quête:the the blenders

This is the first reissue of the super rare 1968 Reggay anthem.
Originally released together on the Blue Cat label, this very much sought-after single features two exceptional tracks from the golden era of Jamaican music. "Belly Lick" by Dennis Walks and "The Game Song" by Drumbago & The Blenders exemplify the rich musical landscape of late 1960s Jamaica. Both tracks were written by Dennis Walks and produced by Joe Gibbs.

This reissue brings these two rare gems back to vinyl, allowing enthusiasts and collectors to experience their authentic sound. The original pressing has become highly collectible, with copies fetching big sums in the collectors' market.
This exceptional release will be available on our website and in select record shops worldwide from March 28, 2025.

A 4 song EP of remixes of songs from A Grape Dope's Backyard Bangers album. Featured remixers are Laetitia Sadier (of Stereolab), Four Tet, Jeff Parker (of Tortoise), and Roberto Carlos Lange (also known as Helado Negro).

Ba Da Bing is releasing the soundtrack to 2022’s paeon to cuisine prep, Flux Gourmet. A vibrant, four-coursed, 23-track double album, Flux Gourmet includes contributions by Heather Trost, Jeremy Barnes, Marta Salogni, Cavern of Anti-Matter, and Roj (Broadcast), as well as Strickland’s own compositions as part of The Sonic Catering Band. British Director and sonic pioneer, Peter Strickland, known for The Duke of Burgundy (2014), Berberian Sound Studio (2012) and Björk: Biophilia Live (2014), has always pushed visuals and narrative to absurd heights. In Flux Gourmet, performance artists taking part in a residency dedicated to sonic catering combining cooking, sound and theater. Food is amplified, microphones are jammed against blenders, and the sizzling sound of the frier turns becomes an ominous rattle. The film’s soundtrack is equally as process oriented, experimental, and kaleidoscopic as its protagonists’ practice. Contributors are Cavern of Anti-Matter, Jeremy Barnes, Heather Trost, Roj (formerly of Broadcast), Tim Harrison, Dan Hayhurst and Nurse With Wound.

“I’ve been coming a thousand years / you could call me the endless fuck,” goes the memorable opening line of Rubblebucket’s Earth Worship, a dance-forward, joyously layered collection of songs which work to dissolve the imaginary lines between the natural world and its inhabitants. Kalmia Traver and Alex Toth, the group’s front persons and co-writers, first began a friendship as jazz students at the University of Vermont. Soon after, they formed a prolific band that has delved into pop, funk, dance and psychedelia over five records, with performances spanning Bonnaroo to their self-curated Dream Picnic Festival, and collaborations with kindred genre-blenders including Arcade Fire and Questlove. But Traver and Toth initially bonded over another shared passion: the two were part of UVM’s Sustainable Community Development program. Though Toth communes with nature as part of his morning routine, and Traver is adept at foraging in the band’s adopted home of New York, songwriting explicitly about environmentalism in Rubblebucket has felt immaterial—besides, the band has shared its beliefs over the years by inviting anti-fracking, reproductive justice, and other organizations to table at their shows. But Traver was interested in writing love songs for and from the natural world, and both were inspired by their parents’ work in ecology and community facilitation, from which they saw a throughline to music’s communal healing. Traver suggested “earth worship” as a lyrical prompt for their sixth record, and with this concept at its core, the duo began writing Earth Worship: a Rubblebucket album with renewed shimmer, showcasing the group’s intricately sparkling beats, hushed yet hooky vocals and infectious melodic complexity.

“I’ve been coming a thousand years / you could call me the endless fuck,” goes the memorable opening line of Rubblebucket’s Earth Worship, a dance-forward, joyously layered collection of songs which work to dissolve the imaginary lines between the natural world and its inhabitants. Kalmia Traver and Alex Toth, the group’s front persons and co-writers, first began a friendship as jazz students at the University of Vermont. Soon after, they formed a prolific band that has delved into pop, funk, dance and psychedelia over five records, with performances spanning Bonnaroo to their self-curated Dream Picnic Festival, and collaborations with kindred genre-blenders including Arcade Fire and Questlove. But Traver and Toth initially bonded over another shared passion: the two were part of UVM’s Sustainable Community Development program. Though Toth communes with nature as part of his morning routine, and Traver is adept at foraging in the band’s adopted home of New York, songwriting explicitly about environmentalism in Rubblebucket has felt immaterial—besides, the band has shared its beliefs over the years by inviting anti-fracking, reproductive justice, and other organizations to table at their shows. But Traver was interested in writing love songs for and from the natural world, and both were inspired by their parents’ work in ecology and community facilitation, from which they saw a throughline to music’s communal healing. Traver suggested “earth worship” as a lyrical prompt for their sixth record, and with this concept at its core, the duo began writing Earth Worship: a Rubblebucket album with renewed shimmer, showcasing the group’s intricately sparkling beats, hushed yet hooky vocals and infectious melodic complexity.

“I’ve been coming a thousand years / you could call me the endless fuck,” goes the memorable opening line of Rubblebucket’s Earth Worship, a dance-forward, joyously layered collection of songs which work to dissolve the imaginary lines between the natural world and its inhabitants. Kalmia Traver and Alex Toth, the group’s front persons and co-writers, first began a friendship as jazz students at the University of Vermont. Soon after, they formed a prolific band that has delved into pop, funk, dance and psychedelia over five records, with performances spanning Bonnaroo to their self-curated Dream Picnic Festival, and collaborations with kindred genre-blenders including Arcade Fire and Questlove. But Traver and Toth initially bonded over another shared passion: the two were part of UVM’s Sustainable Community Development program. Though Toth communes with nature as part of his morning routine, and Traver is adept at foraging in the band’s adopted home of New York, songwriting explicitly about environmentalism in Rubblebucket has felt immaterial—besides, the band has shared its beliefs over the years by inviting anti-fracking, reproductive justice, and other organizations to table at their shows. But Traver was interested in writing love songs for and from the natural world, and both were inspired by their parents’ work in ecology and community facilitation, from which they saw a throughline to music’s communal healing. Traver suggested “earth worship” as a lyrical prompt for their sixth record, and with this concept at its core, the duo began writing Earth Worship: a Rubblebucket album with renewed shimmer, showcasing the group’s intricately sparkling beats, hushed yet hooky vocals and infectious melodic complexity.

As Could Change begins, you'll notice how little audio material is really needed for your brain to start turning things into things. The merest slice of a plosive becomes a beat. The notes buried in every vowel are a bass line that nobody's fingers can reach. And of course the lyrics are the music: a synthetic voice, stripped of its humanity, that will relentlessly call to your brain like a siren and beg you to make sense of what doesn't. This piece isolates your perceptive abilities in the audio realm the way an optical illusion works on your eyes. Its melody is the amount you'll struggle to turn sound into sense. On top of that, it's delightfully fucking annoying. Marc Matter first came around as part of Institut fuer Feinmotorik, The Durian Brothers and Salon des Amateurs and has been politely shoving vocal recordings through various sorts of blenders ever since. (Angela Sawyer)