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Their masterpiece? With breaks for dayyyyyys and an almost ambient, heavy jazz atmosphere throughout, *this* is the apex of British jazz-rock fusion. We'll Talk About It Later was first released on Vertigo in 1971 and original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has kept relevant. To steal a line from a review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

We'll Talk About It Later is arguably Nucleus's best album. Not only that, it's in the top 5 of all fusion albums. By the time Nucleus entered Trident Studios in September 1970 to record Elastic Rock's successor, they had already won a best group award at the Montreux Jazz Festival. Once again presented in a Roger Dean designed die-cut gatefold sleeve it continued to demonstrate the chemistry and interplay that worked so brilliantly on Elastic Rock; Carr's sumptuous trumpet and flügelhorn lines, Karl Jenkins's funk-filled electric keyboards, Chris Spedding's wah-wah guitar, Brian Smith's sax and the rhythmic foundation of drummer John Marshall and bassist Jeff Clyne.

The group work and insane musicianship Nucleus were famed for is in evidence from the off. The intensely funky "Song for the Bearded Lady" is absolute FIRE, blasting out the speakers to leave listeners floored. Counterpoint riffing segues into a spacious groove and a Carr trumpet solo demonstrating the influence of electric Miles from the period. The stop-start funk of "Sun Child" would appeal to Soft Machine devotees whilst the genuinely touching "Lullaby for a Lonely Child" is a lovely downtempo ballad. Featuring an understated, reflective horn line from Carr and Smith and atmospheric, shimmering bouzouki from Spedding, there's an exotic flavour which contributes to the bliss. The ominous, sleazy title track retains a swaggering menace and is not the only track to lend a sort of heavy stoner rock atmosphere. The guitars and bass are deep and low throughout, conjuring heavy psych moments to go with the actual jazz and even funk. To say this album was in conversation with Bitches Brew would not be overstating the sheer brain-frying brilliance.

The Weather Report-adjacent "Oasis" opens Side B, a colossal track featuring nearly 10 minutes of steadily building melodic horns, keys and choppy guitar riffs. So ace, it could easily go on for another 10. Mesmeric. Spedding adds unique vocals to the undeniable groove of "Ballad of Joe Pimp" whilst saxophonist Smith's duet with drummer Marshall at the conclusion of "Easter 1916" - inspired by the Yeats poem about the Irish nationalist uprising in Dublin - adopts the wildness of the most incendiary free jazz.

This Be With edition of We'll Talk About It Later has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at AIR Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning die-cut sleeve has been restored with the original gatefold window pane depicting the Irish uprising in 1916. Incredible, timeless, guaranteed spine-chills.

After releasing their debut project “Voyage” in 2022, Tapioca, the Brussels-Kigali-based, Brazil-inspired duo return with LP “Samba em Kigali.” Building on their sound and influence, “Samba em Kigali” is a definitive step up and clear sonic growth for the twosome, whose debut, RA wrote, is "if Anderson Paak. & Marco Valle made a Brazilian pop-funk record.” Arriving via Berlin’s Jakarta Records May 19th.

Tapioca (32k Monthly Listeners on Spotify), the Belgian duo made of rapper / lyricist Alessandro “Le Tagarel” Vlerick and producer & composer Simon “SiKa” Carlier, tapped into a unique and infectious groove with their debut LP “Voyage,” released in 2022 via Jakarta Records’ “Dubplates” series. Positive reviews came flooding in, including coverage from, among others, BBC Radio 6, KCRW, Resident Advisor, JAZZIZ as well as performances and features on Worldwide FM and Bandcamp Daily. Their debut also landed on global editorial playlists such as Spotify’s “Global Groove,” (600k) “Tulum Vibes” (110k) and Deezer’s “Chilling Pool” (31k). “Voyage,” as the name indicates, was an ode to freedom, escape and the discovery of alternative cultural horizons that brought together various spoken-word testimonies from Portuguese friends around the world. Tapioca’s upcoming LP, “Samba em Kigali,” picks up the thread where “Voyage” left off, acting as an ode to traveling and, more broadly, of the inherent beauty of the African continent. Le Tagarel has worked as a teacher in Kigali, Ruanda, for the past years and his time there is reflected in the album’s buttery lyricism, putting forth the proposition that Africa and Brazil are in fact not so far apart - Africa is, and will always be, present in Brazilian culture. Featuring the Dillaesque sound infused with inspiration from rap, jazz, MPB and funk of the 70/80’s to the stunningly fleshed out lyricism - the LP sways like a ship on the smoothest of seas, a pure ray of aural sunshine to welcome the warm weather. Artwork was stunningly put together by Simone Cihlar (Anderson Paak. Tom Misch, Ivan Ave) and visualizers done by the stalwart crew at Die Ottos (Flofilz, K Le Maestro, Suff Daddy, S.Fidelity, Gianni Brezzo). Jakarta is ecstatic to share such a high-water mark of an album, out everywhere physically / digitally May 19th.

