Today, legendary Swiss rock pioneers, The Young Gods return with “Appear Disappear”, a striking new song and the title of their upcoming 14th studio album out 13th June via indie label Two Gentlemen. Celebrating 40 years of career this year, the trio also announces a highly anticipated EU/UK tour which will take place across October, November and December 2025, with stops in London, Leeds, Paris, Berlin, Barcelona, Madrid, Lisbon, Copenhagen, Brussels, Prague and many more. The guitars are out, and the knives are drawn. To the galloping rhythm of a world spiraling out of control, The Young Gods take aim and strike with renewed power. From the very first second of Appear Disappear, the six-string tears through space, baring its fangs in an electric howl. The trio has returned to its most aggressive fundamentals, to its art of sonic warfare—never superfluous when war is everywhere.

Rarely has a Young Gods album been so deeply infused with its era—one of military conflicts, mass surveillance, and intimate dramas. Since their inception in 1985, the band has pioneered musical landscapes that dared to fuse the raw urgency of rock with the power of electronics. “Appear Disappear” captures that beating heart. The Young Gods honor their own history as much as their lifelong influences, from psychedelic rock to post-punk, from the swirling, very "Doors-like" “Intertidal” to the industrial rolls of “Systemized”.

"We wanted something raw," summarizes Franz Treichler, guitarist and vocalist. "After the atmospheric rock of “Data Mirage Tangram” (2019) and the instrumental piece “In C” by Terry Riley (2022), we needed and wanted to express ourselves more directly."

A guerrilla album, then. A record of resistance. In both its themes and intensity, it plunges into the heart of the trap, into "the brain of the monster"—which Che Guevara precisely located in Switzerland and which still thrives there comfortably. But it is not impossible to confront it.

"Appear Disappear” is a reflection on our involvement in the world's problems and our ability to take a stand. How do we react, make the right move amid the vast sea of data we process every second?" asks Treichler. Propelled skyward by the electro pulse of Cesare Pizzi (sampling, electronics) and the pounding drums of Bernard Trontin, “Mes yeux de tous” unfolds the same dizzying question: How do we avoid being swallowed by the "cloud" we ourselves feed?