quête:a new line

All tracks from 2021 transfers and newly remastered - LP editions include a booklet featuring unseen photos and liner notes by Lenny Kaye, plus contributions from Nick Cave and Devendra Banhart // Karen Dalton's 1971 album, In My Own Time, stands as a true masterpiece by one of music's most mysterious, enigmatic, and enduringly influential artists. Celebrating the album's 50th anniversary, Light in the Attic is honored to present a newly remastered (2021) edition of the album on LP, CD, cassette, and 8-Track. All audio has been newly remastered by Dave Cooley, while lacquers were cut by Phil Rodriguez at Elysian Masters. A newly expanded booklet-featuring rarely seen photos, liner notes from musician and writer Lenny Kaye, and contributions from Nick Cave and Devendra Banhart-rounds out the CD (32-pgs) and LP (20-pgs) packages.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Belgian junk jazz trio schroothoop (which translates as 'junk yard') bring together multi-instrumentalists Rik Staelens (wind & string instruments), Timo Vantyghem (bass & thumb piano) and Margo Maex (percussion). Their new album called 'MACADAM' will be out April 7 via Sdban Records, home of many strongholds in the lively contemporary Belgian jazz and groove scene.

In 2020, schroothoop first emerged with their much-acclaimed and infectious debut album Klein Gevaarlijk Afval (Small Hazardous Waste). "Music on homemade instruments with a surprisingly good result" (De Standaard). "Schroothoop show that material limitation can be liberating and that sometimes the source of new sounds is just old junk."(Written in music). "We assure you that this "scrap heap" is worth gold!" (Le Grigri).

On their second album, to be released on April 7, schroothoop explore the vast sounds of discarded objects found on the macadam streets of Brussels. Wooden crates turn into guitars and lyres. Scrap metal becomes a thumb piano, a cimbalom, or percussion bells. Their compelling collection of semi-improvised songs is born out of several fruitful residencies and live performances during which Margo Maex, Rik Staelens and Timo Vantyghem dive deeper into the possibilities and unique timbres of their DIY instruments.

The junk jazz trio find inspiration in traditional Afro-Cuban and North-African rhythms, New Orleans second line grooves, and Arabic Hijaz scales. On Macadam, the band also explore the realms of electronic music, not shunning hints of drum and bass, dub riddims and ambient soundscapes, using pitch shifting delays or gauzy reverbs. The album delivers a mesmerizing trip through the most diverse capital of Europe, mixed and post-produced by none other than sound wizard Dijf Sanders.

The trio originally met in the Brussels street orchestra scene. One night they found themselves jamming on trash cans, buckets and other illegally dumped materials. Soon after, they started building their own DIY instruments from street trash. Imagine flutes made out of pvc pipes, a scrap metal drum kit, thumb pianos made out of old kitchen knives, a tin can violin, worn-out cutting discs as gongs, and a washtub bass. Delivering their own brand of "junk jazz", Schroothoop literally gives junk a second life by immortalizing a whole range of lost and found objects through music. The Brussels-based group effortlessly incorporates jazz, Northern African music, and Afro-Cuban rhythms, resulting in a danceable and hypnotic trip through the city's melting pot.

Belgian junk jazz trio schroothoop (which translates as 'junk yard') bring together multi-instrumentalists Rik Staelens (wind & string instruments), Timo Vantyghem (bass & thumb piano) and Margo Maex (percussion). Their new album called 'MACADAM' will be out April 7 via Sdban Records, home of many strongholds in the lively contemporary Belgian jazz and groove scene.

In 2020, schroothoop first emerged with their much-acclaimed and infectious debut album Klein Gevaarlijk Afval (Small Hazardous Waste). "Music on homemade instruments with a surprisingly good result" (De Standaard). "Schroothoop show that material limitation can be liberating and that sometimes the source of new sounds is just old junk."(Written in music). "We assure you that this "scrap heap" is worth gold!" (Le Grigri).

On their second album, to be released on April 7, schroothoop explore the vast sounds of discarded objects found on the macadam streets of Brussels. Wooden crates turn into guitars and lyres. Scrap metal becomes a thumb piano, a cimbalom, or percussion bells. Their compelling collection of semi-improvised songs is born out of several fruitful residencies and live performances during which Margo Maex, Rik Staelens and Timo Vantyghem dive deeper into the possibilities and unique timbres of their DIY instruments.

