Quindi Records News

Following their 2023 LP Presents, Nathan Nelson's American Cream Band bring the Twin City heat back to Quindi with an album rooted in duality. From the yin and yang party-starting A side and meditative B side to the dual-attack boy-girl vocals, the nature of opposites and equals steer the expansive, artful strain of rock n' roll that spill out of this wholly unique Minnesotan export. For the ever intriguing Quindi, it's a strident step into Spring after the frosty introspection of Roudi Vagou & Läuten der Seele's Taghelle Nacht. While the world burns and injustice prevails, Twin is a celebration of unity and radical expression-all the more urgent against the backdrop of authoritarian overreach and righteous protest that has whipped through Minneapolis in recent times.
Twin continues Nelson's drive at the helm of American Cream Band to draw in a colourful cast of players to feed into his orgiastic sound, meshing the trance-induction of krautrock with the irrepressible funk of the post-punk-new-wave explosion. But principal among the cast of characters and forming a central tenet to the identity of this album is Liz Buhmann, lead vocalist and a formidable, playful foil to Nelson's own Midwestern twang. Around the electric spark between Buhmann and Nelson, a heavy duty ensemble wrangle guitar, bass, sax, a cornucopia of synths and a battery of percussion into all manner of sonic forms.
The double-sided concept manifests throughout Twin. On 'Call Me' Buhmann sings in French to contrast Nelson's English, while the strident strut of the NYC disco groove is offset by an inherent dreaminess that turns the track into a more cosmic kind of dancefloor workout. 'Ethical Vampire' is a spiky cut with a garage rock patina that spirals into a psychedelic, synth-soaked get-down. 'Don't Burn The House Down' is a loose and limber roller that captures Can at their funkiest along with the hypnotic vibe of other such esteemed long format jammers, but American Cream Band boils that energy into a hook-laden art pop sensibility before a gentle, drawn out landing.
Even the more pensive moments on Twin find space for friction. For all its tender, smoky temperament, 'Leda and the Swan' lets the electric piano and guitar fray at the edges and bleed into the red while Mat Heinrich's tumbling drums lurch with pent-up intensity on the one. 'No Funeral Necessary' skirts around the mellow pools of new age but prefers to let liberally doused Tape Echo tweak out Alex Meffert's honeyed sax inflections and Buhmann and Nelson's disparate sermons.
Nelson describes Twin as "an oppositorum coincidentia" - a reference to the mystical Latin concept of the coincidence of opposites that suggests contradictory ideas 'fall together' in a higher reality. Beyond the sound of the album, this idea also manifests in the cover photography by Sho Nikado and the swans on the LP labels by Autumn Garrington. As freewheeling and wide-open as American Cream Band feels, nothing appears by accident. The end result feels like a nourishing whole - rich with substance and nuance, deep enough to be explored and absorbed yet also so brazen and immediate you can't help but feel its surface charms from the first thrusts of 'The Hive Is Pissed' to the last ripples of 'We're Not So Sinister'.

Across an extensive suite of enchanting miniatures, Matthias Kremsreiter and Christian Schoppik present the hypnagogic vision of Taghelle Nacht. Recording under their respective Roudi Vagou and Läuten der Seele aliases, Kremsreiter and Schoppik combine their distinct but equally accomplished instrumental practices into a new collaboration that weaves swooning samples amongst instrumental passages. They lead us through 16 vignettes that revel in the cognitive dissonance and seductive magic of moonlight at midnight.

Both artists have past form within the folds of contemporary experimental electronic music in Germany. Kremsreiter's work as alibikonkret has manifested on DIY tape releases created with a methodical, technically-minded approach. Debuting his Roudi Vagou pseudonym on Taghelle Nacht, he pivots to a more playful, instinctively felt method that allows the compositions to flow with a natural cadence. Schoppik has been a key figure in the celebrated dark-ambient-folk scene, not least as part of the group Brannten Schnüre. His work as Läuten der Seele includes the acclaimed 'water trilogy' of LPs between 2022 and 2024, with a greater emphasis on instrumental, atmospheric production, and a last, stunning collaborative album with Nový Sv?t's Jota Solo.

On Taghelle Nacht the precise ingredients of each piece soften at the edges as tape loops and swathes of reverb seal the joints between spellbinding melodic refrains. Opening track and lead single 'Gleisende Lichter' sets the tone with ghostly murmurs, spine-tingling string refrains and splashes of cymbal that cut through the gloom with stark clarity. A lilting romanticism stirs at the heart of the orchestral samples that populate the likes of "Grenzu?berschreitung" - old-world beauty sometimes buried in dust, elsewhere rendered with startling clarity. 'So Süß' lets buzzing, sustained drones and dissonant sweeps of extended technique glide in and out of each other. Granular processing subtly breaks apart the mellow swell on 'Komischer Anruf', and forlorn sax calls out into heavy-hearted space on 'Glaskopf Mit Watte'. At every turn a new scene is painted, distinct from the last and yet all bound up in the pervasive, pale blue light cast over the sleeping landscape Kremsreiter and Schoppik have sculpted.

Snatches of song drift by like dreamlike fragments, and achingly tender flourishes fleetingly appear and retreat - ideas and expressions momentarily caught in the light before retreating into the shadows once more. This is the evocative world of Taghelle Nacht - an unsettling depiction of the surreal blend of memories and imagination that merge into each other once the sun goes down.

