Cerca:angel dust

L.A. Witch haben schon immer eine Aura müheloser Coolness ausgestrahlt, sei es in Form des Americana Noir und des lakonischen Back-to-Basics-Rock'n'Roll ihres selbstbetitelten Debüts oder des glühend strengen Abenteurertums ihres zweiten Albums "Play With Fire". Die Band - bestehend aus Sade Sanchez (Gitarre/Gesang), Irita Pai (Bass) und Ellie English (Schlagzeug) - begann als informelle Angelegenheit, aber die schwülen und betörenden, von Hall umhüllten Songs, die sie schufen, fanden beim Publikum Anklang und brachten das Projekt über den isolierten Raum von Freunden und Gleichgesinnten in Südkalifornien hinaus in die weite Welt. Auf ihrem neuesten Album "DOGGOD" geht das Trio über die bisherigen kreativen und geografischen Grenzen hinaus - das Material wurde in Paris produziert und die Tracks im Motorbass Studio in der Rue de Martyrs aufgenommen. "DOGGOD" erkundet ein breiteres klangliches Terrain, setzt ein größeres Arsenal an Sounds ein und erforscht größere existenzielle und kosmische Themen, ohne dabei den für die Band typischen Sinn für das Verbotene, das Verlassene und die Vorahnung zu verlieren. "DOGGOD" ist ein Weg, das universelle Rätsel der spirituellen Natur von Liebe und Hingabe anzugehen. "Ich habe das Gefühl, eine Art Dienerin oder Sklavin der Liebe zu sein", sagt Sanchez. "Ich bin bereit, für die Liebe zu sterben, indem ich ihr diene, für sie leide oder nach ihr suche - so wie ein treuer, ergebener Diensthund es tun würde." Der Titel des Albums ist ein Palindrom, das DOG und GOD zusammenfasst - eine Verherrlichung des Unterwürfigen und eine Subversion des Göttlichen. Es ist eine Anspielung auf die Reinheit von Hunden und eine Anerkennung ihrer bedingungslosen Liebe und ihres beschützenden Wesens, die im Widerspruch zu den verschiedenen abwertenden Assoziationen stehen, die mit dieser Spezies verbunden werden. "Es gibt diese symbolische Verbindung zwischen Frauen und Hunden, die die untergeordnete Stellung der Frau in der Gesellschaft zum Ausdruck bringt", erklärt Sanchez. "Und alles, was solche göttlichen Eigenschaften verkörpert, hat es nicht verdient, als Schimpfwort benutzt zu werden." Diese widersprüchlichen Erkundungen von Liebe und Unterwerfung manifestieren sich in der sanften und rauchigen Garagerock-Alchemie der Band, mit einer neu entdeckten Nutzung der disziplinierten Zurückhaltung und eisigen Instrumentierung des Post-Punk. Der Album-Opener "Icicle" zeigt, wie L.A. Witch aus dem Proto-Punk, der Psychedelia und den düsteren Riffs der 70er Jahre in die von Refrains durchtränkten Gitarren und den verlorenen Minimalismus von Joy Division und den frühen The Cure reist. Es wird eine Parallele zwischen romantischem Selbstmord und Märtyrertum gezogen, die sich im zweiten Song, "Kiss Me Deep", fortsetzt. Hier beschreibt Sanchez eine Liebe, die so rein ist, dass sie die Zeit übersteigt und sich über mehrere Leben erstreckt. Es ist ein Lied über Leidenschaft, vorgetragen mit dem weltlichen und verletzten Stoizismus der frühen Goth-Pioniere. Von dort aus geht die Band zur Leadsingle "777" über, einem Song über Hingabe bis hin zum Tod. Ein treibender Beat, ein treibendes, verzerrtes Riff und Sanchez' ätherischer Gesang vereinen sich zu einem Song, der sowohl düster in seinem Fatalismus als auch sinnlich in seiner treuen Leidenschaft ist. Auf dem gesamten Album "DOGGOD" weichen L.A. Witch nie von ihrer Muse ab. In "I Hunt You Pray" legt Pai einen hypnotischen Basslauf hin, während English einen zyklischen Krautrock-Groove einsetzt und Sanchez das Bild eines verlassenen Hundes am Straßenrand malt, der allein in der Nacht ist und sowohl als Jäger als auch als Gejagter lebt. Auf "Eyes of Love" macht sich die Band die meditativen Mid-Tempo-Wiederholungen, dekonstruierten Akkorde und esoterischen Betrachtungen über Liebe, Tod und Spiritualität zunutze, die Lungfish zu einer so beliebten Band gemacht haben. Es unterstreicht die Parallele zwischen der unerschütterlichen Liebe in den Augen eines Hundes und der Selbstaufopferung eines Erlösers. Auf "The Lines" nimmt die Band den treibenden Puls des Post-Punk und fügt dem Mix eine Extraportion Chorus hinzu. "Chorus ist ein moderner Effekt, der auf der Idee beruht, die leichten Tonhöhenunterschiede eines Chors nachzubilden. Es gibt eine schimmernde Qualität, die uns zurück zu diesem spirituellen, göttlichen Gefühl bringt", erklärt Sanchez. Gepaart mit dem Einsatz von Orgel und einer grüblerischen Moll-Melodie, beschwört der Song gleichzeitig das Heilige und das Sakrileg. Der Titeltrack "DOGGOD" hat vielleicht die größte Ähnlichkeit mit dem Material des Vorgängeralbums "Play With Fire", in den schlanken und gemeinen Gitarren auf eine raue Rhythmusgruppe und verträumten Gesang treffen. Aber während ihr vorheriges Album ein Aufruf war, seinen eigenen Weg zu gehen, bleibt "DOGGOD" dem "Bis dass der Tod uns scheidet"-Thema des Albums treu und geht sogar so weit, ein Maß an Unterwerfung zu beschreiben, das in gefährliche und ungesunde Gefilde übergeht, wobei Sanchez singt "hang me on a leash / `til I wait for my release". Letztendlich ist "DOGGOD" eine perfekte Verkörperung des Ansatzes von L.A. Witch. Es ist gleichzeitig romantisch und bedrohlich, ehrfürchtig und profan, eine Feier und ein Klagelied. Es spannt den Bogen zwischen Vergangenheit und Gegenwart, indem es vertraute Klänge aufgreift und sie für die Jetztzeit aufbereitet. Aber es läutet auch eine neue Ära für die Band ein, die über die Kodachrome-Erinnerungen an das Amerika der Jahrhundertmitte hinausgeht und tiefer in den mittelalterlichen und gotischen Energien von Paris und darüber hinaus gräbt, während sie gleichzeitig ein besudeltes Herz erforscht.