The junk jazz trio find inspiration in traditional Afro-Cuban and North-African rhythms, New Orleans second line grooves, and Arabic Hijaz scales. On Macadam, the band also explore the realms of electronic music, not shunning hints of drum and bass, dub riddims and ambient soundscapes, using pitch shifting delays or gauzy reverbs. The album delivers a mesmerizing trip through the most diverse capital of Europe, mixed and post-produced by none other than sound wizard Dijf Sanders.

The trio originally met in the Brussels street orchestra scene. One night they found themselves jamming on trash cans, buckets and other illegally dumped materials. Soon after, they started building their own DIY instruments from street trash. Imagine flutes made out of pvc pipes, a scrap metal drum kit, thumb pianos made out of old kitchen knives, a tin can violin, worn-out cutting discs as gongs, and a washtub bass. Delivering their own brand of "junk jazz", Schroothoop literally gives junk a second life by immortalizing a whole range of lost and found objects through music. The Brussels-based group effortlessly incorporates jazz, Northern African music, and Afro-Cuban rhythms, resulting in a danceable and hypnotic trip through the city's melting pot.

7A Records are proud to announce the 50th Anniversary
Edition of Michael Nesmith’s “Pretty Much Your Standard
Ranch Stash” album. The LP version is pressed on 180g
opaque grey vinyl and comes in a gatefold sleeve, includes
extensive liner notes and session details by Andrew
Sandoval and lyrics to all of the songs. Also included is a
bonus track, the 1973 alternate version of “Marie’s Theme”.

The Album:
Nesmith’s time with the Monkees was well and truly in the
rear-view mirror and he needed a new place to live and
work. He caught the ear of Jac Holzman, head of Elektra
Records, and a path forward miraculously appeared.
Realising that most of the record companies at the time
didn’t understand Country Rock, Nesmith convinced
Holzman to start a new label, Countryside. Nesmith would
run the label, put together a ‘house band’ and produce
albums by various up and coming country artists.
Unfortunately, most of the new label’s releases didn’t make much of an impression and Nesmith soon started to
contemplate his own music again. Aided by the power of his Countryside house band, he quickly crafted Pretty Much
Your Standard Ranch Stash, a full and final RCA album. Despite its commercial sheen, Ranch Stash wasn’t a success saleswise and it became the closing remark to a heavy chapter in Nesmith’s life, a final “adios” to Monkee Mike, to the cosmic
cowboy, and to his family, as he moved further on up the trail.

7A Records are proud to announce the 50th Anniversary
Edition of Michael Nesmith’s “Pretty Much Your Standard
Ranch Stash” album. The LP version is pressed on 180g
opaque grey vinyl and comes in a gatefold sleeve, includes
extensive liner notes and session details by Andrew
Sandoval and lyrics to all of the songs. Also included is a
bonus track, the 1973 alternate version of “Marie’s Theme”.

The Album:
Nesmith’s time with the Monkees was well and truly in the
rear-view mirror and he needed a new place to live and
work. He caught the ear of Jac Holzman, head of Elektra
Records, and a path forward miraculously appeared.
Realising that most of the record companies at the time
didn’t understand Country Rock, Nesmith convinced
Holzman to start a new label, Countryside. Nesmith would
run the label, put together a ‘house band’ and produce
albums by various up and coming country artists.
Unfortunately, most of the new label’s releases didn’t make much of an impression and Nesmith soon started to
contemplate his own music again. Aided by the power of his Countryside house band, he quickly crafted Pretty Much
Your Standard Ranch Stash, a full and final RCA album. Despite its commercial sheen, Ranch Stash wasn’t a success saleswise and it became the closing remark to a heavy chapter in Nesmith’s life, a final “adios” to Monkee Mike, to the cosmic
cowboy, and to his family, as he moved further on up the trail.

Like many debut solo albums from musicians in bands, Jared Mattson’s Peanut didn’t originally come from a need to break away. As a composer for the Mattson 2, Jared Mattson was working up a batch of new songs through the winter of 2019-2020, looking ahead to the next album he and brother Jonathan Mattson, the blitzkrieging drummer, would record. As the pandemic hit stateside, Jared holed up in his home studio and kept developing the new music. And during that process it became increasingly clear to them that this wasn’t shaping up to be the next Mattson 2 album. This was a Mattson 1 album.

