Cerca:states of mind elements of tone

Santana Bridges the Divide Between Live and Studio Material on Moonflower: 1977 Double Album Features Extraordinary Performances, Soulful Vibes, and Dynamic Mix of Latin, Rock, Funk, and Blues
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies: Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set Plays with Audiophile-Quality Detail, Balance, and Imaging
1/4” / 15 IPS original analogue non-Dolby master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe



Though it may seem strange now, Moonflower stood for nearly 15 years as Santana’s first and only live record released in the United States. This despite the fact that roughly half of the double album consists of new studio songs, including a zesty cover of the Zombies classic “She’s Not There” that reached the Top 30 of the singles charts.

However unconventional, the “split” strategy went over like gangbusters. Moonflower reached the Top 10 of the Billboard Top 200 and achieved double-platinum status — feats the group would not again replicate for 22 years. These, and the beautiful quality of the program itself, are among the reasons why the 1977 effort remains viewed by critics and fans alike as must-have Santana.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Moonflower presents the record in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic reissue. Part of the MoFi’s Santana catalog restoration series, this collectible version features quiet surfaces and black backgrounds that expose the critical details, liquid tones, and dynamic interplay central to Santana’s music.

The enhanced sonics extend not only to Carlos Santana’s six-string wizardry, but to the rhythmic, melodic, and vocal elements that course throughout both the studio and live cuts on Moonflower. The grip and depth of the bass lines; the wash of the organ; the scope and carry of the vocals; the extension and weight of the low-end frequencies; the rich textures of the guitars, percussive devices, and keyboards: all appear amid wide, balanced soundstages and image with right-sized dimensionality.

Significantly rooted in the styles and approaches that inform the group’s first three records, Moonflower captures the final appearances of iconic percussionist Jose “Chepito” Areas and go-to keyboardist Tom Coster on a Santana album. As he did during the preceding five-year stretch, Coster inhabits a large role here, sharing songwriting credits on a majority of the new cuts and helping steer the arrangements toward spiritually minded albeit concise directions that encompass vibrant Latin, rock, and blues themes that began to escape the ensemble shortly after his departure.

Close your eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on the R&B-kissed “I’ll Be Waiting,” anchored by Carlos Santana’s gliding fretwork and Greg Walker’s creamy vocals. Enter the cosmic universe of “Zulu,” on which Coster’s nimble phrasing opens the gate to polyrhythmic beats, knotty grooves, and interlocking funk. Grab the album cover and drift off to paradise amid the equally evocative “Flor d’Luna (Moonflower),” a romantic slow dance that Carlos Santana ensures tiptoes en route to its blissful destination. Channeling a different spirit animal, the guitarist later lets loose on the hard-hitting “El Morocco,” on which he seemingly engages in a shootout with himself and wades into the rippling psychedelia that elevated the band’s early material.

Speaking of the past, Moonflower triumphs on that level as well. In more ways than one, the live selections — and the caliber of the performances — chosen for inclusion represent an abbreviated greatest-hits survey of the band up to that point. And, at the very least, a convincing argument about why Santana had progressed into one of the most formidable bands you could hope to see on a stage in the mid ‘70s.

Simultaneously representative and illustrative of the group’s breadth, tracks stem from the collective’s eponymous debut, Abraxas, and Santana III as well as the then-more recent Amigos and Festival. Whether you fall for the sidewinding spell of a spicy rendition of “Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen,” lose your head to the positively epic momentum of “Soul Sacrifice/Head, Hands & Feet,” or keep dropping the needle on the savory grace of the brilliant reading of “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile),” this pressing of Moonflower puts you — and Santana’s first-chapter legacy — in good hands.

