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1st pressing on Maroon coloured vinyl. Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Marroon coloured vinyl.

1st pressing on Maroon coloured vinyl. Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Formed in 2018, Brooklyn’s Gustaf have built a kind of buzz that feels like it comes from a different era. The art punk 5 piece rapidly established a reputation and early excitement about their danceable, ESG-inspired post punk expanded outside of their city with remarkable effect despite having released no recorded music and barely having an online presence. As a result of their magnetic live show the band found unlikely early champions, catching the attention of luminaries like Beck – who had the band open for him at a secret loft party he played around the release of his latest album – the New York no wave legend James Chance, and shared stages with buzzing indie acts like Omni, Tropical Fuck Storm, Dehd and Bodega, while word of mouth led to sell out shows when they played their first LA headline dates in late 2019. They finally released recorded music in the form of their debut 7 inch at the end of 2020, which only furthered the growth of their reputation, earning them comparisons to acts like Television, The Talking Heads, The B-52s and LCD Soundsystem. Now, the band release their debut LP, the magnificently titled Audio Drag For Ego Slobs, on Toronto’s Royal Mountain Records (Wild Pink, Alvvays, Mac DeMarco).

JOYFULTALK returns with its third album for Constellation; another vibrantly divergent stylistic take on the analog materiality and sensibility of electronic composer-producer Jay Crocker, whose previous two records forged trance-inducing polyrhythmic intricacy, each from a distinct angle and sound palette, each enlisting a single instrumental collaborator. Familiar Science rallies contributions from a larger cast of musicians into a looser, cosmic recombinant combo_still shot through with JOYFULTALK's singular mixing desk kinetics, but this time deep-diving into gnarled and twisted, spliced and diced out-jazz. Crocker draws inspiration from 1980s M-Base music and Ornette Coleman's harmolodic funk period, while his own prior history as an improv guitarist also resurfaces for the first time in many years_an element in this polyvalent artist's chemistry set that hasn't appeared prominently in his own music for over a decade. Familiar Science finds Crocker folding time (as lockdown will do), immersed in his present-day kaleidoscope of solitary art and music practices in rural Nova Scotia, while channeling his former life as a bustling jazz collaborator in Calgary, Alberta. Building outwards from roiling resampled acoustic drums, Crocker extracted additional sonic and rhythmic textures, then formed the head of each song using dusted-off archival recordings and his own bass, keys and midi sequencing. Albertan percussionists Eric Hamelin (Ghostkeeper, Chad Vangaalen) and Chris Dadge (Lab Coast, Alvvays) provided improvised drum tracks to be chopped and harvested; Nova Scotia-based Nicola Miller (Ryan Driver, Doug Tielli) laid down resplendent excursions on saxophone and flute; Crocker's own dexterous guitar appears on several cuts. Familiar Science also poignantly features samples from live recordings by the late Calgary saxophonisticonoclast Dan Meichel, catalysing some of the album's heaviest contortions. Crocker weaves all these raw materials into exuberant compositions that blur the line between sizzling corporeal combo and sampledelic futurist jamz, variously conjuring (leftfield) Flying Lotus, (later) Tortoise, BADBADNOTGOOD and Squarepusher's Music Is Rotted One Note. The rubbery hyper-compression of boom-bap opener "Body Stone" initiates the séance, and the album offers a panoply of skittering grooves and soaring melodic pathways thereafter, through quags of heady jazz alternately streaked with dayglo delirium and other more vaporous states of revelry. Crocker's own wordless stacked vocals are the giddy secret sauce on several cuts, and his lead guitar work (in kinship with the lean progressions of Mary Halvorson or Jeff Parker) features on "Take It To The Grave", "Stop Freaking Out!" and the album's title track. More honeyed passages on songs like "Blissed For A Minute" and "Ballad In 9" center around Miller's bouyant alto sax and flute. Familiar Science is a rousing feast of noise-tinged polychrome electronic avant-jazz: richly harmolodic compositions teeming with intersecting textures and turbulences; exploratory, exhilarated and indeed joyful.

Night Palace is a shocking alchemy: achingly intense nostalgia meets
frothy anticipation of what's beyond the garden wall - It's hard to believe Night Palace's first album Diving Rings is not a soundtrack to a different world - You find yourself picturing it: a moonlit-gilded diorama of frontwoman Avery Draut's dreams and memories

The album was recorded by engineer-producer Drew Vandenberg (Faye Webster, of Montreal), with additional engineering from Andy LeMaster (Better Oblivion Community Center, Azure Ray). The result is a unique brand of atmospheric pop, evoking artists like Broadcast, Alvvays, Vashti Bunyan & Mort Garson.

For Memory Pearl’s »Music for 7 Paintings« Moshe Fisher–Rozenberg traveled to art galleries throughout North America searching for paintings which would enrapture him.

Like the experience of being drawn into the worlds of those paintings, these seven tracks — each one directly referencing a single work by Joan Mitchell, Robert Ryman, Lee Krasner, Helen Frankenthaler, Franz Kline, or Jackson Pollock — are love letters to the sympathetic vibration of one creative mind encountering another. They trace the way art inspires and generates art. Each resonates with the reconstructive energy that comes from translating the visual to the auditory.