LP 1 is Original Reissue, LP 2 is the Instrumentals. This album, originally released in 2019, was highly lauded with esteemed praise, topping many Album Of The Year lists inlcuding NPR, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Time Magazine. This vinyl has been out of print and in high demand, repress is restricted to limited quantities and will be out of print again in under a year. Now includes a 2nd LP featuring the never before available Hiding Places instrumentals from Kenny Segal. Fully produced by Kenny Segal, (Project Blowed, Kenstrumentals beat tape Series, Happy Little Trees). LP has unique gatefold artwork by Myra Musgrove and features custom “oakwood” coloured vinyls. Hiding Places is a collaborative album from Brooklyn-based rapper billy woods and Los Angeles beat scene veteran Kenny Segal. As a label, we at Backwoodz take a lot of pride in our physical products; in creating original artwork that will stand the test of time, and in issuing limited-pressings that stay limited. We had always resisted repressing a piece of vinyl and even when the demand for Hiding Places built to a fever pitch during 2019, we stuck to our guns. Still, by the end of the year, as the AOTY nominations kept rolling in, we knew that we needed to do something. But we also were determined not to sacrifice the uniqueness of that first pressing. So we decided to commission all-new artwork, and press up the instrumentals as well and put it all together as a GATEFOLD 2XLP. So, on top of the best album of 2019, you get Kenny’s incredible instrumentals, available on wax for the first time! On its face, it seemed an unlikely pairing; woods who moonlights as ½ of dissonant rap duo Armand Hammer is a chaotic force, the warped relic of an NY indie-rap wave that never happened. Meanwhile, Segal has been in L.A. for twenty years; from paying dues with Project Blowed to pushing the culture forward with Busdriver and Milo. All the while, his soulful, dreamlike production precariously tethered to earth by the right drums or rumbling bass. But look closer and it makes more sense. After all, Segal lent his production to a couple of songs on Paraffin, Armand Hammer’s critically-acclaimed opus, and the two artists have more than a few shared collaborators: Open Mike Eagle, ELUCID, and Hemlock Ernst amongst them. Hiding Places finds both artists deep in the labyrinth. Segal’s lush soundscapes have a new edge, woods’ writing is, paradoxically, at its most direct. Hiding Places is a child’s game: funny and cruel, as brutal as a fairy tale. The album features familiar names from both artists’ well of collaborators with ELUCID, Self-Jupiter, Blockhead and MOTHERMARY making contributions.

