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Parsley Sounds was the glorious debut album for Mo Wax by Parsley Sound. The album was one of the iconic label’s final releases before it closed in 2003 and locating a clean copy has been extremely tricky of late, unless you're flush enough to drop 150 notes on it. Mercifully, the Be With reissue, put together with invaluable assistance from the group, should remedy this situation. It's a lo-fi, bass-heavy, blunted beat treat, warped with heat haze and dreamy soft-psych and has been criminally under-heard for far too long.

As with most cult-like records, Parsley Sounds has many influential fans, far and wide. From Four Tet and Caribou to NTS's modern day breakfast hero Flo Dill, its reputation has only grown in stature. At the time, the notoriously hard-to-please Pitchfork garlanded it with a scarcely achievable 8.8 whilst, just recently, the Numero Group's Rob Sevier described it as a "visionary bit of proto-Salvia Palth (or Steve Lacy)" via a Ghostly International missive.

Parsley Sound comprised super-talented duo Preston Mead and Dan Sargassa. They released an early single (the perfect "Twilight Mushrooms", featured here) on Warp Records as Slum, before signing to Mo Wax. Hidden behind a wall of sound - fuzzy layers of beats, bleeps and symphonic synths - they were convinced they made mainstream pop music. And, in many respects, Parsley Sounds really is a beautiful pop album. It overflows with memorable, gorgeous melodies and inspired songcraft. As the contemporaneous Pitchfork review correctly had it: "Parsley Sounds is one of those rare records that manage to sound modest while frequently pushing the sonic envelope."

Killer opener "Ease Yourself And Glide" is a thing of aching, soft-psych, wonky beat-beauty. A melodic masterpiece, part Crosby, Stills & Nash, part proto-Koushik, it presents a melancholy falsetto, surging bass and blunted lead guitar. As it climaxes, gorgeous strings are ushered in to see us out. Sublime. "Twilight Mushrooms" is up next and it's an acid-drenched, strung-out acoustic-led campfire wonder. Amid layers of tape-hiss and beautiful, sun-dappled strings, its understated vocal track provides a haze of wistful innocence.

The breezy "Spring's Near" is a krautrock-inspired chiming instrumental of heavenly excellence, its warm, skipping, motorik groove and dreamy synths completely infectious. Another total highlight, the technicolour "Yo Yo" initially presents itself as a more abstract, bleepy offering but as it organically swells into ever more beautiful places, with the addition of a choppy insistent drum loop, flute bursts, horns and sweeping strings, it puts one in mind of early Manitoba and Four Tet releases. Shimmering, blissed-out greatness.

The celestial harmonies and glistening harps of the wonderfully beatless, serenely sullen "Ocean House" are very much in conversation with late-60s meditative psych whilst, closing out Side A, the jaw-dropping, lushly experimental effort "Find The Heat" comes on like Arthur Russell meets Brian Wilson. Yep, *that* good.

Side B opens with the warped, bleepy "Stevie", a brief but beautifully wonky, soulful and intricate instrumental. The more upfront vocals that propel the fuzzy "Platonic Rate" have a refreshing swagger to them, the heavy bass and neck-snapping in-the-red beats too much for any system to deal with whilst the guitars and strings have a sweeping, cinematic feel which just beguiles. The slow, urbane soul of "Candlemice" will stop you in your tracks, no matter what you're doing. It carries a delicate sadness, as does much of the album in that classic "down lifting" style we so love here at Be With.

The fuzzing, buzzing "Templechurchmansions" is a searing, soulful dubwise detonation. Heavily stoned with slow-burning jazzy snatches and a tense, moody atmosphere, it's a Tricky-adjacent gem. The album rounds out brilliantly with the ominous instrumental "Neon Breeze" before giving way to the propulsive, almost incongruous punk-funk / disco-dub of secret "untitled" track "Caution", a scratchy, smacked-out groove-fuelled workout with a female vocal dripping with 'tude. Just sensational.

Under the watchful eye - and attentive ears! - of Parsley Sound themselves, the audio for Parsley Sounds has been carefully mastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, with a few much needed tweaks here and there, according to the artist's wishes. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at the always stellar Record Industry in Holland.

Preston and Dan always thought the colours on the first vinyl pressing looked a bit "washed out" vis-a-vis the original artwork which was way more vibrant. We feel we've got it popping back to the original intention with the restoration work here at Be With HQ. So with the audio and artwork now approaching completeness after 20 years, this long overdue re-issue could be considered its definitive vinyl release.

It is to the detriment of our understanding of musicality that we mostly measure it by the capacity to produce, and much less by the capacity to receive some sort of acoustic information or event. The virtuosity of listening, of understanding the sonic situation and its potential, is, however, that which defines one's capacity to interact – with other musicians, with the audience, and with the environment. This could also be taken to mean that an ethical act is implied in the situation of listening – the decision to relate, to be attentive to, to actively position oneself in relation to what is heard.