Seeking out the inspirational intersection between free improvisation, rave and ancient mysticism, Plants Heal deliver an album of kaleidoscopic, organic beatdowns to Quindi.
Plants Heal is a collaborative project between Dan Nicholls on synths, Dave De Rose on drums and Lou Zon (aka Louise Boer) on visuals. The roots of the project are entwined with Dan and Lou's London-based event Free Movements, which began in 2018 to explore how instrumental music could merge with live electronics and DJ sets. Dave and Dan found themselves playing together frequently at the event and as part of Dave's free improv project Agile Experiments, with their accomplished track records as multi-instrumentalists reaching across many layers of music culture. The particular synergy of their partnership taps into the subliminal, surreal and transcendental soundscapes, but they're reliably anchored by instinctive rhythms and driven by a natural flow-state.
From the tentative steps of their first collaborations, Dan and Dave coalesced Plants Heal as a more pronounced project with Lou's live visuals, culminating in a first self-released album in 2021 and since organically fed and watered through continued performances across adventurous festivals and intimate club spaces. Every incremental step along the path of the project yielded new surprises and the deepening sense of a unique, powerful energy. The trio opted to pour this energy into two days of studio sessions at Sonic Playground Studios in Athens, maintaining their unplanned approach and letting the music and visuals unfold in the moment. The end result is Forest Dwellers, a sincere document of truly free music that uses the rhythmic structure of dance and trance music as a springboard into heightened consciousness.
Throughout the album you can hear hints of the familiar - dub techno shimmers, trip hop boom-bap, kosmische momentum, snarling bass modulation, new age ambience and even the odd sizzle of disco. But none of these references are explicit, and they weave in and out of less placeable expressions deeply bedded into Dan and Dave's sonic practices. The end result is a swirling tapestry of unspooling groove, wide open and agile enough to shift gears mid-flow - just as comfortable letting the propulsion melt away as locking into a four-to-the-floor throwdown. From the slippery syncopation of 'Avena Moon' to the angular bait-and-switch of 'Alien Hardware', 'Yarrow's starry-eyed reverie and the rolling, warm-hearted funk of 'Space Ballad', the Plants Heal sound world is expansive and equally enthusiastic for immediate musical motifs as much as wild abstraction.
Lou's visual practice is an intrinsic part of the project. During performances she improvises with analogue footage from her library run through video mixers and synthesisers, focused on medicinal plants such as yarrow, hawthorn, nettle and thistle. All those plants feature in processed form on the cover of the record, which was designed in collaboration with Lou's brother Arthur Boer. Meanwhile, Lou recorded additional footage in Athens during the recording sessions to feed into the continued cycle of the project's live evolution.
Forest Dwellers' meaning honours this cycle and its reflection of the eternal undulations of the natural world. It's also a sincere tribute to the spiritual importance and radical potential of the dancefloor, drawn from the freedom taught by jazz and dedicated to reclaiming lost ideas about community, agency, bodies and the enduring allure of the unknown.

Emerging from the Minneapolis underground and heading straight towards the sky, IE arrive on Quindi with a full-length album of sparkling, sophisticated wonder. Touching on kosmische grandeur, Riley-esque cyclical patterns, lounge pop and dubbed out psychedelia, the five-piece allow their songs to unfurl with a natural, hypnotic elegance which can take many different forms.
There's a loose, live quality to the recordings IE's members commit to record, which reflects their steady presence gigging in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Since putting out their first release in 2016, they've glided from drone and synth-led jam band ambience (2018's Pome) to strung out, stoner-tinted slowcore (on 2023's outstanding Junk Body). For Reverse Earth they strike a smoky note that wraps itself around your skull across extended run times that evolve with a meditative poise.
From the deceptively driving 4/4 thrum of the opening title track through 'Divination Bag's snaking tryptamine mantras on to 'Simplify's slow and smouldering indie-soul, IE's sound is bathed in a sumptuous warm glow that rounds out the lows and the mids, creating a nocturnal shroud in which their nebulous song structures can feel deliciously endless.
Meredith Gill's drums provide rolling and tumbling undercurrents for the slowly shifting phases of the instrumental players, as Michael Gallope and Travis Workman trade keyboard parts and Workman and Sam Molstad chop and pick at their six-strings. Atop the thrum of her bass, Mariel Oliviera's vocal adapts to the scenery, from a distant, dreamlike siren song on 'Reverse Earth' to a spoken word meditation on 'Babel'.
There's space in each track for every instrument to cut through and have its moment, from a spiralling key vamp to a chicken-scratch guitar flex. The gently twisting, head-feeding groove exercises of the first four tracks give way to a slow and powerful march on 'Dark Rome', closing the record on a noirish anti-ballad fit to peal out in the closing slot at Twin Peaks' Roadhouse (circa season three).
As much as the tracks teem with composition, musicianship, and production to savor, a sound like IE's has a soporific quality that soaks in unconsciously. It's an evocative portal where the band feel as if they could just play on each piece ad infinitum - where the time itself seems to dislodge from its moorings.