Kicking off “Samba em Kigali” is the impeccably smooth 1st single, “Lagoas de Ruanda” out March 22nd along with LP pre-order announcement. Instantly catchy, the crisp guitar, funky bass and buoyant underlying percussion are the perfect vitamin of joy that gives rise to Le Tagarel’s vocals. The track is a perfect sonic voyage that encapsulates the continued growth of Tapioca’s sound and gives a sonic peek into the LP. Infectious and groovy, the song skirts a line along samba, R&B and jazz with an almost hip-hop bounce.

2nd single, “Sabor Swahili,” out April 12th, is a nostalgic groovy splash that melds soft keys, bass and a percussive edge that slides you into an aural pocket. The song moves in a joyous melancholy that is almost impossible to move to, the under-water synth stabs keep your shoulders loose while the rhythm keeps you bouncing along. Even if you don’t know Portuguese, you’ll be singing along by the tracks end. The joyous 3rd single “Terra Preta” is out April 26th and will lift you up high to keep you in a serene mood anytime, anywhere. Focus track is the headnodding grooves of “Cara de Arabe.” Building from “Voyage,” Tapioca provides a fresh, rare vibe, adding a slight dose of disco to the R&B-driven progressions. “Samba em Kigali” is a unique album that is soaked and marinated in a sonic and visual aesthetic that brings with it feelings of joy, movement, and a global home, and sonic moods ranging from Bruno Berle and Marcos Valle inspired arrangements to bouncing progressions with a swingin’ percussive edge. Besides online promotion from the label and artist profiles, the album will further be promoted by external agencies within the US and UK.

Former In the Woods... members deliver epic Norwegian Black Metal to takes you into the night sky!

It’s the moment just after the tree-root thick tangle of guitars come in and the luminous clean vocals light up the sky while the keyboards suddenly shine from below: when the singing enters on ‘Astrologer’, the first track of Nattehimmel’s first album “Mourningstar”, that one might actually hear a continuation from In The Woods...’s legendary “Omnio” album from 1997. None of the 5 members are strangers to one another, having met before in bands such as In The Woods... and Strange New Dawn.
We guarantee that the members regard “Omnio” pretty highly.
Enough to revere it though? The similarity is not likely to be incidental, and anyway proves fleeting in the context of the 8 songs on “Mournigstar”, this new union turning out
very creative in shaping their Black Metal with a variety of elements. Primarily, the vocals set Nattehimmel apart from many other acts of this nature by including a variety of tropes from harsh growls to monkish groans to undead rasps, plus other backing parts that overlay the slightly echoey production with a ton of reson.

Sometimes, things "just happen". For months, we’d been working away on various projects and then, without really thinking about it, The Black EP just happened. It seemingly appeared from nowhere.

We’d been talking about the old days; making music with friends and dodgy kit, renting small practice rooms and using makeshift recording studios. It was such a common thing back then, you could pick a dusty space in a half-derelict building for as little as £25 a month. In those days, the Cabs and Human League had studios with posh-sounding names, but in reality, they were the same old workspaces long abandoned by the industries they were built for. Nevertheless, the grand names made them sound magical.

Sheffield had thousands of these spaces, and some still exist today, but their abundance and low-cost made Sheffield a very active place. Someone was always doing something. They’d exploded onto the scene in a flurry of excitement before disappearing just as quickly.

There’s something about these little mesters (workshops) that we believe lives in the very consciousness of Sheffield. It’s one of the reasons we never really had big scenes like Manchester or Leeds. The Hacienda would've never been built here.

We don’t really do big gangs or have that kind of mentality. We tend to exist in little pockets, often leaving each other alone. It would be 30 years before any member of The Black Dog talked to Cabaret Voltaire. Sure, we’d stood outside their practice room as kids, trying to listen in, but never felt any reason to approach. Sheffield is like that.

