Buscar:new kids on the block

Still Kids is New Kids On The Block's first full-length studio album in 11 years. On the all new album, members Jonathan Knight, Jordan Knight, Joey McIntyre, Donnie Wahlberg and Danny Wood channel the New Kids’ beginnings, even as it pushes them into new territory as songwriters and as a band. The album features 14 new tracks including the lead single, “Kids," and is full of pop anthems, dance tracks, love songs, and grooves that will become fast favorites for the Blockheads.

After several years of existence Rite Of Passage have naturally progressed into the launch of their vinyl label. Based between Rotterdam & Slovenia the label called on four intriguing characters to assist with the soundtrack of RoP01, "I Want To Shower With Your Emotions". A nod to the Dutch underground as the VA features DJ Tjizza, new kids on the block Young Adults, Nathan Homan and the sought after Eversines.

One of the key 45s in the output of Prince Jazzbo's Ujama label during the digital era of the late 80s - originally reissued via NYC's Deadly Dragon some 15 or so years back - gets a much needed new cut & press via Death Is Not The End's 333 series.

The late Earlando Neil aka Early B first started performing on soundsystems in the late 1970s, often appearing with his young apprentice Wild Apache, later known as Super Cat. It was alongside Cat that he is credited as a key driver behind the popularisation of the King Majesty and Killamanjaro stables in the early 1980s, following which he had a string of hit records for the likes of Harry J's Sunset imprint, Ossie Thomas' Black Solidarity and Jah Thomas' Midnight Rock label amongst many others.

Following a run of stellar LPs in the mid 1980s Early B's output began to wane as the sound of digital production began to take precedence, but not without firing off one the most killer shots ever recorded on a computerized rhythm for Jazzbo's Ujama in 1987. Reportedly the first time around for the hallowed Replay version, Imitator's subject matter takes aim at the new kids on the dancehall block ripping off the veterans, while he simultaneously pays hard-earned dues to the dancehall's foundation deejays such as Jazzbo himself, U-Roy, Big Youth, Dennis Alcapone, King Stitch, Trinity & Dillinger.

Repress

The Undefined Tales saga continues. This time with seekers bossman Alex Picone; the man who doesn't need an introduction with his impressive trackrecord, a true legend in the scene. On the other hand we've got from Paris residing Charonne boys; these new kids on the block are quickly making name for themselves with releases on Partisan, Imprints & LMML. And last but not least Cobert; a diamond in the rough, with quality releases on amazing stories.

In 1999, on December 23 to be precise, the electronic music landscape changed forever. On that day, the now legendary Icelandic band múm released their debut album “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”. The thing is though, back in the day, hardly anybody realized. It was Christmas after all, people were busy with potentially more important things and didn’t pay attention to some kids selling records on Reykjavík’s high street. Little did those shoppers know.

Thankfully, those 10 tracks weren’t overlooked for long. On the contrary: the album went on to become one of the most influential building blocks of what back then was called electronica and today is considered an art form playing a crucial and important role in shaping and defining the rich electronic music culture of the 21st century. Now, 20 years after the record dropped onto planet Earth, Morr Music is re-issuing the remastered album with its original artwork, adding newly commissioned re-works: A note-for-note representation of “Smell Memory“ by Kronos Quartet (with additional drums by múm’s Samuli Kosminen), a gentle reinterpretation of “Random Summer” by acclaimed pianist and composer Hauschka and an otherworldly new version of “Ballad Of The Broken String” recorded by label mate Sóley. Additionally, four remixes produced in the early 2000s are made available for the first time ever on vinyl here.

In 1999, electronic music was in full bloom. The dance floors were thriving worldwide.Yet the concept of using electronic sounds in acoustic-based productions (or vice versa) was still in its infancy. Many producers were trying, most of them failed. The results felt often forced, fabricated, unimaginative, random and forgettable. New ideas require new mindsets after all. With “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”, múm established a new approach in music production. Instead of setting a fixed agenda and working with a distinct hierarchy for their sonic palette, Gyða Valtýsdóttir, Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir, Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar Smárason let each instrument and sound source be true to itself, creating an ever-evolving universe of sonic bliss. Listening to the album in 2019 still makes every music lover’s heart jump. Combining Drill-and-Bass-inspired beat-chopping, future-informed DSP-programming, ethereal vocal work, indie rock’s boominess, folk music’s soulful brittleness and a lofty feeling for melody and arrangement, the album is a rare example of musical transcendence and remains impossible to categorize.

Many of the ideas formulated and recorded for the album quickly became an integral part of the canonical self-conception musicians around the world were and still are aspiring to. How these ideas really came about, though, is not known – the dynamics, the struggles, the qualms, the sudden realization of having achieved something which might actually stick. Maybe that is a good thing. Örvar Smárason remembers that most of the album “was recorded in a tiny, sweaty room in the summer of 1999 with carpenters banging nails around us, but sometimes we put on headphones so we couldn’t hear them.” It is a good thing they did. As is often the case with classics, all one can do is listen closely and let the magic sink in – again and again.