1/4" / 15 IPS / Dolby A Analogue Copy to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Carlos Santana and Company Return to a Dynamic Blend of R&B, Latin, Funk, and Rock: Amigos Aims for the Hips, Spreads Joy, and Includes “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile)” Amigos has been beloved for decades by both long-time and recent Santana admirers, with multiple generations of fans drawn in by the record’s contagious blend of R&B, Latin, rock, and funk elements. As well as its immense accessibility. Coming off a series of albums that heavily leaned into jazz fusion, the band returns to the more dynamic and concise approaches of its earlier works without losing the sense of adventurousness, craftsmanship, and virtuosity that turned it into a juggernaut embraced by both the mainstream and experimentally minded communities.

Mastered at Mobile Fidelity’s in-house studio in California, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM LP of Amigos presents the 1976 album in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic release. Part of the reissue label’s Santana series, this collectible version features quiet surfaces and black backgrounds that help reveal the intricate details, distinguished tones, and cohesive interplay that cause Santana’s music to take flight.

The enhanced aural perspectives extend not only to Carlos Santana’s intoxicating fills and solos, but to the rich tapestry of the rhythmic, melodic, and vocal elements that help Amigos feel as fresh today as it did several decades ago. This LP shines a beaming light on the surrounding musicians that simultaneously feed off and inspire their bandleader. The solidity and depth of the bass lines; the wash of the organ; the scope and carry of the vocals; the grip and weight of the low-end frequencies; and, possibly the most enticing traits, the textures of the acoustic guitars, numerous percussive devices, and then-modern synthesizers: all come across with tremendous presence and energy.

Entirely appropriate for a set that kicks from the start, with the opening “Dance Sister Dance (Baila Mi Hermana)” true to the song title’s combination directive-invitation meaning. Tropical, soulful, upbeat, and liberating, it beckons hips to shake and delicious libations to pour. Clinking cowbells, spirited background vocals, hand-tapped congas, and Carlos Santana’s six-string magma pour forth with abundance. The song sets the mood and expectations for a record that contains not an ounce of filler, and which inspires and spreads joy at practically every turn.

On the gold-certified Amigos, the ensemble never seems to run short of zest or happiness. Key in on the Latin bite and searing guitar architecture of “Take Me With You,” an instrumental that shifts tempo at its midpoint and sparkles with a samba-like outro that aims to put everyone in earshot on the dance floor. Surrender to the slow-burn of “Tell Me You Are Tired,” sent up with Greg Walker’s sympathetic vocals and spun around with whirling funk accents. Marvel at the Spanish guitar introduction, Mexican folk foundation, group vocals, and extroverted grooves of the forward-propulsive “Gitano,” with lead singing by conga/bongo expert Armando Peraza.

Having reached the Top 10 in the United States and spawned the hit “Let It Shine,” Amigos marked the final stint for bassist David Brown, the last of the group’s famed Woodstock lineup to depart. His contributions feel especially spirited throughout the album, compass readings that the group uses to chart their course. Just listen to how his passages pop on “Let Me” and frame the can’t-get-it-out-of-your-head “what you need is what you want” refrain. And while Carlos Santana remains the centerpiece of the brilliant and meditative “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile),” Brown serves as a trustworthy anchor and friendly advocate.

Clear Vinyl

On Rock Island, their second LP, Palm produces evidence of a distinct musical language, developed over time, in isolation, and out of necessity. On the island, melodies are struck on what might be shells or spines. Rhythms are scratched out, swept over, scratched again. Individual instruments, and sometimes entire sections, skip and stutter. There is the sense of a music box with wonky tension or a warped transmission in which all the noise is taken for signal.

Like other groups so acclaimed for their compulsive live show, Palm has been burdened by the constant comparison between their recorded material and their touring set. On Rock Island, they render this tired discussion moot, using the album form to present that which could never be completely live, reserving for performance that which could never be completely reproduced.

Despite appearing behind the instruments typical of rock music, Palm trades in sounds of their own making. On these songs, one of the guitars and the drum kit are used as MIDI triggers, producing an index that can be combed through later and replaced with new information. The percussion is sometimes augmented so as to suggest a multiplication of limbs. The strings are manipulated to choke, crack, and hum like other instruments, or other bodies, might.