Rarely is this capacity so thoroughly pronounced and ethically conscious as in the case of Manja Ristić, the Belgrade-born and Royal Academy of Music-schooled musician, composer, sound and multimedia artist (the list could go on), who currently lives on the island of Korčula in the Croatian part of the Adriatic. Ristić’s recent, field recording-based work, is indeed all about attentiveness, most of all towards the environment and the acoustic traces of the endangered ecological layers of her old-new Mediterranean surroundings. With that in mind, it is indeed no wonder that her newest album draws from Milton’s Paradise Lost, which could easily be the anti-slogan of the endangered Croatian coast, eaten up by the pressures of touristification and the usurpation and privatization of once common space. More precisely, the album is inspired by one of the fifty Gustave Doré illustrations of Milton’s epic, Him, fast sleeping, soon he found, In labyrinth of many a round, self-rolled, from which it draws its title. The verses and the scene are from Book IX, and depict the moment Satan inhabits the Serpent, the beginning of his subversion of God’s autocratic rule, as some interpretations would have it.

For Ristić, the actual Paradise she introduces us to is in a state of imbalance – the idyllic soundscapes of her island surroundings overlain with sonic anxiety, such as on the album’s first track, The Flies, with its unrelenting, nervous buzzing evoking the ominous Biblical entity of Beelzebub, or The Lord of the Flies. The next track, Whales, which beautifully utilizes archival whale recordings, could also be taken to establish an intertextual relation to Milton through Melville, whose Moby Dick was strongly influenced by Paradise Lost. The middle track of the album, dedicated to the Croatian-American painter and muralist Maksimilijan Vanka, uses to great, unsettling effect what to my ears sounds like a buried hydrophone, a technique often employed by Ristić in her work, giving us a rough, grinding impression of water beating the pebbles over a high-pitched drone. But perhaps the most ominous, pessimistic image is painted in The Flag Pole, in which the symbol of revolutionary victory (I’m thinking of the Yugoslav modernist Tin Ujević and his proto-avant-garde sonnet Farewell from 1914) becomes a source of terrifying sonic unease, as we are listening to the incessant sound of its rope hitting the metal pole. However, with Dlana Night comes relief – the drones become airier, calmer; there is a distant notion of people, dogs, everyday life, all shrouded in the calming sound of the crickets on the island of Silba. Ristić, ultimately, serves us some hope on this wonderful new album, showing us that something has been lost, but that something can also be gained through the thoughtful attention with which she listens to the world around her.

„My recording techniques all boil down to one thing – intuition. I do not use expensive or highly sensitive equipment nor do I employ special techniques. On the contrary, I believe that the information regarding a space or an object can be recorded well enough on an average device. My personal guideline when recording sound is the positioning of myself as the listening medium, active and with the intention of establishing a connection that is sometimes intellectual, sometimes conceptual, and sometimes phenomenological.” - Manja Ristić, in an interview for Kulturpunkt.hr

Repress

To emerge from a global pandemic with a renewed sense of situational awareness, hard won insight, and a new album is the kind of move we've come to expect from THRICE over the last twenty years. With Horizons/East, Dustin Kensrue and his bandmates address, with candor and courage, the fragile and awkward arrangements that pass for civilization, while inviting us to dwell more knowingly within our own lives. Without surrendering any of the energy and hard edge of their previous albums, they've given us a profoundly meditative work which serves as a musical summons to everyday attentiveness. Since forming THRICE with guitarist Teppei Teranishi, bassist Eddie Breckenridge, and drummer Riley Breckenridge in 1998, Kensrue has never been one to back down from a mental fight. This mood is set by the opening synth-driven number "Color of the Sky," which sounds well-suited to accompany the closing credits of the Stranger Things season finale. Think Flying Lotus giving way to Elbow and setting the listener down in a new dimension. A self-recorded effort, Horizons/East conveys a palpable sense of danger, determination, and possibility.

To emerge from a global pandemic with a renewed sense of situational awareness, hard won insight, and a new album is the kind of move we've come to expect from THRICE over the last twenty years

With Horizons/East, Dustin Kensrue and his bandmates address, with candor and courage, the fragile and awkward arrangements that pass for civilization, while inviting us to dwell more knowingly within our own lives. Without surrendering any of the energy and hard edge of their previous albums, they've given us a profoundly meditative work which serves as a musical summons to everyday attentiveness.Since forming THRICE with guitarist Teppei Teranishi, bassist Eddie Breckenridge, and drummer Riley Breckenridge in 1998, Kensrue has never been one to back down from a mental fight. This mood is set by the opening synthdriven number "Color of the Sky," which sounds well- suited to accompany the closing credits of the Stranger Things season finale. Think Flying Lotus giving way to Elbow and setting the listener down in a new dimension. A self-recorded effort, Horizons/ East conveys a palpable sense of danger, determination, and possibility.

To emerge from a global pandemic with a renewed sense of situational awareness, hard won insight, and a new album is the kind of move we've come to expect from THRICE over the last twenty years. With Horizons/East, Dustin Kensrue and his bandmates address, with candor and courage, the fragile and awkward arrangements that pass for civilization, while inviting us to dwell more knowingly within our own lives. Without surrendering any of the energy and hard edge of their previous albums, they've given us a profoundly meditative work which serves as a musical summons to everyday attentiveness. Since forming THRICE with guitarist Teppei Teranishi, bassist Eddie Breckenridge, and drummer Riley Breckenridge in 1998, Kensrue has never been one to back down from a mental fight. This mood is set by the opening synth-driven number "Color of the Sky," which sounds well-suited to accompany the closing credits of the Stranger Things season finale. Think Flying Lotus giving way to Elbow and setting the listener down in a new dimension. A self-recorded effort, Horizons/East conveys a palpable sense of danger, determination, and possibility.