Capturing phantom drones behind dusty beats and haunted twangs, Ellis Swan and James Schimpl return for their third album as Dead Bandit. Locked into a musical language unique to their collaboration, the duo once again put us out to pasture across broad sonic plains, drums flapping like loose fence panels in the prairie breeze and bass rumbling like distant thunder. True to their previous two records, Swan and Schimpl keep the strung out guitars at the front of what they do, whether playing a naked, desolate strum or running six strings through disruptive effects processing until they're barely recognisable.
But while there are details of disturbance when listening to Dead Bandit's self-titled record up close, the wider impression is a smoother, more direct affair that toys with post-rock complexity and matches it with the emotional weight of melodic simplicity, gentle grooves and conscious arrangements. 'Weeds' offsets its languid fuzz guitar with shimmering sustained notes before settling into a patient, heavy-hearted composition charged with heartbreak leads pealing out in the middle distance.
By comparison, 'Glass' has a smoky, half-hidden backroom quality. Its brushed whisper of a beat, lingering guitar drones and subtle sub bass come on like a dub wise flip of a sad-eyed country ballad. The mood maintains on 'Half Smoked Cigarette', which captures the grey sky sullenness of post-punk and reframes it in the seductive isolation of rural America. While there's a thickness to the sound on these most direct of tracks on the album, there's also fragility inherent to the sound world Dead Bandit have been shaping out over these past few years.
'Buttercup' swaps sadness for sinister undercurrents, once more drawing on fulsome low end to fill out the sparse threads of instrumentation up top. 'Pink' finds a steady momentum for its own brand of brooding mystery, the sharp end of the beat bringing focus to the many-layered approaches to the guitar which roundly define the Dead Bandit sound. There's an even clearer direction mapped out in the vintage drum machine pulse of 'Koyo', all the better to carry swirling effects treatments and moody melodic figures. Even in these ominous climes there's space for plaintive, endearing hooks which land as the most direct phrases in Dead Bandit's musical lexicon to date.
The fundamental sound across this album holds true, but Dead Bandit are never bound to a singular practice. 'Lucien's Bitters' strikes up a pronounced drum machine beat which comes on like 90s downtempo, and it feels like a natural vessel for the heavy, shoegaze tinted lament of the guitars. At every turn, Swan and Schimpl prove their affinity for all kinds of approaches, and yet the end product is a deeply cohesive, immediate listen that shows just how clear their creative vision really is.

In a continued disruption to the airwaves following releases from Bondo and Monde UFO, Quindi returns to the Californian noise rock scene-not-scene to dig on the gnarled riffs of Expose. On their new release, the LA outfit double-down on a unique blend of bloated guitar fuzz and grimy analogue synths, and come out with a curiously cosmic kind of kick-ass.
If there was a dreamy, sun-bleached quality to Bondo and Monde UFO, their label mates Expose sound more wrought from sweat-drenched jam sessions under halogen strip lights in grease-stained garages. But the guttural quality of their blown-out guitar tone is matched for vibrancy by the dexterity of their playing, bringing angular free jazz to post hardcore and sludge rock, capped off with the unearthly sonic possibilities of flamboyant synthesis.
This dual-layered wall of sound lends extra weight to the likes of shit-kicking 'Speed Dial', which thunders like a kosmische juggernaut with amped up leads and a dead-eyed vocal condensed into a visceral minute, all with enough time for a dramatic breakdown, synth eruption and a final thrust. Similarly scooped out of the trash compactor, 'Description' rides for longer with one foot pressed firmly on the fuzz pedal, letting the electronics squeal around the punked-up rush of the guitars.
But Expose are not a one-dimensional band constantly thrashing it out. By contrast, 'The Constant' hits a crushing emotional note in its more structured push and pull between delicacy and heaviness, hitting bittersweet notes along the way throughout the peaks and troughs of the arrangement. 'Self Terror' washes languid, discordant guitar strum into swirling FX accompanied by sax from Monde UFO's Ray Monde.
Smart as a whip, sharp as a tack and boiling over with an untameable urgency, Expose make their presence felt in brilliant, bruising form on this particularly fierce addition to the Quindi catalogue.

Turning their gaze to the buoyant culture of wyrd, modernist German folk music, Quindi welcome a spectacularly idiosyncratic offering from Johannes Schebler, aka Baldruin. Bewildering narrative twists, high drama and intricate delicacy make Mosaike der Imagination an engrossing listen from the outset, as baroque atmospheres and tumbledown drums intertwine with tactile string plucks and needlepoint synthesis in an authoritative bridging of ancient and hypermodern sonic sensibilities.
Schebler's catalogue as Baldruin is extensive, reaching back to the late 00s and covering a lot of ground through cassette albums on respected underground labels like SicSic, A Giant Fern and Lullabies For Insomniacs. Meanwhile, his work has been recognised as part of a broader movement of experimental electronic music in Germany taking inspiration from folk traditions, as documented on last year's essential Bureau B compilation, Gespensterland. Beyond his solo work, Schebler also works with Jani Hirvonen as Grykë Pyje (mappa), and both collaborate with Paul Wilson as Yayoba (Not Not Fun). Christian Schoppik of leading dark folk project Brannten Schnüre joins him as Freundliche Kreisel (STROOM). It's a tangled, fascinating and evocative sound world which Mosaike der Imagination offers a compelling window into.
No two tracks on the album follow the same pattern or palette, whether gliding through the Giallo synth undulations and post rock tonal arcs of 'Stimme des Wegelagerers' or spelling out miasmic incantations through flickering flames on 'Aus dem Feuer, aus dem Licht'. 'Hinein, hinaus, hinüber' revolves around meditative drum mantras and cascading melodic phrasing, densely layered and evolving with purpose. 'Gemeinsam hindurch' flicks between swooping strings and pizzicato plucks in a purely romantic expression of orchestration, 'Mit verbundenen Augen' is a bewildering choral voice study and 'Im Sternstrom' revels in ecstatic synth arpeggios. Nothing can be predicted except the vibrancy and clarity of Schebler's vision.
It's a vision which extends to the front cover artwork for Mosaike der Imagination — a glorious tapestry created by Finnish artist Jan Anderzén, with a responding design and layout from Schebler adorning the rear sleeve.
Stepping to the side of the cosy daydream reveries that inhabit much of the Quindi output, Mosaike der Imagination indulges the label's penchant for sophistication in a freakily fascinating new framework from the heart of an exciting movement in experimental folk music.