As a label, we are specialists in musical diversity. With our newest installment of the annual System 108 compilation we present you two parts of hand picked creative output by our friends, residents and dearest guests. Curated by the artist Ira Bespalova, the concept of both parts is simple and deep: the good, the calm, the kind is part 1 and all anti-heroes, filthy electro-armored jams is part 2. All together - another twist of the planet, another beat of our big heart, that became shelter and home home for a whole new tribe. It pumps, it creates, unites and warms up, kicks it real hard, no matter how tough it is. Part 1 is densely populated by our new kids on the block! Isktrit, TURBOSH, BORIS REDWALL, DJ Yesyes, Dominique Mara have been releasing singles, EP's and album during 2023 and became an integral part of the collective. Here you will also find good old friends Maksimovna, Lipelis, Kito Jempere. Very special Siberian inspired trippy workout by RLGN and Sasha Kustov, Luchshiy Drug. And a super special guest appearance starring Magnus Opus and mo?se?. The running order is curated as a narrative, as an album that takes you on a journey. But separately, it all works as singles, DJ tracks and tools. Welcome to Nine Years Of Love!

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

As a label, we are specialists in musical diversity. With our newest installment of the annual System 108 compilation we present you two parts of hand picked creative output by our friends, residents and dearest guests. Curated by the artist Ira Bespalova, the concept of both parts is simple and deep: the good, the calm, the kind is part 1 and all anti-heroes, filthy electro-armored jams is part 2. All together - another twist of the planet, another beat of our big heart, that became shelter and home home for a whole new tribe. It pumps, it creates, unites and warms up, kicks it real hard, no matter how tough it is. Part 1 is densely populated by our new kids on the block! Isktrit, TURBOSH, BORIS REDWALL, DJ Yesyes, Dominique Mara have been releasing singles, EP's and album during 2023 and became an integral part of the collective. Here you will also find good old friends Maksimovna, Lipelis, Kito Jempere. Very special Siberian inspired trippy workout by RLGN and Sasha Kustov, Luchshiy Drug. And a super special guest appearance starring Magnus Opus and mo?se?. The running order is curated as a narrative, as an album that takes you on a journey. But separately, it all works as singles, DJ tracks and tools. Welcome to Nine Years Of Love!

Limited pink vinyl. Through the album trilogy Misanthropical House, Algorithm and Blues and Research and Destroy, The Good The Bad and The Zugly have limped their way through midlife crises and pubescent antics. Loud-mouthed and bitter, we have embraced our fate as mediocre losers on the narrow and winding Scandirock path. Haunted by a constant bad conscience over the outcome of our miserable lives, which in addition to bitterness, have resulted in substance abuse, pettiness, greed, spiritual lethargy, bastard offspring, excessive self-confidence, understated self-awareness, and of course - bodily decay. In breif; A urinal without a drain. The question has always been nagging: Why us? Why have we, since the dawn of time, been made to curse the day we were born? Well, the truth shall set you free, as they say.

Through the album trilogy Misanthropical House, Algorithm and Blues and Research and Destroy, The Good The Bad and The Zugly have limped their way through midlife crises and pubescent antics. Loud-mouthed and bitter, we have embraced our fate as mediocre losers on the narrow and winding Scandirock path. Haunted by a constant bad conscience over the outcome of our miserable lives, which in addition to bitterness, have resulted in substance abuse, pettiness, greed, spiritual lethargy, bastard offspring, excessive self-confidence, understated self-awareness, and of course - bodily decay. In breif; A urinal without a drain. The question has always been nagging: Why us? Why have we, since the dawn of time, been made to curse the day we were born? Well, the truth shall set you free, as they say.

Brussels is a highway where rainbow-fuelled melancholia kids race its track, mountain and road bikes. Endless summers cherish the collective chosen chaos of the city; every corner displays wild micro-natures, buzzing insects, and rare weeds fourishing organically; tape hiss and AM radio compression are the soundtrack of everyday life. And hear! Originated in the Brussels DIY, indie rock and noise scene, a new kid on the block appears: Another Dancer.

They deal in utopian music - of the open, welcoming and whatsoeverish kind. It’s fresh, snotty, neurotic art-rock deeply rooted in 80s/90s DIY aesthetics. The songs on their debut album balance gently between forgotten pop hits and broken sound experiments. In their world, any shitload of weird, random, and badly synchronized sounds unveil broken-hearted pop mastery. In the Another Dancer universe, radios are stuck to WFMU and Soulseek is a self-conscious AI producing 80ies psychedelic FM-rock.

Brussels-based Another Dancer is outdated, wild at heart and elegantly shy. Their full album I Try to Be Another Dancer is out September 10th on Bruit Direct Disques and Aguirre.