Working again with engineer Matt Labozza, the band spent the better part of a month in a rented farmhouse in Upstate New York. With the benefits of time and space, Palm recorded the various elements piecemeal, only rarely playing together in groups larger than two or three. While some members tracked, others holed up in the next room, experimenting with quantization, beat replacement, and other methods borrowed from electronic music. Even accounting for the many labors that brought them to be, these materials seem produced by an organic logic. Their complex friction forms a habit of thought, scores a network of grooves on the floor of the mind.

This is music with dimensionality. Sonic objects are deployed, developed, and dissected in various states of mutation. The listener flits about between the field and the lab. The tone is warm in a way only the sun could make, the pace as forceful and as variable as a gale. Whether one locates Rock Island in a sea or in a refinished attic (as in Greg Burak's album cover), whether one escapes to there or is banished, its psychic environs are charted clearly enough. Only at this remove from the mainland can we sense the conditions necessary for such a strange species of sound.

On Rock Island, their second LP, Palm produces evidence of a distinct musical language, developed over time, in isolation, and out of necessity. On the island, melodies are struck on what might be shells or spines. Rhythms are scratched out, swept over, scratched again. Individual instruments, and sometimes entire sections, skip and stutter. There is the sense of a music box with wonky tension or a warped transmission in which all the noise is taken for signal.

Like other groups so acclaimed for their compulsive live show, Palm has been burdened by the constant comparison between their recorded material and their touring set. On Rock Island, they render this tired discussion moot, using the album form to present that which could never be completely live, reserving for performance that which could never be completely reproduced.

Despite appearing behind the instruments typical of rock music, Palm trades in sounds of their own making. On these songs, one of the guitars and the drum kit are used as MIDI triggers, producing an index that can be combed through later and replaced with new information. The percussion is sometimes augmented so as to suggest a multiplication of limbs. The strings are manipulated to choke, crack, and hum like other instruments, or other bodies, might.

Working again with engineer Matt Labozza, the band spent the better part of a month in a rented farmhouse in Upstate New York. With the benefits of time and space, Palm recorded the various elements piecemeal, only rarely playing together in groups larger than two or three. While some members tracked, others holed up in the next room, experimenting with quantization, beat replacement, and other methods borrowed from electronic music. Even accounting for the many labors that brought them to be, these materials seem produced by an organic logic. Their complex friction forms a habit of thought, scores a network of grooves on the floor of the mind.

This is music with dimensionality. Sonic objects are deployed, developed, and dissected in various states of mutation. The listener flits about between the field and the lab. The tone is warm in a way only the sun could make, the pace as forceful and as variable as a gale. Whether one locates Rock Island in a sea or in a refinished attic (as in Greg Burak's album cover), whether one escapes to there or is banished, its psychic environs are charted clearly enough. Only at this remove from the mainland can we sense the conditions necessary for such a strange species of sound.

Emotionally, crafted by Brainislave Zivkovic and Andre Tschaskowski in 1986 for Coloursound, is arguably the most beautiful library album ever produced. A start-to-finish masterpiece of powerfully melodic music for reflection and introspection. It is, indeed, deeply emotional.

Branislave Zivkovic handles the majority of Side A. Opener "Morning Light" evokes exactly that feeling, with a gorgeous and plaintive acoustic guitar solo combining with alto flute to stunning effect. Its immediate counterpoint, "Sundown", in no less arresting but brings with it an after-dark drama of almost Lynchian proportions, again drawing upon guitar and flute but with a slightly more melancholic, even sinister edge, also calling to mind Ry Cooder's score for Paris, Texas. It truly captivates when the strings arrive. Remarkable.