Sophie Löw alias SOPHIA BLENDA ist Multiinstrumentalistin, Songwriterin und Sängerin der Band CULK. Bereits auf ihrem ersten Soloalbum "Die Neue Heiterkeit" (2022) stemmte sich die Wienerin mit schwermütig am Klavier vertontem und poetisch betextetem Kammerpop gegen das lähmende Grundrauschen gesellschaftlicher Zwänge. Die Musik von SOPHIA BLENDA ist ein leiser, aber wirkungsvoller Protest. "DIE SUMME DER VEREINZELUNG" ist eine Anklage, und ein feministischer Weckruf. Wie viele Einzelfälle, fragt das neue Album von SOPHIA BLENDA, müssen es noch werden, damit sie begreifen, dass es keine Einzelfälle gibt. Der Albumtitel spricht Bände. Denn was ist die Summe aus den vielen einzelnen Geschichten, als ein gewaltsames System, das FLINTA* und queere Menschen ignoriert, diskriminiert und herabwürdigt. Trotzdem wird den Betroffenen oft gar nicht erst geglaubt oder wenn doch, keine Bedeutung beigemessen. "Dem will ich mein Album entgegenstellen", sagt SOPHIA BLENDA. "Es beschäftigt mich schon lange, dass weiblich gelesener und queerer Schmerz in unserer Gesellschaft so verharmlost wird. Ich will diese Geschichten erzählen, ohne irgendetwas kleinzureden. Hier wird nichts nebenbei oder am Rande verhandelt. Die Lieder geben den Geschichten den Stellenwert, den sie verdienen." Ihr Kampf als Musikerin ist ein Kampf gegen den Verlust der eigenen Geschichten, Gedanken und Gefühle im Sturm der Gegenwart. Und ein Gegenentwurf zur Vereinzelung, Vereinsamung und Isolation, die im mehrdeutigen Titel des neuen Albums schon mit angelegt ist. Entstehen tun die gesellschaftskritischen und unheilvoll drängenden Kompositionen alleine am Klavier zu Hause in Wien. Von dort aus wachsen die intim vorgetragenen Lieder zu etwas Kollektivem. Ganz im Sinne von: Zusammen sind wir weniger alleine. "DIE SUMME DER VEREINZELUNG" ist ein starkes Pop-Statement. Eine furchtlose Seelenverortung. Kritisch, suchend, fragend. Ein Mahnmal für das eigene Selbst. Oder um es mit einem Songtext SOPHIA BLENDAS zu sagen: "Ein Frühlingserwachen / Meine Mahnwache / Meine eigene Revolution / Ich bin nicht wie du mich willst" Sophie Löws Perspektiven, musikalisch wie inhaltlich, ob krachend-düster oder zart-dunkel, ob mit CULK oder durch SOPHIA BLENDA vorgetragen, sind nicht einfach zugänglich, aber von einer schmerzenden Wahrhaftigkeit, welche in uns nachwirken sollte.