Jared had been absorbing the guitar work on records by reggae stalwarts Aswad and Burning Spear, and also the Police’s Andy Summer and the ways he gives songs space. And Jared wanted a prominent bass sound, too, where the guitar itself sometimes settles into the passenger seat so that the bass can drive. Lyrically, the album taps into our rattled world, where anxiety, loss, violence, and regret are sometimes pierced by the promise of love. The time spent working on the album was a profoundly introspective time as he reflected on past relationships while living through and writing during the pandemic, he also never lost sight of this truth about himself: Life is great with music.

One of the album’s standout highlights is “Burn Down Babylon,” which is propelled by the bass’s funk-you-say groove. You don’t often encounter many pop songs with so blunt an opening line as, “I got punched in the face last night by a neo-Nazi,”—a true experience that was delivered many years ago in a bar brawl in Carlsbad, California. But to hear the music that goes along with this tale manages a vibe that is less melee and more backyard jubilee.

When “Please Come Here,” with an intro that slinks along like a Cadillac on a Sunday morning drive, kicks in, it’s typical of the album’s melodic pop flourishes, but the twist here is that the vocals are in Japanese (The Mattson 2 have toured Japan 20 times and covered many Japanese pop songs on 2018’s Vaults of Eternity: Japan). Ween’s “She Wanted to Leave” is the lone cover, but the way Jared reimagines the song makes it fits seamlessly within the album’s sonic template. The song’s inclusion was also a personal way to honor one of Jared’s best friends, who died from cancer two years ago. The two had always bonded over the song and marveled at its inherent beauty. Ultimately, Mattson’s solo debut unfolds like a string of fascinating clouds: These are not songs in a hurry; they shift around as they float by, and, most notably, they carry their unique kind of electric charge.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Remastered Deluxe-Ausgabe von Braids legendärem Album 'Frame & Canvas' (1998) zum 25-jährigen, ein genredefinierendes Grundnahrungsmittel und laut Rolling Stone US Rang #5 der Top40 Emo-Alben aller Zeiten. Im neuen Mix von Originalproduzent J. Robbins (The Promise Ring, Against Me!). Braids Einfluss auf zahlreiche Bands und DIY-Szenen, die in ihrem Gefolge entstanden sind, ist enorm und unbestritten. Silberfarbenes Vinyl im neuen Packaging mit zusätzlichen Linernotes von jedem einzelnen Bandmitglied.

Platform 23 again explores to the dense voids, this time with a touch of the funk, with a reissue of Dutch experimentalists De Fabriek and two tracks from their "Music For" cassette series, this time calling all Hippies.

Featuring both original and reinterpretations from modern-day heads, Dunkeltier and Khidja, this double-pack is something of an oddity, showcasing the bands' expansive range, moving away from the noise, drone and industrial soundscape releases they had become known for and crafting here, free flowing, groovy longform jams.

Active since the late 70s to today, De Fabriek (The Factory) have never considered themselves a real band - being also a label too - with an evolving and irregular line up centred around Richard van Dellen, they present their music and output as a kind of work-union.

With literally four decades and dozens of releases across all formats, 1988's cassette release, 'Music For Hippies', has become something of a cult curio, with the long improvisational tracks, Lullabye and Coming Down eschewing the rougher, industrial experience for something completely different.

In opener Lullabye, we go full leftfield P-Funk meets Motorik undertones. An incessant beat is laid from the start and doesn't cease for over 10 minutes, while spoken vocals call closer to the Krautrock realms of Can and hark to Liebezeit's stylised grooving best.

Analog, echo washed, with touches of glam and wrapped in simple effects pedal work, the secrets are passed to Dresden / Berlin inhabitant Dunkeltier aka Sneaker DJ aka Thomas Smorek. His darker moniker, appearing on obscure edits for Macadam Mambo and the much-missed Bahnsteig 23, his 'Hey Robot' mix adds bass, percussion, strings and synth to remold Lullabye into a late night, red light, basement denzien. This is followed by an additional, bonus reimagining, creating an all-new time piece, an ear worm of the best kind with Tik Tok Goes The Clock.

The second slab presents in Come Down, a more resembling De Fabriek werk. Edited to fit, the darkness is entered as snapshot vocal quips, oscillations and synthesised mutations are laid over a lazy, relentless ostinato rhythm where cymbals crash on the bar. Inviting, calling, De Fabriek's aptly titled downer is in fact, a joyous journey.