Matching breezy, Bossa nova-tinged sophistication with softly spiralling psychedelia, Testbild! arrive in the Quindi lounge as though they've always been there. On their 12th album, Bed Stilt, the Swedish collective cast their attention back to the earlier days of their 25-year trip through sweetly mysterious pop-not-pop rendered in warm tones and shot through with surrealism. It's tricky to get a precise fix on the story and structure of Testbild! The project was spearheaded by Petter Herbertsson in his hometown of Malmö in the late 90s, although the story on their website credits the inspiration and source material to a chance meeting and unpublished manuscript from a retiring scientist. The collective's evolution since then is a tangled web of facts and fiction spun by a revolving cast of collaborators including Siri af Burén, Katja Ekman, Rikard Heberling, Douglas Holmquist, Mattias Nihlén and Petter Samuelsson. Along the way, their music has touched on chamber pop, post-punk and modern jazz with the elaborate harmonies and catchy songwriting charm of the Canterbury scene. The tracks which make up Bed Stilt were in fact track recorded in Malmö back in the mid- 00s, lying in wait for the right opportunity to be brought to light with some delicate overdubs and finishing flourishes in the here and now. The core musicians working on the record were Herbertsson and Douglas Holmquist on a similarly expansive list of vocals, guitars, bass, synths and keys, Siri af Burén on lead vocals and Mattias Nihlén on synths and additional mixing. Meanwhile Tomas Bodén - better known as Civilistjavel - lent some additional synth work as well as mastering the record. Musically, Testbild! stay true to their idiosyncratic approach on Bed Stilt with six immaculately rendered sojourns through lilting harmonies and brushed rhythms, feeling nostalgic but beguiling in equal measure. Theirs is a luxurious sound, not least on the opening strains of 'The First New Years Eve,' which purrs to life draped in silky Rhodes and chiming vibes. Behind this comfortable veneer the enigmatic lyrical themes unfurl through Herbertsson, Holmquist and af Burén's vocal harmonies like fractalized puzzles waiting to be solved. The finger-picking delicacy and languid harmonica of 'Streams' strike a pastoral mood neatly countered by the elegant slide into dislocated ambience for the track's final stretch. By contrast, 'And Her Eyes Are Red' surges with a big beat urgency which plays beautifully with the mellow jazziness of the chord sequences, boldly toying with song structure to dart down curious tangents without losing the immediate impulse of a great pop record. Somewhere in this tension between clarity and chaos we can understand the addictive charm of Testbild! - a band steeped in the considerable craft of making accomplished and unconventional music so very easy to sink into. If that doesn't make for a perfect addition to the Quindi catalogue, we don't know what does.

At once a spiritually-charged journey and a shit-kicking party record, American Cream Band comes to Quindi covering all the bases.
American Cream Band was formed by Twin-Cities musician Nathan Nelson around 10 years ago, taking the form of improvised live shows and albums Frankensteined from these sessions into exultant, fully-formed records you can sink your teeth into. The trick with improvised music is to start with intentions, however abstract they might be, and Nelson leads his rolling cast of collaborators into the creative fray with subtle guidance which drives the impulsive musical moment forward.
The band's previous records have manifested on labels like Moon Glyph and Medium Sound, and now Presents arrives in a freewheeling flash of snappy new wave, skronky sax, call and response sass and some krautrock-minded sonic cosmology. The album came together in December 2021, when Nelson took ten musicians to legendary studio Pachyderm in Cannon Falls, Minnesota. Living together, eating together, and with Nelson quietly setting up his low-key magick intentions around Jupiter's planetary frequency and the studio's abundance of elephant statues and carpets, they laid down some drum-heavy sessions that became the building blocks of the record.
'Taste What We Taste' is the perfect example of an exuberant groove pounded on skins as a vessel for a joyous get-down, with the singers and players free to freak out on top. Nelson remains at the centre of the melee, throwing half-sardonic, half-heartfelt calls out for connection. 'Banana' celebrates nonsense and holds down the most serious of beats - a disco-not-disco deadeye dripping in late night sleaze and lysergic potential. On 'Royal Tears', the jagged guitar chops call back to Gang Of Four, while the hot n' heavy sax from Cole Pulice baits James Chance and all the other angular New York un-jazz misfits.
Amongst his other implied intentions for the recordings, Nelson wanted to channel opposites, not least the distinct male-female energies in his vocal sparring with the girls on assistance duties. It wouldn't be right to call them backing singers as they shoot back at his punchy mantras, bringing a certain fierce femininity that tips its hat to The B-52's Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson, not to mention iconic post-punk bands like Au Pairs, Delta 5 and Bush Tetras.
There's space for the dreamier kosmische which has crept into the American Cream oeuvre in the past, as 'Sirens' opens the album up in a swirling pond of rag tag percussion and molten synths. 'Words Would Handcuff Us' cools the whole riotous assembly down in unmoored perfection, a strung-out Bossa nova seance dusted with celestial drips from analogue spaceships.
Equally treading the line between light and dark, conscious and unconscious, the sacred and profane, Presents is a life-affirming, creep-under-the-skin listening experience - a joyously transient chapter in the evolution of American Cream Band.