Stille kann entweder Ruhe oder Stagnation bedeuten. Walt McClements hat sich mit diesen gegensätzlichen Kräften auseinandergesetzt, um "On a Painted Ocean" zu realisieren: eine Suite von Akkordeon und Pfeifenorgel geleiteten Stücken, die einen stetigen Kurs verfolgen, anschwellen und sich mit einer Flut von zarten Emotionen erweitern. Der Komponist und Multiinstrumentalist hat den Titel seines zweiten Albums von Samuel Taylor Coleridges berühmtem Epos "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" und dessen Beschreibung eines Bootes, das auf See feststeckt ("As idle as a painted ship / Upon a painted Ocean"). Es ist ein Eindruck, der sowohl den Prozess als auch das Produkt von McClements' Western Vinyl Veröffentlichung widerspiegelt, vom sanften Entfalten eines rauen Schilfrohrtons im Opener ,A Painted Ship" bis hin zum düsteren, mit Effekten beladenen Drone von "Washed Up" und dem abschließenden Flattern und Signalstörungen, die sich in ,Clattering" geräuschvoll zu triumphaler Euphorie erheben. "On a Painted Ocean" ist das Ergebnis eines Zusammenflusses von Ereignissen und Inspirationen, die sich verändert haben wie das Wetter selbst. Die ersten Skizzen begannen mit dem unerwarteten Zugang zu einer Kirchenorgel in Pasadena im Jahr 2022, bevor diese Skizzen zur Seite gelegt wurden, um sich auf ein arbeitsreiches Jahr als Mitglied der Live-Band von Weyes Blood vorzubereiten. Die Monate im Tourbus mit begrenzten Instrumenten veranlassten McClements dazu, den Klang seines bearbeiteten Akkordeons auf dem Synthesizer nachzubilden, und überlagerte ihn mit den Orgelstücken. Als dieser Zyklus zu Ende ging, war McClements begierig darauf die Platte zu beenden, war sich aber nicht sicher, wie er den Faden wieder aufnehmen sollte. Festgefahren in der Flaute einer kreativen Blockade, nahm McClements seine Spuren von bearbeiteten Akkordeons und Synthesizern, Pfeifenorgel und Melodica, Zungen und Pfeifen, die durch Pedale und Computer laufen, in seine ehemalige Heimat New Orleans zum Karneval mit. Nachdem er ein Jahrzehnt in der Stadt in Louisiana gelebt hatte, bevor er nach Los Angeles zog, fand McClements in einer der ekstatischsten und bedeutungsvollsten Zeiten des Jahres neue Inspiration. Das Ethos der Kunst um der Gemeinschaft willen und die Praktiken der Fürsorge inspirierten ihn den Rat seiner Musikerkollegin und Mentorin Rachika Nayar zu befolgen und Mitstreiter einzubeziehen, darunter auch Nayar selbst, die eine zusätzliche Produktion zu ,Sirens" beisteuert. Aurora Nealand, eine alte Freundin und ehemalige Bandkollegin, antwortete ebenfalls auf den Ruf und fügte Saxophon zu den unruhigen Gewässern von ,Cloud Prints" und ,Parade" hinzu. Der letztgenannte Track ist der klangliche und konzeptionelle Höhepunkt auf McClements' Reise zur Verwirklichung von "On a Painted Ocean", wo eine steigende Tonhöhe und aufgewühlte Segel auf eine Feldaufnahme von Community Care treffen. Ein Verdienst von starken Beziehungen und gegenseitiger Unterstützung, das Album zeichnet als eine persönliche Pilgerreise auf - die Anpassung an die Gezeiten und die Erinnerung daran, dass die Gemeinschaft helfen kann, wenn man sich auf dem Meer festgefahren fühlt.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Whipped up in the dust of Rene & Rene’s Tejano tornado “Angelito,” the Dynamic label was just one among San Antonio record and real estate mogul Abe Epstein’s enterprises. Dynamic’s flagship outfit, the Commands, marched “No Time For You” up to the middle of the charts in 1966 with performance chops honed jet-sharp by the demanding Air Force Base circuit. That take off paved a runway for 20 more soulful Dynamic singles over an impressive 30-month campaign. Epstein’s open-door policy brought a diverse cross-section of Texas talent into convergence within his General McMullan Drive studio, as whites, blacks, and Latinos alike suited up for service in whichever new group the call of duty called for. Epstein’s Alamo City melting pot is ladled out here in 21 (28 on the 2LP) of Dynamic’s most intriguing dishes by the Tonettes, Little Jr. Jesse & the Tear Drops, Don & the Doves, Willie Cooper & the Webs, Bobby Blackmon & His Soul Express, and Doc & Sal. Lone Star pic sleeves, full-color dancehall photography, and rich ephemera plant a new flag for soul in soil that’s seen its share of hoisted banners.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Electronic pioneer Sasha links up with Artche for dramatic new single 'Hold On', Artche also provides his own version of the track.

