Cerca:working happily

2025 Reissue.



Münchenbuchsee, a suburb of Bern, Switzerland. Stephan Eicher is the youngest of three children. His father, a radio and TV repairman, is also a jazz violinist and a sound tinkerer in his spare time. In the family home's converted fallout shelter turned studio, Mr. Eicher experiments with homemade sequencers, tortures handcrafted drum machines, and abuses reel-to-reel tape recorders—all under the fascinated gaze of young Stephan.

The boy quickly develops a musical curiosity, exploring sound through various experiments and wanderings. Alongside his younger brother Martin, Stephan crafts audio plays on a homemade multi-track recorder (essentially several cassette decks hooked together!), which they write, record, add sound effects to, and perform for family and friends. Just a couple of nice kids, really...

Then comes 1972, and Lou Reed's Transformer album changes everything for the Eicher kids. For 13-year-old Stephan, it's a revelation—especially "Vicious", the opening track, which he plays on repeat for months. He convinces his father to buy him an electric guitar. Not stopping there, his father also builds him a tube amp using an old radio.

Then comes adolescence. A rough one. Stephan leaves home at 16 and moves to Zurich. With obvious artistic talent, he persuades his art teacher to help him get into F+F, a radical, alternative art school—despite his young age. Accepted, he starts learning video techniques, determined to become a filmmaker.

At F+F, Stephan organizes Dada-style happenings and concerts with a group of friends known as the Noise Boys. Among them: one of his teachers on bass, Veit Stauffer on drums (who would later found ReR/Recommended Records), his girlfriend Sacha on vocals, and Stephan on guitar. In one of their early performances, they release a remote-controlled mouse covered in dull razor blades into the audience to create panic and chaos. Keeping with this aggressive, confrontational spirit, they once played a concert while wearing headphones blasting Tristan and Isolde, trying to perform their own songs simultaneously—to maximize the cacophony. The goal was always the same: clear the room.

Their “songs,” if you can call them that, followed suit. Take "Hungeriges Afrika", for instance—performed entirely with power drills and some drum feedback.

To make ends meet, Stephan returns to Bern on weekends to work as a waiter at the Spex Club, the city’s main punk venue. On September 16, 1980, during a show by proto-electro group Starter, the police raid the club and arrest everyone. Stephan, who manages to avoid arrest, seizes the opportunity to “borrow” Starter’s gear left behind. He suddenly finds himself in possession of a Roland Promars synth, a Korg MS20, and a gorgeous CR78 drum machine, which he runs through a Big Muff distortion pedal to get that perfect gritty sound.

He then sets out to reinterpret some Noise Boys tracks, reworking them during impromptu sessions recorded on a dictaphone (yes, a dictaphone—now the lo-fi sound makes more sense, doesn’t it?). He ironically titles the resulting cassette "Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys" ("Stephan Eicher plays Noise Boys"). This gem features seven tracks, which are the ones reissued here.

Back in Zurich, he visits his friends Andrew Moore and Robert Vogel, who have a DIY cassette duplication setup. They make 25 copies of Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys for Stephan and his friends. Robert encourages him to visit Urs Steiger of Off Course Records and play him the tape.

Without much hope, Stephan shows up at Urs’s office. But Urs is instantly hooked and suggests releasing a 7” single. Due to space constraints, they reluctantly drop two of the seven tracks ("Hungeriges Afrika" and "One Second"). As for the musical score featured on the cover—it was randomly chosen and remains a mystery to this day. Calling all music theory nerds!

The 7-inch is pressed in 750 copies and released in the first week of December 1980—a date Stephan remembers well, as it’s the same week John Lennon was killed. Smartly, Urs sends a promo copy to François Murner, Switzerland’s answer to John Peel, who hosts a show on alternative station Sounds. Murner falls in love with the record and starts giving it airtime. To Stephan’s surprise, sales follow—and people actually seem interested in his music.

Even this modest underground success scares Stephan a bit. He stops making music for a year and moves to Bologna, where he works as a programmer at Radio Città, a feminist radio station.

Meanwhile, Stephan’s younger brother Martin, who’s also involved in the punk scene, joins the band Glueams as a singer and guitarist. Glueams, named after the fanzine run by two of its members (drummer Marco Repetto and bassist GT), eventually rebrands as Grauzone. Stephan is invited to their shows to project hacked Super 8 visuals live on stage.

