Suche:2 full minds

Glen S debuts on Craigie Knowes with the Elation Station LP. 7 club-handy tracks shaped to elate minds and elevate dancefloors. A reflective trip glimmering with positivity and illumination.


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Yearly compilation album RADAR by KEROXEN returns with its fourth volume in the ongoing series of themed based albums showcasing the talents and misfortunes of carefully selected musical projects based or connected with the Canary Islands.

With its first volume released in 2020 aiming to promote and divulge adventurous Island based music, the Keroxen imprint now presents Vol.4 with another showcase of the various insular musical scenes made in the outermost regions – in this case, a very rare incursion outside the Canary Archipelago by way of handpicking friends and colleagues working in the further most regions we can think of. A very special showcase then, featuring the Azores Islands, Reunion Island, Canary Islands and French Guiana - a true connection of likeminded minds whom demonstrate once again that you do not need to be in an western hipster mecca to make interesting work.

The presentation format sticks to its breakable rules, with each artist offering one track per side and the full thing of course wrapped up in Pura Marquez dizzying post-tropical art.

The album opens with the Julee Cruise inspired project Akane by Tenerife’s Carolina Machado where synth arpeggios intertwine organically with her soothing voice, setting the tone for Reunion Island’s Jako Maron and his unique take on local Maloya music by way of electrifying it into a trance like looping beat. Enter French Guyana’s Daryanna Jean unique sound artistry with sampling, cutting and pasting local(?) sounds into a disorientating needle jump glitch fest. Side A eventually closes with a very Azorean take on the very English hauntological sound by borrowing those pastoral melodies and synth riffs of yesterday and transposing it to the remote Sub-Tropical fields of São Miguel island, in the Azores, courtesy of Flipping Candy.

Side B emphatically reinforces the compilation’s original concept that no matter where you are, in this post internet, post everything world, outsider music thrives and keeps raising the invisible bar, true that!

Malian and French pair Siraba unveil their much-anticipated self-titled debut LP on Damian Lazarus’ Secret Teachings label, a 10-track odyssey fusing Mali’s rich musical traditions with cutting-edge electronic music.

Malian hunter Boubacar Samake and Damien Vandesande, one half of the French electronic band dOP, have won plenty of plaudits for the early singles taken from their debut album as duo Siraba. Those singles, spanning across the summer months, have found the pair bring the traditional sound of the Wassoulou - a river valley of West Africa - to the electronic world after 20 years of friendship. The music comes with an important underlying message of love and respect and results in spellbinding tracks that move heart, body and soul, finding a perfect home on Secret Teachings - a left-of-centre alternative label to Lazarus’ celebrated and often more club- focused Crosstown Rebels. With the arrival of the full album, the pair exhibit and showcase the emotional breadth and depth of their music, with detailed explorations of organic textures and native sounds merged with future-focused ideas and concepts.

The title track opens with an atmospheric mix of spoken words and spine-tingling chords that bring rich Afro flavours, while ‘Dounoiia’ is a languid groove made from hand drums and pixelated synth leads that cast a fine spell. The slow-blooming ‘Bani’ brings rich Malian blues and melancholic horns, while ‘Komafly’ is a rich mix of acoustic strings and broken beats that transports you to a hot and dusty landscape. A vital component of the sounds of the Wassoulou, the indigenous stringed instrument the Ngoni features again on the rousing ‘Nanse’ as spiritual vocals sung in Bambara rouse the soul.

‘Djandjo’ is another rich infusion of Malian culture with simmering electronics to make for something both ancient sounding yet futuristic, and the hypnotic ‘Ngana Fôlly’ with its rich bass is a song ‘dedicated to those who fight for the well-being of their families, for unity... a song for the people who also fight a great disease, between life and death’. The sublime ‘Toro’ is a wavy groove perfect for sundown - a deep and inviting sound rich in soulful vocals and dreamy melodies, while ‘Tolonawoulile’ is driven by the intense strumming of the Ngoni with busy hand claps and hurried drums and last of all ‘Fo Te Mokobana’ sinks into a heart-warming slow groove with sweeping strings and Malian percussion all overlaid with impassioned vocals.