Last Night on Earth founder Sasha sits in his own world after more than 30 years of innovation as a DJ and producer. His meticulously crafted sounds have constantly redefined the underground, and with this label, he has spearheaded the melodic movement with his own music and careful A&R of exceptional contemporary talents. This latest release finds him working again with Newcastle-based producer and vocalist Artche, who has already collaborated to great effect with the likes of Franky Wah and Cristoph on Eric Prydz's Pryda Presents and also released solo on SHÈN Recordings. His mix of deep house and techno has won fans like Pete Tong and Lane B, and he asserts his skills once more here. Says Artche of his return to LNOE.

The fantastic 'Hold On' is a dramatic ride lit up with sweeping, spine-tingling synths. It has a grand architecture and widescreen atmosphere with profound melodies and moody bass rolling down below. Angelic vocal sounds shimmer amongst the epic chords and the whole sophisticated track makes an inescapably emotional impact. The Artche Mix works the drums into airy, dusty broken beats that bring a different vibe while the original vocals and lush synths remain in place and tugging at the heartstrings.

Unter Federführung des neuen Labelpartners RPM-ROAR steht am 14.03.2025 nun die Veröffentlichung des 3. Albums mit dem verheißungsvollen Titel "Resurrection" an. Auf 10 Tracks bieten BLACK & DAMNED wieder eine einzigartige Mischung aus melodischem Power Metal und düster stimmungsvollen Klängen.
Brachiale Gitarrenriffs, intensive Rhythmen, kombiniert mit den für die Band charakteristischen, eingängigen Gesangslinien - ein Sturm aus Kraft und Emotionen. Erneut sind Daniel Galmarini und Sven Vöhri als Gäste vertreten. Der fantastische Albumsound entstand erstmals unter der Regie von Stefan Leibing (Ex-PrimalFear).

Whipped up in the dust of Rene & Rene's Tejano tornado "Angelito," the Dynamic label was just one among San Antonio record and real estate mogul Abe Epstein's enterprises. Dynamic's flagship outfit, the Commands, marched "No Time For You" up to the middle of the charts in 1966 with performance chops honed jet-sharp by the demanding Air Force Base circuit. That takeoff paved a runway for 20 more soulful Dynamic singles over an impressive 30-month campaign. Epstein's open-door policy brought a diverse cross-section of Texas talent into convergence within his General McMullan Drive studio, as whites, blacks, and Latinos alike suited up for service in whichever new group the call of duty called for. Epstein's Alamo City melting pot is ladled out here in 21 (28 on the 2LP) of Dynamic's most intriguing dishes by the Tonettes, Little Jr. Jesse & the Tear Drops, Don & the Doves, Willie Cooper & the Webs, Bobby Blackmon & His Soul Express, and Doc & Sal. Lone Star pic sleeves, full-color dancehall photography, and rich ephemera plant a new flag for soul in soil that's seen its share of hoisted banners.

