Introducing to EarToGround Records one of the leading lights in abstract techno, as we showcase work from the brilliant Argentinian producer Translate. Translate comes with a very well-defined discipline when it comes to techno; it demands your patience and full attention at all times.
MEMORIALS jump off the waterslides and head above the clouds with their stunning second album, ‘All Clouds Bring Not Rain’. The duo of Verity Susman and Matthew Simms (formerly of Electrelane and WIRE) locked themselves away in a studio in a barn secluded deep in the woods in southwestern France and re-emerged with a beautiful, unusual record that is both melodic and unconventional. For such an ambitious album it’s striking that it was written, performed, recorded and mixed solely by the two of them. Sounding like an unearthed classic, MEMORIALS twist their influences into their own unmistakable sound. Imagine Nico singing with Can produced by David Axelrod and you’re somewhere in the right ballpark.
The record draws inspiration from a wide range of music including folk, dub, post punk, experimental tape music, 60s soul, garage rock, 70s spiritual jazz and Canterbury prog. This attention to detail in their sound meant finding several other studios to get what they needed to record with, including a harpsichord at 4AD’s studio in London and a vibraphone and vintage Leslie speaker in Stereolab drummer Andy Ramsay’s studio Press Play. Verity’s distinctive, unadorned singing is a focal point of the record, moving from tender to wild. Her vocal melodies quickly become earworms, providing the tuneful heart around which the songs’ more unorthodox elements are arranged, which is where Matthew’s unconventional approach to recording and production comes to the fore. With their adventurous arrangements, classic songwriting skills and innovative production techniques, MEMORIALS have created another mesmerising listen that’s accomplished and compelling in its unique approach yet remains dizzyingly immersive - just like their acclaimed live shows.
Mr Bongo reissues, in full for the first time, a pioneering Trinidadian steelband album from 1979. Masterminded by the key and highly influential calypso / soca steelpan player, Len "Boogsie" Sharpe, Phase2 showcases Boogsie’s innovative fusion of jazz, funk and Caribbean rhythms in stunning style.
Dubbed ‘the Mozart of Pan’ by Wynton Marsalis, Boogsie began playing pan at the age of five and composed his own music by the age of nine years old. Across a long and illustrious career, he has won seven National Panorama Championships in Trinidad and Tobago with his compositions and band, a world Steelband Music Festival with his original compositions “In the Rainforest”, and two Notting Hill Panorama Championships with Mangrove Steel Orchestra. Over the years he has also played with Andre Tanker, Lord Shorty, Lord Kitchener, Leston Paul, Clive Zanda, and other amazing Caribbean greats. Len became an arranger for the National Steelband of Trinidad and Tobago and is a cultural ambassador for the country promoting the instrument.
New music from The Strokes arrives now, beginning with a new song, “Going Shopping” released today. Produced by Rick Rubin, Reality Awaits is the 7th album from The Strokes. Full track list includes nine new songs — set for release on June 26.
Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.
Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.
REVIEWS
"Utterly gorgeous. This magnificent album is the gift that keeps on giving. Downright essential"
Electronic Sound (No. 6 Album Of The Year 2022)
"A cosmic swoon that plays with closeness and distance in the realm of revelation"
Pitchfork - 7.6
"Gloriously introspective"
Sunday Times
2022 Album Of The Year
The Thin Air
Joe Fujinoki centered the compositions of his latest album Glass Torso round the idea of the fragility of the human body. Fujinoki described the narrative thread of the album as that of “holding the shape of a human body as if it might shatter like glass”. The precariousness of the body, the essence of the body as defined by Fujinoki as the torso, and the object relations between the boundaries of dialectical exercises pack themselves into his creative process.
Fujinoki recorded Glass Torso exclusively with analog synthesizers, stumbling in and out of structural loops to find space for accidental discoveries. The ten pieces of recorded material feel somewhere on the edge of typified form, feeling like a vascular system pumping in and out its undulating liquidities. Maybe this is the hollowed space held together by Fujinoki’s notion of the torso where you hear a microscopic world, dubby and generative. Fujinoki is adept at organizing this realm of subtle sound sources, giving proper considerations of shared tonal space. Seemingly, this handling of the precarity of sonic material elucidates Fujinoki’s mature attention to detail.
Ambient music genre tropes often affirm the listeners vessel for escape and dissociation. It provides an intoxicating allure by respite from an overwhelming exterior reality far outside the listeners controls. Here this space becomes apolitical, or its protest vocabulary softer and subtle. Fujinoki does not aim to tackle hyperobject topics on how to course correct the world, but he does something increasingly rarer to come across. On Glass Torso an alternative space is created not as shelter, but as a meditation on negotiation and compromise. This twenty eight minutes of audio lays down a foundation for imagination, for imagining how to negotiate the fragility of the self. Zoomed out, the implications of his negotiative sonics can be a playground for broader reflections on distributive care and attention.