Urs Steiger, now working on a compilation titled Swiss Wave – The Album, asks Grauzone to contribute alongside bands like Liliput, Jack and the Rippers, The Sick, and Ladyshave (Fall 1980).

For the album, Martin tasks Stephan with producing their recording sessions. Under Stephan's artistic direction, two tracks emerge: "Raum" and "Eisbär". During "Eisbär", Martin plays a minimalist bass line borrowed from post-punk band The Feelies (just an open string). Drummer Marco Repetto struggles to keep time. Later that evening, unhappy with the takes, Stephan builds a four-bar drum loop from a ¼-inch tape and uses it instead of the flawed original. He then adds bleepy synths and wind sounds to complete the track’s icy vibe before handing it over to Urs.

The Swiss Wave – The Album compilation is released quietly at first, but things snowball thanks to "Eisbär", which eventually becomes a smash hit—selling over 600,000 singles.

Meanwhile, Stephan plays in a rockabilly band called SMUV (named after Switzerland’s social security agency) and begins producing artists, including the debut album of Starter (1981), which includes a more pop-oriented version of "Minijupe".

By early 1982, Stephan starts spending time with the post-punk girl band Liliput (formerly Kleenex). They’re older than him, and he happily drives them around in his Renault Major, acting as their roadie.

By 1983, Grauzone—signed to the major label EMI, which turned out to be a misstep—is falling apart. Stephan begins to pivot toward a more mainstream pop sound with his debut solo album Les Chansons Bleues.

But that... is already another story.

The perfect accompaniment to that deep fall feeling, Frank Maston's beloved 2025 single finally gets its long overdue vinyl release! As our friends New Commute articulated beautifully, "Foreign Affairs" drifts through London fog and Paris shimmer, its avant-lounge glow wrapping each melody in a wistful ache. On B-side "Liaison," ghostly strings and a solitary piano paint a deserted twilight shoreline, Pacôme Henry's distinct 16mm cinematography hovering nearby." We've pressed just 500 of these gorgeous records so, be quick, Maston always flies.

Originally written for a film Maston was scoring in 2024, he decided to keep it aside for himself. And, well, us all. The song has a vibe Maston has previously flirted with; he wanted to dive in...all the way: "The arrangement is huge, definitely the biggest I've written, and it merited live musicians playing together. Also another experiment, to do it with all live musicians playing my arrangements. I wanted to make something that you'd want to put on when you bring a date back to your place. It's on the edge of sappy but that's sort of the point. I decided to give myself an unlimited budget - just spend whatever was necessary to get the right musicians and record it the best way possible."

It's this dedication to sonic perfection which Maston is rightly lauded for. We couldn't not put this on a cute wee 7" when we heard it.

The A side, "Foreign Affairs", is a brilliant, Bacharach-esque romp with a bit of that unapologetically romantic Morricone angle. Says Frank: "I was trying to synthesize that sort of jazzy/sexy/classy/romantic mature sound, where the edginess is in these surprising chord changes and subtle arrangement cues."

A wonderful complement, the flipside "Liaison", evokes Martin Denny, but Eden's Island was in Frank's head, too. He wanted to take a deep dive into that exotica sound - a genre he'd referenced a bit but never fully committed to - so the piece is lavished with those big sighing strings and a pretty lush arrangement. Happily, it all sounds super rich. Also, "Umiliani is always a reference for this sort of thing (Il Corpo etc.), That almost mechanical arrangement of things moving together and a simple melody over it (something I nicked from Ennio)".

The two songs were recorded in Paris and London in the summer of 2024. Aside from the rhythm section and piano, there's vibraphone, a full string section, trombones and alto and concert flutes. "Liaison" boasts strings, vibraphone, a female choir and tenor sax. Maston played piano and acoustic guitar but that's it (as opposed to playing basically everything on Tulips). His friend Oscar Sholto Robertson played drums and percussion whilst Maston mainstay Elie Ghersinu (formerly of L'Eclair) played bass.

