Cerca:miller a moment in time

Ltd edition!

to rococo rot?s the amateur view (1999) will be reissued as a highly limited expanded edition, featuring 12 bonus tracks on an additional disc, a new gatefold sleeve with previously unseen photos, and liner notes by Jon Dale. The Amateur View is widely hailed as one of the definitive records of late '90s analog electronica. Released in the U.S. via Mute Records, it was named one of UNCUT's Albums of the Year in 1999 and perfectly captured the introspective, experimental mood of the era. The album's influence was far-reaching-so much so that Saint Etienne enlisted To Rococo Rot for their 2000 album Sound of Water. At the time, To Rococo Rot were the band of the moment-jetting across the globe to play the most cutting-edge electronica festivals, including wild WARP events where none other than Aphex Twin spun support DJ sets, The trio was invited three times by John Peel to record radio sessions in the BBC studios between 1997 and 1999. Bands like Modeselektor still cite them as key influences and pioneers. Stephen McRobbie of The Pastels, Mark Fell (SND), and Kieran Hebden (aka Four Tet) are all big fans-Kieran even remixed a track from their debut album so did Mira Calyx and Daniel Miller of Mute, a longtime supporter, and yes Björk is a fan too.

2024 Repress

For Frenzy's 5th installment, we'll take the fusion of the past and the present even further. We present you a 6-track EP by Swedish DJ and producer 'The Miller', who was amongst the Nordic wave of early 2000s techno pioneers like Cari Lekebusch, Adam Beyer, and Joel Mull. Coming from an era where rave and nightlife escapism were blooming, The Miller possesses a vast backlog of old-school productions that embody the true Frenzy sound. We invited him to compile an EP with old and new material, accompanied by remixes from the up-and-coming generation to truly intertwine generations of dancefloor exquisiteness. Allow yourself to surpass the linear alignment of time within the next collision of decades on Frenzy 005. It's time to dance.

Starting out slow but steady on the A side, 'Kartong' gradually builds up the pressure with a playful mix of reversed phrases and thoughtful alignment of pitch levels. Tension transforms into motion as 'Apex' kicks in with big airy basslines and exotic drum elements that keep the early-day spirit alive. To complete the A-side, Stuttgart-based Rove Ranger presents a dub-influenced remix of Apex, accelerating the 00s story straight into the next decade. On the flip side, we go back to the old days as 'Complied' grabs hold of hips and minds with catchy repetition and a straightforward bassline. The Miller got us spellbound as 'Gate' follows up with a stripped-down steamy groover. To end the journey in full force, a powerful remix of Gate by the Greek-based ANNE is delivered, converting stripped down into the contrary for those big-room dancefloor moments.

Chris Liebing's first full solo techno LP, 'Evolver' is released on 27th March 2026, via his own CLR imprint. The German techno don's LP features a host of collaborators across music, images, and artwork. Luke Slater, Charlotte De Witte, Speedy J, The Advent, Terence Fixmer, Pascal Gabriel, Daniel Miller contribute to the music, while long-time collaborators Studio Bergfors deliver design, and legendary photographer Anton Corbijn shot Liebing for the project.

The Evolver LP is the sum total of Chris Liebing's three decades at the beating heart of techno. It's the record only someone whose first break as a techno DJ was playing five hours at Sven Väth's infamous Omen in Frankfurt - and who has ridden out every twist and turn of life and subcultures since, while remaining rooted in the true school, dark, sweaty techno sweat pits of the world - could have made. It's the result of deep introspection, but it's about utter immediacy. It's the sound of someone previously driven along by compulsion and happenstance at last finding the confidence to be utterly intentional about their practice, allowing them to take the most classic, familiar, proven elements from the past and render them completely new.