A rich listening experience, Siraba’s debut album is an immersive journey and absorbing dive into the minds of two artists breaking new grounds while spotlighting native traditions and musical techniques spanning hundreds of years.

• Following on from the highly successful first two editions of
Dance Masters featuring the classics mixes from maestros
Shep Pettibone and Arthur Baker, the spotlight turns to
another remix legend, John Luongo.

• Boston born, John is one of the truly legendary DJ's and
remixers of the Disco era. John got his break at Epic by
overdubbing percussion from salt shakers and spoons onto a
promo and then passing them back the tape. This resulted in
him being flown to New York, and put in a studio (of his
choice) to mix and produce Melba Moore`s “You Stepped
Into My Life”. From this point everything he touched was a
hit. He went onto remix Disco classics by Jackie Moore –
“This Time Baby”, Dan Hartman “Vertigo / Relight My Fire”
and Patti Labelle “Music Is My Way Of Life”.

• However, John was not afraid of remixing artists that didn’t
fit into the disco genre and this attitude is borne out by the
tracklisting of this compilation, on which Gladys Knight and
The Pips rub shoulders with Fine Young Cannibals and
Billy Idol, and Baltimora appears alongside Banararama
and Serge Ponsar.

• “…if you played this whole thing, just put it on and didn’t
tell anyone it was me, they’d say ‘boy, what a great group of
songs this is!’” - John Luongo

• This cut down 16 track essential edition in pressed on 140g
black vinyl and features foreword by Arthur Baker and an indepth essay written by Alexis Petridis (Rock and Pop
reviewer for The Guardian).

• All tracks remastered by Nick Robbins at Sound
Mastering

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Having been deck slaying as near their London headquarters as Germany and as far as Canada, goth techno prodigy Lesser Of is steadily approaching double digit release count. With an established residence at queer x trans focused, revolutionary event series Subverted, their efforts have been welcomed to a formidable list of industrial electronic labels and remixed by a tidy sum of high profile scene icons.

Here at Depth.Request our sonars are attuned to emanant potential, and so we conscript Lesser Of to hammer out our fourth acetate offering to date. To this, harsh noise and drone music inspirations are declared, alongside an artistic secret of the trade: lights-off sessions in live room of a recording studio vibrating with the pulse of a bass guitar ran through a freeze pedal were what begot the tracks, and they are well intent on assaulting your headphones with noise. Reeko on the remix - yes, this record fucks.

Prolonged, ominous intro? Nah. Have a face full of Crude Manifestation Of Power instead, as an insatiable, 10-minute long opener braces your ears for a week of ringing with a sonic equivalent of metallic thrashing one could expect from being a sinful, rave-lusting scoundrel. On title-diverting continuation Within My Fragility the words "strength in fragility" are truly alliterated as the pace, abrasiveness and intensity of pummelling are all ramped up fiercely, with linear open hats thrown against them from time to time for good measure. Having reached 140 BPM and concrete mean, Masked proceeds in a well anticipated ra(n)ge: infernal atmosphere, sandy hats and layered tectonic tremors achieved with increasingly undefined low end consisting of a rumble line and rolling kick morphing into abrasive haze. Winding the tempo back a notch, a halftimearranged contemplation Our Descent grows in direct, hyperborean vector: glassy drones and sharp syncopulsation first - atonal reverberations, distorted arpeggios and punchy stabs endwise. Reeko's analog reinvention of Masked convolves the drum structure by borrowing from breakbeat narratives and authorizes the dystopian ambiance to rise and fall on more gradual, panning, confined terms; adding, however, more disorder to the mix with spectrum slicing, high-range chaos.