"With their dulcet fusion of ‘60s French ye-ye pop, slinky Studio One reggae, and liminal Brazilian tropicalia, Claude Fontaine’s songs embody the best kept dreams of a globally connected world. The second album from the Los Angeles artist reflects the dream of creating the soundtrack for this utopia by the sea.

Released on Innovative Leisure, La Mer is a mesmerizing portal. It’s impossible for it to exist outside of the modern moment, but it floats on the gilded dust of the past. At times, Fontaine channels Jane Birkin as backed by Jorge Ben. Francois Hardy locked into sonic reverie with Mulatu Astatke, or Margo Guryan making lovers rock.

None of this is a happy accident. For her second opus, Fontaine assembled some of the most gifted musicians of the last five decades. First and foremost is her co-writer and producer, the multi-platinum Grammy-Award winning Lester Mendez, whose resume includes everyone from Grace Jones and Baaba Maal to Shakira and Nelly Furtado.

As with Fontaine’s self-titled first album, the legendary Tony Chin appears on guitar, bringing the orphic tones expected from someone who has played with some of the greatest reggae musicians of all-time (King Tubby, Dennis Brown, Lee Perry, Jackie Mittoo, Max Romeo, Sly & Robbie). On bass, there’s Ronnie McQueen, one of the co-founders of Steel Pulse. Sergio Mendes’ percussionist, Gibi Dos Santos, supplies propulsive locomotion. So does Ziggy Marley’s drummer, Rock Deadrick. And that’s just the abridged list of storied instrumentalists who appear on La Mer."

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

Adrian Younge presents: Something About April flaunts all of the trademarks that have made Adrian Younge an in-demand name as a composer and sample source-point. His work oozes raw, analogue soul and the primal sonic edge of psychedelic rock, sitting nicely alongside Ennio Morricone's best soundtrack work or Pink Floyd's early catalogue. Recorded and mixed by Adrian Younge at Linear Labs, the preeminent analog studio of Los Angeles, CA.

Die 10 Tracks auf CHAOS, dem ersten LUCKYME® Release der Londoner R&B-Künstlerin TYSON (Tochter von Neneh Cherry und Cameron McVie) wurden von ihrem Jugendfreund Oscar Scheller (Lady Gaga, PinkPantheress, Shygirl) mitgeschrieben und produziert. Das symbiotische Songwriting der beiden am selben Tag Geborenen erweitert den düsteren R&B und modernen Soul ihrer Vorgänger, dringt tiefer in die UK Basskultur (Breakbeats, Street Soul, Trip-Hop) vor und inkludiert eisigen 80er Synthpop und weitläufigen 00er R&B. Der Leadtrack "Grunge" featuret Wu-Lu (Warp Records), das Vinylformat enthält 3 exklusive Instrumentals.

TYSON ist seit Jahren in der Londoner Musikszene unterwegs und die Tochter der legendären Künstlerin Neneh Cherry und des Produzenten Cameron McVey (Massive Attack, Portishead, All Saints, Sugababes), die Schwester der Sängerin Mabel und Grossnichte der Jazzlegende Don Cherry. Ihr verschwommener, melancholischer Gesangsstil brachte ihr Kollaborationen mit Undergroundgrössen wie Dean Blunt, Leon Vynehall, Ezra Collective, Coby Sey und rRoxymore ein, auch ist sie auf Joy Orbisons Album "Still Slipping Vol. 1" (2021) zu hören. TYSON wurde von The Guardian als "One To Watch" gefeiert und erhielt starken Radiosupport von Annie Mac, Benji B, Lauren Laverne, Mary Anne Hobbs, Jamz Supernova, u.v.a.