"Flashes of the shambolic post-punk of Good Sad Happy Bad and the goofy, fraternal synth-pop of the blog-era gem Teenagers can be seen, often simultaneously, across the new single from the Brussels-based band Another Dancer. Vocals are layered on top of each other to a conversational near-cacophony, like you’ve been placed at the center of a Dry Cleaning show where everyone is, improbably, in a good mood. Sunny synth sweeps jostle next to bent, jangly guitar lines for a song that finds a special kind of vibrance in its mess. — Jordan Darville”

MISSILES fire off their debut album "Weaponize Tomorrow" on Svart Records Malmö’s MISSILES are set to release their inaugural album, "Weaponize Tomorrow", on May 10, 2024, under the banner of Svart Records. The members of MISSILES are no new kids on the block. Coming from punk, rock, and metal, as well as surf and rather diverse backgrounds, they all answered to the call of their good friend Gabriel Forslund - sincerely interested in doing something new and exciting together. The band's trajectory began with a 7" single released by the Swedish label Fetish in 2016. Initially viewed as a project, MISSILES have organically evolved into a fully dedicated band with a laser-guided focus, causing shock waves in the underground with their jet-fuel genre-clash. Combining abandoned sounds with new inventions on “Weaponize Tomorrow”, MISSILES promises to both pat you on the head and stab you in the back, delivering a unique blend of post-punk with a touch of goth rock. The band’s lineup consists of: Gabriel Forslund (vocals and guitar) Jens Rasmussen (drums) Tobias Augustsson (synthesizers) Sebastian Gadd (guitar) Linus Larsson (bass) MISSILES claim their debut is a one-of-a-kind album, truly a loved bastard. ”Weaponize Tomorrow” will appeal to those who enjoyed the certain “je ne sais quoi” found in the New Wave movement, a line of thought that is liberating to hear today when artists go to the bank with a genre description. MISSILES couldn’t be bothered; it’s rock, it’s pop, its punk, it’s je ne sais quoi. Hard to pin down, but undeniable to freak out to, "Weaponize Tomorrow" is a high yield blast wave that will leave MISSILES hot on the tongues of those looking for a sudden and dramatic, incendiary kick. A gut smashing future shock that will resonate across diverse musical landscapes, “Weaponize Tomorrow” will be the perfect atomic cocktail for fans of Wipers, Dead Moon, The Birthday Party, The Gun Club and even modern iconoclasts Molchat Doma and Beastmilk. Keep your finger on the button for MISSILES‘ explosive debut out on May 10, 2024.

NOW Music is proud to present the next instalment in our ongoing ‘Yearbook’ series – and the second to celebrate the ‘90s, NOW – Yearbook 1990; 79 tracks from a fantastic year in Pop! Available on 4CD deluxe book format with 79 tracks , 4CD std digi with 79 tracks and 44 tracks from a fantastic year in Pop, pressed on gorgeous translucent triple orange vinyl. Disc One includes #1s from New Order, New Kids On The Block, Steve Miller Band, and The Beautiful South, as well as Pop smashes from The KLF, The B-52’s, Kylie Minogue, Whitney Houston Kim Appleby, and concluding with the theme from Twin Peaks, Julee Cruise’s ‘Falling’, Chris Isaak with ‘Wicked Game’ and Pet Shop Boys defining ‘Being Boring’. Dance floor-fillers kick off Disc 2 from Deee-Lite with ‘Groove Is In The Heart’, #1s from SNAP!, and from Adamski & Seal plus club classics from Bass-O-Matic and Adventures Of Stevie V with ‘Dirty Cash (Money Talks)’, plus the unexpected collaboration between DNA & Suzanne Vega. Disc 3 opens with the still-breathtaking interpretation of Prince’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ from Sinéad O'Connor. Up next are film related hits; Maria McKee’s ‘Show Me Heaven’, from the ‘Days Of Thunder’ soundtrack, and the ‘Young Guns II’ track ‘Blaze Of Glory’ from Jon Bon Jovi

Boy bands and girl groups were a huge factor in 90’s and 00’s pop culture. From the Backstreet Boys and Take That to the Spice Girls, Sugababes and many more great pop-bands, they sparked mass hysteria among their young fanbase. Being one of the first bands in the late 80’s, New Kids On The Block kicked off the hype, although in the 60’s bands like Jackson 5 and The Supremes had been around for quite some time.

The pop genre sparked a whole new breed of both boys and girl bands, with #1 hits all around, fueled by the sing-a-long lyrics, catchy videos on MTV, magazines and tours targeting a young audience around the world. Girlz ‘n Boyz Collected represents the legendary 90’s and 00’s girl- and boy bands including Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, Sugababes, Take That, Atomic Kitten, New Kids On The Block and many more acts.

The 2LP Girlz ‘n Boyz Collected is available as a limited edition on blue
(LP1) and pink (LP2) coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

History has shown that the greatest bands–bands with that certain, ever elusive quality called lasting power–neither conform to nor buck the trends of their time, but rather force the times to catch up to them. Sheer Mag has such lasting power in droves. After almost a decade spent carving out a career that has already become the stuff of modern underground legend, the band’s new stand-alone single, “All Lined Up,” comes alongside the announcement of their signing to Third Man Records–their first partnership with a larger independent label–who will also be physically and digitally re-releasing the entirety of Sheer Mag’s back-catalogue, including their cult-beloved early EPs I (2014), II (2015), and III (2016), as well as their first two breakthrough LPs, Need To Feel Your Love (2017) and A Distant Call (2019). Sheer Mag’s sensibility, as fervently beloved by baseball-tee clad garage rockers and tattoo-less indie kids as it is by leather-and-stud-loyal punks, finds its strength in an unconventional mixture of refined complexity and straight-forward pop prowess. Seamlessly trading between head-turning guitar heroics and a charmingly timeless blend of disco, hard rock, and garage inflected hooks, Sheer Mag’s oft-referenced, never-replicated sound has played an undeniably large role in stoking the current resurgence of interest power-pop forward rock music. While quickly adopted as a fan-favorite amongst the sweat-caked crowds of the early 2010’s underground, time has attested to Sheer Mag’s singular cultural mutability: though never straying too far from their home-town Philadelphian origins

