Buscar:high plains

High Plains is the duo of Scott Morgan and Mark Bridges.

Morgan, based in the Canadian Pacific Northwest, is predominantly known for his drifting, textured soundscapes released under the pseudonym LOSCIL.

Bridges is an accomplished, classically-trained cellist residing in Madison, Wisconsin.

The two met in Banff, Alberta while they were simultaneously there on residencies at the Banff Centre for the Arts in 2014. They first collaborated when Bridges contributed cello parts to Morgan's generative music app ADRIFT, recorded in Seattle in 2015.

In early 2016, the duo embarked on a collaborative set of compositions in the oxygen thin air of Wyoming, spending two weeks holed up in a refurbished school house in the town of Saratoga, where this album was recorded.

Inspired by Schubert's Die Winterreiseand the rolling landscapes of
their surroundings, the collaboration culminated in a collection of recordings that evoke a shadowy, introspective and dizzying winter journey.

Cinderland takes cues from classical, electronic and cinematic
musical traditions but is mostly a product of the rugged, mythic landscape; vast and sprawling with a wild, uncertain edge.

The recording was made with a portable studio and all sounds were sourced on site, most notably from Bridges' cello, the resident Steinway D piano, and field recordings collected from the local soundscape.

The results are a site specific, wide scope view of thehigh valley terrain the duo worked in, a mix of analog and digital, neoclassical and modern electronic sounds, a complemental series of tracks to become absorbed in, a truly deep listening experience.

The cover art forCinderland was created by London-based artist, Peter Liversidge.

after more than 2years now the follow up to space bird with ultra long versions !!!!

Shovel Knight began as a modest, yet highly promising Kickstarter project in March 2013. Billed as 'a groundbreaking love letter to 8 bits!' by Indie developer Yacht Club Games, this 2D side-scrolling platform game released in June 2014 to universal praise and accolades. Fans and industry professionals praised Shovel Knight for its charming retro-2D visuals, humorous story, fun characters and strong gameplay design, which all came together to offer a game that is nostalgic yet very modern. The efforts of Yacht Club Games paid off when Shovel Knight was won the prestigious 'Best Independent Game' award at The Game Awards 2014. The game's chiptune soundtrack, composed by Jake Kaufman and Manami Matsumae, is integral to the game's modern-retro identity and has been similarly praised for its outstanding arrangements, memorable melodies and strong technical composition. This definitive soundtrack contains all music from the original Shovel Knight game released in June 2014, with a vinyl tracklist crafted by Jake Kaufman himself. The package cover and inner-gatefold have been designed exclusively for the soundtrack by Hitoshi Ariga; an interview with co-composer Manami Matsumae; and character artwork from the game.

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

"After being praised as one of the best releases of 2025 by multiple platforms, the highly praised debut album from Obeka lands on vinyl via YUKU.

The rhythmic dynamics and emotive attitudes of A World No More captures the density of soundsystem culture in Obeka's ancestral roots. YUKU presents the Bermudians debut album capturing a Neo-Colonial dystopia, protest and Afro-Futurism hyperextended through decaying sonic structures of a dark past and its grievances which very much exist today.

Growing into adulthood within the walls of British and European Colonial systems meant the disconnection and lostness in a new country hid me from the world at a young age. Unlike London's vast and culturally engaging migrant communities, the industrial milling town of Stockport introduced a coldness towards people from other countries I experienced in my first year after relocating from Bermuda. I couldn't understand why. Whether cold words thrown towards me or actions upon other people who look like me, it has shown to be a dooming societal virus with no cure. The most comfort was found through what was familiar - drums and rhythmic spirituality of my homeland. It was a safe-haven, a place to empty the anger and confusion. It's been 15 years since relocating and as my sound evolved, it seems classism, racism, oppression and civil control of ethnic peoples has become worse - even now more legalised and normalised. Ogun (a powerful Yoruba deity associated with anger, justice and war) acts as the opening sequence of the record and its symbolism. Using distorted bass frequencies and dissected Regga-Dub immersed in live-sampled ghostly voices of the lost ones. This sonic exercising is also applied in Drillaman - a stampede of industrial framework and metallic instruments wielded over moody Dancehall MC'ing, magnifying two parallel worlds in cocooned evolution. The resurrection of Transatlantic African cultures and identity have never been silenced, rather carried elsewhere through trade routes of enslavement, which was pivotal when composing and completing the album upon returning home to the Caribbean for the first time ever. After reconnecting with my heritage my blurred vision of what's wrong in the world became so clear. Guidance in empty plains seek truth throughout the pain - A statement of finding oneself expressed on the poetic closing track A World No More.

On Fawohodie (A West African Adinkra symbol that represents independence, freedom, and emancipation stamped on the album cover) the motive and atmosphere begins to change. Afro-Caribbean idealism which refers to the philosophical concept that emphasizes the interconnectedness of individuals and the importance of community, often contrasting with Western individualism, begins to take shape in a new universe. We can co-exist. The track framework uses machine-led software forming frequencies we have no control over, then manipulated through decomposing soundscapes, scattered hand-drums and human-made weapons of control - exposing the hidden disparity that's been carried over generations whilst balancing hopeful and musical foundations towards equality and peace. On Pressure and Kuduro! the writing direction attempts to wake people up. Not settling for a composed approach like in past projects, quite the opposite. A call for native sonic awareness, dismantled vocals of protests, eroded percussion using chains, gears and motorised harmonies sculpted in challenging abstract behaviors far outside my comfort zone. A direct abrasiveness and weight I want people to feel, whilst finding hope and solace through enchanting choirs and hypnotic basslines in complete synchrony.

"Purity in sound manifests when you least expect it. The smallest memory or feeling grows from a seed into a sonic language that you, and only you can interpret and release back into the world." "

Calling all fans of cult soundtracks and genre-bending scores! Four Flies is thrilled to present a limited edition gatefold beauty containing the premiere vinyl release of the complete score to Matalo!, one of the most captivatingly unique Spaghetti soundtracks ever.

Matalo! is a 1970 'western crépusculaire' by Milanese director Cesare Canevari, known for his visually striking genre films, starring Swedish enfant terrible Lou Castel and Italian theatre actor Corrado Pani. Canevari adopts an experimental, atmospheric approach, relying heavily on out-of-focus effects and framing his shots unconventionally. This gives a dark and atmospheric turn to thewestern genre, with the typical dusty plains transformed into a windswept ghost town, while action sequences replace dialogues almost entirely, leaving actors with very little to say – and, therefore, putting the music center stage.

Composer Mario Migliardi – who was also a conductor, pianist, and Hammond organist – throws out the rulebook for Italian Westerns. Prepare for a wild ride of psych-rock textures, swirling electronic filters, haunting reverbs, and concrete sounds – a sonic tapestry that seamlessly blends influences ranging from Jimi Hendrix to Luciano Berio.

Migliardi masterfully combines traditional folk instruments like acoustic guitars and percussion withnon-canonical electronic processing, creating an electro-acoustic alchemy thatfeels both fresh and timeless today, probably way more than it did in the1970s. In particular, the Leslie filter, a hallmarkin the Hammond organs popular at the time, is applied to the entire soundtrack, resulting in a very distinctive and dynamic phaser effect.