The theme for a lot of Maston's titles is that they have two meanings. So "Foreign Affairs" is both a reference to him living abroad and the idea of constant cultural diplomacy and then there's this sexy/cheeky interpretation of foreign affairs in a literal way - "an affair abroad, ooh la la!". The artwork for this 7" single has Roman campaign flags, referencing the foreign affairs in sort of a sassy way. There's a violence implied. But then if you look from a bit of a distance it looks like a bouquet of flowers. So Frank thought it went with the spirit of the title. Also, he's used a lot of roman motifs now so he kept that theme going, even with the terracotta cover.

This is a vitally important project for our Frank. He explains why, here: "For whatever reason, these songs really resonated with me. I feel like they are either the end of a stylistic era for me or the beginning of a new one. They're sonically the culmination of what I'd been working towards and trying to get better at since I started. If I heard this when I was making Tulips I would have said "YES! *This* is what I want to be doing!". So that's the essence of it. It's a statement and the intended reaction is "This is really good, but why now?". Like the edge to it is the context of someone making this sort of thing in 2025, which I think is a huge strength. The real heads will get it. My music always has like a 2-3 year latency until people really catch onto it, and these ones will have a nice payoff I think."

We couldn't put it better ourselves. So we haven't.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

As a founding member of Dublin experimental folk group Lankum, Ian Lynch explores submerged leylines of music and song. Forging a musical path that is all at once dark, mysterious and foreboding, but ultimately transcendental. His new solo project One Leg One Eye sees him taking a fresh approach to musical arrangement culminating in a sound that is more rooted in the raw aesthetics of second wave black metal than contemporary folk. The project was born across 2021, a period in which Lynch was able to enjoy the freedom of experimenting and exploring different paths of sound design without expectation or pressure. Seeking out interesting settings to record music and gather field recordings, there are several environments, external and interior, whose respective essence have seeped into the spirit of the music and come to represent Lynch’s artistic approach and development with this singular debut album, …And Take The Black Worm With Me. Rediscovered spaces in Dublin and the familiar enclave of his bedroom are intrinsic to the distinct and sometimes harrowing atmosphere conjured throughout the album’s five enveloping compositions. One particular location, an abandoned factory where his father worked when Ian was a child, provided a space of great inspiration and intrigue during this time. Lynch frequently visited the large abandoned warehouse and sang with his shruti box, contented in his solitude. ‘I’d Rather Be Tending My Sheep’, grew into existence from those initial sessions, eventually finding a home as an emotive centrepiece to the album. Reflecting on the overall recording of …And Take The Black Worm With Me, Lynch says, “Everything I was doing with these songs was all kind of new to me; experimenting with different sounds, textures and palettes and seeing what I could come up with by piecing it all together. I spent about a year making the album. I loved the whole process because it was basically just me in my bedroom recording everything. The experience of recording like this and having my own time to do it was amazing. I could focus on recording a specific element and happily spend all day working on that one part, doing it as many times as I wanted. At the end of the day if it didn’t feel right, I could just try it again the next day. When you’re on your own you can spend as much time as you want on particular parts until you feel that it’s absolutely perfect. I found that to be a really liberating experience. It was probably my favourite experience recording music.” The collection of songs (and their chronology) featured on …And Take The Black Worm With Me tell a story unique to Lynch’s experiences with anxiety and recognising his shadow self. Whilst the album became an outlet of personal expression for Lynch, the overarching themes and subsequent journey to confront one’s internal dichotomy of light and dark before accepting this inherent duality is universally shared. The eerie and often unsettling world contained within the album’s texturally dense opener ‘Glistening, She Emerges’, driven by the captivating drone of distorted uilleann pipes, immediately immerses the listener in this transportive work. It descends with a great heaviness, yet woven throughout the arrangement is a fascinating and indescribable entity that draws you further into this otherworldly dimension. This mood continues as the tracklist progresses and transitions into Lynch’s haunting realisation of ‘Bold and Undaunted Youth’ which further demonstrates a cinematic influence to Lynch’s compositional style. Sonically, Lynch effectively builds an impressively vast terrain with brilliantly murky lo-fi recording techniques and an unshakable curiosity to move beyond conventional structures and play with the timbre of the instruments available to him. From recording hurdy-gurdy or concertina to tape and experimenting with loops and effects pedals to stitching field recordings together, there’s an intimacy established between Lynch and his audience established through the simultaneously eerie and beautiful tones courting through …And Take The Black Worm With Me. This culminates in ‘Only the Diceys’, the extraordinary closing track in which we reach a place of resolution mapped into the album’s narrative structure. Mixed by longtime collaborator John ‘Spud’ Murphy in his Dublin-based Guerrilla Sounds Studio and mastered by Harvey Birrell …And Take The Black Worm With Me features contributions from Ruth Clinton (Landless) on church organ and vocals by Laurie Shanaman (Ails, Ludicra). Of Shanaman’s participation, in particular, which further illustrates the lo-fi and DIY ethos to the recording, Lynch says, “Laurie is my favourite black metal vocalist of all time and so I reached out to her hoping to have her involved in some way. She did, and she features on the opening track by providing some incredible screams. She recorded them into her phone and sent them over to me; what appears on the album is literally a phone recording of her screaming in her kitchen!” …And Take The Black Worm With Me continues Ian Lynch’s groundbreaking work with Lankum; recontextualising traditional forms and generating new spheres of music in his wake, confirming his status as one of the most interesting and innovative artists working in Ireland today.