Going, Going, Going, Gone: The Rare Recordings of
Connie Cunningham and the Creeps Vol. 1
When Nick Kinsey moved into his farmhouse in New York's Hudson
Valley, he dreamed that he would stumble upon a trove of unreleased
music from some eccentric artist who'd previously lived there - If anyone
would be inclined to expect that kind of treasure, it would be the prolific
Kinsey, who in addition to his own music has produced and played on
Waxhatchee's St Cloud, toured with Kevin Morby, and drummed for AC
Newman, Hand Habits, and Cold War Kids, among many others
And with all those various styles and ideas swirling around his head, that
imaginary stash of songs appealed more and more. "I needed to create a fictional
character to get into the headspace necessary to finish this group of songs,"
Kinsey says. "I was able to escape my usual writing blocks and get away from any
need to sound 'cool' by pretending I was this fictional weirdo and failed session
musician." And after rounding out his compositions with some key collaborators,
the first volume of Connie Cunningham and the Creeps fulfilled Kinsey's dream in
the form of six brilliant, retro oddball pop planets circling one oddball songwriting
star.

Originally released in 2007, None Shall Pass was the fifth studio album by Aesop Rock. It features production by Blockhead, El-P (Run The Jewels), Rob Sonic (Hail Mary Mallon), and Aesop Rock himself. Guest features include El-P (Run The Jewels), Cage, Breeze Brewin (Juggaknots), Rob Sonic (Hail Mary Mallon), and John Darnielle (The Mountain Goats). Created over a two year period following the release of his Fast Cars, Danger, Fire & Knives EP, the album would prove to be Aesop's final release on the now defunct Def Jux label. The critically acclaimed album debuted at #50 on Billboard's Top 200 chart and #35 on their Hip-Hop and R&B charts, and includes the title track "None Shall Pass" which has proven to be one of Aesop's most popular songs to date. None Shall Pass documents the vast amounts of personal change Aesop had been experiencing at this time while still deftly depicting scenes and stories relative to all ages of life.

Waxwork Records in partnership with Back Lot Music is honored to release NOPE Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Michael Abels. Oscarr winner Jordan Peele disrupted and redefined modern horror with Get Out and then Us, he reimagines the summer movie with a new pop nightmare: the expansive horror epic, Nope. The film reunites Peele with Oscarr winner Daniel Kaluuya (Get Out, Judas and the Black Messiah), who is joined by Keke Palmer and Oscarr nominee Steven Yeun as residents in a lonely gulch of inland California who bear witness to an uncanny and chilling discovery. NOPE marks Abels' third feature film score with director Jordan Peele, having previously scored Peele's GET OUT and US. The album also features songs from the film, including a new version of Corey Hart's classic "Sunglasses at Night (Jean Jacket Mix)", Dionne Warwick's "Walk on By", The Lost Generation's "This is the Lost Generation", Exuma's "Exuma, the Obeah Man", and a never-before-released gem by a young Jodie Foster, "La Vie C'est Chouette" from the 1977 film MOI, FLEUR BLEUE. "NOPE is my most ambitious score to date," says Abels. "There are elements from the genres of sci-fi, action, horror, and westerns, but always through the tonal palette of Jordan Peele's unique vision. The lines between source music and score are blurred, as a good part of the score seems to be playing at the theme park, which is a key location in the story. The score is at times terrifying, yet also invokes the sense of awe and wonder that the characters feel as they realize what they are seeing. The film eventually becomes a grand adventure, and so the music expands into the larger-than-life scale we expect of a summer blockbuster." He goes on to say, "it was a joy to compose a score that encompassed such a broad range of genres and emotions, and I'm thrilled to have audiences experience all of them through this album." "Michael is one the most exciting composers working today - he has this amazing ability to create new sounds which was important for this film," Jordan Peele says. "He's able to play in the familiar and in the unfamiliar at the same time, so that helps give every film its own character, and he has an incredible mastery of so many different music genres." Abels is known for his genre-defying scores for the Jordan Peele films GET OUT and US, for which Abels won a World Soundtrack Award, the Jerry Goldsmith Award, a Critics Choice nomination, and multiple critics' awards. The hip-hop influenced score for US was short-listed for an Academy Awardr and was named "Score of the Decade" by The Wrap. Abels is also co-founder of the Composers Diversity Collective, an advocacy group to increase visibility of composers of color in film, gaming and streaming media. Waxwork Records is thrilled to present the official NOPE deluxe double LP soundtrack album. The package comes complete with 180-gram colored vinyl, quality packaging, original artwork by Ethan Mesa, heavyweight gatefold jacket with matte coating, a multi-page 12" x 12" booklet, liner notes, & more!