As you would have learned to expect from Depth.Request, Within My Fragility EP is not an easy listening five-tracker. If by the end of it you find yourself feeling as if you just stepped out of a pounding warehouse at 3AM and you don't know what day it is, you wouldn't have been experiencing this mindspace alone.

The eponymous debut disc from German-Swedish supergroup 4
Wheel Drive went straight to the top spot as Best-Selling Jazz Album
In Germany For 2019. And the media didn’t hold back with their
praise either: “Four first-league jazz musicians with pure joy of playing
and a love of good pop music,” said ZDF’s ‘heute-journal’ about this
spirited and enjoyable group that combines trombonist / singer Nils
Landgren, pianist Michael Wollny, bassist / cellist Lars Danielsson
and drummer Wolfgang Haffner.
 For ‘4 Wheel Drive II’, it is evident that things have shifted up a gear
right from the start, with the rocky, pulsating opening track, ‘Chapter
II’, straight from Wollny’s compositional workbench. Landgren likes to
let his trombone roar like a sports car engine. In similarly dynamic
vein are pieces like Danielsson’s final track of the album, ‘The
Wheelers’, which, thanks to Haffner’s nimble brushwork, makes you
think you’re on a high speed train.
 Compared to the first album, there has been another change, an
increase in the proportion of original compositions written by all of the
participants, as Lars Danielsson, who has contributed a sensitive,
poppy ballad to the new album, ‘Just Another Hour’, remarks.
“Interpretations of worldwide hit songs were a factor behind the huge
success of the debut album, but the ratio to original compositions
here is getting closer to 50:50. That said, the fuel powering 4 Wheel
Drive has remained the same: this band is all about creating music
from deep within, and with like-minded people whom you can
absolutely and implicitly trust to be in the driving seat.”
 “It just flows,” enthuses drummer Haffner, “we’re a group of close
friends with nothing we need to prove, we can just go for it. I've had
so many magic moments with this band, it really is incredible!”
 On the new album, listeners are treated to several new moments of
pure magic, continuing 4 Wheel drive’s illustrious story. For example,
their new instrumental version of the Simon & Garfunkel classic,
‘Sound of Silence’, has something mysteriously Nordic about it. Or
their newly-cast version of the surprisingly infrequently covered
Genesis ballad, ‘Hold On My Heart’, putting it into a jazz context. The
courage to approach pop tunes that have become so ingrained in
many people’s minds from a completely different perspective pays off
in full. Within 4 Wheel Drive are four originals at work, each of whom
can be recognised from the very first note they play or sing.

Bay Area technical death metal entity FABRICANT leverages any musical
tool for their riff and song fabrication
Speed, stillness, technicality, simplicity, consonance, dissonance... are all at play
for the express purpose of telling the stories of humanity's hubris, madness, and
frailty. FABRICANT glimpsed into this black vortex, extracted the raw materials of
inspiration, and refined the chaos into the ten fully actualized, death metal songs
on their debut album "Drudge to the Thicket".
This album was FABRICANT's obsession: a forbidden riddle to solve. From its
beginnings stretching as far back as their 2010 demo and to its ultimate end, this
album inhabited the deepest recesses of their minds as an omnipresent
consumer of thought. With the arrival of this debut, FABRICANT frees themselves
of this thicket. The battle was hard-won, but the next ones inexorably begin. From
new obsessions to delirium to the mundane, consciousness marches onwards,
screaming out at all of existence for answers, only to feebly fall on deaf ears.
Descend into the chaos with FABRICANT.
FABRICANT's debut album "Drudge To The Thicket" is unlike anything you'll hear
in the technical death metal genre all year, truly a unique and singular album of its
own kind. One that has been in the works for over a decade.
FABRICANT features members of celebrated technical death/ black metal outfit
Mefitis.
For fans of Necrophagist, early Pestilence, early Atheist, Defeated Sanity, and
Gorguts

Carbon Music continues its conquest in a special single summoning some of drum & bass' greatest minds, as Goldie & Lenzman make illustrious debuts alongside label pillars Jubei & Submotive.