Having haunted stages across the UK for the best part of a decade, the critical success of their 2024 sophomore full-length `Acts of Harm' gave caustic shoegaze outft Outlander pause to refect on their astounding 2019 debut, `The Valium Machine', soon to be reissued by Pelagic Records on vinyl for the frst time. Written and recorded in 2018 over a handful of studio sessions in Stoke-on-Trent, `The Valium Machine' was a formative experience for Outlander in more ways than one. Prior to working on the album, the band would happily describe themselves as your standard, straight-down-the-middle post rock band but an openness to new infuences from the `90s slowcore and shoegaze scenes, the delicate, textural introduction of vocals and the pivotal decision to track the album in sprawling, full-band takes lead Outlander to fundamentally redefne their sound and scale; adding a pointed sense of dynamic and discordant dirge that lead to the four-piece sharing stages with trailblazing genre heavyweights Bossk and Grivo as well as breathtaking performances at festivals like Dunk! (BE) and ArcTanGent (UK). With beautiful artwork produced in partnership with street photographer Richard Lambert documenting the colourful, everyday life of their beloved Birmingham, the initial run of `The Valium Machine' was limited to a criminally small 50 CDs through tiny local imprint FOMA. Now, fve years later, Outlander owe their panoramic pace and formidable, funereal sound to those few days spent in Stoke- on-Trent and the band, along with Pelagic Records, believe this nascent recording deserves to be heard by many, many more. FOR FANS OF: Duster, Codeine, Swervedriver, Catherine Wheel, Kowloon Walled City

Having haunted stages across the UK for the best part of a decade, the critical success of their 2024 sophomore full-length `Acts of Harm' gave caustic shoegaze outft Outlander pause to refect on their astounding 2019 debut, `The Valium Machine', soon to be reissued by Pelagic Records on vinyl for the frst time. Written and recorded in 2018 over a handful of studio sessions in Stoke-on-Trent, `The Valium Machine' was a formative experience for Outlander in more ways than one. Prior to working on the album, the band would happily describe themselves as your standard, straight-down-the-middle post rock band but an openness to new infuences from the `90s slowcore and shoegaze scenes, the delicate, textural introduction of vocals and the pivotal decision to track the album in sprawling, full-band takes lead Outlander to fundamentally redefne their sound and scale; adding a pointed sense of dynamic and discordant dirge that lead to the four-piece sharing stages with trailblazing genre heavyweights Bossk and Grivo as well as breathtaking performances at festivals like Dunk! (BE) and ArcTanGent (UK). With beautiful artwork produced in partnership with street photographer Richard Lambert documenting the colourful, everyday life of their beloved Birmingham, the initial run of `The Valium Machine' was limited to a criminally small 50 CDs through tiny local imprint FOMA. Now, fve years later, Outlander owe their panoramic pace and formidable, funereal sound to those few days spent in Stoke- on-Trent and the band, along with Pelagic Records, believe this nascent recording deserves to be heard by many, many more. FOR FANS OF: Duster, Codeine, Swervedriver, Catherine Wheel, Kowloon Walled City

"Miranda Winters, as the voice of Chicago’s much-loved noisemakers Melkbelly, has spent the past few years happily in her own shadow. While she has quietly written and occasionally released her own music for 15 years, Winters finally steps out into the bright light with the release of Lawn Girl, the debut album under her Mandy moniker.

