Zwei weitere Deepfunk/Soul-Tracks aus dem Bandarchiv von Benjamin Robinson von Coco and Ben. 'Thumping For You' ist ein hypnotisch-schwebender, gefühlvoller Funk-Banger mit dieser eingängigen Gitarre, die den Hörer sofort an Coco and Ben erinnert, während ein lockerer Vibe auf die Tanzfläche trifft.
'Brandon's Song' hält die hypnotisch-lockere Stimmung für laue Sommernächte aufrecht.
Following the success of Highly Refined Pirates' forward-thinking guitar gymnastics and Menos El Oso's groundbreaking glitch rock, Seattle's premier pop revisionists Minus The Bear dug into some of rock music's most ostentatious years for inspiration for their 2007 album, Planet of Ice. The title alone conjures images of Yes's Relayer album art, and the influence of the elder statesmen's symphonic scope can be felt throughout Planet of Ice's lush and intricate arrangements. You can also hear the band channel the ominous instrumental interplay of Lamb-era Genesis on "Dr. L'Ling", the deceptively savvy musicianship and pristine production of Steely Dan on "White Mystery", and the tightrope walk between ethereal space and pre-metal riffage of Pink Floyd's "Echoes" on "Lotus". Not that Minus The Bear completely abandoned their earlier style_elements of Menos El Oso's sample-driven technique can be heard on the lead single "Knights". But the heart of the song ultimately belongs to the haunting Fripp-esque guitar lines spliced between verses. After being out of print on record since 2010, Suicide Squeeze is proud to reintroduce Planet of Ice's creative marriage of classic motifs and modern musical wizardry with a vinyl remaster courtesy of Bernie Grundman.
"Pop" is a tag that's been assigned to Minus The Bear throughout their career. It's been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It's also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it's a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Now celebrating its 10-year anniversary and first time in print since 2011, Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear's first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track "Fine + 2 Points" remains one of the band's strongest opening tracks in their discography,charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Outta My Head". If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with "Let's Play Clowns" and "Dog Park" - nods to Highly Refined Pirates' formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider's lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus The Bear's original trademark version of pop, but on songs like "I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien" the band eschews it's restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that's inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out "Pony Up!" the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus The Bear's first two full-lengths transpire within under half-an-hour, with the their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn't fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus The Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century.
Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”
Following the success of Highly Refined Pirates' forward-thinking guitar gymnastics and Menos El Oso's groundbreaking glitch rock, Seattle's premier pop revisionists Minus The Bear dug into some of rock music's most ostentatious years for inspiration for their 2007 album, Planet of Ice. The title alone conjures images of Yes's Relayer album art, and the influence of the elder statesmen's symphonic scope can be felt throughout Planet of Ice's lush and intricate arrangements. You can also hear the band channel the ominous instrumental interplay of Lamb-era Genesis on "Dr. L'Ling", the deceptively savvy musicianship and pristine production of Steely Dan on "White Mystery", and the tightrope walk between ethereal space and pre-metal riffage of Pink Floyd's "Echoes" on "Lotus". Not that Minus The Bear completely abandoned their earlier style_elements of Menos El Oso's sample-driven technique can be heard on the lead single "Knights". But the heart of the song ultimately belongs to the haunting Fripp-esque guitar lines spliced between verses. After being out of print on record since 2010, Suicide Squeeze is proud to reintroduce Planet of Ice's creative marriage of classic motifs and modern musical wizardry with a vinyl remaster courtesy of Bernie Grundman.
Limited Transparent Blue vinyl. “Pop” is a tag that’s been assigned to Minus the Bear throughout their career. It’s been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP, and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It’s also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it’s a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear’s first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track “Fine + 2 Points” remains one of the band’s strongest opening tracks in their discography, charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Outta My Head.” If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with “Let’s Play Clowns” and “Dog Park”—nods to Highly Refined Pirates’ formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider’s lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus the Bear’s original trademark version of pop but on songs like “I’m Totally Not Down With Rob’s Alien,” the band eschews its restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that’s inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out “Pony Up!” the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus the Bear’s first two full-lengths transpire within under half an hour, with their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn’t fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus the Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century
New limited pressing on Zombie Green Vinyl. Suck My Shirt is the fourth studio album by the Atlanta-based all-female punk rock band The Coathangers. It was released in 2014. Mark Deming of AllMusic writes, 'their approach to songcraft has matured and tightened up quite a bit, and the departure of keyboard player Candice Jones has turned this group into a leaner and meaner three piece. "It's a balance between overthinking and just going for it," guitarist Crook Kid (Julia Kugel) says of their songwriting strategy. It's a duality immediately apparent with the album opener "Follow Me." It's a classic Coathangers tune with Stephanie Luke's raspy vocals belted out over their signature ragged garage-rock. . But the chorus opens into one of the most accessible hooks in the band's canon, just before segueing into the next verse with a squall of violent dissonant guitar.