The soundtrack's highlight is probably the rock song featuring vocals from Giano Ton, aka Giacomo Tosti, the only track to have found its way on vinyl prior to this LP (it wasthe B-side ofa forty-five released by RCA Italy at the time). Its 9-minute extended version, previously unavailable on vinyl, is a fantastichard-blues-rock jam à la Hendrix.

This limited-edition double vinyl LP comes in a stunning gatefold jacket with artwork by Eric Adrien Lee, who drew inspiration from the film's original posters and promo materials.

Definitely a must-have for collectors of unique soundtracks and adventurous music!



a Matalo! (Theme Song) feat. Giano Ton






h Matalo! (Theme Song) Instrumental





n Matalo! (Theme Song) [Single Version]




[s] Matalo! (Hey Gente) [feat. Corrado Pani]

[a] Matalo! (Theme Song) [feat. Giano Ton]






[h] Matalo! (Theme Song) [Instrumental]





[n] Matalo! (Theme Song) [Single Version]




[feat. Corrado Pani]

microCastle’s second offering of 2024 welcomes Upercent back to the label for a new EP. Since first appearing in 2011, Valencia based sound architect Upercent has developed a distinct brand of electronic futurism. An enthusiastic attitude towards experimentation, coupled with extraordinary creative vision has made the Spaniard one of the more unique artists to emerge in the last decade. Upercent’s first microCastle project, 2018’s 'Vuit', not only served as the imprint's second ever vinyl release, but continued the Valencia resident’s mission to create contemporary club tools and destabilizing sound explorations. Seemingly in constant motion moving forward, Upercent would go on to record projects for Diynamic, Kompakt and Watergate, amongst others, firmly establishing his place amongst the underground’s premiere talents. Now more than five years on from this elusive string of projects, it has been Habitat, Innervisions, Sum Over Histories and TAU which have been vehicles for his creative swell over the last two calendar years, reminding us of the niche he carved out during his initial rise, as he continues to maneuver himself through the confines of electronic music. With 2024 being highlighted by ‘Falling’, a two-track collaborative project with Germany’s Adana Twins, Upercent now returns to microCastle with ‘Persevere’.

Beginning with the organic monochromes of ‘Oracle’, Upercent’s craftsmanship reveals itself across the slow-burning piece, one where funked-up beats and rubbery basslines get peppered with skittering rhythms, thought provoking vocal samples and glitched-out electronics. Its subdued yet swing-heavy suspense while perfect for an astute dancefloor, also acts as an ideal segue into the hopeful qualities of ‘As It May See’. Paul Brenning’s vocals feature here, falling like raindrops atop woody kick drums and clustered sonics, eventually giving way to an interlude of soulful phrasing, coaxing beautifully with granular textures and ghostly swirls of wind, before tastefully moving forward as panoramic arps emerge for a mesmerizing finale.

Upercent’s distinct aesthetic continues on the fourth selection ‘Cult’. Perhaps the most direct composition on the EP, its six-minute running time quickly sets you adrift in a techno-inspired wasteland of deconstructed vocals and retro chord stabs. Both intimate and wide-ranging, it's a series of crystal-like drones which engulf your attention whole, creating a sombre, ceremonial backdrop for misty glitches and fog-like swells to create a scenic storyboard. Reverberating hits and twitchy rhythms fill the space of closer ‘Blau Cel’, a production where Upercent crafts a trek through mountainous dancefloor trails. Unbound by gravity, orchestral gestures sweep across mossy plains and frost-filled sighs, offering listeners another immersive journey into the uncharted realms of musical expression.

As long as she can remember, Jane Remover has practiced her own autonomy as much as possible. The nineteen year old songwriter is an omnivorous listener that produces everything herself. She has been lauded by fans and writers alike, for accidentally creating entire genres in the wake of her prolific two-year run.

The new album is more conceptually abstract than its predecessor as Jane sheds linear narrative writing. However, it takes place beginning at sundown and through the night, up until the next morningʼs earliest crack of dawn. Its winding songs are obtuse but carefully composed, and intimately follow Jane's train of thought.

Dynamic production is at the forefront. Noisy highs gleam, and are juxtaposed by dusky Post-Rock lullabies within the same songʼs runtime. Census Designated is a staggering display of maturation in every aspect when compared to her previous presentation, to a degree that makes it few and far between in the world of albums.

Despite the darker palette, Jane steps into a technicolor clarity for the first time. The album was made in both studios and at home—with recordings from Studio North (Kensington in Philadelphia), mixes from Kayla Reagan and mastered by Hector Vega.

A photo of her standing bareback while facing away towards the high plains, serves as the cover art for an album where she manages to simultaneously divulge her most confessional moments yet, and captivate the listener with unanswerable questions.

‘Falling Backwards’ is the debut album from Him & Earl via Wah Wah 45s, serving up a mystic brew of desert blues, English folk, Americana and stirring southern soul, with tentacles stretching out into psychedelia and prog, across 11 hot and hazy tracks.

Singer-songwriter Olly Him and DJ, producer and composer Wyndham Earl both have deeply-dug roots in the south coast of England, with the former making his name as a solo artist before exploring his soulful folk/prog sound with a number of live acts, and the latter collaborating on albums and sharing stages with Bonobo, Khruangbin, Alice Russell and TM Juke, having remixes released by Tru Thoughts and Mr Bongo Records and releasing his solo projects on his Time Spun imprint.

The pair first met in 2015 when Wyndham produced some songs for now defunct hypnotic Afro-folk outfit Creatures Of The Deep, of which Olly was a founder member. They instantly clicked, but after the group broke up it was a few years before serendipity brought them back together; a chance encounter at a gig saw them begin hatching plans to make a full album under the name Him & Earl with Olly writing the songs and Wyndham arranging and producing the project.

After so long floating in the creative ether, the connective power of these songs has been strikingly immediate. The debut Him & Earl live show in early 2026, before any tracks had even come out, blew Olly and Wyndham’s expectations out of the water as their five-piece band found themselves toe-to-toe with a sellout crowd – a sweaty room full of happy music fans, on an otherwise bleak January night, throwing shapes to live percussion showdowns, losing themselves in psychedelic guitar and bass wig-outs, and singing along to choruses they’d never heard a note of before.

Since then, the first two singles “Bottled Up” and “Away” have had high profile airplay from the likes of BBC 6 Music’s Huw Stephens and Cerys Matthews, and Radio X’s John Kennedy, adding to widespread tastemaker and specialist support around the world, as excitement builds for the album.The LP’s introspective and philosophical lyrics are brought to life by a sonorous yet strangely uplifting sound palette that morphs by stealth into a darkly propulsive, psychedelic and bluesy trip.

