GROWING BIN RECORDS News

30 years old and sounding better than ever!
The growing bin is over the moon to present a vinyl reissue of Maim That Tune,
the timeless downbeat album that many regard as Cobby & McSherry's best joint effort.
Back on wax for it's 30th birthday - remastered with finesse by master Sergey Luginin
it will blow the minds of those who have listened to to it for hundreds of times
and those who have the pleasure to be At Home In Space for the first time.

Following a fallow 2023, a rejuvenated Growing Bin return to your turntable with this sublime collaborative LP from Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova. On their first foray into the physical, the duo expand the spectral ambience and medicated breaks of their earlier work with lithe touches of organic jazz and Cafe Del Mar cool, creating a complex assemblage of dreamy downbeat and emotive electronica that's entirely easy on the ears.

Opener "Pozhaluysta" seduces with smart syncopation and beguiling melody, its flute and fretwork finding ample space to slip around Natasha's voice, equal parts Cocteau operatics and jazz-club coquette, in an expression of a want beyond words. The mood shifting "Osvobodi Menia" sees the solemn, snaking sound of a sampled duduk drift into an optimism of airy pads and escapist mantra, suspended in reverb until the end of time. "Ya Tebia Zhdala" began life as a break-led experiment, gradually evolving into a romantic and naive sketch rich with splashes of piano and dynamic chorus pads. Naturalist hymn "O Dereve" weaves a dark and intimate tale from the point of view of a veteran tree as its buzzsaw guitar loops blossom into multilayered vocals full of emotion.

Awash with sonar sweeps, sumptuous pads and rolling subs, the titular "Imena Rek" channels post-rave bliss into the hypnagogic anthem the contemporary IDM-ographic have been searching for. Infectious hooks and spaced out pads ride the breakbeat rhythm for a dreamy experimental pop banger from another planet. The sombre sway of "Rany", filtered through the fog of a broken cassette recorder, trance djembe and unpredictable bass tones rivals the finest Motion Ward or In:dex releases for crepuscular charm, while "Smeshno" sees serrated drones sink into a slinking rhythm, playing counterpoint to the tender chords and yearning vocals.

"Iskra" closes out the chiasmus with a return to the organic experience of the opener, the flute and acoustic guitar augmented with nuanced hand percussion and a music box refrain. Listening to this album is like a midnight walk through an ancient forest - an experience which both scares and tempts you at the same time. From touching damp moss to feeling the thick fog with your body and watching mushrooms glow in the dark, 'Imena Rek' guides you through the terrain.

Flawlessly arranged and executed, this LP alludes to a long lineage of innovative downbeat, feels absolutely essential in the present and pushes the trip hop revivalists towards a fascinating future - Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova have created a timeless piece of music,
but what else do you expect from the Bin?

Raw Energy by JD Twitch showing Petersen's Trance (Not Trance) the way to the dancefloor.
Synths and sitars for eternal bliss on the flipside. Another pin glowing!

Back in 2017, Basso delved into his micro-press cassette collection to treat us to the first retrospective of kosmische wizard Trance. Spanning both the bucolic and galactic, ‚Tapes' (GBR010) suspended time and space, enveloping us in the nebulous beauty of Jürgen Petersen's misty ambience.

Among the appreciative audience for this mind expanding release was one JD Twitch aka Keith McIvor, one half of the mighty Optimo. Keith's vision of remixing Jurgen's ‚Purification' for the club was embraced by both the artist and the label guy with glowing eyes. Charting a course through progressive house, ambient techno and the weirder bits of the solar system, McIvor combines the celestial synthesis of the original with some tough and tracky drum programming, turning the intensity up to 11 in pursuit of early morning ascension. A sensitive arrangement allows space for Peterson's waveforms to work their magic, while laser fire and additional fx abuse unlock evolutionary abilities buried deep in your unconscious mind.
The previously unreleased, largely unheard ‚Contemplation' was originally intended to feature on the ‚Tapes' compilation, but fell off the edge of that flat Earth thanks to its maximal runtime. Too good to remain a secret, this crepuscular creation enjoys the entirety of the B-side, drifting through the eons via meditative electronics, delicate sitar and a touch of tapey flutter.
Embrace the almost 40 year old tape's flaws and imperfections that could not be restorated and dive into the immersive and unparalleled.
This is music for higher beings.

The Person is back on the dancefloor and she brought the delicious Australian version of a good old Italian recipe - ITALOZ DISCO. Mouthwatering rhythms spiced with everyday hustle, cosmic boogie and the extra dose of synthesizer! Changing the Meatballs for Oddballs to worship the Magic $ properly. Sull' alto lato (aka on the B-Side) we're changing the Oddballs for the Mothballs as the one and only Hysteric warms up the magic ragout in his unique steam-powered kitchen. Now go to work!

You still need to be convinced? Take these great lines by Patrick:
"Magic $" beams into the discotheque direct from deep space; a shimmering body of squelching bass, nebulous pads and snapping percussion which hosts Minna's bewitching vocals. The arch delivery and vintage sequences flirt with kitsch, but that playful genius particular to The Person pushes this into wonderfully wonkier territories. Basslines climb, keys collapse and the whole thing chugs and bubbles through a flawless arrangement. We thought they didn't make them like this anymore, but we were wrong. Stepping in on remix duty, renowned (Moth)baller Hysteric turns out a treatment that's worth a million bucks, boosting the bottom end with an acidic sequence, supercharging the percussion and punching in some strange sampler fun to guarantee utter club chaos.
Every superhero needs a theme song, and "The Person" sees Minna step away from the dancefloor to deliver a synthetic ballad for lucid dreamers everywhere. Jamming on top of a malfunctioning Jomox, Minna channels chimes, piano and a gentle chug into the classiest chord progression this side of Mike Francis. Closing cut "Go To Work" gives us neon lights and nighthawks as The Person indulges in a little Antipodean electro, proving once and for all that Australians Do It Better.