The album, a combination of older songs and newer creations, feels positively and endearingly alive–like a freeing of pent-up energy, an intimate rebuilding of the self. While Winters recorded and produced a number of the songs herself, she worked with Taylor Hales at Electrical Audio to feed those songs back into the studio, where they were re-recorded with room mics and worked back into the original versions. “I see it like photocopying,” she says of the process. “I’ve always loved working with photocopying and related printing techniques in my visual art because of the way everything decays and falls apart. It was nice to honor that on the record.”

Performed by an all-women band–Linda Sherman (guitar), Lizz Smith (bass) and Wendy Zeldin (drums)–the songs on Lawn Girl suitably find Winters ruminating on the idea of femininity; about her mom (who graces the album cover) and being a mother herself; her female friends; and what it means and what is required to make art and music in a female space intentionally."

Kate NV's WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling them across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life. WOW is Kate Shilonosova's fourth full-length release as Kate NV in six years, and third for RVNG Intl. Her prolific musical output aligns with a highly attuned aesthetic and a deep commitment to visual world building. WOW is one of many of these worlds in which music is fully saturated with color, deeply tactile and textural. Shiny, sproingy, plastic. Where Room for the Moon embraced structure (abstractly speaking) and veered pop, WOW happily abandons conventional song shapes, parsing the experience of musical time into ecstatic fragments. It's difficult to imagine a more fitting album title: pure exclamation, an organic pitch of delight leaving the mouth, with no clear etymological links. On Room for the Moon, Shilonosova's voice was layered and lyrical, with sweeping and urgent melodies. WOW finds her as a peripheral purveyor of high jinks, peeking out from the corners, commenting on her surroundings in non-verbal, and arguably non-human, utterances. Instead of employing lyricism, Shilonosova steps outside of language, and rewards us with a gum ball machine of textures: soda fizz and wind-up teeth and scraps of bubble wrap become comically huge, as if heard from an insect's perspective. Words are tasty plosives, onomatopoeias, percussive chirps and one-liners, and singing serves as another form of what Shilonosova refers to as "funny tiny sounds." WOW skews and skitters, trips over its own feet and laughs about it, plays out of tune on purpose, tilts and leans like a top-heavy flower. Shilonosova is a longtime user of Found Sound Nation's Broken Orchestra sample pack, a sound catalog of over one thousand dilapidated instruments sourced from Philadelphia public schools. These perfectly imperfect instruments are tightly spliced into WOW's patchwork of synthesizer and reworked snippets of Shilonosova's friends playing clarinet, flute, and marimba. It's central to the record's internal logic: a disregard for what is, and isn't, broken, what is, and isn't, a sentence or a song. A commingling of subject and object, with a firmly new wave sensibility. Shilonosova has long had an unusual relationship with inanimate objects (citing her bicycle as her best friend), as if the joys they evoke for her are personality traits of the objects themselves. On WOW, she evinces a kind of inverted anthropomorphism: she shrinks her voice and becomes an object among multitudes, toylike in size and perspective, cohabitating with sedentary, indifferent roommates. This pursuit of childlike perspectives is a thread that runs through much of her catalog, and places her work on a plane with that of her personal hero Nobukazu Takemura, who for decades has treated his music as a portal to childlike curiosity, both in subject matter and tone. With an invitation to pursue this curiosity, WOW further confirms Kate NV's deeply inventive, fluid and technically dizzying artistry. By refusing constraints and rules, Shilonosova embodies a profound freedom, allowing objects, sounds, and processes to unfold organically; or, as she puts it, a commitment to "accepting randomness." She succeeds terrifically at a breed of auditory defamiliarization that is all her own, and the rewards for listeners are many: through her lens, the small becomes monstrous, the abstract becomes sensorial, and the old becomes new. Kate NV's WOW will be released on February 10, 2023 on vinyl and digital formats. On behalf of Kate NV and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit War Child, an organization that supports children and their families impacted by conflict, and working to build sustainable peace for generations to come.