Evolver is also Liebing's first completely solo album. There are collaborations, yes: with old friends from the OG techno generation, Luke Slater, Speedy J, and The Advent, all on uncompromising form, and with new generation figurehead Charlotte De Witte, who provides a thrilling narration of total surrender to the moment on acid clarion call "Symphonie des Seins". But unlike all Liebing's albums to date, there's no co-pilot. Every structure, every mixdown, every choice serves his singular vision of how his untold immersion in the surging currents of the world's greatest clubs should sound. The elements are all those forged in the white heat of Omen and Tresor in the mid 90s - brutal repetition, titanium kick drums, industrial atmospherics, but also dark rave euphoria, ever present surging acid lines just on the cusp of trance, and just enough human voices to remind you of bodies on the dance floor - but rendered with all the extraordinary accumulated skill and technological developments since then.

It's Chris's vision entirely, his musings on sound, technology, and life birthing tracks like "Roy Batty." Inspired by thoughts of AI becoming sentient and hungering for more life like Rutger Hauer's titular Blade Runner character, it was one of the first tracks to emerge and a foundation stone for the album. And in pursuit of that vision, it's built like a "proper album". The anticipation and menace of intro "Unfold" tip over into the glowing hot high drama psychedelia of "Symphonie…" then the breathless headlong rush of The Advent collab and on through an unfolding narrative that goes deep, goes dark, opens out into grand vistas, takes strange turns before finally landing on the alien landscape of… well… "Endtrack".

Not everything is pummelling on Evolver - the dazzling title track feels like you've been welcomed into the courtly dance of a higher dimension civilisation, and the audacious Speedy J collab "Shaping Frequencies" is a beatless flow that tests the boundaries between signal and noise. But for all its complexity, conceptualism, and stylistic branching out, every last part unmistakably powered by that dark techno-cavern energy above all else. All of it positively radiates the qualities of Liebing's greatest work and sets to date - but somehow even more so than before. Whether you're listening for aesthetic inspiration, cerebral stimulation or just that raw physical power, this album will sweep you up into its momentum and won't let go of you until it's done.

END[GER] Die Band Wednesday aus Asheville, North Carolina errichtet im Laufe der zehn Songs von "Rat Saw God" einen Schrein voller aufregender Details: Halb lustige, halb tragische Botschaften aus den Südstaaten, die sich klanglich irgendwo zwischen dem wimmernden Skuzz von Neunzigerjahre-Shoegaze und klassischem Country-Twang entfalten - mit verzerrter Pedal Steel und Frontfrau Karly Hartzman, die mit ihrer Stimme, den Lärm durchschneidet. Ein Song von Wednesday ist wie ein Quilt. Eine Kurzgeschichtensammlung, eine verschwommene Erinnerung, ein Flickenteppich aus Porträts des amerikanischen Südens, der disparate Momente einfängt und als Ganzes doch irgendwie einen Sinn ergibt. Karly Hartzman, die Songschreiberin, Sängerin, Gitarristin und Leiterin der Band, ist eine Geschichtensammlerin als auch eine Geschichtenerzählerin: Eine aufmerksame Beobachterin von Menschen und witzigen Bemerkungen. "Rat Saw God", das neue und beste Album des Quintetts aus Asheville, ist ekphrastisch, aber ebenso autobiografisch und vor allem sehr einfühlsam. Es wurde in den Monaten unmittelbar nach der Fertigstellung von dem zweiten Album der Band, "Twin Plagues", geschrieben und innerhalb einer Woche im Drop Of Sun Studio in Asheville aufgenommen. Die Songs auf "Rat Saw God" erzählen keine Epen, sondern das Alltägliche. Sie sind lebensnah, erzählen vom wahren Leben, sie sind verschwommen und chaotisch und seltsam zugleich - was Hartzmans eigenem Ethos entspricht: "Everyone's story is worthy. Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