Once we had the first two tracks of the Black EP, we set off to see Jon at Do It Theesen, where he manually cut the tracks to an extremely limited set of 7" singles using a vinyl lathe. It just felt right to go back to the old ways; a small gang creating something special in workshops and sheds. There’s something very satisfying about it, a perfect circle, if you will.

We pushed further by adopting old practices, working with one synth per person and limiting the use of our computers. We only stopped short of putting everything on beer crates. It seems like madness these days, but there is raw creativity within these confines. Pretty much every band started this way. Depeche Mode travelled to the studio on the London Underground for their first appearance on Top Of The Pops, all lugging a synth each. That's how we approached the creation of this album; stripped back, raw and minimal - it just felt so right.

And then there’s the competitive element that was influenced when the original Human League split and became Human League MK II and Heaven 17. Both continued to use the same studio to write what became the albums "Dare" and "Penthouse and Pavement". There is something about that drive that is very Sheffield, just making stuff and hoping everything falls into place.

In Sheffield, we do things differently, because that’s how we are built. away on various projects and then, without really thinking about it, The Black EP just happened. It seemingly appeared from nowhere.

Murmer is the long-standing project for Estonian field recordist and composer Patrick McGinley, and in Tether, The Helen Scarsdale Agency welcomes Murmer back to our roster, over a decade since he graced us with his last production for the Agency. His field recordings often center upon the amplification and activation of resonance from a particular space, landscape, or object. Such sounds emerge from a condition as begin fleeting, inconsequential, or ephemeral and explode into that which alien, sublime, and profound. Here lies the tremendous prowess of the contact microphone, as wielded by an accomplished musician! The source material cited by McGinley includes cables, fences, wires, and vents.

There is a heft to many of these sounds as heard throughout all of "Taevast" with deep throbbing pulsations from arctic wind generating subharmonic patterns upon thick high-tension wires. Elsewhere the subtle dissonance from a rasping cooling fan blooms into a brooding ambience that is sublimely rich in its metallic timbres and complex reverberations. McGingley has long been an exemplary artist in the field of phonography even as he is less prolific than others. On Tether, he has produced a majestic if occasionally foreboding work on par with the mythic wire recordings of Alan Lamb, Jacob Kirkegaard's haunted resonance from Chernobyl, and much of the Touch catalogue for that matter!

Patrick McGingley on Tether:

In 2006, I made a collection of recordings at a mobile phone mast in Mooste, southeast Estonia. It is a guyed tower, 80 meters tall, affixed to 3 support points with heavy cables. I attached my self-made contact microphones to these cables with poster tack, and spent many hours over several weeks recording the various wind and weather variances (it was summer), and the birds that passed or settled on the tower or cables. This was one of my first visits to estonia, where i now live, and one of the things that marked me about that experience was the access: the tower had no fences or protections around it (I have not been back there recently to answer my own question of whether or not this is still the case); it stands in the middle of a field of tall grass along a dirt road in the countryside, just out of view of the few nearby houses, and during all the hours I spent there I was never disturbed or shooed away.

For more than 16 years, I have been thinking about this location and these recordings, and have made several attempts to work with them. I have used the sounds in installations a handful of times, and uploaded one short edit to the Aporee soundmaps, but have never managed to use them in any composed work. They always seemed too big for any structure I could provide them, whether I left them on their own, or partnered them with other sounds. Finally, in 2019, after putting them down and picking them up again repeatedly over so many years, they seemed to allow me in, although it took me another few years before they were happy with what I could offer. They stand now not quite alone - the majority of the layered sounds in the piece come from various edits of those cable recordings, but I added two other contrasting sounds, related to one another: one is snowflakes landing delicately on a plastic cakebox with microphones inside it, and the other is a frosted field of grass thawing on a lightly warming autumn morning (both these recordings can also be heard on their own on the Aporee maps).

Coming back to those cables brought to mind so many other wind-driven sounds that I had spent time with and recorded, but never returned to, that I began digging through my archives looking for them. I ended up with a pool of sounds from resonant wires, cables, fences, poles, fans, and vents, which became the basis for the 2nd work on this release. One of these sounds is among the first sounds I ever recorded, possibly within a month or so of buying my first microphone and minidisc recorder: the rhythmic fan of a beer cooler in a pub where I worked in North London in 1999. Other sounds in the piece include another phone tower, recorded on the northern coast of France in 2008, a telephone pole recorded in the Beaujolais region in 2010, the drone of ventilator fans at a factory in Tezno, Slovenia in 2012, an electric sheep fence in the Scottish borders in 2013, a hanging wire in a storage space in Rovaniemi, Finland in 2016, and, with no relation to cables or wind at all, calcium deposits being cleaned from the inside of an electric kettle here in Estonia in 2019.