The reflective cello solo with swelling strings at the heart of "Pastoral Walk 1" ensure this track is aptly titled, with parts 2 and 3 adding more agitation - via keys and percussive elements - to great effect. "In The Garden 1" presents an elegiac cello solo whilst its second part elevates the romance. The four-part "Soft Thoughts" suite invites further introspection via reflective alto flute and guitar. Fans of The Durutti Column will need to seek this.

Andre Tschaskowski enters proceedings with three tracks at the end of the Side A. All of them aces in the pack. "Grief", whilst sorrowful, uplifts in its second half through beautiful keys. Equally hopeful are the two-part "Personal Mood" sketches, both dreamy exercises in optimistic ambience.

Tschaskowski controls the entirety of Side B. "Woodland Mood", with its pastoral flute and cor anglais and "Reminiscence", with its classical, emotional strings, both beguile. The piano and strings-heavy "Sentimental View" suite is one of the most beautiful, atmospheric things you will ever hear, particularly its second part. "Moonset 1" with it's wonderful Joe Pass-esque guitar is tense yet easy, the beauty elevated further with the introduction of strings and horns. The more restrained "Moonset 2" is pared back to its divine, sweeping essence and should surely have been sampled by now. To close out an album of almost impossible refinement, the brief 2-part "Emotional Tension" salvo brings both increased stress before resolving itself and the LP with a piano motif and atmosphere of serenity. Blessed relief.

As David Hollander, in Unusual Sounds: The Hidden History of Library Music, states, Coloursound was "founded in 1979 by composer, music lawyer, and vibraphonist Gunter Greffenius. A Munich-based library with a reputation for releasing innovative and ambitious music, it catered largely to the market for experimental sounds, its first release was 1980’s Biomechanoid, an abstract synthesizer excursion by Joel Vandroogenbroeck, of the pioneering kosmische band Brainticket. The record — complete with imposing, anonymous title and unearthly H.R. Giger cover art — set the tone for the label’s progressive leanings. The label’s catalogue stands as a tribute to the unfettered creative license that libraries were able to provide to forward-thinking musicians who, frustrated by the whims and constraints of the commercial scene, found complete freedom in the world of production music."

As with all our library music re-issues, the audio for Emotionally comes from the original analogue tapes and has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regular Simon Francis. Richard Robinson has brought the original Coloursound sleeve back to life in all its metallic silver glory.

Following on from last year’s acclaimed Sylva Sylvarum, the epic double LP from Ora Clementi (her collaborative project with James Rushford), crys cole returns to Black Truffle with Other Meetings. Originally commissioned and released on cassette by Boomkat Editions in 2021, Other Meetings is a major addition to the body of carefully hewn solo work cole has released over the last decade, offering up two side-long suites of her radically intimate approach to sound. After many years dominated by touring and travel, cole found herself in lockdown in her Berlin apartment, working in a limited space with minimal equipment. Digging through archives of recordings taken overseas and exploring the sonic potential hidden in the objects surrounding her (including a coffee pot and a vase of dying flowers), she crafted what in her liner notes she calls ‘an internal dérive, a journey that drifted through many places without a defining compass’. Totalling over 50 minutes, the two pieces unfold at an unhurried pace, each containing four individually titled subsections. Beginning with a sequence of the highly amplified small sounds characteristic of much of cole’s work, the opening moments of ‘The time between two durations of sleep’ are underpinned by a gentle rocking motion, weaving together contact mic crunch, metallic resonance, glimpses of bird song, and isolated drum machine hits, the sonic space expanding and contracting as focus moves between elements. Briefly side-lined by a tactile but unplaceable sizzling, this complex weave of voices then returns in a kind of dubbed-out ‘version’, the percussive accents echoing around the stereo space. In one of the record’s most beautiful and unexpected moments, these sounds are joined by a sparse melodic line performed on a broken 1980s digital synth, the vaguely New Age timbres being taken on a long, tonally ambiguous wander. Cole’s immersion in memories of travel comes to the fore in the final section of the first side, titled ‘Wat Paknam’ after a royal temple in Bangkok, where snatches of voices, ringing bells and distant waves of chanting blur together with synth tones into an increasingly abstracted wave of sound. The second side, ‘Slices of cake’, opens in a similarly hallucinatory outdoor space of echoing bird song and liquified traffic before abruptly zooming in on a microscopic world of subtly processed and highly amplified objects, explored with a starkness and quiet insistence that calls to mind the fringe not-quite-concrète of outsiders like Paul A.R. Timmermans or Knud Viktor, whose obsessive interrogation of dripping water might also serve as a point of reference for the following sub-section, the aptly titled ‘magischer Abfluss’ (magic drain).