’Angelo lost his shit over it. Aaliyah’s 3rd favourite track of all time is on it. David Bowie rocked up with it to a TV interview, declaring it “the most exciting sound of contemporary soul music”.
In 1996, Lewis Taylor released his self-titled masterpiece. A true modern classic, it’s an album that was years ahead of its time. Forget 25 years ago, it could easily have been made in 2021. An effortless blend of neo-soul, sophisticated pop, smart grooves and laid-back white funk, it enjoyed rapturous reviews from critics and music legends alike. But the album never managed to make an impact and given what was likely a token vinyl release at the time, the original records have long since been near-impossible to find. Lewis Taylor’s Lewis Taylor remains a holy relic for some and criminally unknown to most.
Lewis Taylor’s impeccable influences created a dazzling sonic palette: the LP as a whole suggests the visionary brilliance of Prince; the vocal stylings evoke the yearning power of Marvin Gaye; the effortless guitar playing shares the virtuosity of Jimi Hendrix; the haunting tones conjure Tricky; the innovative production and engineering invite comparisons to studio mavericks like Todd Rundgren and Brian Eno; the multi-layered, complex harmonies flash on Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson; the dark, drama is reminiscent of both Scott Walker and Stevie Wonder; the complex arrangements create textures and moods with the feel of Shuggie Otis on Inspiration Information; the bold experimentation is akin to progressive artists like Faust and Tangerine Dream; the atmosphere is in conversation with Jeff Buckley’s Grace… and we could go on. That might all sound like marketing hyperbole, but not as far as Be With is concerned. It is a genuine wonder how an album this good could’ve passed so many people by.
But despite all the reference points, the similarities are really only skin-deep because the album sounds truly original. It occupies its own distinct, strange universe that feels dark and brooding one moment, bright and joyous the next. Ultimately, Taylor sounds like Taylor.
Although you wouldn’t know it from the credits, the album wasn’t the work of Lewis alone. Sabina Smyth gets an executive producer credit on the original sleeve, but in fact she worked with Lewis on the production and arrangements, did a lot of the backing vocals and she co-wrote Track, Song, Lucky and Damn with Lewis.
Lewis clarified all this in a Soul Jones interview with Dan Dodds in 2016. He explains how not giving Sabina the credit she was due at the time was an unfortunate consequence of where his head was at and he’s now trying to set the record straight.
Together they created an exquisite and sensually-charged record, with a freshness to the writing that makes the songs catchy, melodic-yet-deep and sometimes even funky. The music is predominantly guitar-led and a mixture of organs and synths, live drum loops and electronic percussion make for a sort of modern soul backing orchestra.
On the surface the album is gorgeously laidback, but beneath the lush, sometimes slick, production there’s a murkiness in the seriously gritty funk/hip-hop instrumentation. Lewis Taylor can be a claustrophobic listen. Even its one-word, often seemingly throw-away track titles add to the sense of unease. In its most positive moments, there’s still a sense that things aren’t quite right. The magic comes from this compelling tension.
The languid, strutting “Lucky” is a sensational opening statement. Sinuous electric guitar winds around the shaking percussion with a killer bass line rattling your bones, and Lewis’s voice is sublime. Its six-and-a-half unhurried minutes manage to distill the work of Marvin, Al Green and Bobby Womack because yes, it’s *that* good. Up next is the tough, dusty drum and jazzy, unsettling psych-guitar workout of “Bittersweet”. Aaliyah described it the “perfect song”, which says it all. By turns loping and soaring, tightly coiled and blasting free, 25 years on its discordant, swaggering majesty still sounds like future R&B.
The swinging, blue-eyed funk of “Whoever” oozes sophisticated sunshine soul for hazy days before “Track” sweeps in. The music tries to lift us up, beyond the reach of the vocals trying to drag us back down as Taylor sings “my mood is black as the darkest cloud”. The spare, dubby electro-soul of “Song” closes out the first half of the album with barely contained dread as it creeps towards the lush, synth-heavy coda.
The smouldering “Betterlove” eases us into the second half, coming on like a languorous response to the call of “Brown Sugar”, before sliding into the shuffling, softly-rocking “How”. Somehow the remarkable “Right” manages to both warm things up and smooth things out even more. Taut yet luxurious, it’s definitely not wrong.
“Damn” was to have been the album’s title track and you might also be able to hear its influence on D’Angelo’s Voodoo, maybe most obviously in the chaotic closing moments of “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”. Building to a screeching wall of noise that suddenly cuts dead, “Damn” sounds like the natural end to the album, with the celestial a cappella “Spirit” serving as a heavenly reprise.