A photo in Rodney Stepp’s scrapbook sums this period in his life in music. It’s 1974, The Spinners were headliners at the “Zaire 74” music festival, a sideshow to Muhammad Ali’s fabled “Rumble in the Jungle” fight with George Foreman. Among the faded snapshots, there’s a picture of Stepp backstage posing arm in arm with Ali; another image shows The Greatest seated at Stepp’s Fender Rhodes alongside vocalist Etta James. It was all a dream for this Naptown wunderkind, who had previously recorded for Herb Miller’s LAMP Records as the Diplomatics and had issued the sweet soul killer “Young Girl” as Jazzie Cazzie and the Eight Sounds on a rare Knaptown 45. (These recordings have been documented on the Now-Again LAMP anthology and our Loving On The Flipside compilation.) But as exciting as his rise out of those local status was, as exciting as it was to headline festivals and arenas and appear on late night talk shows, Stepp grew restless with the mechanical routine of being a sideman. He grew tired of playing the same charts night after night. He was hungry for a creative outlet that mimicked his earliest days in recorded music. So, in 1978, Stepp left The Spinners and returned to Indianapolis, where he established an all-stargroup of musicians–including members of Jazzie Cazzie and the fabled Amnesty–and he named the band Rapture. They inspired countless others. They recorded an album’s worth of material. Now-Again’s Egon first got tapes from Stepp in 2002 and dutifully transferred them, but the time was not right for a foray into this wealth of material. Come 2025, and this is the first time it Rapture’s music is seeing the light of day, a triumphant, late career moment for Stepp and a cause for celebration of those intrigued by deep, sweet soul and disco funk

Celebrating a decade of hip-hop excellence with the 10th Anniversary Vinyl Reissue of Statik Selektah's groundbreaking album, Extended Play. Pressed onto high-quality vinyl and housed in a silver laminated jacket, this limited edition reissue pays homage to the timeless collaboration between the legendary producer and some of the finest wordsmiths in the game.

Extended Play showcases the essence of authentic hip-hop, seamlessly blending old-school vibes with innovative production. Featuring an all-star lineup of rap luminaries, including Action Bronson, Mac Miller, Joey Bada$$, Sean Price, Raekwon, Black Thought, Prodigy, Evidence, Termanology, Posdnous of De La Soul and Talib Kweli amongs several others, this album is a masterclass in lyrical prowess and beatsmithing finesse.

Immerse yourself in the artistry of Statik Selektah as he crafts intricate beats that serve as the canvas for the lyrical dexterity of hip-hop's finest. Each track is a testament to the genre's evolution, capturing the essence of both its roots and its future. From the gritty realism of Sean Price's verses to the introspective musings of Mac Miller, every moment on this album is a revelation.

This commemorative vinyl reissue not only offers listeners a chance to experience the album in its purest form but also provides a glimpse into the collaborative spirit that defines hip-hop culture. The album cover artwork has been meticulously restored and printed onto a silver laminated jacket. Join us in celebrating the legacy of Extended Play and the everlasting impact of Statik Selektah's musical vision!

2024 BLACK VINYL REPRESS.
One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can’t be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music.

There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago – we live in an age that’s been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn’t get sexy with their “Lady Marmalade” for another year while Millie Jackson wasn’t “Feelin’ Bitchy” until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty’s fierce style wasn’t completely out of Ike’s shadow until later in the decade.

Ms. Davis’s unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song “Uptown” for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late ‘60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix — personally inspiring the classic album ’Bitches Brew.’

But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty’s career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn’t fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal.

In 1973, Davis would finally kick off her cosmic career with an amazingly progressive hard funk and sweet soul self-titled debut. Davis showcased her fiercely unique talent and features such gems as “If I’m In Luck I Might Get Picked Up” and “Game Is My Middle Name.” The album Betty Davis was recorded with Sly & The Family Stone’s rhythm section, sharply produced by Sly Stone drummer Greg Errico, and featured backing vocals from Sylvester and the Pointer Sisters.