Two years after their first collab 'Component' (CM002), Submotive & Jubei reforge the foundations upon which Carbon Music was built, in two tracks written with two powerhouses sharing the same ethos.

Goldie reinstills his prowess, linking to form a holy pantheon on 'Game Of The Gods'. 10 years since Jubei released his album on Metalheadz, they collaborate again with a mutual accomplice in Submotive. Reinforcing the core principles, its a celebration of vigour and mysticism; brute force balanced with celestial pads - bringing shared beliefs full circle towards a new golden era.

Lenzman makes his intro on the flip, with a touch of nonchalent class on the effortlessly rolling 'Members Only'. Having all released with The North Quarter and Metalheadz, the trio share a close bond, developed over years of performing and travelling together. Its an innate understanding; a brotherhood; three elements that progress, intensify and naturally form, in a way that no others can.

DJ Support:

Goldie
Skeptical
Lenzman
Jubei
Bryan Gee
Halogenix

The story of the invention of the term, 'deepfunk' is probably only known among fans and practitioners of this niche-genre. In short, it all started in the 1990s when DJs like Keb Darge, Mark 'Snowboy' Cotgrove and others began spinning obscure and feral Funk 45 RPM singles from local American bands, ostensibly generating another sub-category branch off of the mighty Northern Soul tree. The dance-club phenomenon inevitably spilled over to contemporary groups on the funk scene which immediately tried to record their music the way their idols did. The 'rare groove' and 'acid jazz' movements had run their course and there was a concerted effort to reinstate primitive idiomatic styles and techniques into the music, most notably by 90s funk collective The Poets of Rhythm. As more years passed by the number of bands steadily increased (although in tiny numbers, compared to the mainstream market). Almost every country had a representative with the majority of them coming from the United Kingdom. The deepfunk sound was still a niche, however a very few bands made it onto the mainstream charts, most notably Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings.

At the height of the retro-soul movement a questionable development took place. As more bands arrived on the scene, the production became more and more polished and pop-ish. Some of that squeaky-clean tidiness began to creep into the recordings, encouraged in part by the signature sounds of the digital recording technology available at that time. Some bands even tried to jump onto the possibility of promoting their music as 'deepfunk' although they were actually playing slick, funky pop music. This way some people who thought they were listening to raw, energetic funk actually felt quite ambushed when hit with real deepfunk. In fact, a certain percentage of funk music produced within the past 20 years does not deserve to be described as 'deepfunk' at all. Fortunately there were (and are) some pleasant exceptions which did not just imitate but actually rendered amazing funk music just like some of the finest funk combos of the 1960s and 70s.

One of those creative minds is without a doubt Joel Ricci aka Lucky Brown. Originally from Seattle, Washington, USA, he has enriched the deepfunk community since the mid-2000s with his stellar abilities. He is not only an amazing musician playing multiple instruments, but also a brilliant composer, arranger, and producer too. But for us here at Tramp he is much more, a close friend and remarkable human being. Whenever we were struggling, whether with the label or in private life, Joel and his musical work helped us to overcome everything and to keep going our path.

So here we are in 2023. The songs you are listening to right now are the complete Space Dream collection, split into two parts, representing the two living-room recording sessions from which his 2011 Tramp Records debut was compiled. Each fully remastered album contains unreleased material and comes with brand new, beautifully reimagined artwork by Ricci himself, housed in an authentic 1960s tip-on cover. A first class product from a first class musician for the discerning funk enthusiast.