One might expect a jagged, alienating angularity, given the modernist and postmodern source material. Instead there is warmth and depth of sentiment, accented by the analogue and digital synth pitch–shifts and cascades. The pieces crackle with the energy of translation: something new is created as the medium changes, mediated across the boundaries of genre. There are associations, asides, tangents as each work is »read« into its new format. There is no alienation, no cold distance: only engagement and warmth. The album’s lead track, Natural Answer, 1976 opens with sounds that feel like the gaze being caught and drawn into an intimate emotional connection with a work. Cupola, 1958–1960 begins with a thickly layered wash of sound as nostalgic as a train ride through the outskirts of a city at night, then expands into a cavernous memory–scene of personal association.

Fisher–Rozenberg brings a vast experience to bear on the paintings that inspire »Music for 7 Paintings«. While this may be his debut full length as a solo artist, he is a consummate collaborator (Alvvays, Fucked Up, U.S. Girls, Youth Lagoon, Man Forever) best known as the drummer and synthesist in Absolutely Free. Also clear is his visual sensibility — his instinct for how to translate the emotive context of visual art into sound, honed in collaborative work on kinetic sculptures, immersive installations and film scores. But what most comes to the fore is perhaps his recent graduate work in music therapy, and the sensitivity learned through his leading of music therapy sessions at Toronto's Centre for Addiction and Mental Health. This direct encounter with music’s power to heal lends the tracks a sacred, therapeutic quality. They are suffused with curative frequencies that connect the isolated individual to a world of contemplative beauty.

»Music For 7 Paintings« catalogues the energy in the gaze of a seasoned musician, translating brushstroke to sound.

Formed in 2019, LA-based Cuffed Up were born out of a search for “self acceptance and self-realization”. Amidst a shared affinity for the ever-expanding global post-punk scene, vocalist and guitarist duo Ralph Torrefranca and Sapphire Jewell, bassist Vic Ordonez and drummer Joe Liptock breathe fresh life into the resurgent genre. The quartet’s latest EP, Asymmetry, saw the band pair up with producer Brad Wood (Touché Amoré, Smashing Pumpkins, Liz Phair) spending a week honing the songs through experimentation with sounds and ideas. The result is a collaborative effort that tackles one’s own mortality, abandonment in relationships and reckoning with shame. Now signed to Royal Mountain Records (Alvvays, Mac DeMarco, METZ, Wild Pink), Asymmetry expands on their refreshing self-titled debut that saw love from the likes of KEXP, NME, DIY, Bandcamp, and The Line Of Best Fit, as well as Steve Lamacq (BBC Radio 6), Daniel P Carter (BBC Radio 1) and John Kennedy (Radio X) and a supporting run with Silversun Pickups.

Bored At My Grandma's House is the moniker of 19-year old Leeds-based Amber Strawbridge, starting out as an exercise in passing time when she was quite literally bored at her Grandma's place. First single & EP opener 'Showers' is about time alone & listening to your mind - “Do you ever think of showers as like a new beginning?“ is a poignant opening line, about that therapeutic space for you to really think and let your thoughts surface. In Amber's own words "showers are a kind of therapy in my opinion, they give you time to reflect and think without influence from anything external."

Born in Whitehaven, Cumbria to musical family, and raised on the likes of Bowie & Pink Floyd there was always plenty of opportunity to mess around on the various instruments lying around the house. Attempts at proper music lessons went awry as Amber shunned the rules & rigidity, and so instead she gradually taught herself piano, guitar & drums. After time travelling in Cambodia, teaching English & helping with projects in various villages, Amber stayed with her Grandma & began to use the aeons of spare time to make tunes on Garageband & upload them to soundcloud. As a wave of BBC Introducing support rolled in, coupled with a move to Leeds to study music, the bedroom set-up evolved & a full EP began to take shape.

Playing all the instruments & self-recording most of the EP at home, Amber took the tracks to Alex Greaves (Working Men's Club, Bdrmm) at the Nave studio for live drums & some final mixing flourishes, leaving an EP full of lo-fi charm but with a studio feel.  Inspired by Slowdive, Wolf Alice & Alvvays, Sometimes I Forget You're Human Too showcases Amber's singular vision of indie-pop, on an EP that deals with topics like humanity, nostalgia & the current refugee crisis.

Speaking on the EP title Amber says "Sometimes I forget you’re human too is the realisation that everyone is the same. In the sense that we are all human, everyone has issues and problems to face, everyone makes mistakes and has success. I used to compare myself to others a lot and think ‘wow they have their life together’ or ‘how are they so happy all of the time’ but that’s not the case it’s just what you can see on the outside ...so it’s kind of an EP of self assurance and reminding myself that it’s ok to not have it together all the time because no one does as we’re all just human after all"

The EP is just the start for Bored At My Grandmas House "I’ve already got a few tracks which I’m thinking could be potentially for an album, I’d definitely like to do a bigger project next and have the sound I’d like in mind. I’ve recently just got a band together so hopefully when live shows are resurrected I’ll have a few of those!" 2021 is looking to be anything but boring for Amber Strawbridge.