Growing Bin say sayonara to summer with these bittersweet Balearic gems from Japan’s Nuback. Emotional pop and daydream dub to make you feel younger than yesterday. While the Discogs hipsters hastily hunt down the last, lost street soul OGs, Growing Bin choose instead to indulge in a little Nuback swing. Enlisting the talents of Tokyo’s Dai Nakamura, Hamburg’s home for sensitive sounds provide a much needed vinyl release for the misty-eyed ‘When The Party Is Over’ and ‘Heartbeat Summer’. Largely operating through his own Too Young Records, Nuback trades in textured soul, sympathetic synthesis and forlorn funk - a master at making you move while breaking your heart. Back in 2013, he waved ‘Goodbye To Summer, Again’, giving a digital release to these two tracks, which lurked a little low for the radar until Dai and Basso met somewhere beyond the algorithm, soon bringing this release to bloom. Opening with a fanfare of featherlight pads and full bodied bass, ‘When The Party Is Over’ is pure sonic seduction, holding both Balearic boogie and City Pop in a tender embrace. Delicate guitar and sparkling sequences tug the heartstrings with nostalgic beauty, and Dai’s smooth vocals are made to make you swoon. Emotional pop at its finest folks. On the B-side, ‘Heartbeat Summer’ drops the tempo and soaks up the sun, losing its cares in a haze of loved up dub. As soulful keys sink into spring reverb and steam kettle synths ride a rolling bassline, this downbeat delight lays back in the long grass, making shapes from the clouds and sipping a cool koshu. For summer lovers everywhere; A facemask ruins a first kiss, so start your romance right with Nuback.

REPRESS

Acid bass, slow funk and cosmic energy make for a mind expanding trip in the Liquid Canoe.
Load up on edibles, make it a macro-dose and let the music lead the way.

Whether you’re hard at work on a Hamburg allotment, basking in the heat of a Balinese beach or enjoying the cool waters of the Salish Sea, remember that the same sky stretches over all of us.
And if you forget your finger for a minute and soak in the heavenly beauty instead, you might just catch the cosmic vibrations of Liquid Canoe, the latest members of the Growing Bin family.

A loose ensemble, Liquid Canoe is the brainchild of Wolfgang Matthes, a lost Angelino who’s swapped the rush and push of a mega city for the space of the Pacific Northwest - and listening to this eight track offering, you’ll realise that space is the place. Armed with an array of vintage synths and programmed rhythms, Wolfgang sketched out a slew of inter dimensional transmissions, inspired by the commune electronics and space rock of 70s Germany and inhabited by the spirit of the boogie. Inviting friends to drop by and lend their own instrumental skill, Wolfgang quickly turned Liquid Canoe into a true collaboration. Finalised in a converted stable on Galiano Island, the LP is a perfect marriage of the electronic and organic, shimmering arps and spheric synth bass intertwined with American primitive guitar, nuanced hand percussion and glassy chimes. As this mind expanding collection stretches out towards infinity, you’ll hear Floyd-ian funk, cosmic dub, tangerine daydreams and micro-dosed ambience, all imbued with the memories of New York lofts, Bay Area warehouses, skyscraping pines or the world wide web of fungi. Liquid Canoe taking you on an oarsome trip.

Fresh and zesty with subtle tropical flavours, this is a delightfully listenable debut from Matthieu Beck on Growing Bin. Inspired by the lilting rhythms, jazzy instrumentation and slow listening gems found on his Love In The Afternoon radio show, the Frenchman has crafted a gorgeous collection of laid back sophisti-pop, perfect for long summer days or seasonally affected escapism.
Any suggestion of sorrow in the album title is actually a mislead - this may be a solo LP, but Matthieu's surrounded himself with the musical friends he's made over the years, serving as composer and bandleader to a willing troop of collaborators. Longtime friend and former Metronomy bassist Gabriel Stebbing, Source Ensemble drummer Emmanuel Mario, and of course Laetitia Sadier herself, stepped in to lend their services and bring Matthieu's music to life, before Jérôme Caron (Blackjoy) expertly mixed it all down.
Though the tracklist may read like a travelogue, these nine tracks all began at home with Matthieu sat behind a Fender Rhodes with a drum machine by his side. Soon live bass, saxophone and flute strolled into his unhurried arrangements, retaining the simplicity of his demos while expanding the emotion. Weighty synth drones and bubbling bass balance the airy elements of tracks like "California" or the dream-pop romance of "Rooftop Rome", while the mellow "Malika" and joyful "Retour De Plage" showcase the Frenchman's relationship with jazz. Elsewhere there's hints of digi-dub ("Island" and "Suede"), coastal boogie ("Tokyo Montana"), stripped back city pop ("California") and downtown nostalgia ("Dora"), before Beck arrives at the poetic, progressive but peaceful finale "Piano Fin", which recalls Air at their prettiest, without stepping outside Matthieu's well defined sound.