Three years on from the desolate beauty of their debut, Quindi Records is proud to present the second album from Dead Bandit. The ghosts of their past endeavours still haunt their guitars, but on Memory Thirteen the duo's delicately dishevelled Southern gothic feels tonally distinct from their prior outing.
Dead Bandit is Ellis Swan and James Schimpl - the former a noted solo singer-songwriter from Chicago with a penchant for eerie, witching hour murder ballads and the latter an accomplished Canadian multi-instrumentalist with a bias towards heartworn, roaming soundscapes. Their instrumental collaboration has an open, lyrical quality which says as much as any spoken line, and on this album they've especially embraced the power of contrast as we're guided between scenes, sometimes within the confines of one track.
'Peel Me An Orange' is especially instructive in this regard, beginning as a blown-out paean to sonic degradation and the acute sense of hopelessness it projects, only to yield to a lilting tape loop of twanging guitar before entirely widening out in an emphatic burst of post-rock optimism.
Post-rock isn't noted for its banal cheeriness as a genre, and Dead Bandit aren't about to lay down feel-good drive-time anthems, but the sense of pulling at extremes of energy and introspection show Swan and Schimpl to be testing the emotional limits of their weatherbeaten sound. The cautiously sentimental mood of 'Blowing Kisses' hints at the hard-won light which can be encountered while pointedly driving into darkness.
Sometimes noise is a subtle device - a looming bed of unease under the forthright pluck of Swan's distinct guitar tone or the cracking round the edges of a beaten up drum machine. On 'Memory Thirteen' the distortion on the bass becomes a central figure in its haggard waltz, while 'Staircase' and 'Perfume' leave the signal wet until the delay feedback becomes the body of the riff. Either way, the sound is never left untouched as Swan and Schimpl grow more comfortable in their exchange, blurring their respective sonic languages as they expand their shared vocabulary to create an album of depth, difference and devoted distortion.

With its tenth record from Fortunato Durutti Marinetti, Quindi continues to celebrate songwriting and storytelling framed by curious musicality. In keeping with the label's trajectory to date, this is an album which draws on a universal human sentimentality and presents it with an uncommon flair. In the case of Toronto-based Daniel Colussi, the man behind Eight Waves In Search Of An Ocean, his melancholic poetry cuts through with a clarity which calls to mind all-time greats from Anette Peacock through to Lou Reed and Leonard Cohen.
Turin-born Colussi has drifted through various bands, guises and styles over the past 20 years, but since settling into Fortunato Durutti Marinetti as a vehicle for his songs, he's found a strong expressive impetus which transcends genre to become entirely hinged on the power of his words and melodies. The first album under this alias was a 2020 cassette album, Desire, later pressed on vinyl due to demand in tandem with the release of 2022's Memory's Fool. On each record, Colussi has found distinct arrangements of players to set the mood, ranging from gently lilting art and folk rock through to orchestrated balladry, but Eight Waves In Search Of An Ocean widens the palette of Fortunato Durutti Marinetti to create an album in which each song feels like a tale unto itself.
Colussi's renewed approach is instantly apparent as album opener 'Lightning On A Sunny Day' unfurls, informed greatly by producer Sandro Perri's input pursuing a hybrid electro-organic sound. The addition of drum machines and synths to the musical palette bring with them the strong connotations of pop while the sax and violin sounds similarly smooth and silky, and one can't help but think of John Martyn's slide into the digital sound of Sapphire or Kraftwerk's bittersweet synthetic tenderness.
Within this sound, there's still space for the energy to fluctuate according to the whims of songs. 'The Flowers' turns inward with a soft-touch composition as delicate as the petals Colussi describes falling to the floor. 'Misfit Streams' and first single 'Clerk Of Oblivion' savour the fluid, luxuriant tone of fretless bass with all the 80s connotations intact. Colussi remains the central focus whatever happens around him, in possession of the kind of unforced charisma which drives a song deep into the listener's heart. It's at once entirely his own style and yet comforting and familiar. The lyrics might sweep you into the singer's inner world, similarly to the experience listening to late 60s Tim Buckley, or you might well inhale the mellow jazziness of the harmonic movement like you would Joni Mitchell on Hejira.
The emotional direction of each track is never linear - 'Smash Your Head Against The Wall' snarls its rhythm section before the strings sow their aching beauty to cool the song's temper, winding up as a track of distinct halves jabbing at each other. "I Need You More' leaves space for spiralling flute solos and strangely stiff, militaristic drum rolls in the midst of a sweet, slightly sad synth ballad, the final wave receding back into the tidal undulations of Colussi's unique exploration of his muse.
The artist himself dubs his musical expression as "poetic jazz rock" with a sideways glance - it's not exactly poetry, far from trad jazz and it doesn't really rock, yet the tag feels uncannily like it fits, just like the curious music it's used to describe.