While Other Meetings develops many aspects of cole’s previous work – the hyper-magnification of small gestures, the unsettling edits and fades partly inspired by hypnagogic states, the location recordings smeared into oneiric haze – it is almost as if these pieces are somehow songs, the remnants of an evaporated music of which nothing remains except isolated hits from a synthetic drum, a handful of notes, or simply a duration of emptied atmosphere. Radically reductive yet deeply musical, Other Meetings is a major work from an artist driven by an uncompromising and idiosyncratic vision.

Presented with an inner sleeve with photos and liner notes from the composer and remastered audio.

From its earliest utterances, experimental music has been particularly disposed to transnational and cross-cultural collaboration. Seeking the answer for a fundamental problem - how to transcend the boundaries of difference, distance, and time - it presents a means to find common ground and communicate through the elemental form of sound. Over the last 5 years, this precisely what the duo of Félicia Atkinson & Jefre Cantu-Ledesma has achieved, intertwining sublime sonorities across the geographic expanses between their respective homes in France and the United States. Their third album for Shelter Press, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ (‘A winter in the middle of summer’) - the first to have been largely recorded by Atkinson and Cantu-Ledesma together in the same space - distills a mesmerizing pallet of acoustic and electronic sources into an open discourse of radically poetic forms, offering glimpses of warmth and intimacy waiting in the post-covid world to come.

Both veteran experimentalists with celebrated bodies of solo work behind them - each traversing the challenges of electroacoustic practice in their own singular ways - prior to their first recorded outing in 2016, Félicia Atkinson and Jefre Cantu-Ledesma had only crossed paths in person once, initially meeting in San Fransisco during 2009. The mutual bond formed during that brief encounter flowered into their first LP, ‘Comme Un Seul Narcisse’, followed two years later by 2018’s ‘Limpid As The Solitudes’. Both recorded remotely - sending files back and forth, fortified by conversations on a vast range of subjects - these two albums were guided by impassioned conceptual nods to Guy Debord, Baudelaire, Brion Gysin and Sylvia Plath, while seeking resolutions for the challenges and unique possibilities that working at a distance provoked.

Where the triumphs of its predecessors rose from the bridging of disparate moments and divergent spaces, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ culminates as a celebration of closeness, a result of Atkinson and Cantu-Ledesma working together in the studio, responsively in real time, for the first time. Recorded in Brooklyn during August of 2019 - a handful of months before the pandemic would impose chasmic distances across the globe - its six discrete works, carefully crafted and finalized over the ensuing year, evolve seamlessly across the album’s two sides, weaving a sprawling tapestry of sonority, within which both artists retaining their own voices and visions, while drawing each other towards uncharted ground.

Atkinson likens the recording of ‘Un hiver en plein été’ to have been akin to “a playground”, each artist “hungry for each sound, a bit like the rush in the Louvre in Godard’s Bande à part”, to which Cantu-Ledesma adds that the process seemed to have had “a mind of its own”, with both “along for the ride”. This organic sense of entropy and enthusiasm - a joyous exploration of the unknown - guides the momentum of the album’s evolving arc, as unfolding chasms of ambient space ripple with humanity, life, and fleeting glimpses of the actions that led to its material core.