Nepumuk / Knowsum glides onto the Growing Bin under his given name, living his best life in this lush loungecore fantasy. Eyebrow raised and hips unlocked, Nelson strolls through affluent funk, sun-blushed boogie and slacker soul to deliver a playful pop masterpiece. A Revered MC and renowned beat maker, his syrup-smooth vocals are just the cocktail cherry on top.

Tribal electronics, dubby downbeat, sedated house and disoriented breaks coming from Molto Brutto's Andreas Kunzmann. Following on from his essential reissue of II aka Molto Brutto's feverish and freaky second LP, Basso fires up the Growing Bin lathe for a further foray into AK's eccentric catalogue. Recorded between 1998-2005 and unreleased until now, these genre-fluid tracks retain the unorthodox charm central to the Austrian's art. Sometimes dancing is just falling to music, and Andreas lives the life unbalanced.

Equal parts Sheffield bleep, fractal IDM and interstellar ambience, Hyper Nu Age Tekno sees Taro Nohara (aka Yakenohara) plotting a star map on a faded rave flyer. Let the billionaires blast into orbit while you explore your inner space with Growing Bin.

From the LP's earliest moments, the whomping subs and crystalline chimes of "Space Debris", it's clear that we're a long way from Hamburg. Taro pilots this craft on a deep space exploration way beyond the run out groove, to a place where heartening chords herald a twin sunrise and any broadcasts are lost in translation. The polyrhythmic pulse of "Ill Ell" follows, its concentric chimes and rapid fire kicks summoning the teknoguild to a watery altar in the engineering department. Sticking with interstellar mysticism but taking a turn for the transcendent, "Baker Baker Paradox" spins Reich-ian repetition into a graphene gossamer embellished with chrome, crystal and shoegaze shimmer.
The B-side begins on the observation deck, bathing in the beauty of "Celestial Harmonia"'s sci-fi exotica, before the entheogenic "Use Your Head" prompts a delirious dash to the holodeck. Laying serene pads over a techy 4/4, Taro turns out the most danceable and dreamy track on the LP. As ambient chords ring out into the aether and rhythmic pulses shift out of phase, "Airplane Without People" is the loading screen for your virtual fantasy, soon rendered through the woody percussion and spheric bass of "Music For Psychic Liberation". Leave your body behind as you pick mushrooms in a CGI forest.

Repress

Growing Bin burst into 2018 with a bang, crash and symbol splash, uniting a premier pair of per-cussion obsessives for a supernatural mission into the heart of the rhythm.
Dressed in the pitch black of Du¨sseldorf stands Wolf Mu¨ller, master of the tropical drums and seven time Salon Des Amateur breakdance champion. Repping Cologne and Berlin is Niklas Wandt, Germany's funkiest drummer and a mixed musical artist as adept in experimental jazz as demen- ted Euro dance. Standing toe to toe in a no holds barred, no drum unstruck groove contest, these two titans will make you swing your pants like a Crash Bandicoot victory dance...so stretch out and step in to ‚Instrumentalmusik von der Mitte der World'.

Taking to their task with the joyful abandon of two big kids getting creative with the Kindergar- ten music tray, Mu¨ller & Wandt marry dripping electronics, Froesean pads and rubber-limbed basslines with tribal polyrhythms, C2 claps and Indonesian shakers - and that's only on the A1. Comprising of three trance-inducing epics, a handful of medium-sized movers and a couple of freeform interludes, this dynamic double pack could almost pass as a lost Library masterpiece, but our mind guides go Furthur, fusing esoteric funk and free-jazz freak-out a truly transportive experience. Prepare to enter a world of techno totems and neon skulls, shades of Yello and excel- lent birds. Within these grooves lies a transdimensional pathway between the Temple of Doom, the Twilight Zone and De Palma's Paradise, brought to life in a shamanic rite.

Forget the healing frequencies of Growing Bin's ambient outings, this time we're dancing for mental health.

(words by Patrick Ryder)

repressed !

Free your mind and float away, you’re now entering the mode of the Growing Bin. Hamburg’s centre for audio enlightenment is back with another sublime sensory experience, this time from the land of the rising sun. Keen to get another stamp on his passport, Basso reached out to Japanese duo Singu, two open minded cats who just love to jam. Marrying Kiyo’s free drumming with Keta Ra’s melodic mastery of keyboard and guitar, the two-piece fuse free jazz, post-rock, kosmische and ambient into immersive and esoteric improvisations. Free from any compositional concerns, the Hiroshima outfit trade in energy, emotion and expression. The frenetic percussion and ephemeral melodies of opener ‘Aurora Gate’ instantly transport you to the breathless churn of a Tokyo crossroads, where thousands of people rush by but you stand still in the eye of the storm. Though they may be explosive, the drums sit back in the mix, offering a soft intensity behind the shimmering wall of melody. A nimble and nuanced affair, ‘Bop’ brings rapid fire rhythm, slick syncopation and hypnotic piano refrains. Cool bass rolls along like KDJ’s ‘Rectify’, as Singu update the acid jazz template like Toshio Matsuura covering Carl Craig. Singu journey from far out to Furthur on Aside closer ‘Nagebu’, strapping in for psychedelic synth wig out which is heavy on the resonance and free on the filter. Blooming out of the darkness on the B1, Basso favourite ‘Fazaria’ soothes and moves you with its twinkling keys, nebulous wave forms and delicate guitar, leaving you wide eyed in wonder as the drum fills burst like fireworks across a star-filled sky. ‘828’ sweeps into abstraction as Kiyo and Keta Ra combine snapping glitches and aquatic electronics with fractal guitar tones and woozy bass, pushing through a portal to see what’s beyond. An a-grade wal

repress

An underwater adventure by young Parisian Shelter. Where previous releases have seen the synth-obsessed Frenchman take his inspiration from Caribbean rhythms or Balearic attitudes, this marine missive sees Shelter turn to the lavish world of the library,creating his an alternate score to Jean Faurez' 1960 documentary short.