Opening song “Away” taps straight into a key theme of the record – journeying, in both a physical and mental sense, and the quest to move on and embrace the unknown – and its sunny guitars, trumpet and violin barely even hint at the tumultuous sonic adventure that’s set to unfold. A stronger indication comes in the title track,“Falling Backwards”, as its elegant web of staccato finger-picked hook, fluid piano melodies and strings unfurls into a six-minute exploration of what Olly describes as “going through every day normality while feeling close to chaos and like things could fall apart at any moment… when there is a myriad of different things holding everything together and if one thing goes wrong everything can fall apart around it.”



“Better Days” swiftly restores a sense of upbeat calm, with lively Kora and Afrobeat-inspired guitar licks, atmospheric trumpet and a harmony-clad mantra of hope on the horizon; the folky “Bottled Up” continues that blissful notion with undulating finger-picked guitar, earthy clarinet counter-melodies and celestial murmurations of delicately plucked strings. The magnetic pull toward more mysterious horizons comes via the dusty twang of Wild West-esque guitars on “Open Road”, a nomadic journey of self-discovery through spacious sonic plains embellished with eerie flickers of flute and clarinet. This leftward turn gathers pace in the trancelike

psych-prog depths of “Preside”, an instrumental cut at the album’s pivotal halfway point. Hypnotic, guttural desert blues-infused riffs on “Inside” channel the feeling of a psychedelic or spiritual trip where, in Olly’s words, “something clicks and you understand things on a different level – it makes you see inside yourself and see things in a different way.” “Shadow overhead” brings a lighter touch to a darker subject – the feeling of paranoia and being locked away from the world – drawn from Olly’s own experience and also his years of working in and around mental health.

Exuberant horns lend hope to loosely looping suspense on “Blindside” (about being caught out by the unexpected, and searching for something to see or hear to pick you up again) and then mesh with urgent strings, low-slung guitars and subterranean bass on “Around Again”, which explores the modern fight to stay afloat amid the endless churn of information and distractions. Still plumbing the bassy, bluesy depths of this journey into the psyche, “You Can Only Know” is a dreamlike revelation about finding someone or something that helps to make sense of the world. Luminescent synths duck and weave, while a rock-solid bass riff is tracked by a soul-soothing four-part “hey hey” harmony, reassuring as a glowing lamp in the window at the end of a life-changing trip.

Evergreen In Your Mind, the new and third album from Norwegian singer-songwriter Juni Habel, exists in two worlds at the same time. Songs were recorded in quiet corners of her home, on the piano in the school where she works, and it uses the physical world around her to provide percussion. It also takes place, as she herself attests, within a dream; an imagined place in which her desire for oneness with each other and the world around us is finally realised.

Evergreen In Your Mind was recorded with co-producer Stian Skaaden, it’s Habel’s first album in three-years, following the breakthrough success of 2023’s Carvings LP. Formed of eleven new recordings, the songs here remain delicate, Habel’s voice playing an elegant lead role – but there are fluctuations too.

These small shifts in Habel’s sound result in a notable stride forward. More focus went into the groove of these songs. Playfulness was embraced and, perhaps most importantly, patience played a fundamental role in shaping the album with time and care given to every element of these songs. “We always aim to capture effortlessness - but the way of getting there is anything but effortless,” Habel reveals.

This extra time that was given to the project gave Juni the space to nurture her creativity. She would read and listen to music, hike into the hills, place herself within nature and seek out stillness. Not as a deviation from her work but as a fundamental part of the process. It’s a search for connection, and it’s a recurring theme across Evergreen In Your Mind; the polarity between stillness and passion, also our resistance to these desires, and the things we want to live and experience.

The album’s title-track and fist single feels indicative of this narrative. A gorgeous, delicate folk song, it finds Habel out in the woods, hiding from real life, caught in the space between the natural world and the pull of modernity. “It’s nostalgic. It’s about looking back and realizing things will be different,” Habel says. “Its about visualizing something beautiful in your head that you keep clinging onto.”

The album cover for Evergreen In Your Mind also adds shimmer. A striking photograph of Juni among the mountains, it was taken on a day trip to Rondane, a five-hour drive each way from her home. Habel explains. “It was awe-inspiring to drive all the way up into the high mountains, with its wide plains and intense colours. For an album with music that at times likes to hide itself, I think it fitted nicely with such an epic, grand, and powerful landscape.”

"Fans of Nick Drake, Karen Dalton and Neil Young will find much to enjoy in this musical equivalent of an evening spent alone by the fireside.” The Times

Im April 2026 bringt Eaves Wilder ihr heiß erwartetes Debütalbum ,Little Miss Sunshine" raus. Die Platte ist ein krasser Entwicklungssprung für die Singer-Songwriterin aus Nord-London, die 2020 mit 16 Jahren mit ihrem selbst aufgenommenen Lockdown-Release ,Won't You Be Happy" zum ersten Mal auf sich aufmerksam gemacht hat. Eaves begann mit der Arbeit an ,Little Miss Sunshine" nach einer Phase des Nachdenkens, in der sie sich fragte, ob sie der Musik in ihrem Kopf letztlich gerecht werden könnte. Wer sich mit dem Album beschäftigt, entdeckt zehn Songs, die sich an den Zyklen der Natur orientieren, um die emotionalen Stimmungen zu erklären und zu feiern, die uns zu Menschen machen. ,Als ich am Boden war", erinnert sich Eaves, die an einer Stelle sogar lacht, als sie sich daran erinnert, wie sie beschloss, die Musik ganz aufzugeben, um in ein Kloster einzutreten: ,Ich wollte einfach nur unmenschlich, gefühllos und unbewegt sein. Wie ein Berg oder ein Baum. Oder der Himmel. Das sind alles Dinge, die einen Zweck haben, aber ich wusste nicht, was mein Zweck war. Und so musste ich es herausfinden, Song für Song." Auf Little Miss Sunshine wird diese Geschichte in spannenden Episoden erzählt, angefangen mit den ersten Sekunden des Albums und der Lead-Single Hurricane Girl, einer sensationellen Synergie aus durchscheinenden Shoegaze-Harmonien und elementaren Rockgitarren, inspiriert durch Dokumentarfilme über Sturmjäger, wobei die Metapher verwendet wird, um ein Licht auf Freunde zu werfen, die gezwungen waren, stürmische Beziehungen zu suchen. ,Ich habe das Gefühl, dass dies mein Pearl-Jam-Song ist", erklärt sie. ,Das erste Mal, als ich Pearl Jam hörte, war ich auf einem riesigen Berg in Wales. In derselben Woche hörte ich auch zum ersten Mal Jagged Little Pill von Alanis Morissette." Von hier aus, bis hin zu seinem schmerzlich bewegenden Requiem an die Kindheit Summer Rolls fungiert jeder Song auf Little Miss Sunshine als leuchtender Koordinatenpunkt in einem Bogen der Selbstfindung. Da ist der hochfliegende Klangrausch Everybody Talks, mit seinem ansteigenden Crescendo aus aufdringlichen Stimmen, der auf beiden Seiten des Atlantiks große Unterstützung im Radio fand. Für Mountain Sized bezog sie sich auf Lily Allens Single The Fear aus dem Jahr 2009 - ,weil da diese eine Frau ist, die ganz beiläufig all die schlimmsten Dinge über sich selbst aufzählt, Dinge, die man sich eigentlich nicht trauen würde zuzugeben". In Eaves' Song wird diese aufkommende Angst jedoch durch einen panoramischen Refrain ausgelöscht, in dem sie die Grenzen ihrer realen Welt durchbricht, um zu verkünden: ,But in my mind/But in my mind/I am taller than the highest mountain sides." In dem schmerzlich melodiösen ,The Great Plains" hinterfragt Eaves ihre frühesten Erinnerungen, in denen sie ihre ältere Schwester Dora vergötterte. ,Sie war so zurückhaltend und wie eine Meerjungfrau", erinnert sich Eaves, ,und ich wurde von meinen Emotionen beherrscht - und je mehr ich versuchte, das nicht zu sein, desto mehr wurde mir klar, dass ich niemals wie sie sein könnte." In dem Song findet Eaves eine Art Selbstakzeptanz, indem sie auf die Natur schaut, um zu erfahren, dass es okay ist, so zu sein, wie sie ist: "As I erupt into a blaze / It's ok the sky will do the same/Let no-one bat an eye when / Every year I'll hibernate till May / Because no-one blames the clouds for rain / So take me as I am, tears down my face." Als die Sessions an Fahrt gewannen, fand Eaves Inspiration in zeitgenössischen Veröffentlichungen. Beispiele dafür waren Wolf Alice (,die einzige Band, die die Balance gefunden hat, die ich immer suche - die Kombination aus schweren Gitarren und hohen, ätherischen Vocals"), Mannequin Pussy (,sie gaben mir etwas von dem, was ich in der Ära von Riot Grrrl vermisst habe, als L7 und Babes In Toyland auf Tour waren") und CMATs ,geradlinig brillantes Songwriting". Weitere Highlights auf einem Album, das von ihnen geprägt ist, sind Daisy Chain Reaction, dessen glitzernder Power-Pop-Glanz einen Text über die Kultur des Wettbewerbs rund um Essstörungen verbirgt, und der unangenehme, mechanisierte Angriff von Just Say No, ein Song, der auf den brutalen Wahrheiten basiert, die Eaves und ihre Freundinnen in ihren Auseinandersetzungen mit missbräuchlichen Männern gesammelt haben. Zwei Jahre lang hat Eaves unermüdlich daran gearbeitet, jeden einzelnen Vers, Refrain, Pre-Chorus und Middle Eight auf Little Miss Sunshine zu verfeinern, bevor sie mit dem Co-Produzenten des Albums, Andy Savours (My Bloody Valentine, The Killers, The Horrors), ins Studio ging. Dies ist ein Album, auf dem jedes einzelne Detail seinen Platz verdient hat und das Zeugnis ablegt von der einzigartigen musikalischen Vision seiner Schöpferin.