The story of the invention of the term, 'deepfunk' is probably only known among fans and practitioners of this niche-genre. In short, it all started in the 1990s when DJs like Keb Darge, Mark 'Snowboy' Cotgrove and others began spinning obscure and feral Funk 45 RPM singles from local American bands, ostensibly generating another sub-category branch off of the mighty Northern Soul tree. The dance-club phenomenon inevitably spilled over to contemporary groups on the funk scene which immediately tried to record their music the way their idols did. The 'rare groove' and 'acid jazz' movements had run their course and there was a concerted effort to reinstate primitive idiomatic styles and techniques into the music, most notably by 90s funk collective The Poets of Rhythm. As more years passed by the number of bands steadily increased (although in tiny numbers, compared to the mainstream market). Almost every country had a representative with the majority of them coming from the United Kingdom. The deepfunk sound was still a niche, however a very few bands made it onto the mainstream charts, most notably Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings.

At the height of the retro-soul movement a questionable development took place. As more bands arrived on the scene, the production became more and more polished and pop-ish. Some of that squeaky-clean tidiness began to creep into the recordings, encouraged in part by the signature sounds of the digital recording technology available at that time. Some bands even tried to jump onto the possibility of promoting their music as 'deepfunk' although they were actually playing slick, funky pop music. This way some people who thought they were listening to raw, energetic funk actually felt quite ambushed when hit with real deepfunk. In fact, a certain percentage of funk music produced within the past 20 years does not deserve to be described as 'deepfunk' at all. Fortunately there were (and are) some pleasant exceptions which did not just imitate but actually rendered amazing funk music just like some of the finest funk combos of the 1960s and 70s.

One of those creative minds is without a doubt Joel Ricci aka Lucky Brown. Originally from Seattle, Washington, USA, he has enriched the deepfunk community since the mid-2000s with his stellar abilities. He is not only an amazing musician playing multiple instruments, but also a brilliant composer, arranger, and producer too. But for us here at Tramp he is much more, a close friend and remarkable human being. Whenever we were struggling, whether with the label or in private life, Joel and his musical work helped us to overcome everything and to keep going our path.

So here we are in 2023. The songs you are listening to right now are the complete Space Dream collection, split into two parts, representing the two living-room recording sessions from which his 2011 Tramp Records debut was compiled. Each fully remastered album contains unreleased material and comes with brand new, beautifully reimagined artwork by Ricci himself, housed in an authentic 1960s tip-on cover. A first class product from a first class musician for the discerning funk enthusiast.

"We never even planned to release a full-length album, and here we are with our second! "Deities of Deathlike Sleep" was conceived and recorded with the same mindset and the same team as our previous recordings, keeping it quick, spontaneous and enjoyable. This time it turned out a bit more dynamic, with the pummeling fury interspersed with some doom, gloom and darkness. But still, it's simply ten tracks of Swedish Fucking Death Metal, the way we love it"

The vocalist Mikael Stanne is also active in "Dark Tranquility" and highly popular band "The Halo Effect".

Other members from Dark Tranquility, Novarupta, Pagandoom, Vordor, Novarupta, Ex-Katatonia and more!

The previous album "Into The Maw of Death" was well received and topped the charts in Sweden when released!