More submersible than snorkel, our journey begins in the very dark of the deep, mystical harp trills echoing through the inky blackness, picking up the bioluminescent shimmer of an Abraliopsis Squid. Gradually we make our way into the light, cruising past shoals of silver scales and underwater forests. Immersion' offers a placid, percolating rhythm and billowing pads, providing sonic symmetry for the dancing leaves, while the spheric soundscape of 'La Vie A L'Ombre' bubbles away like an underwater volcano. The optimistic ambience of 'Plenitude Azotee', brimming with delicate melody and glistening sequences, perfectly captures the wide-eyed wonder of a reef dive, before drifting into the serenity of 'Parade', an aquatic acquaintance of A.R.T. Wilson's 'Overworld'. A brief foray into shark fin funk sees out the A-side, before we're back amid the beauty of the ocean floor, 'Variation Abyssale II' echoing the album opener but with even more poetry. The exotic and otherworldly sine waves of 'Dans La Jungle De Varech' simultaneously sound like a rainforest canopy, alien landscape and coral microcosm, expanding our horizons nicely ahead of the adrenaline rush of 'Hors D'Haleine'. Shelter then sets us at ease with the
tidal tonality and subtle shuffle of 'Fumeurs Noirs', a sublime synthetic suite,
then leaves us to marvel at the soft focus splendour of 'Synthii Outro'.

Keeping his carbon footprint at a minimum, Santilli sails from Sydney to Hamburg via ten textured vignettes delicately drawn with guitar, bass and organic percussion. Relaxing, reflective and endlessly
beautiful, ‘Tidal’ explores elemental inspiration through a humanistic gaze.
Whether you know Max Santilli through Ken Oath duo Angophora, previous releases ‘Surface’ and ‘In Circles’, or this is your first time making his acquaintance, you’ll agree he’s right at home on the
Growing Bin. The multi-instrumentalist crafts exquisite acoustic music in tune with the finer moments of Windham Hill and ECM; a perfect fusion of talent, balance and the emotion shared by each release on the Hamburg label.

As befits its inspiration ‘Tidal’ is an organic affair, related through bright acoustic guitar, hazy chimes and hand played percussion. Where the Australian draws you in with hypnotic repetition, the subtlety, warmth and tonal variation serve as a welcome reminder we’re living off grid. Though expert fretwork
often takes centre stage, especially on the delicate B1 ‘Warm You Give’, it’s the blend of kalimba, woodblock, hand drums and shaker which truly transport the listener through open waters; a rhythmic
breeze carrying us through the maritime drones and bowed squall. At times the salt air is spiced with cardamom and cloves (‘Sea’) or lemongrass and galangal (‘Valleys’), as we skirt the Indian Ocean or
the Java Sea. ‘Lapse’ provides subtle hints of fourth world jazz as mallets take the lead, leaving the guitar to provide its own shimmering texture.

Clear your mind, clear your schedule and make some time for ‘Tidal’, an opportunity to breathe in time with the planet

After a year of enforced isolation, we've all become experts at introspection. After all if the outlook is grim, why not look inwards instead? Just don't be surprised when all that naval gazing gives you a bellyache. Luckily, Cass. is back on the Growing Bin with the beguiling beauty of 'Ambient Music For A Young Girl', a soothing set which demands your full attention.
In the era of deserted dance floors, when the house and techno crowd export uninspired ambient to keep the streams flowing, Cass. offers an alternative approach to slow listening straight from the heart. Niklas came to Basso with a wealth of sensuous sounds to curate for a new LP, and these six expressionistic vignettes sit together like paintings at an exhibition. All born from the same brush but varied in tone, texture, mood and approach, they achieve an immersive effect without ever fading into the background. Sonic synonyms of Rothko, Turrell and Kapoor, each imbued with hidden depth, each utterly compelling, each conveying a profound calm.

Working his mellow magic on the Growing Bin, Sorcerer entertains your inner child with eight tracks of instrumental west coast pop suitable for dancing, dreaming and surfing a wave or two.
While Basso sat in a Teutonic treehouse, feeding his head with the sounds of the woodland, Dan Judd danced on the sands of San Francisco's Baker Beach. Stretching between them, like the world's longest tin can radio, was the Dream Chimney. This legendary forum, run by Ryan Bishop, better known as The Beat Broker, helped to launch a thousand labels, and the Growing Bin is one of them - all hail the Chim!
Here, Dan, naturally mystic in his Sorcerer guise, satisfies all our sensory needs with a Kinder Surprise of sweet melodies, coastal cool and playful rhythms inspired by his children's earliest responses to music. Following his feelings and avoiding overthinking, he creates open, enticing and accessible cuts; each living and breathing that mellow magic you only get on the West Coast.
'Kids World' kicks into gear with the spheric bass of '2000 Studio', a bouncy embodiment of that spacious San Francisco sound. There's a nod to nu disco but the dreamy dubiness takes the track much deeper, especially as those surf guitars start to detune in the summer heat. The breezy fretwork continues on 'Disco Drums', topping a wriggling groove tailor made for the terrace. Shades of rave refract through a healing crystal at the midpoint, encouraging al fresco dancing from sunrise to sunset. The A3 sees Sorcerer get into the groove of 'Bahia Brothers', rolling that rubberised B-line out of his own Paradise Garage before putting the top down for the carefree Balearic pop of 'Spray Paint.'
The B-side glides into being via the night dubbing grooves of 'Fire Feel', a reverb laden journey though glassy tones, off beat perx and gorgeous chord progressions. Next up, the new wave inspired 'Crunchy' translates Sheffield's daring synth pop into a wide eyed blast of psychedelic house, boosting our mana ahead of the loose limbed and light footed 'First Wave'. Ringing guitars reference Ghanaian highlife, shimmering in the heat haze as Dan funks up the drum kit ready for the broken beat and blissed out energy of sundowning set closer 'Escape Route'.