I offer these two new pieces as my first solo publication since 2018, the first release on a physical medium since 2016. No one has ever accused me of working too fast, or being too prolific. I have a need, it seems, to leave a physical space of time around my work, before I can consider it 'finished'. Perhaps it is a simple need to forget how I did something, or that I did something; perhaps I have a need to be able to hear a work as a first-time listener would, before I can consider it ready for such an encounter. In some part of my mind I have to forget it before I can let it go. Well, I've just about forgotten that London beer cooler now, and that walk in the Beaujolais (with my father, who has since passed away), and that sheep fence next to our campsite in the borders, and that kettle that is now leaky. So I guess it's time.

The Supremes A’ Go-Go marked the
group’s first number one pop album. It is
presented here in its rarely heard Mono
mix, which according to many reviews has
more punch and immediacy than the Stereo
version. Various compilations had skimmed
the most familiar songs off of other Supremes’
albums, but the concept behind Supremes A’
Go-Go was to get the group to cover some of
the top hits of other (mostly Motown) acts. As
a result, every song on the album was familiar
in name, and only “You Can’t Hurry Love” was
culled for any hits packages. A number one
album on the pop and R&B charts, Supremes
A’ Go-Go also benefited from the fact that the
album didn’t include any pop standards or
slow ballads, just solid R&B dance numbers. It
was the first LP by an all-female group to reach
number-one on the Billboard 200 album charts
in the United States. The LP contains two of the
Supremes’ top ten Billboard Hot 100 singles:
the #9 hit “Love Is Like an Itching in My Heart”
and the #1 hit “You Can’t Hurry Love”. 180-
gram VIRGIN VINYL LIMITED EDITION.

Jean-Luc Mocard met Jean Ronde in September of 2009, while working at the CASIO Palaiseau factory, near Paris. Before, they were both active musicians with a particular taste for synthesized music, touring extensively through European and Asian underground venues and clubs. Eventually, their furious passion for collecting 80’s keyboards brought them together to become the fabulous duo Vive Les Cônes.

Presently based in Porto, Portugal, by a matter of pure chance, Vive Les Cônes is a CASIO explosion, the fuel of a dancing machine that never stops and cherry picks moments from dance and pop music culture along the way. Their live concerts are non-stop hit parades featuring their very own local cult classics, such as “Bonaparty” or “Brocoli-Rave”, and medleys of pop-culture classics ranging from video-game soundtracks, to dance hits, to classical music.

“De France”, their debut album, is the product of years of playing live, training and mastering the perfect CASIO technique. Every track in this album is played live using only pure unmodded Casio PT-380 and Yamaha PSR-37 keyboards, thrift store fx pedals, bringing to the recorded form the meticulously crafted tracks that set dancefloors on fire all throughout the world.

The album is an eclectic journey through electronic and dance music on cheap keyboards, from traces of House Music in “Maillon” and the instant hit “Je Ne Sais Pas”, fumes of vaporwave in “Machine à Vapeur”, and, of course, baguettes of French electro in “Brocoli-Rave”, the track that usually andeuphorically ends Vive Les Cônes’ set.

The Quietus has referred to the duo as a “weird John Shuttleworth take on house music”, but them being French, a better comparison would be something like “Daft Punk lost all their gear on tour and had to play a gig using some old keyboards”. But could they even do it? Maybe a “Pascal Comelade on molly live set for Boiler Room” could make thembetter Justice. We’re not really sure what to compare them to though, and probably there’s no need to compare them to anything, as the best thing you can do is to give them a go and check them out for yourself.

Jean-Luc Mocard met Jean Ronde in September of 2009, while working at the CASIO Palaiseau factory, near Paris. Before, they were both active musicians with a particular taste for synthesized music, touring extensively through European and Asian underground venues and clubs. Eventually, their furious passion for collecting 80’s keyboards brought them together to become the fabulous duo Vive Les Cônes.

Presently based in Porto, Portugal, by a matter of pure chance, Vive Les Cônes is a CASIO explosion, the fuel of a dancing machine that never stops and cherry picks moments from dance and pop music culture along the way. Their live concerts are non-stop hit parades featuring their very own local cult classics, such as “Bonaparty” or “Brocoli-Rave”, and medleys of pop-culture classics ranging from video-game soundtracks, to dance hits, to classical music.