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

Indies Only LP is opaque green vinyl. Both LPs come with a download. The moment the needle drops on Bite, the new A Giant Dog record, one’s conception of what an A Giant Dog record sounds like bends like space and time around a starship running at lightspeed. The biggest point of departure is that Bite is a concept album, concerning characters who find themselves moving in and out of a virtual reality called Avalonia. A Giant Dog’s first album of original songs since 2017’s Toy, Bite finds the band Sabrina Ellis, Andrew Cashen, Danny Blanchard, Graham Low, and Andy Bauer at their peak as musicians, challenging themselves with more complex arrangements and subject matter that forced them out of their heads and into those of the characters who occupy this supposed paradise. “We had to find ourselves within, or project ourselves into, the principal characters. We developed them, got to know their minds, emotions, and motivations, and then expressed those in nine songs,” Ellis explains. Themes of addiction, gender fluidity, living ethically in a capitalist society, physical autonomy, avarice, grief, and consent bubble beneath the promised happiness of Avalonia. This is evident in songs like “Different Than,” where Ellis sings, “My body can’t explain the things my mind don’t comprehend” as if societal gender pressure is squeezing its protagonist out of their skin. The songs on Bite are full of bombast, at turns calling to mind the spacefaring operatic rock of Electric Light Orchestra and the high drama of an Ennio Morricone film score. The album’s narrative sweep is epic in scope, its characters facing impossible odds and certain doom, existing as comfortably with the sci-fi grandiosity of Thin Lizzy’s Jailbreak as it does with the high fantasy of Dio and Iron Maiden. Appropriately, A Giant Dog came to this narrative armed to the teeth with new ideas, unleashing synthesizers and string sections to create what Ellis describes as orchestral, symphonic, futuristic punk. To achieve this, they left their home turf of Austin, Texas, for La Cuve Studio, just outside of Angers, France. Living in the French countryside, A Giant Dog laid down their vision of the future against a decidedly pastoral backdrop. On walks from Angers to La Cuve, Ellis says that they “would see many things, and also nothing at all. Swans on the river. Romani people living in little trailers, with a side hut built for their dog. A juggler on a unicycle—not fucking with you.” “We thought we wouldn’t be allowed back in France after this trip, to be honest,” they continued. “Five loud, stomping, clapping, rowdy Americans who ran through the streets of Angers for three weeks in November 2022.” The experience capped two years of planning and writing, fleshing out the universe of Avalonia beyond the bounds of most concept albums. The resulting nine songs do not merely occupy this space: They’ve lived in it, and they want out.

Label head DJ SUPERHERB debuts under this alias on Full Dose, in collaboration with fellow Glaswegian compatriot, TEN YEARS LOST. " Concrete City Merchandise " is a timely selection of iced out beats - a perfect companion to an unusually sweltering summer.

A surprising collision of minds has produced an album of near-horizontal belters. "Ocarina of Time", with its dusty vocal loops and shimmering high end induces a lazy euphoria like no other. The title's reference to Zelda aligns the pair with a long list of talented and game-obsessed beatmakers, matching the vibe of the track perfectly.

In an album clearly representing an evolution of the Full Dose sound, "Yeah"s dembow programming and stabby riff will be familiar to those who've been around since the beginning. Combine this with the clear G-funk influences found throughout, and you're on to a winner. "Pagan Golf" continues this amalgamation of styles, resulting in a sound that's perfectly Full Dose.

In a similar vein, "On the Rise" is as true to the West Coast sound as you're likely to find this side of the Atlantic. This hit sounds like the housier end of Stones Throw filtered through the mesh of the Glaswegian underground. Moogy synths carry loopy vocals, with the occasional fizzy and elongated riser to ensure you're not too deep in a trance.

Retaining these themes but slowing the pace right down is "Key Notez". Pulsating samples of running water sit low in the mix, providing a bed for the emotive pads and gently arpeggiated synth lines. The track somehow manages to combine elements of R&B with the more emotional end of electronic music, in a way that's rarely found."

Odd Nosdam really doesn’t need an introduction, unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last 20 years then undoubtedly you’ll know what’s up, and what an absolute humbling pleasure it is to now introduce Nosdam to the Where To Now? catalogue with two new cuts that flow from ethereal, meditative contemplation through to downtown abstracted machine damage..

The record opens with ‘End is Important’, A looping, spiritual lament which forces observation, or resolution around the concept of ‘Endings.’ Passages from Tsunetomo Yamamoto’s ‘Hagakure’ seep in and out of the mix throughout, where spiraling and glistening arpeggios dance across a glorious choral mantra, intended to elevate minds towards some kind of plume of awakening. This is a heady and deep cut which finds Odd Nosdam in full introspection mode.

‘Here to Know’ recalls the work of Patrick Cowley in his best downtown ultra slow swinging funk suit, or the more obvious nods to John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13 OST. However, this is far from a straight up ode to creeping machine funk - Nosdam’s injection of energetic, pulsing synth stabs move the piece into a more surreal territory, creating a masterful and experimental injection of life and colour into an otherwise smoked out landscape.