To complete, label affiliates, Khidja take a break from finalising their debut album to unfold their 'Psychebabble Mix', a dozen plus minutes of warped, twisted, cassette machinations that suck the listener further along the trip. Added bass propels their edit suddenly to a new direction, a hook for mind and for the open willed, the body. De Fabriek's "coming down lullabye" arriving on vinyl for the first time, with a twist and shake, calling deeper to acceptance.

Emotional Rescue is delighted to debut a first. Rather than a straight reissue of an (obscure) classic or a collection of music by an artist or label, here presented is a compilation of various artists centered around a sound and movement reggae-tinged music and how it influenced and spread from the Caribbean and diaspora.

Drawn from the off kilter digging of archivist, DJ and collector Bruno (perfectliv.es), Nowhere Like Here is not a follow up, but a sideways accompaniment, to his recent and already cult like 'Perfect Motion' collection of left field pop and new wave, recently self-released with Flo Dill (NTS).

This is a special release to celebrate the label's 10th year and beyond, offering a treasure trove of lo-fi and often pop inspired reggae cuts, mixing heartfelt Lovers Rocks style paeans and quirky private press oddities, all guaranteed to 'make-a-move and tap', these are, in the main ridiculously rare or impossible to find alternative bombs, that are just as sound system rocking and massive bass line quaking showcases of the enduring legacy of this Jamaican music phenomenon.
As with much of the early 80s period, the music community was in the throes of a Do-It-Yourself cultural renaissance as small labels, where crazy limited, one off White Labels Onlys came and went. Songs like Avalanche 's 'Your Love is Such a Good Thing 'or Warp Speed's 'Take It To The Night' were part of the claiming the means of production in to their own hands, pressing up the records and self-distributing. This raw, naive exuberance can be heard in the songs themselves. This is not reggae or Lovers as known, but something more expressive. Musical, simply produced, but with intelligible and uplifting optimism that is just superlatively catchy.

While Paul Thompson's 'Can I Take You Home' and Ras Ibuna's 'Black Beauty' are more straight-ahead Lover's style cuts, there is the parallel dance pop private pressing vibrations of the two Keith Robinson songs and Majority's 'Caroline' included all part of a thread; a joining the dots that Nowhere Like Here is at its most basic, a warmth the whole album exudes.

This is not a Lovers Rock Hits of some, but a left-of-center versioning, spread across Double Pack and cut loud for DJ play, fitting the ethos of Emotional Rescue by presenting something most will not have heard before and all the better for it.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

In the same line as volume 01, this format Sauvez Wheelie wishes to give the opportunity to the Lyon-based producers to have releases on vinyl. After Funktroid, Sauna, Cymka & Mid on the ¦rst opus, we have a new luxury cast for this 2nd part with Lost In Material, Sela, Hyas & Botwin. A new V.A of 4 tracks with rave vibes between acid, trance, garage sounds and mental stuff.

The Allergies hook up with The Pharcyde's Bootie Brown on their brand-new slab of throwback rap, 'Stanky Funk'. It's a match made in hip-hop heaven, with The Allergies channelling classic early 90's boom bap beat business. Beefed up lo-fi funk loops, neck-snap drums, cuts and rumbling bass lines provide the backbone for a legend to get busy over.

'Never Gonna Let Go' is on the B-side – a funky up-tempo breaks-heavy banger that sees The Allergies twin monster samba samples with roots reggae vocal rips, for full dance-floor destruction.

Over the past 20 years, The New Pornographers have proven themselves one of the most excellent bands in indie rock. The group’s ninth album and first for Merge establishes them alongside modern luminaries like Yo La Tengo and Superchunk when it comes to their ability to evolve while still retaining what made them so special in the first place. A dazzling and intriguing collection of songs, Continue as a Guest finds bandleader A.C. Newman and his compatriots Neko Case, Kathryn Calder, John Collins, Todd Fancey, and Joe Seiders exploring fresh territory and shattering the barriers of their collective comfort zone. Newman began work on Continue as a Guest after the band had finished touring behind 2019’s In the Morse Code of Brake Lights. Themes of isolation and collapse bleed into this album, as Newman tackles the ambivalence of day-to-day life during the COVID-19 pandemic. But Newman says that Continue as a Guest’s title track also addresses the concerns that come with being in a band for so long. “The idea of continuing as a guest felt apropos to the times,” he explains. “Feeling out of place in culture, in society, being in a band that has been around for so long—not feeling like a part of any zeitgeist, but happy to be separate and living your simple life, your long fade-out.