Crafted from deconstructed melodic elements and drifting long-tones - laden with subtle nods to Indian classical ragas and free jazz - searching patterns of speech, textural elements captured within the studio and the outside world, and searching tonal and percussive interventions, ‘Un hiver en plein été’ coheres as a multi-faceted series of electroacoustic dialogues; nesting conversations between two artists working at the juncture of abstraction and narration, field recording and harmony, and the philosophical and phenomenological, in search for the meaning of friendship, and its manifestation in pure sound.

Composer Tashi Wada has performed for years with his father Yoshi Wada—artist, composer, and early member of the Fluxus movement. However, they have rarely appeared together in studio settings. Nue, the fourteenth entry in RVNG Intl.'s intergenerational FRKWYS series, finally brings Tashi and Yoshi, along with an eclectic group of close friends and extended family, together on tape.

Nue draws on aspects of Tashi's background for his widest vision to date—among them the minimalist bagpipe music of Yoshi, who co-composed three of the tracks, the psychoacoustic and perceptual explorations of his mentor, composer James Tenney, and reimagined forms of ancient and devotional music. The album, however, is not a tribute to the past or a recapitulation of familiar sounds. Instead, Nue is an intertwining of people and ideas as a means of growing, of looking inward to move outward, and of looking back to move forward.

To achieve this growth, Tashi assembled a core group of fellow travelers, including Yoshi, composer Julia Holter, producer Cole MGN, and percussionist Corey Fogel, to give life to this multifaceted suite. As an experience, Nue subtly navigates the interactions, intimacy and spaciousness of this group.

The album's title itself is a nod to Tashi's abiding interest in duality and the unknown: nue is a mythological Japanese chimera with the face of a monkey, the legs of a tiger, and a snake for a tail, a composite form, at once disturbing and otherworldly. But, as the composer points out, nue is also French for naked—stripped of complexity, bare and exposed, but also raw and essential.

From the doubling of tones—and the world of harmonic nuances such an action produces—to the rich interplay between individual musicians, all baring their own personalities and experiences through shared performance, Tashi's compositions allow space for these elements to join and grow. The multipartite creature that is an ensemble melds in the simplicity and purity of the music itself.

As explained by Tashi, each part was written with an individual in mind, not simply an instrument. And each individual performer makes their mark, from Holter's vocal performances on the cresting, oceanic 'Mutable Signs' and 'Ondine' with guest vocalists Simone Forti, Jessika Kenney and Laura Steenberge, to Fogel's resonant, precise percussion on 'Bottom of the Sky.' Producer Cole MGN, who has worked extensively with artists like Beck and Ariel Pink, helped to create a world of sound with minimal yet multi-dimensional materials. Like many of its influences, Nue uses deceivingly simple means to create complex, coherent worlds and narratives.

Tashi notes the influence of legendary Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector, whose work looked inward, investigating memory and emotion and dream, to understand the often overwhelming world outside the self. Like Lispector's classic novel Near to the Wild Heart, Nue cleaves these archetypal dualities—world/self, old/new, complex/simple—to create a work that allows them to coalesce into something singular.

As Tashi states in his liner notes: 'My desire was to create something both old and new sounding—ancient and futuristic—and ultimately something of its own world and other. Nue is a vision, an endless night of dreams, and a personal history of sorts, full of joys and demons.'

Long-term Soma collaborator Tony Scott drops his debut album with the label under his Edit Select alias, the perfectly crafted experience, 'Cyclical Undulations'. Having released with Soma under his Percy X moniker for years and having countless hits under his belt, Scott reinvented himself as Edit Select. Known for his dark, expressive and expansive music, Edit Select has become once of the most well respected and renowned artists in the genre. With this latest full length, he continues to explore the furthest reaches of the Deep Techno spectrum.