When it came to the sleeve, art director Cally Callomon heard Taylor’s music as “sideways off-camera glances at a plethora of influences he had” and wanted to interpret that visually: “I went off into night-time London to see if I could find his song titles in off-beam low-fidelity photographs. I even found a shop called Lewis Taylor”. With a slide for each of the album’s ten tracks, nine of them are on the inner sleeve and the slide for “Damn” makes the front cover. It should’ve been the album’s title, but concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this.
One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, Andrew Lewis Taylor is an enigmatic figure and a hugely under-appreciated talent. A prodigious multi-instrumentalist who got his start touring with heavy blues/psych outfit the Edgar Broughton Band, he released two albums of psychedelic-rock as Sheriff Jack before Island signed him on the strength of a demo alone. But Taylor was destined to be one of those artists unable (or unwilling) to be pigeonholed and despite the best efforts of Island’s publicity department the music never sold in the quantities it needed to or deserved to. Island eventually let him go in the early 2000s and in June 2006, Lewis Taylor retired from music.
Typical for the mid-90s, this CD-length album was squeezed onto a single LP for its original vinyl release. Simon Francis’s fresh vinyl mastering now spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. The original artwork has been restored at Be With HQ and subtly re-worked to work as a double.
This sprawling psychedelic soul opus really is a forgotten should-be-classic. We know that there are those of you who know, and as for the rest of you, we’re a bit jealous that you’re getting to hear Lewis Taylor for the first time.
'Aquatic Flowers', the fourth full-length from beloved Nashville songwriter Tristen, brims with incisive pop-folk tracks ruminating on the ways we attempt to feel in control in a chaotic world, the past that informs us, and how to let go in order to grow. Making rock and roll music in Nashville, the mononymous songwriter has established herself as a prolific and introspective musician over the past decade. With a knack for crafting “hooky arrangements that tickle the ear and won’t leave your brain alone” (NPR), she has collaborated with artists like Vanessa Carlton (she co-wrote Carlton’s latest album 'Love is an Art') and Jenny Lewis (playing in the 'Voyager' touring band), and opened to critical acclaim for artists ranging from Robyn Hitchcock to Television. Tristen and her husband Buddy Hughen recorded and produced the record in their home studio Tight Squeeze. “I had a real desire to not overcomplicate things for this record, to get really close to what I have given in the past to my demos, which for me is the most inspired time of making something, right in the beginning, feeling it the most at that moment because you just wrote it and it’s on your mind.”
SWINGROWERS are an Italian quartet from Sicily. They have been at the forefront of the electro swing scene for many years but have evolved beyond it more recently. Their constant touring and festival appearances from Boomtown to Glastonbury's Avalon stage, from Tokyo's Blue Note club to tours in India and more have secured them a large international following while their YouTube videos regularly reach multi-million views. Starting as a DJ/Vocal duo with the debut album in 2012, via the 5 piece band on Remote (2014) to the current line-up on Outsidein (2018) they are now poised to release their best album yet and take things up another level.
HYBRID is a lyrically ambitious project held together by ecological themes but what really sets this apart is the brilliant melodic work of a tightly-knit group working perfectly together, plus exemplary musicianship in the gypsy guitar work and alto sax department, coupled with a gorgeous voice and brilliant, original production work. This album is their masterpiece. Usual support expected from previous supporters like Craig Charles and BBC 6 Music, but this album is also likely to reach out to a much wider audience than before. SWINGROWERS have also been lucky to have many significant syncs and this album is expected to generate many more. In particular future single and video WANNABE has the standout qualities of an anthem, concerning itself with female empowerment and individuality that will have wide appeal.
Who put the dance into Factory Records?”
Be With would like to refer you to FAC 59.
Working with founding member Tony Henry, we’re honoured to present the reissue of 52nd Street’s crucial debut single “Look Into My Eyes”, backed with “Express”. Originally released on Factory Records in Summer 1982, this ultra-rare 12" is a double-sider in the truest sense. Unrivalled Manchester jazz-funk-boogie-soul.
Both “Look Into My Eyes” and “Express” came out of a five day recording session in the spring of 1982 at Revolution Studios in Cheadle Hulme, just outside Manchester. Rob Gretton had just signed the band to Factory, snatching them from under the noses of RCA and WEA Records who had been sniffing around and seemingly ignoring Tony Wilson’s concerns that Factory might not be the right home for a black soul act. Rob clearly thought different.
The band of Tony Henry on guitar and vocals, bass player Derek Johnson, drummer Tony Thompson, lead vocalist Beverley McDonald and John Dennison on keyboards were put in the studio with A Certain Ratio’s drummer Donald Johnson producing the sessions. The band also found themselves with an interesting new member.