Living in a secluded place in an isolated time, it felt like a positive form of acceptance: find your own little nowhere, find some space to fall apart, continue as a guest.” Newman discovered new vocal approaches within his own talent. There are new and rich tones to Newman’s voice throughout Continue as a Guest, from his dusky lower register over “Angelcover” to his slippery slide over the glimmering synths of “Firework in the Falling Snow,” to bold tones he embraces on the soaring “Bottle Episodes.”

Another sonic change comes courtesy of saxophonist Zach Djanikian, whose tenor and bass luxuriate all over Continue as a Guest’s alluring chassis, especially on the menacing build of “Pontius Pilate’s Home Movies.” Along with Newman’s usual collaborators, several songwriters contribute. The bursting opener and first single “Really Really Light” is a co-write with Dan Bejar (Destroyer, the New Pornographers). Then there’s “Firework in the Falling Snow,” a collaboration with Sadie Dupuis of Speedy Ortiz and Sad13. “I was feeling like I wanted some help, so I sent it to Sadie and she sent me back this complete song that had these great lyrics,” Newman says. “She included the line ‘A firework in the falling snow,’ and I was like, ‘Yeah, that’s great.’ Sometimes you need that one thing to center the song, and even though I only used a few lines of hers in the end, I couldn’t have finished it without her.”

Even as Newman embraces a collaborative spirit more than ever, Continue as a Guest is a testament to his ability to discover new artistic sides of himself. “I started out as a songwriter more than as a singer, but at some point, you have to sing your own songs,” he says with a chuckle. “For a long time, I felt like the idea of changing a song because I couldn’t hit a note wasn’t okay—I could just get someone else to sing it. But I’m learning now that my songs can actually be a lot more malleable than I thought.” And it’s in that spirit that Continue as a Guest sounds like a thrilling path forward for The New Pornographers, with songs that generate a contagious feeling of excitement for the future as well.

Porto-based trio 10 000 Russos will release their new ‘Live In Berlin’ double LP on March 24th 2023 via Rubber Duck, a new live album imprint by Fuzz Club Records. The record captures the band storming through their subterranean motorik psych-drone live at Berlin’s Astra Kulturhaus on October 16th 2021. Recorded whilst out on a European tour, ‘Live In Berlin’ finds 10 000 Russos performing their 2021 ‘Superinertia’ LP in full the album’s five songs expanded and taken to even more transfixing and hedonistic heights in a live setting. These shows were 10 000 Russos’ first with the new, more-electronic line-up and sound, with newly-recruited synth player Nils Meisel making his debut on the ‘Superinertia’ LP and completing the line-up alongside founding members João Pimenta (drums/vocals) and Pedro Pestana (guitar). Across the hour-long set, Pimenta’s deadpan sprechgesang vocal and machine-like percussion, Pestana cascading psych guitar-loops and Meisel’s repetitive synth basslines all combine on a performance that will pull you into a trance at times and get you on your feet at others.

Born in Milan to a Cameroonese father and a Polish/Lithuanian mother, Nathan Dawidowicz moved at the age of 6 to Jerusalem. He was spending his childhood in a Jewish ultra-orthodox environment playing the piano and dreaming of being a Fashion designer and musician. After waking up from the reality he was raised in, he moved to Venice and started to explore the "outside world" of the mental barriers of religion. Music and fashion were his medicine, and he quickly became addicted to musical textures and vinyl. His love for music brought him quickly to Berlin, where he currently lives and loves.

Sanctuary Of Ideas is a very personal and optimistic journey by Nathan Dawidowicz. His first solo album is a spiritual path, as cosmic and adventurous as Nathan`s trajectory, with beautiful twists and psychedelic twirls into Dawidowicz personal rabbit hole. A record full of memories and positive affirmations, filled with Jazzy yet psychedelic Cosmic and Krautrock elements. A fusion of inspiration - and a perfect reflection of Dawidowicz heritage.