If Shelter swam through the serene side of the Library experience on GBR016, CV Vision blasts off in the opposite direction, riding an explosion of funk breaks and frazzled synths into the event horizon on his retro-futurist opus ‘Insolita’.

As contemporary life accelerates way past peak-weird, CV Vision leans into uncertainty and leaves Earth in the rear-view. Strung out on Simulacron-3, World On A Wire and Omaggio Ad Einstein, the Berlin-based musician imagines his own Brave New World, an alternate eXistenZ in a secret simulation.

Using the space age obsession of the Italian libraries as a launch pad, Dennis Schulze slathers a sonic storyboard with ferocious percussion, psychedelic fuzz and the pastoral electronics of Germany’s Kosmische movement. But this is less Can, more uncanny - and Schulze perfectly renders the cognitive estrangement of a simulated reality through his adventurous production. The monolithic live drums, recorded in a Neukölln garage on a battered Soviet kit are smeared with tape hiss, compressed to death and fired through LFOs, re-materialising on record in impossible scale. Time slips out of joint under the wow and flutter of the reel to reel, drum computers add digital interference to organic rhythms and the unfaltering slew of the 303 lends the hallucinatory thrill of the club sound system to an already psychedelic affair.

As Schulze’s imagination runs free, we’re taken through epic space battles and narrow escapes, moments of reflection and affection and a final resolution, all expressed through a dexterous control of movement and mood. For every explosion of break-fuelled adrenaline, there’s a cruise into cryo-chamber music and holodeck exotica. For each neck-snapping blast of acid funk, there’s a zero gravity lullaby waiting just around the corner.

So put isolation on ice and surrender to the strange, this is a trip you don’t want to end.

Growing Bin switches back into reissue mode with an off-kilter obscurity from Austrian eccentrics Molto Brutto. Equal parts amateur funk, indie jangle, art rock and idiot pop, "2" is a real weird bastard with a whole lot of charm. As the Bin continues to grow in all directions, there's plenty of space for new sounds to take root. Alongside patches of Ambient, Balearic, Kosmische and Jazz, Hamburg's audio allotment now stretches to accommodate the strange waves of Molto Brutto.

Basso dug their first LP a decade back in Stuttgart's Second Hand Records, embracing their abrasive style of sandpaper sonics and experimental urges. Interest piqued, he made the journey through their DIY catalogue, capturing excellent collaborations under the Ganslinger alias before bumping into the second of their two LPs. Originally released on their Golfdish imprint in 1988, "2" walks into the pub with an air of accessibility, but quickly unravels into glorious chaos - pissing in the corner and passing out on the bar. Pop structures are suggested then subverted.
Pints of Paisley slosh out of a broken Glass, tape loops spool onto shabby Material, and indie janglers are just a couple of stamps short of a Postcard.

Turning you tipsy, this loveable rogue starts to tell you his life story, but you're going to have to fill in some blanks. They miss 'Blackie', but who is he - a dog? What happened on the 'Deadly Vacation'? Is that song really about a 'Goldfish', or did they find out the name of America's horse? Words repeat until they lose all meaning, awkward poetry masks a lost laureate and a drunken Wurlitzer sends the room into a spin.

The pubs are shut, so get happy drunk with Molto Brutto.
Patrick Ryder

Digging deep through old and new, Basso captures arcane woodland fusion, serene electronic suites and wide eyed Balearic bliss on this first Growing Bin compilation.

This collection celebrates those precious records which land in your life on their own terms. Even the most advanced digger will admit that chance is the secret ingredient in any successful haul. Sure, it helps if you know where to look, but if you arrive a day early at that secluded second hand shop, or an hour late at the convention, you might miss out on a rare sight of sound. But there are still ways to skew the odds in your favour. Even in the most crowded urban environment, a solitary tree soon becomes a nest, and Basso's fostered an abundant garden in his Hamburg hometown. A decade on and the Growing Bin is a safe haven for those exquisite sounds crowded out of the mainstream, the rare birds with the most striking song.

'Coffee' comes right after cocoa in the bin's headquarter, though start your morning with One Tongue and be prepared for a different kind of day. A witch's brew spiced with a hint of Durian and the early bird, this 1990 composition could be the blueprint for the Teutonic trance dancers beloved by the Salon set. A more meditative magic flows through the A2, a smooth blend of fusion guitar, softly syncopated drums and counterpoint keys from one time art-rockers Inandout. This Growing Bin favourite from their '93-95' LP sounds right at home beside the majestic melodies and spheric bass of Matthias Raue's 'Brücke am schwarzen Fluss 2'. Taken from the soundtrack to a TV drama filmed in Mali, this digital homage to African rhythm shimmies in step with New Age dancers from Mkwaju Ensemble and Louis Crelier. The A-side ends with the unbridled optimism of Kosmische maverick Hardy Kukuk. The synthesist hit the studio with friends Karsten Raecke and Andreas Schneider in 86, coalescing crystalline electronics and gentle guitar into tender chord progressions suited for sun bathing beside the Sea of Tranquility.