“Where I found myself when Where To Now? reached out - asking if I'd consider a vinyl release with the label - was over in Barcelona spending time with loved ones at my family's apartment in the district of Sant Gervasi.

After my initial contact with WTN?, I ventured north to Cadaqués to visit Salvador Dalí's house in Port Lligat, where Gala & Dalí spent some 50 summers. While inspired asf touring the glorious property, I captured recordings from a looping video screening in an open air theater. These recordings became the foundation of Here To Know.

Sometimes there’s a break in the road. End Is Important was realized after re-watching the Jim Jarmusch film, Ghost Dog. Stealthy and evanescent, a familiar voice carries this slow-diver with a message to the world warped cruiser in all of us.” - Odd Nosdam

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic travelling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviours are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behaviour has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behaviour and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic traveling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviors are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behavior has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behavior and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

From Elvis in Memphis retains the distinction of being the most cohesive, passionate, mature, and emotionally invested record Elvis Presley ever made. Named one of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time by Rolling Stone, the white-soul landmark features backing by "The "Memphis Boys" and teems with rhythm-heavy country, gospel, R&B, and blues. Lauded for its natural, open sonics, the 1969 set now comes across with remarkable clarity, presence, and warmth courtesy of a premium restoration befitting a king.

Mastered from the original master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and strictly limited to 10,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of From Elvis in Memphis unearths the ravishing inner detail, sticky rhythms, and brilliant arrangements of Chips Moman's inspired production. In short, this unparalleled reissue unlocks the spirit and gestalt of the recording and takes you inside American Sound Studio. It also brings you up close and personal with Presley's singing – widely considered by many to represent the finest of his career – located dead-centre amidst the instrumental hurricane. Equally impressive are the contributions of the aforementioned Boys, and how their Southern-brewed playing – a balance of leisure with swiftness, grandiosity with concision, freedom with control – dovetails with Presley's vernacular.

The lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S From Elvis in Memphis pressing befit its extremely select status. Housed in a deluxe box, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. No expense has been spared. Aurally and visually, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artifact meant to be preserved, pored over, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the images to the finishes.

Sharing much in common with the full, rich, orchestrated Stax Records sound, From Elvis in Memphis oozes with choice nuances and distinctive flourishes that on this ultra-hi-fi edition not only arise with previously unheard transparency and sharpness, but complement and serve the whole. Take the specific tonalities and blending of violas, cellos, and horns that communicate mood and serve as counterpoints. Or lively performances of the backing quintet, and how the piano and Hammond organ trace the lines of the melodies and Presley's lead. Listen to the uplifting support provided by the cadre of backing vocalists (more than a dozen credited), unrivalled in Presley's canon and a precursor to the approach he'd soon adopt in Las Vegas.

Of course, From Elvis in Memphis precedes the icon's transition into his glitzy jumpsuit phase – and follows his merciful move away from the hoary soundtrack work that consumed nearly a decade of his creative life and prompted a rebirth that began in 1968. As the bridge between eras, the record seizes on Presley's rejuvenated attitude and commitment to quality, facets that drip from the fervency with which he delivers every word. For the same reasons, and for the fact it traces back to Presley's original roots and hip-shaking guise, the album further remains a cornerstone of American music history.

Writing about the work's 40th anniversary for Rolling Stone, James Hunter correctly observed: "From Elvis in Memphis represented the full-on immersion in the Memphis idea of Elvis Presley, the American singer second only to Frank Sinatra for the ability to conjure a particular sonic universe with his merest vocal utterance. And from the album's first song, in which a bluesy Elvis espies a woman 'Wearin' That Loved On Look,' to its last, in which a more straight-up-pop Elvis regrets the injustices of life 'In the Ghetto,' his fully engaged, newly energized voice finds its most logical album setting in years."