Ltd edition Double Sky Blue Vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Classic Double Black vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Bending scuzzy boundaries, ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ is a coming-of-age garage rock classic record. Full of hedonistic delinquent anthems, the fourth studio album from Atlanta punks Black Lips reaches it’s 15 year anniversary. This deluxe edition includes unearthed photos and new liner notes from Jared Swilley and King Khan. The second disc features B-sides and rarities including ‘Cruising’, ‘I Wanna Dance With You’ and ‘Leroy Faster’. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ perfectly encapsulates the disillusionment of the mid-00s America, slammed between warehouse parties, DIY generator shows and scattered party pics, which was recorded in a little house in Atlanta that had been converted into a studio called the Living Room. Referencing Shangri-Las in the title, this is where their knack for garage gems met Motown; with bass heavy grooves (later remixed by Diplo), a certified country twang and unabashed bravado. Instant hits like ‘Veni Vidi Vici’, ‘Cold Hands’, ‘Bad Kids’ and ‘O Katrina!’ immediately became Black Lips staples. This was a band caught in the eye of the storm, the touring continued, the parties didn’t stop, this was a band bending the scuzzy boundaries of their chosen genre. The record was hailed by the likes of Pitchfork, who proclaimed, “Black Lips are a go-to band for vintage lo-fi freaks, and their raucous live shows have helped them cross over outside of crusty dive bars. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’, however, is the record where naysayers, disinterested friends and acquaintances, people on the street, and anyone else within earshot has to sit up, shut up, and listen.” …and, shut up and listen they did. “A perfect tapestry of sordid pleasure.” NME // “The same rapturous energy as the Sonics and the 13th Floor Elevators.” The Guardian // Track List: Disc One – Good Bad Not Evil. A1 I Saw A Ghost (Lean) A2 O Katrina! A3 Veni Vidi Vici A4 It Feels Alright A5 Navajo A6 Lock and Key A7 How Do You Tell a Child That Someone Has Died B1 Bad Kids B2 Step Right Up B3 Cold Hands B4 Off The Block B5 Slime and Oxygen B6 Transcendental Light… Disc Two - B-Sides & Rarities. C1 Cruising C2 Make It C3 I Wanna Dance With You D1 Best Napkin I Ever Had D2 My Trouble D3 Leroy Faster D4 Buried Alive

Ltd edition Double Sky Blue Vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Classic Double Black vinyl, Gatefold sleeve w/ spot gloss, liner notes + DL card. Bending scuzzy boundaries, ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ is a coming-of-age garage rock classic record. Full of hedonistic delinquent anthems, the fourth studio album from Atlanta punks Black Lips reaches it’s 15 year anniversary. This deluxe edition includes unearthed photos and new liner notes from Jared Swilley and King Khan. The second disc features B-sides and rarities including ‘Cruising’, ‘I Wanna Dance With You’ and ‘Leroy Faster’. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’ perfectly encapsulates the disillusionment of the mid-00s America, slammed between warehouse parties, DIY generator shows and scattered party pics, which was recorded in a little house in Atlanta that had been converted into a studio called the Living Room. Referencing Shangri-Las in the title, this is where their knack for garage gems met Motown; with bass heavy grooves (later remixed by Diplo), a certified country twang and unabashed bravado. Instant hits like ‘Veni Vidi Vici’, ‘Cold Hands’, ‘Bad Kids’ and ‘O Katrina!’ immediately became Black Lips staples. This was a band caught in the eye of the storm, the touring continued, the parties didn’t stop, this was a band bending the scuzzy boundaries of their chosen genre. The record was hailed by the likes of Pitchfork, who proclaimed, “Black Lips are a go-to band for vintage lo-fi freaks, and their raucous live shows have helped them cross over outside of crusty dive bars. ‘Good Bad Not Evil’, however, is the record where naysayers, disinterested friends and acquaintances, people on the street, and anyone else within earshot has to sit up, shut up, and listen.” …and, shut up and listen they did. “A perfect tapestry of sordid pleasure.” NME // “The same rapturous energy as the Sonics and the 13th Floor Elevators.” The Guardian // Track List: Disc One – Good Bad Not Evil. A1 I Saw A Ghost (Lean) A2 O Katrina! A3 Veni Vidi Vici A4 It Feels Alright A5 Navajo A6 Lock and Key A7 How Do You Tell a Child That Someone Has Died B1 Bad Kids B2 Step Right Up B3 Cold Hands B4 Off The Block B5 Slime and Oxygen B6 Transcendental Light… Disc Two - B-Sides & Rarities. C1 Cruising C2 Make It C3 I Wanna Dance With You D1 Best Napkin I Ever Had D2 My Trouble D3 Leroy Faster D4 Buried Alive