François and Sylvain Rabbath have turned six years of touring into a joint album that patiently and intensely distills a variety of musical flavors gathered from around the world.

Since the early 1960s, François Rabbath's double bass has resonated through enough landmark recordings to fill several shelves in a record collection. As an arranger, composer, and musician, his imprint on music goes far beyond his collaborations with Barbara, Paco Ibáñez, Charles Aznavour, or Édith Piaf. Aspiring double bassists owe him a groundbreaking method for learning the instrument. Born into a lush musical universe that quickly became his own, his son Sylvain first accompanied him on his travels before settling at the piano and sharing stages around the world at his side.

Those years of accumulating visas in their passports were put to good use by father and son. The continents, countries, and cities they passed through became a rich source of inspiration for composing Amall, the album by the Rabbath Electric Orchestra.

Long hours spent in the air or on the road, watching passing landscapes that never stayed the same, were transformed into compositions imbued with the atmospheres of the places they crossed or visited. Inspiration sometimes struck with force, like a green oasis appearing in a desert of stone—unexpectedly, as glowing red rocks suddenly dominated an otherwise open landscape with an endless horizon, while the mind wandered into a state between meditation and introspection.
Born from these travels, the pieces took on their final colors once brought into the studio, refined, and finally arranged to welcome the guitars of Keziah Jones and Matthieu Chedid, the piano of Laurent de Wilde, the bass of Victor Wooten, the saxophone of Raphaël Imbert, and the percussion of Minino Garay. Enhanced by the scale of the jazz-soul orchestrations, by the richness of arrangements bursting from strings, brass, rhythms, or keyboards, the epic breath of vast plains became ingrained. The urban tension of funk, echoing their movements, found its place—alongside more electric expressions or the ambience of a darkened room.
Melancholic and melodious, expressive and edgy, the bowed double bass—played in the high register where few dare to go—emerged as the musical guide. One that draws a path between Seville and Minneapolis, connects François Rabbath's native Syria to France, and bridges South America to Europe. It sets the tone to follow—the emotion that will carry the piece, and if not filled with light, will carry it there nonetheless.
Musical visions packed in luggage, transported in cargo holds, or imprinted in their minds just long enough to cover the distances to the next stop—father and son deepened their bond, beyond family and art. And their hands have never held each other more tightly.

François et Sylvain Rabbath ont fait fructifier six ans de tournées pour un album commun distillant patiemment et intensément la variété de parfums musicaux récoltés autour du monde.
Depuis le début des 60’s, la contrebasse de François Rabbath résonne dans assez de références pour combler plusieurs étagères d’une collection de disques. Arrangeur, compositeur, musicien, l'empreinte laissée dans la musique va bien au-delà de ses collaborations avec Barbara, Paco Ibanez, Charles Aznavour, ou Edith Piaf. C’est à lui que les
apprentis contrebassistes doivent une méthode novatrice pour apprendre l’instrument.

Né dans un univers musical luxuriant qui est vite devenu aussi le sien, c’est d’abord dans ses voyages que son fils Sylvain l’a accompagné, avant de s’installer au piano, et parcourir les scènes du monde à ses côtés. Ces années où les visas se sont entassés sur leurs passeports, père et fils les ont mises à profit. Continents, pays, et villes qui se sont succédés sont devenues un gisement pour composer Amall, l’album du Rabbath Electric Orchestra.

Les longs moments passés dans les airs ou sur la route à contempler un paysage qui défile sans pour autant rester le même, se sont convertis en compositions habitées par les ambiances de ces endroits traversés ou visités. Là où l’inspiration s’est imposée parfois brutalement, sous
la forme d’un oasis de verdure surgissant au milieu d’un désert de pierres. Au hasard d’imposantes roches rougeoyantes s’invitant dans un paysage jusqu’alors dégagé sur un horizon sans fin, quand l’esprit se laisse aller à un mélange de méditation et d'introspection.

Nés de ces pérégrinations, les titres ont pris leurs couleurs définitives une fois ramenés en studio, peaufinés puis, enfin, pensés pour y inviter les guitares de Keziah Jones et de Matthieu Chedid, le piano de Laurent de Wilde, la basse de Victor Wooten, le saxophone de Raphaël Imbert, les percussions de Minino Garay. Sublimé par la dimension des orchestrations jazz-soul, par la richesse des arrangements jaillissant des cordes, des cuivres, des rythmiques ou des claviers, le souffle épique des plaines immenses s’est imprimé.
La nervosité citadine du funk rythmant les déplacements a trouvé sa place, non loin d’une expression plus électrique ou d’une atmosphère de salle obscure.