Incredibly, Presley and company completed more than two dozen cuts for From Elvis in Memphis. One, "Suspicious Minds," turned into the vocalist's final chart-topping single and lingers as one of his most beloved rock n' roll numbers. Even though it never formally appeared on the record, the non-album song is included here as a bonus track and attains newfound depth, energy, and swagger. Coupled with the other dozen tracks – including the sultry "Power of My Love," balladic take of Dallas Frazier's "True Love Travels on a Gravel Road," and driving cover of Hank Snow's I'm Moving On" – it makes for the finest Elvis listening experience available.

When I first heard Natalie Rose LeBrecht's time-suspending, air-ionizing music, more than twenty years ago, I thought "this kid is on to something." She's been proving that thought right ever since. Her recordings, from the teenage 4-track tapes she made as Greenpot Bluepot to the recent albums under her own name, have been fascinating dispatches from her progressively deeper dives into her gorgeous, weird, wildly idiomatic aesthetic. Holy Prana Open Game is a jewel of intensely personal cosmic music, created through a remarkable process of openness, craftiness, addition and subtraction. It belongs to a tradition of albums that document a rich, meditative sound as it rises up to join the world outside its creators' minds: Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness, Harmonia's Musik von Harmonia, Philip Glass's North Star, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock.

"Meditative" is specifically the idea here: Holy Prana Open Game had its origins in the fourteen days LeBrecht spent silently meditating in her home's small music room in the summer of 2019. "I came out of that bursting with the will to create new music," she says, and she created it sound-first. LeBrecht taught herself to program an analog synthesizer's timbres from scratch, and built a new set of glacial, heady compositions out of them, eventually singing to accompany the keyboard parts she was playing.

Then she closed her eyes at her computer, "let my mind be clear and open, imagined light pouring down through me, and began auto-writing to my memory of the music playing through my mind. Most of the lyrics emerged this way, and then I used my conscious mind to refine them a bit at the end." One other song came along with LeBrecht's new pieces, a cover that seems wildly unlikely from the outside and makes total sense in its context: it's a version of Atoms for Peace's "Amok" (which had been created by improvisation and editing, too), mutated into her own idiolect.

In early March of 2020, LeBrecht recorded Holy Prana Open Game's analog synth parts with Martin Bisi at his studio in Brooklyn--and then the world shut down. As you may have gathered, LeBrecht is very much a spiritual, head-in-the-stars type. She is also extremely hardcore, and if making the art she wants to make means doing things the hard way, she cracks her knuckles and gets down to it. Within weeks, she had taught herself how to record, mix and edit with a digital audio workstation. She recorded her vocal parts (sometimes multi-tracked into a radiant choir) at home, assembled a rough mix of the album, and sent it off to her collaborators.

LeBrecht spent some years studying with and assisting La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela at their legendary sound-and-light installation, the Dream House. As with their work, her singular, precisely focused vision is shored up by its openness to artistic voices beyond her own. For Holy Prana Open Game, she worked with the Australian guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White (both of Dirty Three, the Tren Brothers and innumerable other projects), as well as woodwind player David Lackner, a longtime presence on her recordings.

Turner and White have been playing together in one context or another since 1985; in the summer of 2020, they were only blocks from each other in Melbourne, Australia, whose strict lockdown meant they couldn't meet up to record together. So both of them, as well as Lackner, recorded their improvisational additions to LeBrecht's rough mixes individually, often without hearing each other's contributions. "I had asked them to play as much as they could on each track," she says, "and told them that I would edit it all down in post, so I had a lot of source material of theirs to work with."

LeBrecht arranged and edited the recordings from all four of their homes to flow together like breath across the duration of her suite. Prana, one of the album's central conceits, is in fact the Sanskrit word for breath, with the connotation of the breath of life. Like LeBrecht's music, prana flows at its own pace, and demands stillness to take in fully--but it's also subtly playful and surprising, a force that can be as light as air or as immersive as the atmosphere itself.