The Cyclical Undulations journey begins with Insta Grain, a mesmeric odyssey of ebbing pads and sparse percussive elements that seem to drift of into the expanse. A perfect opener before the first foray into more 4x4 territory begins with Above Ground a pulsating affair before Two Step Phase, a more stripped back affair, reminiscent of earlier Percy X works in it's 90s heyday. Undulation, more propulsive in it's approach, melds warping synth hooks alongside spectral tones. Horizon#1 follows in a similar vein yet drift into slightly more hypnotic territory as recurrent tones lead the track. Scott flourishes with yet more machine-throb crafting Close Up & In The Beginning She Was, both stacked with subtle nuances of his stylised percussion lost across dream like states. The later half of the album has a distinct minimalistic approach yet seem to provide maximal output with every beat. Horizon#2 is dark and ominous yet still characterised by a tough percussive element. Contact, produced in collaboration with Claudio PRC, delves into more submerged sounds with heavy sub bass and echoed drums, finishing of with Towards The E; a shuffling broken beat affair with after hours vibes and an endearing ethereal quality.

Cyclical Undulations demonstrates a mature sense of production from Edit Select. An assured collection of material, each track providing a striking insight into a true artistic mind.

'Intraverso is a journey in that momentary 'inbetween land' that many of us experience sometimes. It explores the turmoil of feelings of when one gets stuck in the middle, floating in between ambition and complete stillness'.

Fabrizio Lapiana is a well-known name on the contemporary Italian techno scene. He has been involved in music since the 90's when he started DJ'ing in his hometown Rome. To date he has over two handfuls of releases on labels such as Figure Jams, Arts and M_Rec Ltd - as well as his own imprint, the well renowned Attic Music, founded in 2008.
Intraverso is Fabrizio's debut album, set for release on his label. The record is a very personal journey, according to the artist himself. You here find him examining different territory than where he usually heads within his productions. The album, which consists of nine songs in total, was composed between April 2016 and February 2017 in his studio in Rome. Written in a state of 'introspect', we here see an artist in motion. Changing. Evolving. The perfect moment to explore something new and unveil a different side of yourself to the world.

The intro 'Early Morning Waves' opens the album with its own quiet dramatic tone, waves hitting the shore as we move into 'Bret'. A cloud-walking kind of melody welcomes you, accompanied by a curious beat driving the journey forward. A deep heavy bassline and almost ancient sounding melody rises in 'Onironauta' (reflecting 'Early Morning Waves' mystical mood) until more playful elements blends in. The contemplative bass elements continue in the title track of the album; 'Intraverso' is a track of mind traveling discovery, yet before drifting too far you are grabbed by a snare, a clap of white noise and a pulsating beat to keep you on track. Further on, 'Lost In Negative Thoughts (reshaped)' reveals itself with its heavy ominous drumbeats and a dark spun web of strings is joined by sounds of distant life and machinery. Then there is 'Distance' which is the album's first flirt with more dancefloor friendly territory. Still under a veil of ill-lit melodies, expertly programmed percussion and claps creates something for a more personal body move experience. Moving into 'Again' sees the expedition continuing journeying through the dancefloor, albeit in a deeper landscape where flickering extraterrestrial sounds watches you go along. In 'Backlit' you find the albums most organic moment, an ambient slow thoughtful walk through the consciousness of the producer - only to end up with the album's final moment; 'Freckles (beatless)'. Here we drift deeper off into slow ambient melodies with a comforting thoughtful bassline taking us to the end of our voyage.

Lapiana has composed an album where you get to travel with him on a sonic journey into the deepest corners of his mind, baring vulnerabilities as well as strengths. Intraverso carries a feeling of ancient atmosphere via its melodic language through its whole running time, perhaps since the foundation of the album is based on emotions and the mind. Thoughts, feelings and mental states that always have been with us, no matter the time and place. It is a mature debut album for an artist that proves he is willing to risk going into different areas than the tried and tested ground. One might say Intraverso is a record created for an introvert introspective dancer, willing to see what lies beyond that of which is visible at first glance.