Heralding 2023 from way out west, Monde UFO land on Quindi with a distinctive album of dream pop vignettes and outer rim punk exotica.
Hailing from the same Californian heat haze as recent Quindi signings Bondo, Monde UFO have manifested in the past four years through a series of DIY releases including their 2021 album 7171 and last year's set of Fugazi covers, 4 Songs. The loose fit project centres around the singing, playing and songwriting of Ray Monde and Kris Chau and features Kern Haug on drums. The resulting sound arrives as a resourceful analog of plush 60s pop captured through the modest means of a truly independent musical endeavour.
The sound rendered on Vandalized Statue touches on dubby atmospherics, the lilting breeze of bossa nova and the introverted muse of US indie rock, but the end result is a natural, cohesive whole centered around the songwriting. Imagine the girl from Ipanema sat toking in a comfortable spot in the corner of the dive bar while someone weaves her a tall tale or two, and you might be somewhere in the right direction. The stories in the lyrics unfurl as meandering narratives taking you through everyday exchanges and far-fetched, cosmic scenarios alike. At every turn the cosy musicality gives everything a relatable, homespun charm, even as the mixing desk becomes a mess and the lo-fi FX crash into each other.
The album will be fronted by three singles which reflect the wide reach of Monde UFO's sound. 'Visions of Fatima' is one of the more melancholic pieces on the album, fronted by laconic organ and centring on cracked vocals with an off key charm that indirectly evokes Jeffrey Lee Pierce. 'Government Employee' is a sun-kissed trip of low-key lounge surrealism, bizarro storytelling and shuffling exotica splendour which broadly defines the woozy mood of Vandalized Statue. 'Garden Of Agony' is a more delicate but no less dreamy piece matching electric tremolo with acoustic fingerpicking balladry which hides its considerable depths behind a seemingly simple arrangement.
At once intimate and projected into the cosmos, Monde UFO add to the particular path Quindi is taking through hidden corners of independent music with a romantic, restless spirit.

Bondo is four Los Angeles musicians collaging displaced tempos and fractured melodies. Their sparsely vocalised music conspires to bring into view a practical enlightenment, evoking the sandy contentment of an exhausted marine sunset. The organically mechanical compositions wander with the intention not to be aimless, but to be consumed in Process.
Bondo comes to Quindi Records to release its first full-length album, Print Selections, and it is saturated in the communal consciousness of the band. The songs call for the individuals to dissolve to make way for the music.
The lyrical content of the record tells of a mind made anew, cleared of its data & ego to witness nothing in particular. Bringing the past with them, the band makes clear allusions to their influences - their tones reminiscent of outfits like Duster, Unwound, Acetone & Fugazi, but also has heavy nods to more formless genres like the dub melodies of King Tubby and the jazz of Archie Shepp.
The music feels like the dusty bed of a scanner, plays like the light leaking from underneath its lid.

Drawing the night in around his private, unnerving vigil, Ellis Swan returns to Quindi Records with an album of cracked beauty and haunted balladry. The Chicago-based singer-songwriter debuted on the label last year with a collaborative project called Dead Bandit, a vividly produced instrumental set in thrall to the badlands and a laconic, languid Americana.

Under his own name, Swan records intimate, poetic songs in a stark fashion, so fragile they might disintegrate in between your fingers were you to pick them up. He draws the microphone close to pick up every whisper and drags the music through layer upon layer of tape fuzz, leaving room for atmospheric impressions which loom out of the walls like the ghosts of past misdeeds. These pieces play on the natural distortion and delirium which occurs at the farthest end of the night - the hour before dawn might hope to break the veil of darkness.

Swan's is a hauntological sound, but like the late Israeli rockabilly icon Charlie Megira his process strikes a spooked tone past revivalism and out of time or place. The only anchor which places Swan anywhere is the subtle presence of Katherine Swan providing lyrics to '3am' and lyrics and backing vocals to 'It Could Be Worse'.

The impression cast is of one man and his guitar, but there are other textures tucked into the music - the muffled murmur of a drum machine or a low frequency organ hum, some desolate piano, other treated percussive impulses which might well have been the work of incidental sprites while the four-track was rolling.

There are fuller cuts like 'Evening Sun' and the title track '3am' which play with structural dynamics and creep out of the shadows a touch, while passages of plaintive, instrumental unease such as the hypnotic, mantra-like 'Chinatown' protract the space between songs. 'Swing' lolls between moments of bottomless silence and a discernible, rickety funk, and 'Puppeteers Tears' teases out a buried drama. But primarily, it's the light touch of 'Horses Bones' and tin can tenderness of 'She's My Sweet Summer Storm' which spell out the spellbinding character of 3am; a singular creation fusing the best qualities of folk, blues and Americana with a fearlessly experimental sound palette.

Released in conjunction with the reissue of the Raintears EP, Quindi is proud to present further archival finds from Italian experimental project Cabaret du Ciel. Like a Fool / Inside Loneliness is a single shining a light on the brief collaboration between Andrea Desidera, Gian Luigi Morosin and singer Barbara Volpato.

After years working as an instrumental outfit, the sessions with Volpato from 1991 were the first time Desidera and Morosin's project had welcomed in a vocalist. Of the many tracks written and recorded at that time, the best two were selected and carefully restored from the original tapes, now immortalised on vinyl and expanding the public impression of Cabaret du Ciel.

'Like A Fool' re-imagines the hazy serenity of Cabaret du Ciel in a dream pop context, injecting the soft-focus synth work with the energy of bold drums to provide a suitable framework for Volpato's voice. The crisp twang of new wave guitar completes the picture, while the trademark progression intrinsic to Cabaret du Ciel lends itself to the traditional song structures of pop.