The second side slinks into motion with the deep beauty and sincere spoken word of Frank Suchland's 'Schnee', a subtle body in a cocoon of reverb which takes Sade's 'I Never Thought I'd See The Day' to another level of placidness. Melancholic Germans Die Fische met in Cairo for the first time, and 'Conversation Of Everyday Lovers' could be the theme for that great city. Underpinned by primal percussion and a restrained groove, the track twists and turns between a trio of ineffable motifs, eternal combinations to the catacombs of Abusir. From there we go sublime, soaring skywards with a ten minute triumph from Hugh Mane. Balancing concentric sequences and space age synth riffs atop an irresistible breakbeat and bubbling bassline, the British producer finds a sensuous sweet-spot between fellow Growing Bin affiliates Krakatau and Singu.

Lucky are we who hear the Bin's sounds.
Patrick Ryder

After the heaviest of years, it should be time to take a little weight off with the playful sounds of The Person. Mapping its own Bermuda Triangle between dub-pop, sugary synthwave and Balearic boogie, ‘Tide Life’ transports Compass Point to Soggy Bottom, providing maximum fun, sun and bitmap escapism.

The eagle-eared may recognise The Person from the aspirational Italo-rockers Steaming Jeans, whose chalet-ready romp on Bordello A Parigi scored a Winter Olympic gold back in early 2020. Now left to her own devices, Minna Wight swaps the slopes for a jet ski and takes a Wave Race from Summer Bay to Monkey Island across 11 cuts of vintage oddball pop.

Whether she’s borrowing Brenda’s Beach Balls for the dubby daydream of ‘Snail Cafe’ and ‘The Place’, serving lost library cues to SNES club scenes on ‘Barry R Reef’ and ‘Elastic Shoes’ or spinning high school slow jams into synth soul ballads like ‘Nice Feeling’, Minna disguises serious musicianship behind a naive aesthetic. Disarmed by charm, we’re powerless to resist her tidal pull.
Patrick Ryder

Growing Bin say sayonara to summer with these bittersweet Balearic gems from Japan’s Nuback. Emotional pop and daydream dub to make you feel younger than yesterday. While the Discogs hipsters hastily hunt down the last, lost street soul OGs, Growing Bin choose instead to indulge in a little Nuback swing. Enlisting the talents of Tokyo’s Dai Nakamura, Hamburg’s home for sensitive sounds provide a much needed vinyl release for the misty-eyed ‘When The Party Is Over’ and ‘Heartbeat Summer’. Largely operating through his own Too Young Records, Nuback trades in textured soul, sympathetic synthesis and forlorn funk - a master at making you move while breaking your heart. Back in 2013, he waved ‘Goodbye To Summer, Again’, giving a digital release to these two tracks, which lurked a little low for the radar until Dai and Basso met somewhere beyond the algorithm, soon bringing this release to bloom. Opening with a fanfare of featherlight pads and full bodied bass, ‘When The Party Is Over’ is pure sonic seduction, holding both Balearic boogie and City Pop in a tender embrace. Delicate guitar and sparkling sequences tug the heartstrings with nostalgic beauty, and Dai’s smooth vocals are made to make you swoon. Emotional pop at its finest folks. On the B-side, ‘Heartbeat Summer’ drops the tempo and soaks up the sun, losing its cares in a haze of loved up dub. As soulful keys sink into spring reverb and steam kettle synths ride a rolling bassline, this downbeat delight lays back in the long grass, making shapes from the clouds and sipping a cool koshu. For summer lovers everywhere; A facemask ruins a first kiss, so start your romance right with Nuback.

Triangulating a slinky signal to a square mile off the Swan River, Glowing Pin bring us ‘Pentagon Palette’, a master blast of frequency adjusted house, swamp stomp and chakra charmers from Australian newcomer Jonus Eric.

Though opening brace ‘The Cult’ and ‘Collect’ made first contact back in 2014, a loose connection between Perth and Hamburg hindered progress before ‘Mirrors’, ‘Emulator’ and ‘Waterfall’ walked across the web in 2019 to round out a dope debut release from this house auteur. Specialising in mind altering sound design and melodic flair, Jonus generates a neon swamp on ‘The Cult’, serving up a psychoactive roller caked in radioactive fuzz and insectile fizz. Thick bass swells and circular marimba make for a hypnotic rhythm, while a shapeshifting vocal and moody keyboard riff drag us back towards terra firma. The paradisiac refrain of ‘Collect’ soon sounds out through the jungle with a euphoric haze,

its sub-tickling bass and acid gurgle riding hyperactive drum programming as the track warps in the humidity. Soaked in serotonin and brisk at 137 BPM, ‘Mirrors’ burns off the mist to offer an airy update on the French Touch template. Though frazzled circuitry and dislocated vox serve this one with a twist, the chiming pianos and bouncy beat are still best enjoyed in a Golf GTI in the summertime. Jonus reaches for the lasers via the restless rhythm and rave sirens of ‘Emulator’, a fresh take on the funky house of the late nineties updated with unexpected breaks, squealing feedback and treated vocals usually found on a Four Set banger.