Fujinoki says he feels “alert” to his physicality and placement in the world amidst vast digital cultures creating impositions on him and his surroundings. On Glass Torso he creates a concretized space on a vinyl record, where the virtual and the tangible antagonize one another that create the spectacle of the listening experience. This spectacle is a soft one, a considered one, and an utmost enjoyable one. Fujinoki juggles opposing forces brilliantly, and formulates an exquisite palette of soft passing music so he can also help the listener with the exquisite burden of their own Glass Torso.”
Midway through Martin Luther King, Jr's historic speech at the 1963 March on Washington, a voice rang out from behind him: "Tell them about the dream, Martin!" That voice belonged to Mahalia Jackson, King's close friend and one of the most revered gospel singers of the 20th century - Glorious Mahalia, a visionary tribute to Jackson's life by the internationally renowned Kronos Quartet, uses that moment as a springboard to explore the depth of Jackson's musical craft and its impact on the Civil Rights Movement, including her relationship with Clarence Jones and Studs Terkel, other luminaries of the time
Swedish visionary Boko Yout is releasing their long-awaited debut album GUSTO, out via Hoopdiggas Recordings.
GUSTO is Boko Yout’s debut album – a kaleidoscopic journey through memory, trauma, humour and healing. Framed as a fictional therapy programme led by the eccentric Dr. Gusto, each track represents a confrontation with a different shadow of the self: unspoken fears, inherited burdens, or unresolved inner conflicts. But GUSTO is not just about darkness – it’s also about hope, longing and the light that makes those shadows visible in the first place.
Boko Yout weaves together raw emotion, spiritual symbolism and bold experimentation. Referencing vodun philosophy, Jungian archetypes and post-genre production, they draws inspiration from artists like Yves Tumor, Odd Future and LCD Soundsystem. The result is a debut that feels more like a sonic manifesto – driven by love, intention and a deep commitment to artistic freedom.
In Gianfranco Rosi’s portrait of Naples, Sotto le Nuvole, the ground shakes periodically. Between Mount Vesuvius and the Tyrrhenian Sea, the fumaroles of the Phlegraean Fields hiss volcanic gas and steam. Below the sleeping volcano, modern day Naples emerges in black and white and fills with voices, with lives. From the traces of history and the concerns of the present, Rosi documents a city immersed in its continuous past, with Daniel Blumberg’s minimal soundscape hovering in a sonic space between liquid and air.
Tasked with creating a soundscape that would suspend space within Rosi’s film, Blumberg called upon the extended technique of saxophonists Seymour Wright and John Butcher to create a gossamer fabric of traces and sounds abstracted from their instruments. Having transitioned from theoretical physics to the saxophone, John Butcher has always deeply considered space in the context of his playing. His concerns are with flow, density and how the saxophone is situated in the living world. Zeroing in on the core sonic properties of the mechanical and acoustic components of the saxophone, Seymour Wright has integrated its every breath, reed vibration, keypad clatter and hissed microtone of his alto into his own, unique improvisational language. In his work with these two seminal players, Blumberg makes his most concentrated soundtrack to date - reinforcing the film's sense of overlapping time and space, and pushing at the limits of experimentation.
Initially recorded in Daniel’s flat in London, Butcher and Wright centre themselves around long, consistent tones, so soft that it seems breath is being gently pulled from the saxophone's bell by an invisible hand. Blumberg himself adds haunting bass harmonica, and recordings of Wright’s launeddas - a traditional and ancient triple pipe polyphonic reed instrument from Sardinia, Italy. Blumberg then travelled to the volcanic region of Baia, next to Pompeii. Once a flourishing classical Roman city loved by Nero, Baia slowly sank under hydrothermal pressure, leaving the city in a kind of geological purgatory. Using specialised geophones and hydrophones, Blumberg took those initial recordings and amplified them underwater, sending them calling out across the ruins of Baia’s mosaics, Nymphaeum statues and villas.
“It was important to me that the music was whispered in the same landscape that Gianfranco has worked for the past three years, so that you can hear the volcanic air gulping, the lapping of the waves, the steam and bubbles popping against John and Seymour’s saxophone breaths – an echo from a suspended time.”
What emerges is deeply melancholic, tender, subtle and right at the edges of audio technology. Submerged in an aquarian mausoleum, the mysterious vibrations of the saxophone and its bell become an echo of an echo, wading from the future into the past. ‘Sotto le Nuvole’ is less a soundtrack than a process of aeration - a sonic puncture in the material of the film which allows its central message to breathe, and a remarkable experiment at the limits of the saxophone’s possibility.