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

After the 2021 Re-Release of “Schwingungen” (MG.ART612) we proudly announce “Seven Up” as Part 2 of the authorised 50th Anniversary “A.R.T.” Re-Edition Series.
“Seven Up” is the third studio album by Ash Ra Tempel and their only album recorded in collaboration with American Ph.D. in psychology, Dr. Timothy Leary. The Coverart for “Seven Up” was designed by famous Swiss Artist Walter Wegmüller. Recorded in August 1972 at Sinus Studio in Berne, Switzerland, remixed September 1972 at Dierks Studios in Stommeln, Germany. First release in spring 1973 by OHR Musik - the first release on the new sub-label "Kosmische Kuriere", Kat-Nr. KK 58001.
We release “Seven Up” in a Re-Cut carefully overseen by Manuel Göttsching himself, on September 9th 2022, also being Manuel Göttsching´s 70th Birthday. Our Edition features the full original text for the “7 levels of consciousness” by Timothy Leary in English, i.e. “Instruction Manual for Pleasure Panel” plus a previously unreleased glimpse view of the original scripts incl. notes and mark ups as well as partly unreleased photos from the recording session. ->continued on page 2->continued on page 2 As for the music itself we again refer to Julian Cope´s review and remarks from his book "Krautrocksampler” (published by Head Heritage, 1st ed. 1995):
“When the Leary Mob met the Kaiser Gang, the sparks flew ever Up-wards... 7up is a stone classic in every way. Yes, it is unlikely to find Timothy Leary singing lead vocal in a cosmic group, but even weirder that he chose to sing a wild yelping freaked out blues !
Manuel Göttsching and Hartmut Enke had begun their careers in The Steeple Chase Blues Band back in the mid-'60ies, and they quickly felt their way through what Barritt and Leary were aiming for. They reconciled it all as a kind of West Coast chordless psychedelia, where blues riffs sparkle out of nowhere and the sheer weight of synthesizers renders everything with an unreal Pere Ubu/early Roxy Music quality.
The greatness of Ash Ra Tempel burned so brightly on 7Up that there is really nothing else like it. Hartmut Enke and Manuel Gottsching here returned to their riffy roots. It can hardly be called a retro act, though, as the context of music is everything. And with Dierks at the controls, even the New Kids on the Block would have sounded psychedelic.
7Up is like a late night radio show glimpsed through a shattered tuner where all but the most truly dangerous sounds have been allowed to stay, to drift and to dance around the performers.
The result is an extreme gem, a flash of hysterical white lightning, and a pre-punk Technicolour yawn in the grandest of traditions.
In typical Ash Ra Tempel style, the record is divided into two pieces, “Space” and "Time”. Within this, though,
Timothy Leary’s ideas are allowed to free-flow and the two sides are therefore divided into mini-songs all segued together. The highlight of Side 1 is “Power Drive”, a West Coast burn-up that transcends any W.
Coast music I ever did hear. Leary and Barritt present the greatest twin-vocal of all time, coming on like Jagger and Morrison but too caught up in their own maelstrom to be anything less than Heralds of the Punkfuture still five years away.
In chaos it was conceived and in chaos it was recorded. Yet Dieter Dierks, the great Aural Architect of the Cosmic Couriers, turned 7Up into a personal triumph and a Kosmische dream.”

Ash Ra Tempel – “Seven Up”
TIMOTHY LEARY - voice
BRIAN BARRITT - voice
MICKY DUWE - voice & flute
LIZ ELLIOTT - voice
BETTINA HOHLS - voice
PORTIA NKOMO - voice
HARTMUT "HAWK" ENKE - bass, guitar & electronics
MANUEL GÖTTSCHING - guitar & electronics
STEVE A. - organ & electronics
DIETMAR BURMEISTER - drums
TOMMY ENGEL - drums
DIETER DIERKS - synthesizer & Radio Downtown

Limited edition of 7500 picture disc copies. Spirituals is Santigold's first full-length album since 2016's 99¢, and was mostly recorded during the 2020 lockdown. "All of a sudden there I was with three small children out of school_just-turned-two-year-old twins and a six-year-old_I was cooking, cleaning, doing laundry and changing diapers from morning to night, with three little kids coming in and out of my bed throughout each night like musical chairs. I was losing touch with the artist me, stuck in a part of myself that was too small. I felt the other parts of me were shrinking, disappearing." Santigold struggled but succeeded in defining a space in which she could center herself and collaborate virtually with producers and contributors: Rostam, Boys Noize, Dre Skull, P2J, Nick Zinner, SBTRKT, JakeOne, Illangelo, Doc McKinney, Psymun, Ricky Blaze, Lido, Ray Brady, and Ryan Olson. "Recording this album was a way back to myself after being stuck in survival mode. It wasn't until I made the space to create that I realized I wasn't only creating music but a lifeline," she says. California was on fire, we were hiding from a plague, the social justice protests were unfolding. "I'd never written lyrics faster in my life. After having total writer's block, they started pouring out. I decided to create the future, to look towards where we are going, to create beauty and pull towards that beauty. I need that for myself, but it's also there for whoever else needs it."