Yellow Vinyl

Kate NV's WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling them across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life. WOW is Kate Shilonosova's fourth full-length release as Kate NV in six years, and third for RVNG Intl. Her prolific musical output aligns with a highly attuned aesthetic and a deep commitment to visual world building. WOW is one of many of these worlds in which music is fully saturated with color, deeply tactile and textural. Shiny, sproingy, plastic. Where Room for the Moon embraced structure (abstractly speaking) and veered pop, WOW happily abandons conventional song shapes, parsing the experience of musical time into ecstatic fragments. It's difficult to imagine a more fitting album title: pure exclamation, an organic pitch of delight leaving the mouth, with no clear etymological links. On Room for the Moon, Shilonosova's voice was layered and lyrical, with sweeping and urgent melodies. WOW finds her as a peripheral purveyor of high jinks, peeking out from the corners, commenting on her surroundings in non-verbal, and arguably non-human, utterances. Instead of employing lyricism, Shilonosova steps outside of language, and rewards us with a gum ball machine of textures: soda fizz and wind-up teeth and scraps of bubble wrap become comically huge, as if heard from an insect's perspective. Words are tasty plosives, onomatopoeias, percussive chirps and one-liners, and singing serves as another form of what Shilonosova refers to as "funny tiny sounds." WOW skews and skitters, trips over its own feet and laughs about it, plays out of tune on purpose, tilts and leans like a top-heavy flower. Shilonosova is a longtime user of Found Sound Nation's Broken Orchestra sample pack, a sound catalog of over one thousand dilapidated instruments sourced from Philadelphia public schools. These perfectly imperfect instruments are tightly spliced into WOW's patchwork of synthesizer and reworked snippets of Shilonosova's friends playing clarinet, flute, and marimba. It's central to the record's internal logic: a disregard for what is, and isn't, broken, what is, and isn't, a sentence or a song. A commingling of subject and object, with a firmly new wave sensibility. Shilonosova has long had an unusual relationship with inanimate objects (citing her bicycle as her best friend), as if the joys they evoke for her are personality traits of the objects themselves. On WOW, she evinces a kind of inverted anthropomorphism: she shrinks her voice and becomes an object among multitudes, toylike in size and perspective, cohabitating with sedentary, indifferent roommates. This pursuit of childlike perspectives is a thread that runs through much of her catalog, and places her work on a plane with that of her personal hero Nobukazu Takemura, who for decades has treated his music as a portal to childlike curiosity, both in subject matter and tone. With an invitation to pursue this curiosity, WOW further confirms Kate NV's deeply inventive, fluid and technically dizzying artistry. By refusing constraints and rules, Shilonosova embodies a profound freedom, allowing objects, sounds, and processes to unfold organically; or, as she puts it, a commitment to "accepting randomness." She succeeds terrifically at a breed of auditory defamiliarization that is all her own, and the rewards for listeners are many: through her lens, the small becomes monstrous, the abstract becomes sensorial, and the old becomes new. Kate NV's WOW will be released on February 10, 2023 on vinyl and digital formats. On behalf of Kate NV and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit War Child, an organization that supports children and their families impacted by conflict, and working to build sustainable peace for generations to come.

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

The full-length debut from Bendigo Fletcher, Fits of Laughter is a collection of moments both enchanted and mundane, sorrowful and ecstatic: basking in the beauty of a glorious lightning storm, waking with a strand of your beloved’s hair happily caught in your mouth, drinking malt liquor while bingeing “The X-Files” on a lonesome Saturday night. As lead songwriter for the Louisville, KY-based band, frontman Ryan Anderson crafts the patchwork poetry of his lyrics by serenely observing the world around him, often while working his grocery-store day job or walking aimlessly in nature (a practice partly borrowed from the late poet Mary Oliver). When matched with Bendigo Fletcher’s gorgeously jangly collision of country and folk-rock and dreamy psychedelia, the result is a batch of story-songs graced with so much raw humanity, wildly offbeat humor, and a transcendent sense of wonder.

True to its spirit of purposeful wandering, Fits of Laughter unfolds in a wayward yet lushly detailed sound, embroidered with everything from crystalline harmonies to blistering guitar riffs to heady drum-machine beats. For help in forging the album’s ragged elegance, Bendigo Fletcher worked with producer Ken Coomer (the original drummer for Wilco and Uncle Tupelo), whom Anderson met in a flash of strange serendipity. Soon after he’d connected with Coomer via phone and bonded over a shared affection for Pink Floyd’s Obscured by Clouds, the band headed to Nashville to record in Coomer’s garage studio, laying down the album’s eight songs in nine frenetic days.