When Transform-I was released in 2009, Bristol’s Dubkasm were unmistakably prominent on the reggae scene but it is this LP - their tenth release - that put them on the map and cemented their status as outernational roots innovators and one of the most creative outfits in reggae. By 2006, Jah Shaka had been rinsing their percussive vocoder smash ‘Zulu Dawn’ (track 15) at the end of every dance for close to three years. Dubplates from the LP became firm favourites on some of the greatest soundsystems in the world, including Aba Shanti-I, Iration Steppas, and Channel One.
DJ Stryda and producer Digistep’s reputation grew still further when the pair managed to get an extremely rare vocal from the legendary Dub Judah, who at the time had not voiced a tune for many years. The resulting 7”, ‘From the Foundation’ (track 2) was the first tune to be released from Transform-I, an album which took the music world by storm with its singular blend of a deep, conscious roots reggae sound with instrumentation that drew on Digistep’s Brazilian heritage.

As the great DJ and journalist Steve Barker said in his rave Wire magazine review of the initial release, ‘Like many innovations heard for the first time, you wonder why this has not been done before’. Indeed, the LP’s blend of percussion instruments like zabumba, cavaquinho, and cuica with an absolutely stellar cast of vocalists including Tenastelin, Christine Miller, and Ras B, with a pre-Reggae Reggae Sauce fame Levi Roots recording from his living room, became timeless the moment it was released. Barker praised the album for being ‘more orthodox than expected’, by which I think he meant that the album is a completely authentic roots record, rather than an attempt to mix musical flavours to conceal a lack of ideas. Instead, ideas flew back and forth across the Atlantic, as basic tracks were laid in the Dubkasm Studio (then in Brazil, now in England) and overdubs and vocals were recorded in London, Nottingham, Bristol and Norway, with the final mixes being done at the Daddy Roots studio in Bristol. The combination is seamless both because Digistep grew up with Brazilian music, courtesy of his father, and because Dubkasm have lived and breathed reggae since their formation in 1994 – just go and listen to early releases like ‘Chemical Reaction Dub’ (1996) or ‘Hornsman Trod’ (2003) and you’ll hear heavyweight productions with a Rasta ethos immersed in U.K. soundsystem culture.

Since the album’s release, Dubkasm have gone from strength to strength and collaborated with a dazzling array of artists. Transform-I was remixed by some of Bristol’s best electronica producers in 2010, and 2013’s 12” ‘Victory’ became a huge soundsystem hit around the world, before being voiced by two of the greatest singers of all time, Luciano and Turbulence, and being remixed the following year by one of the world’s finest dubstep producers, Mala (who in 2016 released his own project fusing Latin music with electronic bass – the excellent Mala in Cuba).
The first project of its kind, beautifully reissued in its original format by Dubquake (the outfit behind France’s incredible OBF Soundsystem), Transform-I is the LP that launched Dubkasm on their current trajectory and has truly lived up to its name.

Circles is the sixth and final studio album by Mac Miller. Conceived as a sister album to 2018's full length Swimming, the album was completed with the assistance of Jon Brion, with whom Miller worked on Swimming and had been working together on Circles at the time of his passing. While sonically distinctly different than its predecessor, Circles features many of the hallmarks for which Swimming was critically-acclaimed upon its release -- Miller further realizing his singing voice in addition to rapping, live instrumentation and earnest, confessional lyrical content. Listeners will hear shades of some of the album's influences in its songs, from the T-Rex guitar tone of "Surf" to the Plastic Ono Band-era John Lennon feel of its production and the inspired cover of Arthur Lee's 1972 single "Everybody's Gotta Live." It's a momentous final entry into the discography of an artist that remains at the centre of reimagining the limits of rap.