Idea`s Eve is a stargate to our ancestral power. The source of our inspiration is connected to our past - to the spirits of our ancient memories. Dawidowicz leaves a lot of space to breathe in this magical opener. Enchanting melodies and bubbling sounds surround the listener while his voice keeps repeating a mantra of an ancient love spell. A track where you feel your DNA spiraling up the ladder of evolution. Yet so natural and healing.

Full Moon Dance is the spiritual continuation of the first track. A swirl of magical melodies, yet jazzy but truly cosmic walking up the ladder to another dimension, where warm moon rays and fluffy clouds surround love. The synth lines represent the playful and smooth moon rays reflected on a rhythmical heart-beating ground where tears can be joyfully spent to honor the emotions we usually oppress.

To close the EP, Nathan Dawidowicz worked a half a year to finalize the last track in full detail. 23 Minutes and 18 Seconds long is the Capricorn Rising Over Jerusalemite Temple. This story is where the listener is brought to a higher level of consciousness. Against the rules of our consumerist world, Nathan Dawidowicz focuses on a dramaturgy full of patience for our own lifetime. Acidic lines come and go, powerful synth solos trigger unknown brain parts, and an epic melody accompanies the listener and lets dark emotions melt in a brass-filled part where a voice tells us that time is on our side. The song ends with an epic twist and promises a new start, where our most lovely memories stay in a vortex of light. Beam me up Nathan.

Public Image Ltd. (PiL) will release Hawaii on 7” limited edition vinyl on 31st March. The release follows an incredibly brave and well received performance on The Late Late Show Eurovision Special on Friday 3rd February, in which John Lydon’s heartfelt emotions were visibly on show.

The track is the most personal piece of songwriting and accompanying artwork that Lydon has ever shared. The song is a love letter to John's wife of nearly 5 decades, Nora, who is living with Alzheimer’s. A pensive, personal yet universal love song that will resonate with many, the song sees John reflecting on their lifetime well spent and in particular one of their happiest moments together in Hawaii. The powerfully emotional ballad is as close as John will ever come to bearing his soul. “It is dedicated to everyone going through tough times on the journey of life, with the person they care for the most,” John says. “It’s also a message of hope that ultimately love conquers all.” Celebrating their 40-year anniversary in 2018, Public Image Ltd. haven’t been going quite as long as John and Nora, however, the band is widely regarded as one of the most innovative and influential bands of all time.

PiL’s music and vision has earned them 5 UK Top 20 singles and 5 UK Top 20 albums. With a shifting line-up and unique sound - fusing rock, dance, folk, pop and dub – Lydon guided the band from their debut album First Issue in 1978 through to 1992’s That What Is Not, before a 17 year hiatus. Lydon reactivated PiL in 2009, touring extensively worldwide and releasing two critically acclaimed albums This is PiL in 2012 followed by their 10th studio album What The World Needs Now… in 2015, which peaked at number 29 in the official UK album charts and picked up fantastic acclaim from both press and public. (The album also peaked at number 3 in the official UK indie charts and number 4 in the official UK vinyl charts). What The World Needs Now… was self-funded by PiL and released on their own label ‘PiL Official’ via Cargo UK Distribution. John Lydon, Lu Edmonds, Scott Firth and Bruce Smith continue as PiL. They are the longest stable line-up in the band's history and continue to challenge and thrive. PiL will be releasing their new album ‘End Of World’ this year. Details to be announced soon…

“Uncharacteristically soul-bearing” - Pitchfork

“a swooning, poignant ballad awash with memories of happier times… He’s remarkably tender as he croons: “Don’t fly too soon / No need to cry, in pain / You are loved.” It’s the vulnerability that is most striking. Lydon’s love for his wife shines through like sunrays breaking through clouds, casting everything in a golden light: “I remember you,” he reassures her. He’s backed by harmonising chants of “aloha”, the Hawaiin term that is both a greeting and a farewell. It’s a message from the heart, overflowing with spirit and compassion. What better word for what Lydon is trying to convey here?” - The Independent

“a beautiful and rueful ballad written by 66-year-old Lydon to his wife Nora, who suffers from Alzheimer’s. It’s a peach of a track: both pensive and personal, it reflects on one of their happiest times together in Hawaii. “Remember me/ I remember you… You are loved,” not-so-Rotten sings over a lush soundscape of gently twanging guitars vaguely reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac’s Albatross.” - Telegraph