In keeping with the regional perspective that defines much of folk and country music, Fits of Laughter ponders certain paradoxes inherent in the band’s homeland. “In Kentucky there’s a long-running frustration of tradition and stubbornness versus progress,” says Anderson. “On one side you’re looking at things like the coal industry or Mitch McConnell, but then there’s also a feeling of togetherness and a fuck-the-man attitude and a loving desire for everyone to be left alone.” Referring to Fits of Laughter as a coming-of-age album, Anderson also examines a more internal conflict throughout the songs, including his choice to abandon his medical-school aspirations in favor of pursuing a career in music. “The title’s really about the spectrum of emotions I’ve felt on the way to finding what makes me feel like I’m living truthfully, rather than holding onto what I think other people’s expectations are of me,” he says. “It’s a phrase that bridges all of those emotions—everything from joy to hysteria.”

Lisa Milberg and Jon Bergström started their band Miljon over a pitcher of margarita in Mexico City and have since kept busy writing gorgeous little pop-songs in makeshift studios in and around their hometown of Stockholm, Sweden – mostly in their bedrooms and various cabins in various woods surrounding the city, never staying too far from the pine trees.
Having assembled a collection of 13 pieces of proper flaskpost-disko, these demos were passed on to Studio Barnhus’ in-house mixmaster Matt Karmil, who worked his studio magic on the recordings, turning them into a seductively warm and spacious debut album. “Until then, our only expenditures for the album were wine bottles and taxis”, says the band.
This isn’t the first time Miljon has teamed up with Studio Barnhus, the ever-explorative Stockholm dance label. The band collaborated with Barnhus co-founder Axel Boman on the wistful piano-house ballad “Forgot About You” in 2018 (“a summer anthem … a marvel of simplicity” - Pitchfork) and the label’s core personnel are all regulars at Arranging Things, the design store (“Stockholm’s coolest” - Vogue) that Lisa runs with another friend.
Going further back, Miljon isn’t the first musical project of neither Lisa’s nor Jon’s – the former enjoyed her fair share of 00's indie rock success as drummer and eventually lead singer of The Concretes, while Jon has earned a reputation as the hardest working man in several Swedish music scenes, bringing energy and expertise to punk stages around the country as well as Stockholm’s electronic underground.
With Miljon, the two friends make sure to keep it short and sweet, happily celebrating imperfections. “We believe in ‘first thought, best thought’ and try to work on the songs as little as possible, instead trusting a good melody and a nice vibe, not overthinking it. We dare you to find a bridge on this album!”
With “Don’t They Know”, the duo presents not only 13 beautiful songs (perfect for shower-humming, living roomshuffling and warm summer night boombox-blasting alike) but also an album that turns into something grander than the sum of its parts.
“We made it because it’s the kind of album we’ve been wanting to hear ourselves. It’s all quite song-centric these days and it feels rare to find a whole album to step into and stay inside, you know? We hear great songs all the time, but we wanted an album that was its own little universe, with its own mayor, own happy hour, its own yard sales and extramarital affairs.”
“Don’t They Know” is released through Studio Barnhus as a vinyl LP June 18.

A near-perfect record, White Magic was the lauded CD-only debut album by Sorcerer (Californian native Dan Judd, one half of Windsurf with Hatchback). Just in time for Spring/Summer, we present the first ever vinyl issue, released as a deluxe double LP.

Back in summer 2007, this majestic set gently nestled itself into the Balearic soundtrack-to-summer slot for many, making him a household name for Cosmic Disco heads alongside the likes of Lindstrom, Metro Area, Todd Terje, Mudd, Studio and Quiet Village. In the intervening years, exceptional producers have created vibrant variations on the dreamy, dubby, melodic nu-disco theme. Happily, the emergence of such luminaries as Jex Opolis, Harvey Sutherland, Suzanne Kraft, Tornado Wallace et al has only served to make the master - Sorcerer - sound ever more brilliant and vital.

Utilising his array of guitars, drum machines, synths, and trusty MPC, the loved-up Sorcerer sound inspires halcyon memories of warm days, endless sunsets and pure youthful abandon. Influenced by surf, 80s dance pop, acid-R&B, space jazz, krautrock, disco, dub, and am radio gold, his music maps a tour through a uniquely Californian lifestyle. Yet when music so vividly captures a vibe and a feeling, it can make writing about it appear almost redundant. Instead, to glean the full colour of what your turntable will soon gratefully radiate, we prescribe the generous soundclips presented here.