Next it’s off to the chillout room for ‘Waterfalls’, a fourth-world tone poem describing crystal caves, undiscovered wildlife and a holographic waterfall. Ditching the doof, and letting those colours tesselate, Jonus offers a +2 bump to your mana, before the post punk bassline, growling EBM vocal and off key organs of ‘YR Mind’ combine for a confrontational bonus track, only available in digital format.

Mooring the 'Train Of Thought' at Hamburger Hafen, Latvia's R_R_ delivers aquatic ambience, buoyant electronics and tidal rhythms on the Growing Bin. Hold this shell(ac) to your ears and you’ll hear the sea…

As we hasten towards the inevitable Waterworld of the next century, Latvian composer, sound artist and lecturer Reinis Semēvics charts our safe passage to dry land with his debut album 'Train Of Thought'. Inspired by the rhythmic movement of water and how its rippled reflections bend our perception, Reinis sculpts an immersive sound collage - a precise mixture of field recordings and self-made sounds which swell and swirl as we bathe in their beauty.

Bookended by the Baltic's roar at the Bay of Rīga, 'Train Of Thought' drifts from the harbour to the open sea, conveying the restful calm and frenetic power of a body of water throughout. Misty pads and delicate piano conjure lapping waves and blue skies, bubbling sequences ripple up from the deep and cascading melodies fall around hypnotic rhythms, each distinct droplet offering a different feeling and mood. One moment flows into the next, nine rivers pouring into a single ocean of sonic bliss.
The alias R_R_ is a tribute to his grandfather, the composer Ģederts Ramans, whose influence helped set Reinis' sonic journey in motion. We're very happy he's decided to stop off in the Growing Bin, and we're sure you will be too.
Patrick Ryder

It’s a family affair on the second Growing Bin 7”, as Peter & Patrick Jahn enjoy some father and son boogie with a smooth split release. A sunblushed moocher served two ways, this disc is designed for horizontal dancing…
Rooting around the cupboards in his family home outside Nuremberg, Patrick Jahn unearthed a dusty box of cassettes, saved for posterity but eventually forgotten. Somewhere between ‘True Blue’ and ‘Brothers In Arms’ was a faded C60 full of unreleased demos by his father Peter, recorded in the mid to late 80s. Back then Jahn Sr owned a pub club called Schrank (Cupboard to the Anglophones), with an upstairs office he used as a music studio. In amongst naïve synthesiser experiments and carefree noodling was a Balearic boogie bomb, all strolling synth bass, clipped funk guitar and seaside melancholy – like Brenda Ray on a Wim Wenders soundtrack.
Too impressed to keep it a secret, Patrick played the cut to Carsten “Erobique” Meyer, when he was over there jamming, and Hamburg’s premier funk freak suggested this might be of interest to his likeminded hometown freak Basso. Instantly in love, the Growing Bin boss suggested Patrick provide his own version for the flipside, and so it was, reborn with percussive sway, moonlit keys and beefy bass tones for the next generation. Here’s to the Jahn family, father and son but brothers in calms…
Patrick Ryder

Any botanist will extol the virtues of cross-pollination, and musical hybrids are a Growing Bin speciality. For the latest release Parisian outfit Maât splice jazz with Balearic, dub, house and Afro to create a free thinking LP dedicated to world fusion fore-runners Codona.

If Singu found calm amongst the chaos of Tokyo for ’Siku’ (GBR017), then Maât map out a Sunday stroll through the sun dappled streets of the Parisian banlieue on ’Solar Mantra’. Humming reeds converge into a pre-dawn chorus before dewy sequences and drifting syncopation signal sunrise over La Vilette, a perfect place to start ‘The Walk’. Skirting the Périphérique, the Parisian ensemble pick out a street percussionist by Boulevard d’Algérie then detour to Pré-Satint-Gervais to draw a bassline out of the Metro Area, adding an Environ cool to the uptempo ‘Jaki & Bryn’. With icy bells, brooding guitars and melancholic vocals, ‘Feuglace’ transports Miko’s garten to the 20th arrondissement while the polyrhythmic patter and micro-tuned guitars of ‘Solar Mantra’ see out the A-side with a fourth world hymn.

Chakras cleansed and ready for a B-side rebirth, Maât take us dancing through Père Lachaise via organic house bomb ‘Quetzal Pacino’, an emotive exploration of rhythmic mallets, dreamy pads and propulsive bass, which moves like the Innerzone Orchestra re-arranged by Jon Hassell. Rest comes with the soothing pianos and swelling sine waves of the pastoral ‘Clarière’, a hazy homage to the noon sun on a clearing. Circular motifs, limber grooves and dubby bass mean we’re on the move again, slipping into Montreuil with the echo-drenched scat and firm back beats of ‘Mount Beuvray’, before ‘Llomé Dub’ takes us home in time for a cool beer and much needed smoke on the balcony. Acoustic guitar, lilting piano and a gorgeous female vocal ride the punchy bass and clattering drums to perfection, keeping us company until the day fades into a contented haze.

Patrick Ryder

The Growing Bin may have taken a hiatus for AW18, but don‘t be fooled into thinking this is a deciduous operation; after all the most powerful plantlife grows from below. Moving through the mulch, Basso traces the mycellium network from Hamburg‘s forests to the gentle slopes of Hasenheide, reconnecting with James Booth for the officially first Growing Bin release of 2019, or the first ever Glowing Pin Release.