An explosive collision of garage punk and weirdo art rock from Sacramento's most exciting export since Mayyors. Clean Living Under Difficult Circumstances is a strange, haunting thrill ride driven by angular guitars, an unhinged drum attack and the dynamic, sometimes violent vocal delivery of Whittney K. Featuring long time members of the Sacramento punk scene, Drug Apts have released two E.P.s on Tyler Pope's (LCD Soundsystem, !!!) Berlin based label, Interference Pattern Records, the first produced by Death Grips' Zach Hill and Andy Morin, the second by Dub Genius and Slits producer Denis Bovell. "The band name is a reference to drug apartments, those Mid-Century Modern complexes scattered throughout Sacramento, with rows of palm trees out front and mock English names like Dorchester Court or the Royal Arms. Common features include: concrete stairs, prison-style walkways with dudes looking in your window every five minutes, moms beating their kids next door and cop car lights reflecting off the pool. An ex used to say, “I hate living in these fucking drug apartments,” and friends would say, “It’s three blocks that way, past the drug apartments.” We all spent time staying up and crashing in them, or we tried to sleep through the noise emanating from their windows. I hear they’re better these days, but who knows? So the name is rooted in places and times."

Hell Yeah's debut Buena Onda compilation proved hugely successful. It also kept people drenched in exotic dance floor sounds while the pandemic has kept everyone apart. Now the Berlin-based party is back and on a mission to redefine what Balearic means with a first-ever vinyl-only sampler featuring exclusive, unreleased tunes and remixes compiled by Marco Gallerani and Gallo from brothers around the world.

The a-side is all about new kids on the block: Australian cyborg disco don Kayroy appeared on the label in 2020 with his Imaginary Expeditions EP and now links with his friend Jaspar Robinson, a dreamer with his head amongst the stars. He provides the vocals which speak of an astronaut lost in space and aching for a missing loved one while sombre chords and downbeat bass make for a beautifully longing groove. It's a blue-eyed Balearic classic. The up-and-coming Italian Feel Fly of labels like Internasjonal then goes widescreen with his 'Esperanto.' The chords shimmer, the baseline percolates and the guitar riffs arc up to the heavens for some late-night intergalactic bliss.

The flip side features more mature and established artists: label regular Max Essa offers a remix of The Vendetta Suite 'Neon Secrets,' which has naive Eastern melodies and rueful 80s chords with a subtle new age feel that dumps you right on the beach at sundown. Last of all come Chris Coco and Micko Roche with true-school Balearic classic complete with cicada-like shakers, mellifluous Spanish guitar licks, flutes and soft, frothy, rolling beats that break like waves on a sun-kissed Mediterranean coastline.

Balearic Beats 2021 Sampler 1 offers something for every hour of the day, making this a perfectly functional 12" for the modern Balearic DJ.

Support by Prins Thomas, Calm, Chris Coco, Andy Wilson (Ibiza Sonica), Pete Gooding, Severino (Horse Meat disco), Will Nicol, Phil Cooper, Leo Mas, Mike Salta, Balearic For You, Jon Sa trinxa

Limited edition gold vinyl edition.
Hamburg's funk adventurers at the top of their game with special guests Ice-T, Charlie Funk, Peter Thomas, Gizelle Smith, Lee Fields, JSwiss & the Mocambo Kidz.

Original press release note (2019):
Carrying blistering funk lines in their fingers and worldly influences in their hearts, the unique and distinctive Mocambo sound is not one to be confused with retro bands trying to recapture an era. Eschewing traditional recording methods, this DIY crew are committed to driving forwards, and 2066 sees them at the height of their powers, broadcasting a call for unity.
After reaching new audiences worldwide and earning critical praise for their two long players on Brooklyn's Big Crown Records in their tropical guise as Bacao Rhythm & Steel Band, the band have reassembled and refocused in their original form, the workhorses behind dozens of 45s on the Mocambo label and beyond. Crossing generations, this album introduces some of the world's youngest funk talent to step up and rub shoulders with soul and rap legends, soul sisters, an elder statesman composer/arranger and a brand new emerging artist out of New York.
As with all Mocambo releases, the two sides of the record have been meticulously sequenced by the
band. Side A welcomes us aboard with joyous instrumental stomper Preaching To The Choir, and a call to build bridges from Mocambo chanteuse and percussionist Nichola Richards, duetting with emerging rap talent, New York MC JSwiss. B-girls and b-boys are called to the dancefloor as Superstrada and Concrete Stardust commence, all buzzing synth lines and relentless drums. New Jersey legend and Big Crown associate Mr Lee Fields is guest of honour for Where Do We Go From Here before a horn workout brings us to a close with Macumba. It's time for a breather.
The B side kicks off with the grand return of the Golden Girl of Funk, Gizelle Smith, a sister who's been busy taking on the world. Composer and presenter Peter Thomas narrates a Return To Space to mark the centenary of the debut of his score to sci-fi show Space Patrol, which first broadcast in 1966. We're back down to Earth and the mean streets for the furious drums and car chase workout of Golden Shadow. Today slows down the pace for a reflective ballad with Nichola front and centre - and here's the next generation: the Mocambo Kidz sing along to their parents' instrumentation for Here We Go, a new kids' block party anthem... with no sleep 'til bedtime. The album closer makes it clear that the Mocambos are nowhere near powering down as Ice T and Charlie F unk bring their A-game for an old school attack which, since you're up bouncing anyway, gives you no excuse not to flip the LP and drop the needle right back on to Side A. Onwards!
A summation of their journey so far and a celebration in anticipation of what's to come, the album is set
to take its place in a legacy of open minded, organically recorded music, showering listeners with the crew's maze of tantalising sounds pulled from funk, afro, hip hop with cinematic composition and storytelling.