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Red Vinyl

ASSASSINS did what many bands do: they grabbed a moment out of the air and slammed it onto tape machines and hard drives with relentlessness, cunning, and an attitude.
It was in Chicago, mid 2000’s, and though there was energy in the music scene, it wasn’t coalescing into anything you could use as a heading in the musical encyclopedia. Drag City, Thrill Jockey, Bloodshot, Tortoise, Andrew Bird, 90 Day Men – amazing labels and bands, but discrete and siloed and separated by boundaries that weren’t very real.
In the midst of that complicated morass, ASSASSINS generated a collection of songs that became the album YOU WILL CHANGED US. And it did.
There was confidence built into the fabric of the project: 5 members, 2 singers, massive synced video walls and samples streaming from laptops swirling in three dimensions around the stage. They could go from subtle atmospheric moments to a gargantuan wall of sound instantly. It was hard to do- months in cold practice rooms troubleshooting sections of songs or reworking synthesizer patches put the band through a self-imposed boot camp. And it brought them together as a sort of hive-mind focused on one thing: that these songs could connect. They could cut through the noise and share a state of mind with other human beings.
And it worked. Those early shows were mind bending. It was fun, loud, drunken, and rewarding- that time together, before the record deal, before the tragic let down of being traded and gobbled up by the major label system. The years after that got more difficult, more complicated, more human.
Leading us here: the musical journey of the Assassins has ended. With the up-coming release of their second and final album THE YEAR THAT NEVER CAME, we finally get to hear, and feel, the final statements of their inspiring chemistry.
In July of 2021, founding member, songwriter and singer Joe Cassidy unexpectedly passed away. THE YEAR THAT NEVER CAME is the culmination and end point of a collaboration that started in the early 2000’s with a chance meeting and excited conversation with Aaron Miller at a gig in Chicago. Quickly joined by David Golitko on keyboards, Merritt Lear on vocals and guitar, and Alex Kemp on bass.
It was Miller who saw Joe Cassidy’s song writing in a new context. Cassidy had been known for his beautiful, post- pop inflected BUTTERFLY CHILD, a thoughtful, regal project where Joe’s emotions could soar. Miller saw a different context for that voice- not dreamy, but immediate, not just hopeful, but demanding. He took Joe’s open hand and suggested that it could be a fist, raised in the air, with a crowd of other people doing the same.
At the time of his death legendary composer and songwriter Jimmy Webb (who wrote such hits as ‘Wichita Lineman and MacArthur Park) said Joe ‘was a creative and generous producer but, more importantly, he was a creative and generous friend.’
With the release of THE YEAR THAT NEVER CAME, this band, this relentless creative force, has to finally relent. No one in the band could see a future ASSASSINS that doesn’t include Cassidy. So in one last act of will, for the love of their friend, they did the rigorous work of finishing the songs that they had started together for the second album.
Assassin’s obsession with the notion of time, from YOU WILL CHANGED US to THE YEAR THAT NEVER CAME, flows from the most natural question we all have to ask ourselves: what do I do now? Because: how we react today to life’s unpredictability - that is the tomorrow we build for ourselves.

Originally released in May 2006 through the German label Karaoke Kalk, »Osaka Bridge« was an album that captured the joyful amateurism of Tori Kudo's free-spirited Japanese collective Maher Shalal Hash Baz and Bill Wells’ rich, wistful and easy sense of melody. Approaching brass band and jazz music with a knack for making playing imperfectly feel perfectly right, »Osaka Bridge« became nothing short of groundbreaking when it was released to critical acclaim, becoming an instant classic among musicians and fans alike. Coinciding with the release of the second LP of Wells’ on-going collaboration with Danielle Price on tuba, »The Sensory Illusions«, Karaoke Kalk makes this highly sought-after record available again on vinyl for the first time in 16 years.

The pairing of the prolific Scottish pianist and composer and the fluctuating collective active since the mid-1980s was an easy, natural one—a union particularly apt and complementary. But this is not to say that the 15 recordings which made up »Osaka Bridge« were in any way seamless. The horns played by these self-taught musicians strain and struggle with Wells’ luscious arrangements; each note is given all the stiff emphasis that you’d expect of a high school brass band at its first rehearsal. Songs fall in and out of rhythm, and a track like »Poxy« misses its intended swing feel by a country mile. Of course, this is all part of the magic. Maher Shalal Hash Baz take Wells’ melodies and strip them back to their emotional core, disallowing all artifice and revealing a stark, serene beauty.