Mélancolique et mélodieuse, expressive et nerveuse, la contrebasse jouée à l’archet, dans les notes hautes du manche où peu s’aventurent, s’est érigée en guide musical. Celui qui trace le chemin entre Séville et Minneapolis, relie la Syrie natale de François Rabbath à la France,
réduit la distance entre l’Amérique du Sud et l’Europe. Donne la note à suivre, l’émotion qui traversera le morceau qui, s’il n’est pas habité par la lumière, le portera néanmoins jusque là.

Visions musicales mises dans le coffre, transportées en soute ou imprimées dans l’esprit le temps de couvrir les distances qui les mèneront aux prochaines, c’est côte à côte que père et fils ont prolongé leur lien par delà des seules limites familiales et artistiques. Et leurs mains ne se sont jamais serrées aussi fort.
credits

Carrying the torch of psychedelic cumbia, with a healthy dose
of surf guitar and Amazonian dancefloor flourishes from Peru
and Brazil alike, Fiesta en la Jungla by Los Dexter’s de Uchiza
is the first release from the newly formed London-label Ritmo
del Barrio. Originally released in 1982, it captures the finest
cumbia being made in Peru at the time, decked out with
frenetic surf-rock guitar riffs, rhythms floating on crisp
cumbia percussion and occasionally punctuated by carimbó
breakdowns native to the Pará region of north-eastern Brazil.
The album is filled with energy, a gem that was always
intended to animate any dancefloor. Peruvian cumbia came to national attention in the late 60s
through the recordings of Juaneco y su Combo, Los Destellos
and Los Wembler’s de Iquitos, but it’s had many revivals, and
Fiesta en la Jungla arrived when the style was going through a
major transition. In 1977, a passenger plane carrying most of
the members of Juaneco y su Combo crashed, killing everyone
on board. In 1980, Los Destellos retired, and Los Wembler’s
released their tenth and final record, they were ready for a
break. This left a big void in Peruvian music. Wasting no time,
Los Dexter’s Emerson Ruiz Mosquera took the opportunity and
gave his band new life, filling the band’s ranks with young and
energetic musicians who were hungry for success. He built the
new band around a solid base of dexterous guitars, a dynamite
rhythm section, and added oodles of percussion and an electric
organ, giving them a powerful psychedelic sound that called
back to the sounds of the original chichamasters, but added a
new sheen. Along with bands like Los Shapis and Los Walkers
de Huánuco, Peruvian cumbia was reborn as chicha in the
1980s, and was now the sound of Peru’s barrios up and down
the country.
Based in the city of Uchiza, on the edges of the Amazon basin,
Los Dexter’s were uniquely located in central Peru, closer to the
largest urban centres of the country than Amazonian outposts
like Pucallpa or Iquitos, and therefore better positioned to
travel to the furthest reaches of the country with ease. In a
sense, Los Dexter’s were a bridge between the Amazon and the
rest of Peru, a bridge over which the sounds of Amazonian
cumbia could travel to the rest of the country on their way to
becoming one of the most ubiquitous elements of Peru’s musical
identity. Fiesta en la Jungla represents Los Dexter’s in their third
iteration. Led by Emerson Ruiz Mosquera, who was just a
young boy in 1970 when his older brother founded the group
with four of his friends, the ensemble by the time of Fiesta en la
Jungla included Orlando Abad on the timbales and lead vocals,
Lucho Bendezú on lead guitar, Javier Quiroz as second
guitarist, Alejandro Almeira on bass, Rufino Bustamante on
keyboard, Ramon Siu on bongos and bells, Ivan Rios on conga,
and Emerson as musical director and composer. Remarkably,
most of the group’s members helped to write at least one
track, Los Dexter’s were a collective endeavour.
Reissued on vinyl for the first time by Ritmo del Barrio, this
record is essential for any collector of Peruvian cumbia.
Showcasing the unique sound of Los Dexter’s, it carries hits
like “Fuga en la Selva” and “El Shiringuero”, which are sure to
set any dancefloor on fire, combined with slower, carimbó-
infused cumbias like “Fiesta en la Jungla,”and “Agua de
Cachilde.” Its closing track, “Tragedia en Uchiza'', is a key
piece of local history and tells of the flooding of the
Chontayacu River in 1982, a mortal tragedy that affected
thousands of people. Despite the subject matter, the album
maintains a joyful vibe throughout, with high energy riffs and
irresistible rhythms, contrasted with terse love ballads, like “A
Jhenny.” It is both a piece of musical history, and a sure-fire
tool for the dance floor.
Los Dexter’s became a fixture of festivals and celebrations in
the provinces of San Martin and Huánuco, and from expanded
across the country, taking Amazonian cumbia from the
Peruvian Amazon, to the heights of the Peruvian sierra, the
coastal plains, and the capital city of Lima.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Wyatt Flores, is an American country music singer-songwriter and musician. EMI are please to announced his debut album Welcome To The Plains will be released in UK on 18th October. Flores told fans that the record will be released on October 18th and was inspired by his native Oklahoma and ultimate search for happiness. From stories about his life, family and many places he’s been, it is highly-anticipated by fans and was produced by Beau Bedford (Orville Peck, Shane Smith & The Saints). They recorded the songs between Los Angeles and Asheville, North Carolina (a pretty stark contrast), and the songs feature writers like Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor and Aaron Raitiere, as Wyatt details the struggle of leaving his hometown of Stillwater and dealing with the highs and lows of life on the road as an up-and-coming musician.

Diese „men of Steele“ waren wieder einmal fleißig! Nur ein Jahr nach ihrer bombastisch-epischen Veröffentlichung ‚The Passion Of Dionysus‘, die im Sommer 2023 erschienen ist, wird am 23. August 2024 über Steamhammer/SPV auch die unvergessene zweite Virgin Steele-Scheibe ‚Guardians Of The Flame‘ als Digi-CD und Gatefold-Doppel-Vinyl-LP sowie in digitaler Form wiederveröffentlicht

David DeFeis hat der Wiederveröffentlichung ebenfalls den Spitznamen ‚The Anniversary Edition‘ gegeben, denn wie beim Re-Release des Virgin Steele-Debüts hat er das komplette Album von Anfang bis Ende neu gemischt. Er sagt: „Es macht Sinn, diesen Titel hinzuzufügen, denn genau wie bei Virgin Steele 1 ist auch dies eine ganz besondere Neuauflage. Auch hier gilt: ‚Guardians Of The Flame‘ ist ein großes Fest! Jeder Song wurde liebevoll restauriert und mit festem Glauben, heißem Herz und hartem Stahl neu gemischt.