'Inside Loneliness' is a natural companion to the A side, redolent with the heavy-hearted synth-pop romanticism of the late 80s and early 90s. The DIY sound on the track conveys an intimacy that can only come from artists recording in their own private environment, pouring their hearts and souls into a four-track recorder without a conceit other than pure, honest expression.

Quindi Records returns once more to the swooning romanticism of Cabaret du Ciel, the long-running project from Andrea Desidera and Gian Luigi Morosin. After the contemporary material which made up long-player The Breath Of Infinity, Raintears heads back into the group's archives and focuses on a limited cassette release from 1991.

Originally released on Morosin's own Ionisation Tapes, Raintears is described as heralding a new phase for Cabaret du Ciel following their earlier Solarisation and Weather Colours cassettes. This revised, expanded version of the release opens with 'Raintears (Piano Version)', which originally came out on an Ionisation compilation entitled Imago Sonora 1. Truly evoking the spirit of the track and its meaning, it was recorded on a rainy Sunday afternoon when Desidera's friend and trained pianist Francesco Martignon heard the original melody for 'Raintears' and proceeded to improvise on the theme, with Desidera and Morosin embellishinbg Martignon's exquisite playing with subtle touches of synth and sampling. In its fragile, tape-worn repose, the piece is loaded with the delicate ambience a rainy Sunday afternoon implies - calm, melancholic and wistful.

'A New Day' is a piece cast in light and shade, contrasting two core melodic phrases expressed through synth and guitar, with a light touch of speech sampling adding to the cinematic poise of the track. 'Time Of The Twins' originally appeared as a single track on the cassette release, but here it's framed as two distinct parts which meet in the middle. The first half is patient, gliding ambience rich in the harmonic interplay and winding narratives which typifies Cabaret du Ciel overall. The second half opens up like a flower looking for the sun, all pronounced keys pirouetting across the fundamental chord progression established in the first chapter.

'A Delvaux Postcard', previously titled 'East Roads', takes on a spectral, spacious form as it passes by slow, rhythmic pulses and freewheeling synths, momentarily joined by scattered shards of sampled voice layered and filtered in a manner which reminded Morosin of Belgian surrealist painter Paul Delvaux. The EP closes with the original version of 'Raintears' (billed here as 'Raintears II'), a plaintive and disarmingly beautiful ambient piece centered on Desidera's light and poignant playing. As Morosin himself describes, "Andrea is in a full state of grace, touching the listener through his fingers with the notes into their deepest emotions. The first time I listened to the basic version, I was just speechless."

After their celestial Arcturian Corridors opened proceedings on Quindi, London-based brothers Clive and Mark Ives are back with a new record. When Woo first began recording at home in the early 70s, Clive and Mark were the embodiment of furtive genius. Since re-emerging in 2013, they've released scores of albums, collaborated with Seahawks, and have now struck up a productive relationship with Quindi.

On Paradise In Pimlico, you're hearing a very different sound to the one gently creaked out on early classics like Into The Heart Of Love. This is fulsome, contemporary production rich in detail and artful sound design, but crucially, Clive and Mark's gorgeously melodic approach remains open and inquisitive, even with the sheen and shimmer of modern studio techniques.

Woo sound more confident than ever in their composition, too. The crystalline, fragile tones of 'Cadenza D'Innocenza' glide through key changes that spell out an engrossing narrative, while the cascading melodies on 'Moment To Moment' pirouette across the space between notes with masterful poise. 'Paradise In Pimlico' is an illustrious suite of orchestral composition played out with the lightest touch, framed by the slightest of synthesized fauna and topped off with tender sax and flute. Album closer 'In Case Love Fails' takes on a subtly cinematic urgency with its undercurrents of walking bass and the strike of the string section (synthetic or otherwise).

There's space for markedly new approaches, too. The rhythm section on 'The Motorik Mirror' clunks and pops with a tactile, high-definition quality which teeters between electronic sculpture and clockwork, organic machination. The deft, lightly-brushed drums coursing through 'Even More Notes' see Clive and Mark step into a different mood, celebrating the beat as another fluid, tonally-rich texture in the mix and adding a smoky, jazzy hue to the Woo repertoire.

It's far from a drum-focused exercise though. At every turn, you're confronted with aching beauty and timbral surprises. If there's one constant throughout Paradise In Pimlico, it's the omnipresent chimes. These twinkling drops of light scattered throughout are something of a hallmark of Woo, ensuring the lilting, lullaby-like magic of their music persists whichever direction they head in.

Includes Download Code and Special Insert Drawing !
Quindi Records continues to yield intriguing prospects as we reach the third edition, moving from Woo's astral ruminations via Cabaret Du Ciel's sonorous meditations on to the dusty, dusky mantras of Dead Bandit. Maintaining the ambiguous creative practices of the label's previous releases, From The Basement r eaches to the earth for the malleable grit of post-rock while making the most of the broader sonic outlooks afforded by kosmische and electronic effects processes.
Dead Bandit are Chicagoan songwriter Ellis Swan and Canadian multi-instrumentalist James Schimpl. Swan has previously released solo works including the stunning, inward-looking album I'll Be Around, a lo-fi Southern gothic dragging the husk of country ballads through battered signal chains. In Dead Bandit, Swan and Schimpl's artistic vision casts its gaze outwards on a vast expanse, where the distortion has space to stretch its legs and the drums pound out into open space. There's a common tonality at work here, the duos guitars telling a thousand hard-bitten tales where Swan's voice falls silent. It's no surprise to learn Swan and Schimpl's reference points include Neil Young's Dead Man soundtrack, SF noise rockers Chrome and the imperial work of the late, great Mark Sandman of Morphine.
You can sense Jim Jarmusch's America just lingering behind the road-weary thrum of 'These Clouds' and detect the shadow of Tom Waits lurking in the raunchy lurch of 'FF M'. The pointedly titled 'Sedated' calls to mind the slowcore movement and its rejection of rock n' roll's fixation on speed. Instead, tonality and atmosphere are key across From The Basement , although the ambient lull of 'I See Her There' is the exception rather than the rule. Dead Bandit's desert sound has vibrancy and immediacy to match its moodiness, from the sultry swagger of opening track 'Mud' to the bold and borderline bombastic 'When I Looked Around'.
Like the previous Quindi releases, this record is inherently experimental in nature, but not at the expense of its warmth and instant appeal. From the basement, an inquisitive pair with primitive tools look out and imagine a colossal plain as the canvas on which to paint their picture