Particularly affecting are »On The Beach Boys Bus«—described by colleague Jens Lekman as the »the most beautiful melody I’ve ever heard«—and »Time Takes Me So Back«, the two tracks sung by Kudo’s wife Reiko. Inspiration for both pieces came to Wells in dreams. The former was sung by a group of tanned Californians on the way to a Beach Boys convention, the latter by his grandmother shortly before she passed away. Reiko’s voice gives each song a haunting fragility that enhances their phantasmagoric character. »Cowtail Calypso«, on the other hand, was born when Wells asked Tori Kudo to sing Roger Miller’s »King Of The Road« over a syncopated, propulsive melody. Kudo’s ambiguous response (»maybe,« which according to Wells usually translated to »forget it«) resulted in a brief, idiosyncratic track that nevertheless exceeded all of Wells’ expectations.

Of the instrumental tracks, »Liquorice Tics« stands out for its rolling rhythms and circular melody, while »Family Sighs« creates a brooding atmosphere which perfectly encapsulates the conflicting feelings many people have for their immediate family. For the most part, the instrumentals are concise—a melody stated once and then dispensed with—but their brevity only heightens the impact. Even (or especially) 16 years later, »Osaka Bridge« continues to be an almost accidentally timeless document that captured fleeting moments and personal revelations at their most spontaneous and unaffected. As someone put it so aptly in a Discogs comment a few years back, »this is the album which is able to make aliens understand what humankind is about.« You better turn up the volume so that everyone can hear it everywhere.

Jazzrausch Bigband has more or less invented a new art form,
techno jazz, and has become well-known for performances of it. But
the band also has another, different story to tell. It has invented its
own tradition of hitting the road and touring at the end of each year
with a programme consisting of Christmas music, and has been doing
this ever since the band first emerged eight years ago. Bandleader
and founder Roman Sladek explains: “Whereas our regular projects -
the most recent album, ‘Emergenz’, is a good example - are all about
working through a specific theme and finding new ways to reinvent
ourselves, our Christmas thing is something we do for one reason
alone: to have fun. It was our very first programme, we still love it, and
we’re still nurturing, developing and growing it. Being able to devote
one month a year entirely to the big band tradition is something we’re
all really passionate about.”
Some bands might have been tempted just to throw together an
album of Christmas chestnuts any old how, but the Jazzrausch way of
doing things is not like that at all. Unlike any other album by the band,
for the first time we hear purely instrumental music. Furthermore,
Kuhn has taken ten classic Christmas songs - each one of them
rarely heard in jazz, and tunes which can often come across as a bit
staid in their original settings - from ‘Tochter Zion, freue dich# to
‘Adeste fideles’ or ‘Ihr Kinderlein, kommet’. The title track, ‘Alle Jahre
wieder!’ (based on the 1830s carol to music by Silcher which is very
familiar to children and adults in the German-speaking world) appears
here in completely new orchestral garb.
Sometimes the listener will recognise the kind of swing typical of
Glenn Miller. At other moments it is the incomparable big band
elegance of, say, Artie Shaw. ‘Es wird scho glei dumpa’ (an Austrian
carol) is given the full extra high pressure Tijuana brass treatment.
‘Maria durch ein’ Dornwald ging’ gets the touch of the Thad Jones /
Mel Lewis Orchestra after a Henry Mancini-like intro, and ‘Ich steh’ an
deiner Krippe hier’ recalls more of the great swing heritage.
Once again Jazzrausch Bigband has succeeded in a way that only
very few in the jazz field can, notwithstanding the openness of the
genre: they have brought young and old together, tradition and
revolution, the familiar and the new. Which is why it feels so
completely natural and right that they should continue to do this
‘again every year’, as the album title tells them: ‘Alle Jahre wieder’.