“De France”, their debut album, is the product of years of playing live, training and mastering the perfect CASIO technique. Every track in this album is played live using only pure unmodded Casio PT-380 and Yamaha PSR-37 keyboards, thrift store fx pedals, bringing to the recorded form the meticulously crafted tracks that set dancefloors on fire all throughout the world.

The album is an eclectic journey through electronic and dance music on cheap keyboards, from traces of House Music in “Maillon” and the instant hit “Je Ne Sais Pas”, fumes of vaporwave in “Machine à Vapeur”, and, of course, baguettes of French electro in “Brocoli-Rave”, the track that usually andeuphorically ends Vive Les Cônes’ set.

The Quietus has referred to the duo as a “weird John Shuttleworth take on house music”, but them being French, a better comparison would be something like “Daft Punk lost all their gear on tour and had to play a gig using some old keyboards”. But could they even do it? Maybe a “Pascal Comelade on molly live set for Boiler Room” could make thembetter Justice. We’re not really sure what to compare them to though, and probably there’s no need to compare them to anything, as the best thing you can do is to give them a go and check them out for yourself.

Sustained exercises in tension. Personal healing. Dischord Records. The Unit Ama make music that explodes outward: dense but soothing metronomic pulses morph into a wild fracturing of the traditional rock trio. The Unit Ama take their time. They act on their own terms. This applies to their music and their work-rate. Two albums and a handful of singles in twenty years. Sporadic gigs. No endless Bandcamp messages or weekly mailing list updates. Rare missions outside their native north-east. And then… Toward is their second studio album and their second Gringo release. It’s not their ‘pandemic’ album but does see the band considering the important things: post-traumatic growth, insight through experience. Utilising the past to navigate towards a meaningful future. Toward was self-produced and will probably get tagged as post-hardcore which is fair enough. But it’s also informed by post-punk, jazz and folk, and by working closely together for two decades. The Unit Ama play in other incarnations that inform their music and the way they dismantle expectations of the rock trio. There’s as much Richard Thompson as Minutemen. Toward takes the exploratory, explosive sound of their debut and adds twenty years of living and listening. Toward is eight tracks that are thoughtful and intricate without losing any impact. This is gut music as much as it is head music. The Unit Ama never let their abilities get in the way of their instincts and Toward is full of surging urgency and roaring anxiety. But there are moments of brooding calm too, and a song – Mary – that could be stripped down and sold as a folk ballad. The trio also play variously as The Long Lonesome Go, Archipelago, The Horse Loom and more. They have supported everyone from Fugazi to Lungfish, Lightning Bolt to Sunburned Hand of the Man

São Paulo-based carnival collective and brass band combine retro horns with cumbia, baile funk, jazz, Michael Jackson & more

A Espetacular Charanga do França started as a political act, part of a recent movement which has seen the people of São Paulo reclaim their streets, turning their city into a revelation of Brazilian carnival. The group takes equal inspiration from the powerful charanga horn and percussion bands that stir the crowds at Brazilian football matches, and the expertly-arranged sounds of 60s

samba, finding that sweet spot between musicianship and music that makes you lose your shit. And they do it with humour, clear as day in their covers of Michael Jackson and pagode pop hits, and the baile funk and Balkan rhythms that sneak their way in to the tunes.

Since forming in 2013 the group have become an iconic staple of São Paulo’s revived carnival, generating crowds 15,000 strong. Though COVID-19 put a stop to them hitting the streets this year, in 2020 they made their way to carnival with over 60 brass players and 30 percussionists, declaring their bloco an anti-fascist zone, their reply to a political climate in Brazil that is suffocating human rights, culture and any hope for equality.