Over 19 tracks, Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music mines gold from dollar bin country-rock detritus to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's wild west - Americana's vast private press substructure. As progenitor and contemptuous poster boy for the music that came to be Cosmic American, Gram Parsons found himself mired in a recording career spent mostly in scouting the perimeters of chart success. "He hated country-rock," Parsons collaborator Emmylou Harris would later reflect. "He thought that bands like the Eagles were pretty much missing the point." Parsons had been orbiting the idea of Cosmic American Music for some time. In 1968 he'd parted ways with the Byrds and was looking to take air with a new project. "It's basically a Southern soul group playing country and gospel-oriented music with a steel guitar" he told Melody Maker, on the subject of The Flying Burrito Brothers. So it was that when A&M's Burrito Brothers debut The Gilded Palace of Sin made it to shelves in February of 1969, early adherents to the Cosmic American gospel were already echoing its message from areas flanking Gram Parsons' Southern California hills and canyons. There was F.J. McMahon in coastal Santa Barbara, Mistress Mary further inland in Hacienda Heights, and Plain Jane of Albuquerque, New Mexico, each responding by committing their own private readings to tape before day one of the 1970s. Parsons himself might've disdained them, had he even been aware of such minor ripples, shimmering at the edges of his desert oasis. But these were true believers all the same, given over fully to his roots music concept, each filling vinyl grooves with non-rock instrumentation like fiddle, banjo, and pedal steel guitar, the last undoubtedly Cosmic American Music's most distinguishing stringed signifier. Only too predictably, big labels did the grunt work of confining and defining the movement, as ABC, United Artists, RCA, and more played catch-up with Asylum's raptor rock juggernaut, via backwoods crossover also-rans with names like Gladstone, American Flyer, and Silverado. Twang reigned, the shitkickers kicked shit, and the vaguely western-sounding guitar records piled up. Country-rock became "the dominant American rock style of the 1970s," as Peter Doggett's comprehensive Are You Ready for the Country put it much later. Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music picks up and dusts off golden ingots from the dollar-bin detritus of that domination, to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's real Wild West-America's one-off private press label substructure.

New York psych-pop band Crumb return with AMAMA, their most carefree and open-hearted album to date. A soundscape full of playful and patchwork experimentation _ glitchy pitch-shifted vocals, cell phone recordings, nautical blips, sax mouthpiece solos, blasted drum samples, and piano strings dampened with Silly Putty _ AMAMA continues to deepen the band's hypnotic sound in a cohesive line back through 2021's Ice Melt, 2019's Jinx, and breakout EPs Locket and Crumb. Without a doubt, AMAMA is Crumb _ singer and multi-instrumentalist Lila Ramani, keyboardist and saxophonist Bri Aronow, bassist Jesse Brotter, and drummer Jonathan Gilad _ at their most animated.AMAMA exists at the crossroads of psychedelia, pop, jazz, and rock, and cements Crumb as a band uniquely their own. Released independently on Crumb Records and produced alongside Johnscott Sanford and Jonathan Rado in Los Angeles, AMAMA is an incandescent statement about searching for solid ground, connection, and clarity in a life of nomadic upheaval.

In the fall of 2022, celebrated UK chill-out institution Seahawks landed in Los Angeles for the first time in their 15-year history, with plans to record a sweeping new age downtempo "exploration of visionary California."

Instead, they immediately fell ill with flu (Fowler collapsed next to a taco truck; 911 was called), and were bedridden for the better part of a week. Upon recovering, they resituated at the synthesizer sanctuary of Brian Foote (Peak Oil, Kranky, Leech), channeling their post-sickness psychedelia into one of the band's lushest and most elevated creations to date: Time Enough For Love. Inspired by the "groove and mood" of Harry Nilsson demos, as well as its wider 70's wavelength - Rhodes, Wurlitzer, wood paneling - Seahawks transposed their classic post-rave ambient exotica onto a warm and woozy Golden State palette. Buoyed by the liquid touch of English maestro Kenny Dickenson on keys, the results rank high among the duo's smoothest and most multi-sensory voyages. "Sail Across The Moon" delivers on its title, a simmering, phaser-smeared cruise through the beauty of the night. "Messengers" echoes the cosmic lounge of Air's Moon Safari, shuffling, weightless, and ethereal, while "Falling Deep" reaches for the stars, pure cascading bliss, the ecstatic moment writ large.