Panorama Bar resident Nick Ho¨ppner gets to Work on his second solo album on Ostgut Ton, connecting the territories of House music with the ease of Alt-Pop.
Work as in labor. An axiom that fuels the capitalist system just as the Techno/House scene economy says that one needs to keep oneself busy to make a living. As a musician, things are complicated of course. It's a long way from the romantic idea of creating music simply for the sake of art to becoming a full time musician. Those who have accomplished this feat often find themselves in a professional loop of writing the music, producing it, promoting it (with an info text like this), releasing it and then hopefully selling it. After leaving his full time job as Ostgut Ton's label manager in 2012, Nick Ho¨ppner went fully freelance, focusing on his musically diverse, deep and dynamic DJing in and outside Berghain's Panorama Bar, but more importantly spending more time in the studio. The result was his critically acclaimed debut album Folk (Ostgut Ton, 2015), various 12' releases and remixes, and now his sophomore LP, Work, which, more than ever, lays out his refined production skills and his talent to work the machines until they reveal their inner ghosts: nine new songs that now dodge the dance floor, then fully embrace it.
Work as in body of work. A record is more than the sum of clocked up hours at the studio, but the result of an artistic-creative process. On Work, Ho¨ppner shows his everlasting lust for musical detail, his increasing technical skills and compositional finesse. Work is a very personal, soulful and deep record that breaks through the usual club/dancefloor narrative by documenting Nick's interest for hybrid sounds and combining elements from varying musical genres. Work's lead single 'All By Themselves (My Belle)' is a very atmospheric, intimate and steadily unfurling IDM piece with ethereal synth and vocal pads; on the album it's contrasted by 'Clean Living' with Tram 78, a modern Ho¨ppner club classic: powerful, kick-heavy, muscular, cheerful and uplifting. It's a very personal track resulting from a recent reencounter with an old friend. Having spent countless hours together in Berlin's clubs in ever changing states of mind a decade ago or longer, things have since changed for both towards a more - clean living'. Connecting to this musical vibe 'In My Mind' follows with a slightly darker tone putting emphasis on bassline, percussion and squeaky sound detailing. 'Hole Head' pays tongue-in-cheek homage to Nick's love for UK club music, when a dashing melody of synths and vibraphone is matched with clattering breaks and syncopation. The dubby, mesmerizing 'The Dark Segment' not only impresses with its hypnotic synth figurines, but also by morphing to a shuffling Jazz rhythm towards it's middle part; 'Forced Resonance' uses Oberheim synth brass stabs to dramatic effect; the percussion- and clap-laden 'Fly Your Colours' comes with an irresistible piano melody atop an energetic kick; and finally the album-closing, shuffling but rhythmic, noisy yet bluesy 'Three Is A Charm' featuring the duo Randweg on clarinet, cajo´n and acoustic guitar is a coherent departure heading towards Indie Pop territory. It sees Nick collaborating with acoustic instrumentalists for the first time in his ten-year- spanning Ostgut Ton release catalogue.
Work as in artwork. Staying in line with the Folk album, the visual companion for this record comes from German collage artist Frank Bubenzer. As with the artwork at hand, Bankentsunami, and his other works, Bubenzer cuts up print magazine advertisements and recontextualizes them into new motifs, removing all human depiction from the source material, here as a commentary on the world of business, big money and the banking crisis.
Work as in work it. As a slogan 'work' has always been one of the genre's most utilized paroles, coined and put on wax by pioneers like LNR, Blake Baxter or Steve Poindexter, to name a few. Not only calling for the crowds to get moving on the floor but also to fully express themselves and their unique individuality inside an all embracing environment. A mindset rooted in House Music that has been an integral part of Nick Ho¨ppner's identity as a DJ and producer from the beginning and all through his decade-spanning residency at Panorama Bar. Work it!