And, for a unique insight into the process behind the wonderful sounds conjured up, here's Sorcerer himself:

"White Magic is a reflection of personal freedom and discovery. Having been in bands for years, this was a chance to develop music that stood alone and for me to be in full control.

I was living alone and worked on jams whenever I could. I was highly inspired by a new openness to music as a pure inspiration, not being part of any scene. I tapped into the mixes I was hearing coming out the UK where deejays were playing "cosmic" sounds that were so strangely familiar.

I was picking up all kinds of $1 vinyl and throwing bits of it into my sampler almost randomly to see what would come out.

In my mind, I was making music to be played at my friend's Broker/Dealer Pop nights where they fused golden German techno sounds with the new disco emerging at the time. Also, I took vacations and reconnected with the Pacific Ocean where I spent so much time as a kid: it spilled out into the sounds.

Lastly, I forged a partnership with Hatchback (Sam Grawe) who was working on music in the same way. I learned so much about arrangement and the colors of music. We began recording together as Windsurf and released our own stuff. It all seems like a small glorious moment in time, so I am so excited to keep the legacy alive and I continue to work on my music with these spirits inside of me."

Lovingly remastered by the esteemed Simon Francis, cut reassuringly loud on to heavyweight double vinyl and presented in a deluxe gatefold jacket with freshly commissioned artwork throughout from original designer Rich Robinson, this limited edition of 500 copies is sure to fly.

children are laughing and playing in the back, a baby screams happily: handsome field recordings welcome the listener to the final chapter of fred p's fp-oner trilogy for mule musiq.
the opening tune is called smiles, so children's laughter fit the mode. the idea is that smiles and cries are natural for children and as they grow to adulthood the reality becomes more, therefore the duality of life itself is obvious in the mood of the song.
the new york city native that is working on his very own music for almost 20 years explains about the beginning of his new album that features eleven tunes for deep meditative club use and beyond.
it brings the listener house music full of cosmic realities, odd jazzing moments, japanese spoken word pop, synth spheres for ambient use and an overall outer-national atmosphere, that handsomely dances between roughness and subtle tuned in deepness.
i chose to base this project on numbers in order to impart a bit of depth and substance. 5, 6 and 7 have a meaning in both the literal and esoteric sense. we as a species are a combination of matter and energy, so it is a matter of relating the two in harmony.
my experience as an artist expresses this. it's like a testimony to the human condition and how we relate to treat and mistreat one another. this view is the base of a philosophy that is close to me, be-cause art imitates life.
so rather than doing a project that highlights ego posture, my intent is more about what can i give to the listener. as a human being, as an artist, what can i share it's a part of a philosophical tug of war that goes a lot deeper than the expectation of what one might think a dance album or rather an elec-tronic music album should be.
it's food for thought, not candy and a soft drink, but real substance that stays with you.he reveals about the profundity of his trilogy. at large it is a journey inward, compelling, mesmerising and en-chanting.
for the final chapter fred p mostly produced in his studio in berlin on various synths and with a bunch of mysterious samples, all later organized and programmed in ableton. this project has a beginning mid-dle and end. the record 5 was intended to introduce a meditative energy within a rhythmic construct as the number 5 represents the dynamic and unpredictable.
the whole album carries the energy of that ilk. the album 6 is of an earthly and more harmonious dis-cord. i attempt to bring the inner conflict in the form of natural unnaturalness. the raw energy of the search in this project i think is self explanatory, which is the point i believe to show how flawed one can be but express very specific themes honestly.
finally, with 7 my goal is to merge the two into balance, as one focused state of mind as 7 is the thinker beyond understanding or beyond the illusion. this is my hope people take away from this: a feeling of growth, optimism and positive energy. we are dealing with vibrations every person resonates with, so the idea is where do you want to take that
what do you want to do with that as an artist you can do some good or some harm. for me i choose to give the best that i can and i hope that the people that participate get a sense of that.' true words by a kind and gentle soul that loves to speak in music.
they explain much and then leave things in the dark too, as he basically says: let the music play. so listen deeply, open your doors of perception, dance the atomic mess around, stay small, be true and don't forget: fp oner's music is a traveling zone with a universal meaning. it can mean many things to different people. but thus is the purpose of art.