The album skews steadily more astral as it progresses, drifting towards jazzy, galactic outer reaches. "Like A Grain Of Sand" opens with a spoken sample by the celebrated late American poet Rachel Sherwood ("The children watch, breathless / with the birds / They feel an emanation / from this shuddering place"), before taking flight on a Balearic trip through island house, PM Dawn gold dust, upright bass meditation, and kaleidoscopic light. A remix of the title track by Chicago trio Purelink closes the record in a suitably subdued and skittery state of mind. Time Enough For Love radiates color, complexity, and positivity, infused by the "life enhancing" nature of the band's time in Los Angeles - sunsets, sound systems, and sativa, framed by coastlines and cloudbanks, the city's mystic sprawl glittering beneath purple dusk.

NEW ORDER continue the series of Definitive boxsets, with the band's 1986 album Brotherhood. The boxset will include the original album remastered on CD and 180g LP, plus an Extras CD with previously unreleased demos and rarities, as well as two DVDs featuring the band's performances at Festival of the Tenth at the GMex, Manchester 1986 and Live in Brixton, 1987 in support of World AIDS Day. The DVDs will additionally include live TV performances, interviews and rare band footage. The extensive hardback book will include contemporary articles and liner notes by Irish radio DJ Dave Fanning.





CD Tracks:
1. Paradise
2. Weirdo
3. As It Is When It Was
4. Broken Promise
5. Way of Life
6. Bizarre Love Triangle
7. All Day Long
8. Angel Dust
9. Every Little Counts
10. State of the Nation

CD2
1. Shellshock (AOR Version) *
2. State Of The Nation (Japan Demo) *
3. Paradise (Robert Racic Remix)
4. As It Is When It Was (Japan Demo) *
5. Broken Promise (Instrumental) *
6. Bizarre Love Triangle (Stephen Hague 12” Remix) *
7. All Day Long (Instrumental) *
8. Evil Dust
9. Every Little Counts (Full Length) *
10. Salvation Theme
11. Skullcrusher (Full Length) *
12. Touched By The Hand Of God (Salvation Version)
13. Let's Go (Salvation Version)
14. Sputnik
15. Blue Monday 1988 (Michael Johnson 12” Remix) *
(* previously unreleased)

DVD1
Live at the Academy Brixton, 1987
1. Bizarre Love Triangle
2. The Perfect Kiss
3. Ceremony
4. Dreams Never End
5. Love Vigilantes
6. Confusion
7. Age Of Consent
8. Temptation
TV Appearances
BBC Northern Ireland – Channel One 1986.
Ceremony
Love Will Tear Us Apart
The Tube 1986.
State Of The Nation
Broken Promise
Top of the Pops 1987.
True Faith
Les Enfants du Rock, Rockline 1987.
Paradise
Bizarre Love Triangle
The Roxy, 1987.
True Faith
11pm, 1987.
Bizarre Love Triangle
Extra Material
Stephen’s Fly On The Wall Documentary 1985.
Recording 'As It Is' and ‘Shame of the Nation’ at Denon Studios, Tokyo (May 1985).
DVD2
Live at the G-Mex, Manchester, 19/07/86.
1. Elegia
2. Shellshock
3. Paradise
4. Bizarre Love Triangle
5. Way Of Life
6. State Of The Nation
7. Face Up
8. The Perfect Kiss
9. Ceremony
10. Temptation
Live Extra Material
Glastonbury, 1987.
True Faith
Sister Ray
San Giovanni, 1986.
Dreams Never End
Pier 84, New York, 1987.
All Day Long
Angel Dust
Shellshock
Weirdo
Rapido, Paris 1987.
True Faith
G-Mex, Manchester, 1988.
Touched By the Hand of God
Every Little Counts