Deron Miller gives his life to the riff. Unrestrained by industry expectations and genre limitations, the boundlessly prolific guitarist and voice behind multiple beloved projects is best known as the founder, frontman, and songwriter in CKY. His authentic and effortlessly hooky heavy rock obsession returns with 96 BITTER BEINGS. Reinvigorated and ready to rumble all over again, Miller roars back with the same reverence for riffage that made underground hits out of CKY anthems like “Flesh Into Gear,” “Escape from Hellview,” and “Disengage the Simulator” from 1998 till 2011.

The familiar warmth, feel, groove, and unapologetic honesty which drove the song “96 Quite Bitter Beings” to 54 million streams (on Spotify alone) permeates the pair of albums unleashed by 96BB.

A successful crowdfunding campaign saw Miller, guitarist Kenneth Hunter, bassist Shaun Luera and Shaun’s brother, drummer Tim, conjure up 2018’s Camp Pain in limited release. North American and European touring followed, wrapping up shortly before the COVID-19 shutdowns.

“After CKY and a short break, I decided to continue, without changing the sound,” Miller explains. “Because that’s what I do. It’s what I love to do and what people say I do well. All of the guys who got in the band with me are great musicians. And each of them is hungry. They have priorities and ambitions about being in a rock band, no matter the grim state of pop music out there. If we can bring rock and metal back to the mainstream, in some way, that’s the dream.”

In 2022, 96 BITTER BEINGS unleash the long-awaited Synergy Restored, 11 songs of relentless power and vibe. Four-on-the-floor, fuzzy and visceral, proper rock n’ roll made by an actual band, rather than a bunch of overprocessed samples and otherwise stale shenanigans. Songs like “Vaudeville’s Revenge,” “90 Car Pile-Up,” and “Wish Me Dead” offer vivid reminders of the truth-telling prowess of guitars, bass, and drums. Miller is on fire, weaponizing the same knack for memorable musical epiphanies behind projects like Foreign Objects, World Under Blood, and CKY.
Miller co-founded Foreign Objects and later Camp Kill Yourself (a name born of his love of VHS slasher classics) in West Chester, Pennsylvania, in the ‘90s. Written by Miller, 1999’s Volume 1 appealed to metalheads, skaters, stoners, and punks. The album led to a stint on Warped Tour and a deal with Island Def Jam Music Group, which issued Infiltrate•Destroy•Rebuild• in 2002. Axl Rose chose CKY to support the ill-fated Chinese Democracy tour, and they also played with Metallica.
An Answer Can Be Found followed in 2005, producing the Billboard Mainstream Rock Top 40 single “Familiar Realm.” Extensive touring with Avenged Sevenfold and the like-minded Clutch followed. Carver City, in 2009, would prove to be Miller’s last album with the group he created and led. Across the four albums, Miller indulged his love of everything from ‘80s thrash metal to doom, as CKY blended high-octane ruckus with occasional bursts of Moog synths and cinematic storytelling.
Miller never stopped creating, with a handful of full albums written and released, a foray into horror movies, and parenting three children with his wife, scream queen actress Felissa Rose. Like Galactic Prey, the most recent Foreign Objects album, the 96BB records were recorded and produced by Miller and Hunter at Manifest Productions. Camp Pain was explicitly made for diehard fans who supported the creation of both albums through 96BB’s Indiegogo campaign. Synergy Restored was always intended for wider release, which it sees now via Nuclear Blast.
“I want my work taken seriously. I thank God every day that I was never overexposed, or even exposed enough commercially, to where I’m resigned to a specific moment,” Miller says. “I would rather have my self-respect, the respect of the audience, and a dedicated cult following.”

“Every time I go out, I see Nirvana, Metallica, and Misfits t-shirts. These kids may not know the music, but at least they are displaying a visual interest,” he adds. “Corporations spend millions of dollars promoting certain styles of music, but history proves that true rock will always sneak in.”