Der Nachfolger des 2020er Tohu Wa Bohu-Albums! Das neue Lord Buffalo-Album Holus Bolus hat seinen Namen von einer antiquierten Redewendung, die "alles auf einmal" bedeutet. Der graue Dunst, der den Hörer mit einem geschickten Nebeneinander von dröhnender Violine, Gitarren, Schlagzeug und Gesang in den Bann zieht, ist von den ersten Tönen an spürbar.Das Quartett watet zwar in denselben düsteren Gewässern wie seine dunklen, gefühlsbetonten Brüder David Eugene Edwards/Woven Hand, All Them Witches, Emma Ruth Rundle, Earth/Dylan Carlson, Chelsea Wolfe und Nick Cave, doch das kreative Zusammenspiel von Einflüssen aus dem Nahen Osten und westlichem Americana-Folk führt das Album in seine eigene, einhüllende, meditative Richtung.Auf einer schlaftrunkenen Reise durch die Ikonographie der High Plains ist Holus Bolus düster und doch hoffnungsvoll - eine Mischung, die inzwischen zu Lord Buffalos bewährter Gewohnheit geworden ist. Klappcover, LP ist ice & aqua blue galaxy marble effect Vinyl oder Digipack-CD!

Der Nachfolger des 2020er Tohu Wa Bohu-Albums! Das neue Lord Buffalo-Album Holus Bolus hat seinen Namen von einer antiquierten Redewendung, die "alles auf einmal" bedeutet. Der graue Dunst, der den Hörer mit einem geschickten Nebeneinander von dröhnender Violine, Gitarren, Schlagzeug und Gesang in den Bann zieht, ist von den ersten Tönen an spürbar.Das Quartett watet zwar in denselben düsteren Gewässern wie seine dunklen, gefühlsbetonten Brüder David Eugene Edwards/Woven Hand, All Them Witches, Emma Ruth Rundle, Earth/Dylan Carlson, Chelsea Wolfe und Nick Cave, doch das kreative Zusammenspiel von Einflüssen aus dem Nahen Osten und westlichem Americana-Folk führt das Album in seine eigene, einhüllende, meditative RichtungAuf einer schlaftrunkenen Reise durch die Ikonographie der High Plains ist Holus Bolus düster und doch hoffnungsvoll - eine Mischung, die inzwischen zu Lord Buffalos bewährter Gewohnheit geworden ist. Klappcover, diese limitierte Version ist emerald green and gold color merge Vinyl!

Timelash is the evolution of Embassador Dulgoon’s cryptozoological sci-fi opus ‘Hydrorion Remnants’ converging with Corum’s surreal sonic mapping as ‘Beguiling Isles’. The combined cinematic vision jettisons listeners through a psychedelic wormhole far beyond the usual perception of known audio latitude.

Aguirre Records has gone all out to inject this tribal dino DNA double slab of wax presented as twelve expansive and mesmerizing tracks of historical mutations linking early communication developments with speculative astrobiological impressions heard as mysterious & riveting melodies that wash over dizzying percussive styles and suspenseful ambience.

A variety of unexampled sounds take shape throughout as tectonic tablature, reptilian choral movements, bubbling bioluminescence, tube calls, orogenic bells, crustacean chatter, lost continent scales, high plains drifting riffs, and primordial soup lapping splashes revealing to listeners a living mural that is ’A Morphology of Wonders'.

The conjuring of cratonic creature harmonics resonate wildly from this interdimensional duet, emerging as Neopangaea music of now

"The seven songs of Tombeaux comprise the Brooklyn-based composer and multi-instrumentalist’s third full-length recording, and her first written and arranged for a large ensemble. Frustrated by the limitations of self-production and solitary home recording, Sridharan set out to create something sonically broader, featuring sitar, vibraphone, woodwinds, horns, strings, and piano. Tombeaux is richly textured and deeply felt, weaving medieval and classical influences into a distinct art pop tapestry that will be much loved by fans of Laurie Anderson, Bel Canto, Anna von Hausswolf, and Julia Holter, who produced the record.

The record’s subject is as expansive as the ensemble; each song is a discrete tale of a death, imagined by Sridharan and told in the first person. From reimagining the work of 16th-century Indian poet Mirabai to exploring Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea afterworld, The Dry Land, to writing about her own grandmother’s death, Sridharan teases out the varied nature of death, applying a broad range of historical and cultural lenses to this great inevitability.

Sridharan was raised by an Indian father who exposed her to Indian classical music and a mother whose passion for history, archeology, and medieval music informed and inspired her from an early age. Her upbringing in the woods of Michigan and high school years on the shores Lake Michigan perhaps further inspired her tendency toward reverie, imagined narratives, and the drama that unfolds between this shore and the next.

Though not intended as an exhaustive survey of ideas of death across cultures, Tombeaux’s scope is impressive, shot through with the feel of a book of short stories, or a performance of tales. It is enchanting and elegantly executed, sensitively shepherded by Holter’s production."

New West Records is proud to present Strange Country, the new full-length album from the young and gifted cousin-duo Kacy & Clayton. The ten-song collection was recorded over seven freezing Canadian winter days at Ghetto Box Studios, a historic community hall turned studio. The product of a lifetime of deep kinship, the record showcases the purity and astounding beauty of Kacy Anderson's voice, one that has been notably compared to Fairport Convention's Sandy Denny. Only Clayton Linthicum's intricate guitar work, expert time changes and vocal harmonies could forge the foundation for Kacy's voice to soar even higher - the result being an enormously satisfying and organic album. Drawing a wide swath of inspirations ranging from the Greenwich Village folk scene to the ancestral music of Southern Appalachia and the British Isles, the cousins fashion songs steeped in those traditions, simultaneously paying homage and building on those sounds.

Wir stellen vor: "American Gothic" von Wayfarer.Begib Dich mit Wayfarer auf eine transzendentale Reise, wenn sie ihr neuestes Werk "American Gothic" vorstellen. Die atmosphärische Black-Metal-Band aus Colorado taucht tief in den reichen Teppich der Americana-Themen ein. Dieses Album markiert einen bedeutenden Meilenstein auf ihrem musikalischen Erkundungszug.Dieses außergewöhnliche Album überschreitet die traditionellen musikalischen Grenzen und fasst die Essenz der verschiedenen Landschaften Amerikas zusammen. Wayfarers musikalisches Können malt eine lebendige und eindrucksvolle Klanglandschaft. Sie vereinen atmosphärischen Black Metal mit Elementen des Post-Rock und Folk und verbinden mühelos fesselnde Melodien mit wilder Intensität. Erhältlich als Ltd. 180g worn-steel silver LP mit Newspaper-look Booklet, sowie als CD Digipak.

Wir stellen vor: "American Gothic" von Wayfarer.Begib Dich mit Wayfarer auf eine transzendentale Reise, wenn sie ihr neuestes Werk "American Gothic" vorstellen. Die atmosphärische Black-Metal-Band aus Colorado taucht tief in den reichen Teppich der Americana-Themen ein. Dieses Album markiert einen bedeutenden Meilenstein auf ihrem musikalischen Erkundungszug.Dieses außergewöhnliche Album überschreitet die traditionellen musikalischen Grenzen und fasst die Essenz der verschiedenen Landschaften Amerikas zusammen. Wayfarers musikalisches Können malt eine lebendige und eindrucksvolle Klanglandschaft. Sie vereinen atmosphärischen Black Metal mit Elementen des Post-Rock und Folk und verbinden mühelos fesselnde Melodien mit wilder Intensität. Erhältlich als Ltd. 180g worn-steel silver LP mit Newspaper-look Booklet, sowie als CD Digipak.