Emerging from the green house with a heroic dose of wavy caps, the Mancunian export unleashes A-side sizzler ‚Space Echo Track‘, a little post-minimal magic for the peak time shamans. Built around the polyrhythmic patter of organic percussion, a touch of UK shuffle and the occasional blast of soundsystem bass, the track rolls and rattles from start to finish, tailor made for mid-set hypnosis. And while neon leadlines dance with disorienting sampler vox and papaya whistles summon the ethno-flute melodies, Booth brings us to a new level of future primitive consciousness, unlocking the Stargate once and for all. Onto the B-side and we‘re hurtling through galaxies, submerged in the entheogenic frequencies of‚ Locus of Control‘. Shimmering swathes of angelic synth vox and dreamlike pads drift freely, forming a
perfect counterbalance to the warp factor thrust and rasping resonance of the wormhole sequences. Beatless in space, ‚Locus‘ balances ambient techno and acid gurgle, cleansing your synapses like a Sven Vath warm down circa ‚94. This is music for the microdosers...

When the Growing Bin first bloomed from blog and record store to label it was originally intended to be a reissue imprint. If you've kept your ear to the ground and head in the Bin, you'll know that isn't exactly how it went down. But for this release we are going back to the scheme a young Basso dreamed up in his adolescent years: bring back the rare, unknown and unfindable.

You could be forgiven for thinking Basso's been hitting the plant food of late. Last time out we took a trip with Trance, and now our esoteric expert nods his head, rolls his shoulders and drops a h-h-h-house record on our unexpecting asses. That's right folks, roll up the rug, push the sofa back and enjoy some ‚Personal Growth' from James Booth.
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Operating a million miles away from the kick and hiss of the trendy lo-fi folks, the Berlin based producer favours subtle rhythms, delicate textures and tender melodies - turning out a string of sophisticated dance floor winners for 100% Silk, Church and No Bad Days. Now he brings his organic house stylings to the Growing Bin with a fresh five-tracker packed with all the warmth of a Tempelhof picnic on a balmy July afternoon.

Emerging from the watery depths of the Drexciyan ocean, opener ‚Mood' strides calmly through the morning dew, stretching those loose limbs and seeking out Hardcastle's rainforest. Drifting freely
through immersive, aquatic pads and soft focus melodies, the track takes in a little R&R before snapping electro percussion, cascading synthlines and a rolling rhythm up the intensity. The deepness continues on the A2 as ‚Dream Precipitation' offers a medicated vision of Debussy doing P-Bar while Lynch rolls the cameras. Syncopated hi-hats, jazzy keys and star-gazing sine waves wrap themselves around your cerebellum, expanding your mind as a steady kick moves your body into the pleasure zone. Booth takes a Derren Brown tip on the flip, imbuing ‚You' with the kind of mesmeric rhythm that can make the staunchest wallflower pull a Pink Panther on a packed dance floor. The exotic tumble of woody percussion and hissing castanets keep up a fascinating rhythm, driving the titular mantra and snaking synth melody through bursts of slapped bass and subtle 4/4. ‚Dhoop Stick' stays on board with the boogie hypnotism, weaving its way through celestial melodies, squelching bass and toasty Rhodes before ‚The Chorus' brings down the curtain with wailing FM vox, military snares and the dreamy synth pop charm of a lost Sheffield classic. Warm, woody and entirely organic, this is the birth of Green House...you heard it here first!
(words by Patrick Ryder)

Minimal multi-instrumentalist weirdo zone brilliance on another obscure uncovering from the excellent Growing Bin...big tip!
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"If you've kept a keen ear to the underground, you may have noticed a trance revival creeping into the dance floors and darkrooms of late, a post ironic return to the 64 bar breakdowns and peak time key changes of your serotonin drenched youth.....

So what's this then Has Growing Bin gone from groundbreaker to copycat Dig a little deeper folks, for the Trance is question is Jürgen Petersen, a forgotten cosmic kingpin in tune with true electronic excellence. When Danielle Baldelli wanted to show off his eclectic tastes, which record did he reach for Petersen's 1980 LP, 'Here And Now' of course. And when John Schaefer put together his essential exploration of New Sounds, who did he describe as Germany's answer to Eno Trance, damn right! After blessing the world with a trio of essential electronic LPs between 1979 and 1983, Petersen moved out of the limelight and lived off the grid, collecting his mind expanding music on a series of self-recorded, self-released cassettes, known only to the inner circle of elite European diggers. The sounds found within were unusual, experimental and ecstatic.

Fusing the organic tones of piano, 12 string guitar and sitar with soothing sine waves and hypnotic synthesis, Petersen harnessed the healing frequencies out there in the cosmos and transfixed the
listener with pure otherworldly beauty - ambient music for a new age... Unravelling these rare cassettes for music lovers everywhere, Growing Bin treats us to 'Tapes', a five track vision quest for the
horizontal travellers and fourth world nomads. Sven can keep his cocoon, we're off in search of the butterflies..."

REPRESSED !!
Growing Bin Records is incredibly happy to bring you the vinyl edition of Moon B's Lifeworld - previously released on tape by the Vancouver based cassette label 1080p.
Chopped, grainy subcontinental film aural motifs paired with other slankness on Moon B's latest. After a brief
pause since his PPU releases, Wes Gray returns with a remapped take on his distinctly dusty and groovy samplefocused
synth funk.Gray has worked towards his particular sweet spot of retrofuturism, and Lifeworld's segues between antiquity
and contemporary g-funk benefit from extremely rich, filmic moods and a general knack for basking in warmth and sincerity rather than obscurity.