In a world awash with negativity and fear, you are invited to climb aboard the Mocambo mothership where all colours and creeds are celebrated. The Mighty Mocambos have returned - stronger, tighter and hungrier than ever.
Carrying blistering funk lines in their fingers and worldly influences in their hearts, the unique and distinctive Mocambo sound is not one to be confused with retro bands trying to recapture an era. Eschewing traditional recording methods, this DIY crew are
committed to driving forwards, and 2066 sees them at the height of their powers, broadcasting a call for unity.
After reaching new audiences worldwide and earning critical praise for their two long players on Brooklyn's Big Crown Records in their tropical guise as Bacao Rhythm & Steel Band, the band have reassembled and refocused in their original form, the workhorses behind dozens of 45s on the Mocambo label and beyond. Crossing generations, this album introduces some of the world's youngest funk talent to step up and rub shoulders with soul and rap legends, soul sisters, an elder statesman composer/arranger and a brand new emerging artist out of New York.
___ As with all Mocambo releases, the two sides of the record have been meticulously sequenced by the
band. Side A welcomes us aboard with joyous instrumental stomper Preaching To The Choir, and a call to build bridges from Mocambo chanteuse and percussionist Nichola Richards, duetting with emerging raptalent,NewYorkMCJSwiss.B-girlsandb-boysarecalledtothedancefloorasS uperstradaand Concrete Stardust commence, all buzzing synth lines and relentless drums. New Jersey legend and Big Crown associate Mr Lee Fields is guest of honour for Where Do We Go From Here before a horn workout brings us to a close with Macumba. It's time for a breather.
The B side kicks off with the grand return of the Golden Girl of Funk, Gizelle Smith, a sister who's been busy taking on the world. Composer and presenter Peter Thomas narrates a Return To Space to mark the centenary of the debut of his score to sci-fi show Space Patrol, which first broadcast in 1966. We're back down to Earth and the mean streets for the furious drums and car chase workout of Golden Shadow. Today slows down the pace for a reflective ballad with Nichola front and centre - and here's the next generation: the Mocambo Kidz sing along to their parents' instrumentation for Here We Go, a new kids' block party anthem... with no sleep 'til bedtime. The album closer makes it clear that the Mocambos are nowhere near powering down as Ice T and Charlie F unk bring their A-game for an old school attack which, since you're up bouncing anyway, gives you no excuse not to flip the LP and drop the needle right back on to Side A. Onwards!
___ A summation of their journey so far and a celebration in anticipation of what's to come, the album is set
to take its place in a legacy of open minded, organically recorded music, showering listeners with the crew's maze of tantalising sounds pulled from funk, Afro, hip hop with cinematic composition and storytelling.
Agent J












l 12 Bounce That Ass (RMX) feat. Ice-T & Charlie Funk

Can it really be thirty years since The Brand New Heavies first sashayed into the public eye with a romantic’s heart, a hedonist’s spirit and a Superfly sensibility?

A heady cocktail of Chic-style funk-pop, sunshine grooves and scorched soul balladry, the release of TBNH on September 6th sees The Brand New Heavies writing a new chapter in what has been an illustrious journey whilst also marking a return to their spiritual home, Acid Jazz Records.

Today The Brand New Heavies share a breath-taking version of Kendrick Lamar’s These Walls recorded with long-time associate and vocalist N’Dea Davenport and produced by uber-fan Mark Ronson. It was that line-up of the band that had originally brought the funk into his life having caught their show in New York in 1991, later inviting them to play at his 40th birthday party. Insistent once more to reconvene that line-up, successfully reuniting N’Dea and The Heavies for his production of this track for their 30th-anniversary album.

The album’s heart, both musically and physically is a friendship that can be traced back to the mid-Eighties - more specifically the shared experiences growing into adulthood on the western reaches of London for Simon Bartholomew (guitar) and Andrew Levy (bass) and a return to the formula that saw the band score sixteen Top 40 hits and three million album sales.

Refined, reimagined and revisited, TBNH was recorded under the watchful eye of producer Sir Tristan Longworth, as Andrew elaborates; “as fathers of young kids, time was important, and we needed someone to crack the whip.” Adding further with a grin; “he also makes these amazing gin and tonics with chilli’s in. The pair also decided to feature various vocalists on these tracks, not only reuniting with Heavies alumni, N’Dea Davenport and Siedah Garret but collaborating with soul legends Beverley Knight and Angie Stone alongside current singer Angela Ricci and new boy on the block, label mate Laville – to present a gilt-edged collection of songs making arguably the best album of their career. Summed up by its cover artwork- shot in the suitably louche environs of ultra-hip nightspot Annabel’s – Simon explains with a smile; “It’s a bit clubby, a little bit sleazy, with a bit of luxury and a smidgen of street.”