Old-School-Hip-Hop how it has to be! Creamy soul samples and sing-along choruses. With this release we celebrate 2 things: our (Lonestar’s) 20th anniversary (yes, we’re old!) and the 10th anniversary of this excellent album. It was originally released only in a small edition on vinyl done by the band. Now it gets a proper re-release with an exclusive-coloured version. But it’s limited to only 300 copies. So be fast or regret it later! "Party people hold onto your hats!" Ugly Duckling presents their fifth full-length album Moving at Breakneck Speed. After more than a decade in the music business, Young Einstein, Andy Cooper and Dizzy Dustin are well accustomed to the recording process. For their latest LP, the boys dug deep into their bag of tricks to create what they feel is their most dynamic and complete release to date. Moving at Breakneck Speed is an exciting and musically exotic adventure story that has our desperate heroes circling the globe to outrun an evil gang of super-criminals determined to put an end to UD once and for all. The record is made up of 14 power packed tracks that showcase Ugly Duckling’s classic production sound as well as the flavourful and humorously soulful vocal styles of Dizzy and Andy. “By the time you work on your fifth record, you ought to know how to do it, right?” asks Andy, “I think we put all of the pieces together to make a really, really good album”. We've made a habit of finding talented artists to create our artwork and this album is certainly no exception. This time around we enlisted the help of Justin Ridge. A native of smoggy Southern California, Justin has enjoyed making silly drawings and directing on animated shows like Avatar: The Last Airbender, Star Wars: Clone Wars, The Cleveland Show, and most recently Black Dynamite: The Animated Series. You can see more of his stuff on his website at justinridgeart. It has been a pleasure working with Justin on this venture and look forward to seeing what the future has in store for this very gifted animator. Also contributing his talents to this album is photographer Noel J. Hadley. We have Noel to thank for the awesome photos that you see displayed throughout the site. Noel's specialty is actually wedding photos, but he was kind enough to join us on a fun-filled afternoon in Los Angeles to capture the theme images for the new album. He was also along for the ride during the filming of the Elevation video, set to be released later this year. You can check out photos from the video shoot on Noel's blog. In addition, there are a number of people who donated their time and effort to help bring this album to life. Comedian TJ Miller can be seen in the Elevation video, a combination live-action/cartoon which will be animated by Justin Ridge. We would also like to thank Andy Carpenter, Jon St. James, Josh Barlow, Josh Fischel, Victor, Dago, Tamika, Tiko, Hiroko, Missy, Brian, Ashley-Dominique, Clout, and the entire Tru Beatz Crew for their contributions. You are all valued members of the UD family. Track listing: Keep Movin’; Momentum; $100 Weekend; Elevation; I Wonder Where She Is Now; One Horse Town; Anything Can Happen (In The Big City); How It Used To Be; Einstein Got A Monkey; Run For The Light; Sprint!; The Homecoming; The Breakneck Theme; Endless Summer

Created on the western edges of the infinite plains and prairies of coldest Canada, Edmonton, Alberta's HOME FRONT dance freely and madly along the edges of time and create their own moment amongst the revered and long frozen reserves of THE CURE, SUICIDE, ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN, "Second Empire Justice" era BLITZ, and NEW ORDER. A record bubbling over with analog synth, guitar loops, slammed 808 drums, and anthemic vocal pushes tugging at the great moment in-between the “death” of punk and the “birth” of new wave, pulling fresh sounds into their punk roots and shoving a studded leather jacket around a silk robe. Justice, violence, doubt and uncertainty a la Gary Numan narrating a Warren Miller Extreme Ski Special on the set of TO LIVE AND DIE IN LA: this is HOME FRONT. Recorded by HOME FRONT in an unheated plywood box in some semblance of fading daylight. Produced and mixed in the darkest depths of lockdown by Jonah Falco on a boat moored outside an isolated estate along the A40 in between sets of "The Evil Russian Pushup Challenge" and icy walks to Lidl

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”