An outstanding 2LP compiling the best instrumentals of the greatest white rap group ever: the Beastie Boys. New Yorkers Ad-Rock, MCA and Mike D crossed over into the mainstream in the mid 80s with their full-length Licensed to Ill and exploded any notions of one-dimensionality with its ambitious followups such as Paul's Boutique, On Check Your Head and Ill Communication. Taking influences from hardcore and hip hop, these innovators performed most of the music while integrating an array of rock samples, 808 beats and witty wordplay into an ever-intriguing sonic smorgasbord.

White Vinyl

An outstanding 2LP compiling the best instrumentals of the greatest white rap group ever: the Beastie Boys. New Yorkers Ad-Rock, MCA and Mike D crossed over into the mainstream in the mid 80s with their full-length Licensed to Ill and exploded any notions of one-dimensionality with its ambitious followups such as Paul's Boutique, On Check Your Head and Ill Communication. Taking influences from hardcore and hip hop, these innovators performed most of the music while integrating an array of rock samples, 808 beats and witty wordplay into an ever-intriguing sonic smorgasbord.

Swedish duo Thunder Tillman come together again in healing harmony to produce a much needed LP for troubled times. Thunder and his life coach Pony bring their spirits in sync for 40 minutes of improvised soundtracks for mental and physical wellbeing.

Recorded on Stockholm’s Wind Island, the pair have carefully selected specimens from their collection of vintage musical paraphernalia to channel these specific vibrations for maximum healing power.

Side one is a gentle wake up call for the soul, with pipes and chimes that gently give way to mind-expanding synths and feedback echoes that sound like sun glistening off a mountain river. Those sounds lead into an electric piano and life affirming synth figure, before disintegrating into santoor strings and chants with a slight Indian flavor. It’s a cosmic combination that invites relaxation and meditation, and the kind of deep breathing exercises that could turn back the clock on a host of bodily ailments. An electric piano comes back to the foreground with a bass and synth combination that drives forward with healing hands, before parting the frequencies for ear-tickling pads and voices. Rounding out the side is a chiming synth and santoor figure that brings the wandering spirit home and to rest.

Side two starts up with Cosmic Osmosis - a motorik drum machine beat and bass line that briefly brings to mind some of their more krautrock inspired modes across their three previous Eps, but soon collapses back into visceral synth twinkles and relaxing washes of analogue tones. It’s a dynamic that drives the whole record, sounds that excite the soul perhaps even the body on an atomic level, before bringing that energy down to a calming, relaxing home. There’s a craftsmanship to their synthesized tones that goes beyond mere artistry, and the interplay between sounds and frequencies is especially inspired, to the point where the music practically sparkles out of the speakers. Side two closes out with harmonic chimes that could put you on a Himalayan mountain side, and succeeds in raising the spirit, mind and body to higher plains of cosmic consciousness.

The Aural Healing Program is accompanied by a 40 minutes Visual Healing Program that will be unveiled in conjunction with the vinyl release. The first visual healing session featuring side B opener Cosmic Osmosis, is already available for all to partake. So just relax, let go and let the frequencies guide you.

Stars of the Lids, Tim Hecker, Brian Eno, Manuel. Duo Consists of Jonas Munk (aka Manual) and Jason Kolb (guitarist from Auburn Lull). 4th album, 2nd for Felte and first one since 2012. Initially on blue vinyl. Past press by Pitchfork, XLR8R, Impose. Past project Releases on Morr Music, Darla, and more. Billow Observatory is the project of trans-Atlantic duo Jonas Munk (Denmark) and Jason Kolb (Michigan). Initially planned as a small sideproject from their main work in Manual and Auburn Lull respectively, the two quickly realized their collaborative experiments merited more time and attention. Using heavily treated cavernous guitars, subtle synths, and crackling radio transmissions, their self-titled debut was released in 2012 as a double LP and established Billow Observatory as purveyors of unhurried, highly detailed ambient immersion. The release pair of II: Plains/Patterns in 2017, and III: Chroma/Contour in 2019, on Munk's own Azure Vista Records, introduced a subtle underpinning of rhythm, pulse, and stutter among the washes, expanding their sound with a hint of understated electronica. Marking 10 years since debuting on Felte, 2022 sees the release of Stareside, their most forcefully elegant undertaking to date. A record of swaying quarantine temperament, Stareside's 9 tracks thread the needle between hope and hopelessness - daydreaming whilst watching the world go mad in the blink of an eye. Not shy of overt rhythm, soaring motifs, and daunting undercurrents, Stateside veers wildly in new directions, yet keeps one hand near the record bin of comforting nostalgia (think early Warp Records, Jon Hassel, and Conny Plank to name a few).

Cassandra Jenkins' An Overview on Phenomenal Nature emerged from the blue earlier this year. With pandemic unknowns and political upheaval leaving most at frayed ends, the New York-born musician’s assuring voice and expansive fresh take on songwriting created a much needed reflective space for listeners worldwide. As 2021 comes to a close, Jenkins revisits those flowing textures and refrains with (An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature, a collection of previously unreleased sonic sketches, initial run-throughs, demos, and sound recordings from the cutting room floor that provided the scaffolding for what became one of this year’s most critically acclaimed albums.

When Jenkins visited Josh Kaufman’s studio this summer, they opened up their original sessions to uncover the ideas that were shed in the creative process. The new collection, (An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature, isn’t merely a retrospective; it acts as a clear-eyed addendum as well as a compelling origin story, coming to life as a subconscious companion to the original album.

First takes of “New Bikini” and “Hailey” are born from opposite starting points; while “New Bikini” began as an airy alto meander, “Hailey”’s origins lie in an upbeat dance track. On “Crosshairs (Interlude),” Jenkins’ pitched vocal delivers a straight monotone, recasting the format as poetry with music highlighting her words, and “Ambiguous Norway (Instrumental)” lifts the ambient nature of the mournful song into glimmering waves. The demo version of “Michelangelo” contains alternate lyrics “I’m Michelangelo, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle,” a lost contrast to the later verse where Jenkins’ likens herself to the sculptor. On “Hard Drive (Security Guard),” we join Jenkins as she listens to a passionate museum guard whose promised “overview” of the exhibit on view builds into a monologue of observations on art, politics, feminism and the human condition. This candid interaction evolved into the cornerstone and title of Jenkins’ album.

Before they decided to make an album together, Jenkins brought Kaufman a song called “American Spirits.”The dusky ballad takes us to the Texas plains via a voicemail from the payphone of a county jail (“Miss Cassandra”). Cassandra sings, “Time here burns through the sunsets / Like you and a pack of American Spirits” over warm instrumentation with a vocal delivery that reinforces Jenkins’ unwavering tenderness towards her subjects.

