’s only becoming increasingly more difficult to survive. The walls of capitalism are caving in, crushing those inside while those who built them flee the rubble.

Artists included in this mix such as Roger Karmanik (Brighter Death Now), Mark Solotroff (Intrinsic Action, Bloodyminded), David Padbury (Salford Electronics, The Grey Wolves) and Haus Arafna are critical to the development of the post-industrial movement, also known as Power Electronics or Death Industrial. Using the template laid out by Throbbing Gristle and Industrial Records, not by imitation, but by adopting their method, ethics, and intent. Using art as confrontation, operating outside institutional control, and engaging technology critically. It means prioritizing autonomy, physical presence, and underground community while accepting risk and resisting commodification. Most importantly, the legacy survives only by refusing nostalgia and responding honestly to the conditions of the present. In a more stripped down sonic form and not-so-different direction, the elements of pure unadulterated noise were more focused on, examples of being Incapacitants, Merzbow and The Haters.

While similar themes and ethos recur throughout this selection, the focus on pure noise functions as a cathartic, meditative release—one that resists boundaries entirely. The work is not always made for the listener, and the listener is not always listening for comfort. There’s a release in surrendering to sound that has no obligation to be pleasant. The lack of structure allows emotions that produce anger and anxiety to surface and dissipate without being named. By contrast, more post industrial and dark ambient influences work through atmosphere rather than assault. Slow-moving drones, low frequency worship, and empty spaces create a feeling of vastness or isolation.

The tracklist is a combination of unreleased material, self-released works, live recordings, and formally released tracks, all produced within the last five years. Although this represents only a small fraction of the exceptional work currently being made, I’ve included artists who have been active anywhere from the last five decades to the present—artists who remain vital and whose work I deeply admire. This is merely a reflection of a much broader field of music that influences me for many different reasons, but it is a history that continues to shape my own practice. I believe these forms of expression to be among the most powerful acts of protest.