The back cover of the finished record credits synth F/X to a mysterious “Be Music”. Turns out that’s Bernard Sumner. Yes, that one. Tony Henry explains that bringing Bernard in was another part of Rob Gretton’s plan, “Barney was a real soul boy at heart and had always wanted to produce and work with black artists… with 52nd Street, he was an honorary member”. The results suggest he fit right in.
“Look Into My Eyes” squeezes so much aural pleasure into one side of a 12" single. A strutting, rich, soul-gliding funk with bass and guitar high in the mix above twisted, bubbling synths. Like Nile and Barney drenched outside the Haçienda that first summer. How can something be this liquid loose whilst sounding so, so tight? The hypnotic, naïve-cum-insouciant vocals from McDonald, backed by her fellas, only add to the track’s charm. Put simply, it sounds like nothing else.
On the flip, “Express” is sheer drama on wax. Tony’s opening lesson in good manners (“Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?”) sees us strapped in for a wild, chaotic, rhythmic ride. All bold keys, synth brass blasts, insistent bells and a galloping groove giving *that rush* atop a bassline to die for. No surprise it was a Frankie Knuckles favourite. Blistering heat.
The 12" was Paul Morley’s single of the week in the NME but his approval did little to get daytime radio play or to sell the record when it was released. It probably didn’t help that, in Tony Henry’s words, Factory were a label “notorious for not promoting their bands, not wanting any communications with the written press and not answering their office phones.” It came and went with none of the fuss that music this good deserved.
But in the near-40 years since they were released, these two tracks have gone on to become cult underground hits for those in the know. Of course that means those original 12"s have gotten rare and pricey. So here’s your chance to own this particular piece of post punk Factory Records funk.
But this record isn’t just a vital slice of Manchester soul history. Tony’s not shy about just how important he thinks the collaboration between 52nd Street and Bernard Sumner was: “this worked out quite well for us in the band but even better for New Order and Factory Records as Sumner studied grooves, rhythms and how to write and construct funk and dance music from 52nd Street and producer Donald Johnson”. You just have to listen to Blue Monday to hear what Bernard did when he started putting what he’d learnt into practice.
“Look Into My Eyes” and “Express” come from a chapter of the history of Factory Records that no-one seems to have gotten around to writing. Working with Tony to reissue the original 12" is the start of putting that right. The story of 52nd Street is more than just a footnote.
The Seeds of Fulfillment by David Drazin (November 2018)
Andrew Venson founded Seeds of Fulfillment (SOF) in early 1978. In the 1960s he had played electric bass with Arthur Conley, and later the original Peaches and Herb. On the same bill with Big Brother and the Holding Company, he hung out backstage with Janis Joplin. Yes! Vince was hoping SOF would get all of us to the top. He composed three tunes for the band, and we always had a ball playing them.
Roger Myers is a marvelous drummer. We co-composed Namaste. Roger would settle on a drum pattern of four measures at a time that he wanted to keep, and I'd put chords and melody right on top of his pattern. When he layered a second drum pattern on top of the first one, we'd get two melodies at the same time. We thought we were going to collaborate on more songs this way, but it didn't happen.
Lee Savory is a very inventive jazz man. He's musically literate, and wrote excellent transpositions. I remember Lee's asking for my input while he was composing Tight Squeeze, but it was clear he had it down. Once when I was visiting a DJ who played the album in a local radio station, the total of checks next to Tight Squeeze for number of plays was by far the highest!
Randy Mather's sax playing always knocked me out. I could hardly wait to hear him solo. When he left SOF to go with Woody Herman's orchestra it was amazing, but true.
Jeanette Williams had recorded 45s for the Duke and Peacock label when she was 17 years old. Her powerful singing was incredible to me. When we needed an original for Jeanette, Vince composed it, and Roger's wife Linda wrote the lyrics.
In 1978 I was in my senior year at Ohio State University when I met Vince. He came into a bar called My Brother's Place where I was playing with a trumpet player named Bobby Alston. When I was a freshman at OSU I'd played in an off campus band called Akadama. Before that I played in my home town of Cleveland, Ohio in the Brush High School Stage Band and a jobbing band called The Midnight Combo.
Everyone in the band contributed something to Egg Cartons in a composition jam session. We rehearsed in Vince's basement, and he had covered the walls with egg cartons to make the room sound more like a recording studio. The Provider was inspired by Country Preacher by Joe Zawinul. In those days I especially admired the way Zawinul would get his soulful feelings across, but also loved Herbie Hancock and to a lesser degree Chick Corea too. It took two years (with a break of several months) for the band to conquer Self-Fulfilling Prophecy. It shows you what consideration and dedication is, that ultimately they felt it was worth learning.
We recorded at Fifth Floor Studios in Cincinnati, Ohio. While we were there I got to shake hands with Bootsy Collins, who was recording in the rooms downstairs at the same time. Years later, Fifth Floor burned down and all the master tapes were destroyed.