Following the stellar trip through Woo’s Arcturian Corridor , Quindi Records continues to explore intimate, inviting sounds with an experimental bent by facilitating the return of overlooked Italian duo Cabaret du Ciel.
Initially formed in 1986, Cabaret du Ciel’s debut album Skies In The Mirror was a low-key and extremely rare cassette release of spellbinding electro-acoustic ambient music created by Gian Luigi Morosin and Andrea Desiderà. A reissue on Hybride Sentimento in 2018 brought renewed attention to the startling music contained within this unique project.
The Breath Of Infinity is an album comprised of new works recorded over the past year, either as new pieces or reworked from old ideas with the assistance of Giorgio Ricci. Morosin and Desiderà’s natural instincts as multi-instrumentalists shine through across the record as they did on Skies in the Mirror , although these tracks were in fact composed as raw live takes using electronic workstations (with a little additional fretless bass provided by a close friend Giampaolo Diacci on “Different Suns” and “Climatic Variations”).
There is a crisp, digital timbre to the worlds Cabaret du Ciel shape out on The Breath Of Infinity – utopian pastureswith an air of optimism similarly expressed in the first waves of ambient electronica. Folk traditions exert a guiding influence on the sparkling, ethereal melodies and full-frequency harmonisation, but this is music enamoured with timeless plateaus rather than hackneyed interpretations of the past, present or future.
It’s also an album of variety. “Different Suns” tumbles with a pastoral, elemental earthiness thanks to the interwoven rhythmic murmuring of percussion and live bass, while “Lakota” pivots in sharply rendered bio-mechanical formations.
There’s a widescreen bombast to “Theatre Azure” which calls to mind mid-90s US electronica, while “Meredith” reclines in a blissful bath of plush 80s FM synthesis. “Sunset Parade March” has a distinct sense of propulsion thanks to its overdriven, broken techno rhythm and “Highlands” skips with an infectious energy despite not using any formal
kind of percussion, but even in these more kinetic moments a preference for mellow musicality maintains the dreamlike mood.
Consider The Breath of Infinity like an archipelago, where each track functions as its own distinct island of ideas while being intrinsically interconnected to the others. In a similar fashion to acts such as Ultramarine (who appeared as remixers on Quindi 001), Cabaret du Ciel emphasise the musicality in their electronic music, shaping out an
evocative, imaginative environment to idly glide through or attentively explore.

The premise for Quindi Records is simple – to represent music with a universality at its core.
Without adhering to specific genre tropes, the releases are intended to have a meaning and purpose in all kinds of situations – a social soundtrack as much as a stimulating experience,
feeding emotions and the psyche with a sentimental palette of sounds. Lovers’ music, loners’ music, music for friends and family alike.
Woo makes for a perfect choice to meet this loose concept head-on – the music of Clive and Mark Ives straddles disparate worlds and finds its own peculiar balance. On one hand it’s delicate synthesizer music with a minimalist bent, while on the other their joyous, twinkling harmonies have an immediacy that speaks to the soul. You can detect privacy in their craft – the brothers originally recorded their music in relative isolation in London in the 70s, 80s and early 90s. It’s only in recent years their sublime work has enjoyed a wider audience through an extensive run of reissues.
Arcturian Corridor ? presents a rare, previously unreleased piece of music from Woo – the expansive suite of the title track that unfurls across five parts. It’s an enchanting listen that shows a new breadth and depth to the duo – detailed drum programming and a broader palette of synth tones cascading in elegant unison. The name refers to Arcturus, the fourth brighteststar in the night sky. As Woo themselves explain, “The Arcturian Corridor is said to be a channel of light that brings unconditional love and wisdom from Arcturus to Earth.”
In addition to the 20-minute A-side piece, Woo also presents a new version of “Love On Other Planets”, a standout piece from their 1990 album ?Into The Heart of Love? . The fragile subtlety of the original has been embellished here with rich new passages that turn it into a kind of electronica epic, although still marked out with the sensitivity one expects from a Woo record.
Two remixes complete the set, both furthering Quindi’s modus operandi as a genre-agnostic force for cosmically charged music. Dublin’s Wah Wah Wino collective present their Wino Wagon manifestation for a tastefully strange house version of the fifth part of “Arcturian Corridor” that channels the freakiness of Pepe Bradock, the robo-funk of Metro Area and a soupcon of pop nous. British duo Ultramarine maintain the stylistic ambiguity as they channel decades of expressive experimentation between live band dynamics and machine soul on their version of the title track’s second chapter.