(An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature bookends Cassandra Jenkins' musical output this year with nuance, coloring in the corners, and giving us another window into her ever-expanding world of chance encounters, experiences, and sonic textures. They glimmer like the sun’s changing patterns on the wall as a new day gets going.

Home to Cuca Records and hundreds of Nashville-fantasizing pluckers and singers, Wisconsin’s Driftless region was a hotbed of country music in the 1960s. Influenced by old-timey ethnic songs, Bakersfield outlaws, countrypolitan rainbows, and the lonesome twang of every rural route roadhouse, these 17 Driftless Dreamers washed up at Jim Kirchstein’s Sauk City record plant with little more than $100 and a longing. Collected here are the fruits of Cuca’s documentary approach to record making, capturing the voices and stories of a culture and glacier in abatement.

Shovel Knight began as a modest, yet highly promising Kickstarter project in March 2013. Billed as “a groundbreaking love letter to 8 bits!” by Indie developer Yacht Club Games, this 2D side-scrolling platform game released in June 2014 to universal praise and accolades.

Fans and industry professionals praised Shovel Knight for its charming retro-2D visuals, humorous story, fun characters and strong gameplay design, which all came together to offer a game that is nostalgic yet very modern. The efforts of Yacht Club Games paid off when Shovel Knight was won the prestigious “Best Independent Game” award at The Game Awards 2014. The game’s chiptune soundtrack, composed by Jake Kaufman and Manami Matsumae, is integral to the game’s modern-retro identity and has been similarly praised for its outstanding arrangements, memorable melodies and strong technical composition. This definitive soundtrack contains all music from the original Shovel Knight game released in June 2014, with a vinyl tracklist crafted by Jake Kaufman himself. The package cover and inner-gatefold have been designed exclusively for the soundtrack by Hitoshi Ariga; an interview with co-composer Manami Matsumae; and character artwork from the game.

Home to Cuca Records and hundreds of Nashville-fantasizing pluckers and singers, Wisconsin’s Driftless region was a hotbed of country music in the 1960s. Influenced by old-timey ethnic songs, Bakersfield outlaws, countrypolitan rainbows, and the lonesome twang of every rural route roadhouse, these 17 Driftless Dreamers washed up at Jim Kirchstein’s Sauk City record plant with little more than $100 and a longing. Collected here are the fruits of Cuca’s documentary approach to record making, capturing the voices and stories of a culture and glacier in abatement.

For nearly two straight years following the release of their critically acclaimed debut, Chasing Lights, Ida Mae lived on the road, crisscrossing the US from coast to coast as they performed hundreds of dates with everyone from Willie Nelson and Alison Krauss to Marcus King and Greta Van Fleet. And while those shows were certainly formative for the electrifying British duo, it was what happened in between — the countless hours spent driving through small towns and big cities, past sprawling suburbs and forgotten ghost towns, across rolling plains and snow-capped mountains — that truly laid the groundwork for the band’s transportive new album, Click Click Domino. Written primarily in the backseat of a moving car, the record embodies all the momentum and possibility of the great American unknown, offering up a series of cinematic vignettes full of hope and disappointment, promise and regret, connection and loneliness. The songs on Click Click Domino are raw and direct, fueled by an innovative mix of vintage instruments and modern electronics, and the performances are loose and exhilarating to match, drawing on early rock and roll, classic country, British folk, and 50’s soul to forge a sound that’s equal parts Alan Lomax field recording and 21st century garage band. Turpin and Jean produced the album themselves, recording primarily on their own in their adopted hometown of Nashville during the COVID-19 pandemic, and while the collection is certainly bolstered by appearances from high profile guests like Marcus King, Greta Van Fleet’s Jake Kiszka, and Ethan Johns, the heart and soul of the record remains Ida Mae’s intoxicating chemistry, which has never felt more vibrant, ambitious, or self-assured. Now married, Turpin and Jean first met a little over a decade ago while attending university in Bath. The pair bonded immediately over their love for the sounds of bygone eras, and they quickly earned rave reviews everywhere from the BBC to the NME with their raucous first group, Kill It Kid. Starting over fresh as a duo named for Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee’s “Ida Mae,” the first song they ever harmonized on, Turpin and Jean relocated to Nashville in 2019 and released Chasing Lights to similarly widespread critical acclaim. Rolling Stone hailed the album’s “stomping swirl of blues and guitar-heavy Americana,” while The Independent lauded its “retro lustre” and “impressive experimentation,” and NPR’s Heavy Rotation called it “tightly drawn, harmonic and hypnotic.” The music helped the earn the duo a slew of support dates with the likes of Greta Van Fleet, The Marcus King Band, Blackberry Smoke, Josh Ritter, Rodrigo y Gabriela, and The Lone Bellow, as well as performances at Bonnaroo, the Telluride Blues & Brews Festival, the Philadelphia Folk Festival, Germany’s Reeperbahn Festival, and Switzerland’s Zermatt Unplugged.

Before there was Rimarimba, Suffolk-born, Felixstowe-based musician and home recording enthusiast Robert Cox assembled a cast of friends, some musicians and some not so much, for an experiment in group exploration and ecstatic expression under the name The Same. Sonically and gravitationally defined by Cox’s collaboration with guitarist Andy Thomas (a partnership which formed in 1976 to record as General Motors), Sync or Swim, The Same’s one and only album, also featured keyboards by Florence Atkinson and Paul Ridout, and vocals by Robert’s sister Rebecca.

Originally released in small cassette and vinyl quantities on Unlikely Records, Cox’s imprint and a meeting point for many other musicians found at the fringe, the back cover of the original album jacket is as much a map of the personnel, place, and process

fundamental to Sync or Swim as it is a table of contents for DIY music-making at the beginning of the 80s: “Recorded in peaceful Wiltshire between September 18th and October 6th 1981 (using a miscellany of home made devices) onto a Teac A-3300SX via a Teac A-3440. No noise reduction systems were used.”

The additional equipment listed – a combination of consumer technology and DIY innovation – speaks to an unpretentious, improvisational ethos that pilots Sync or Swim, and Cox’s career as a whole. Rimarimba, whose near complete discography Freedom To Spend made available again in 2019, showcased Cox’s simultaneously hermetic and prolific creative process, while The Same celebrates making sound for sound’s sake and the serendipity surrounding those moments.

Wiltshire, home to the Stonehenge stone circles and a county of empty plains in the southwest of England, is worlds away from the commerce and industry of Glenn Branca’s New York City or Neu’s Düsseldorf. While The Same may feel in some ways like a British blend of these minimalist and motorik machinations, Cox and Thomas were curiously fascinated with The Grateful Dead and Frank Zappa’s brand of psychedelic music.

Cox’s own definition of British psychedelia is “folk music meeting technology and going bonkers.” It’s by this definition that Sync or Swim takes unexpected forms, from tape-speed tomfoolery, concrète sound collage and analog delayed marimbas, to the colorful spectrum of interwoven guitar play between Cox and Thomas reminiscent of Ghanaian Highlife but more accurately indebted to Jerry Garcia.