“I like to think that Charanga is an oasis in the middle of all the shit that we live, where you don't have to be worried about who you are, what are your preferences, whether you can be comfortable. If you want to parade with us wearing a tea towel you can, you won't be harassed. And it's also about music, it's about listening to music. We do this thing the whole year, we rehearse all year, we do too much so that people can just get crazy and not care about the music.” Thiago França

The group is the brainchild of saxophonist Thiago França, best known as a founding member of Afro-punk explorers Metá-Metá, and one of São Paulo’s most in-demand horn men, with credits on influential albums by Criolo, Elza Soares, Céu and Lucas Santtana. A

Never one to pull inventive punches, Left Coast electronic music producer Dave Aju reassembled this notorious cast of characters for a remarkably fitting album package made during one of the most strange times our world has ever faced in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic. While things were essentially shutdown, reopened, cycle-repeat worldwide, and every other species in mother nature's kingdom temporarily rejoiced while humans remained still in their caves, Aju and The Invisible Art Trio, his formidable if not-seen-in-a-minute musical team behind such underground anthems as "Be Like the Sun", went to work in the final days of the glorious G-Son studios in Atwater Village LA to record this LP.

Indeed, the same four/five walls and vocal booth that saw the Beastie's iconic Check Your Head and Hello Nasty come to life, became the birthplace of Glossolalia, Aju's fifth studio album and appropriately impressive seven-song set. As always, myriad musical styles and influences are strung together and boldly combined here, to the degree that drawing comparisons or attempting genre references feels futile. There are, however, clear visceral expressions of political provocation, hope and anger, fear and joy laid over twisted yet dedicated grooves in a lockdown era where Aju's imaginary collective dance floor feels in the temporary absence thereof and bizarro sixth-world unification strategy of recording every song's lyrics in complete non-languages aka total gibberish, feels right at home. Even the vocal guests join in the literal chant here, granting us diverse spell-casting and sensual nonsensical lyrical lines over tech-funk mother lodes, before closing the otherworldly proceedings with a powerful grand finale tribute to the US of A's proud boys-in-blue in the wake of George Floyd's very public assassination.

Equal parts timely anti-establishment and uplifting call-to-action, Glossolalia serves as a decidedly coarse yet crucial reminder of the possibilities in collaborative and devoted noise-making, booty-shaking, and alternative world-building during greater global disarray - beyond stylistic, nationalistic, and linguistic dividing lines. An overtly universal and unifying message liberating us from any fixed cultural identities and thus differences, to instead just focus on how the music delivers and we physically respond, together, as the foundation. Perhaps also an inspired response to the talking heads in every corner of the world's media, spewing useless and politically-tainted mouth data at us amidst these turbulent times.

Every Aspect of the Production Personally Supervised by Barbra Streisand
Mixed by Jochem van der Saag from the Original Analogue Session Tapes & Mastered in 24 bit/96 kHz by Paul Blakemore
Lacquer Pressing Master Created by Bernie Grundman
Pressed at RTI
Tip-On Gatefold Jacket
Deluxe 12-Page Booklet Featuring Barbra's Recollections, the Recording's History & Production, and Performance Photos

The Premiere New York City Nightclub Event of 1962! The Most Anticipated Live Album of 2022!


In the fall of 1960, New York City wasn't the same urban mecca it is today. Neither was eighteen-year old Barbra Streisand, who emerged on the Greenwich Village club scene at a small, cozy venue on West 8th Street called the Bon Soir, where she received rave reviews and wooed the crowd with her incredible performances. Within two years Streisand, whose magnificent interpretations of both standards and quirky, obscure cabaret tunes was a nationwide sensation, was knocking audiences dead with her nightly performance as Miss Marmelstein in David Merrick's I Can Get It For You Wholesale on Broadway.

Sixty years, multiple Grammy, Emmy, Oscar, Tony and Golden Globe awards and nearly two hundred million record sales later, Barbra has for the first time authorized the release of a major portion of her Bon Soir performances, as captured in 1962 by Columbia Records. IMPEX Records - in conjunction with Sony Music Entertainment - is proud to present the audiophile 180-gram vinyl LP and SACD editions of the most sought-after recordings in Barbra's legendary career: Live at the Bon Soir: Greenwich Village, NY - November 1962. This gorgeous album features twenty-four brilliant performances personally selected by Barbra Streisand from the original Bon Soir master tapes and expertly mixed and mastered by Paul Blakemore and Jochem van der Saag, under the supervision of producers Barbra Streisand, Martin Erlichman and Jay Landers.

IMPEX RECORDS has created two versions of this noteworthy release: a two-LP vinyl edition and a 24 bit / 96 kHz SACD. To achieve the best fidelity possible, engineer Paul Blakemore transferred the original three-track session tapes to high-resolution 96/24-bit digital files, which were then mixed by Jochem van der Saag. For mastering, Blakemore used an all-analog signal-processing chain in order to maintain the warmth of the original analogue recordings. To master the vinyl LP edition, IMPEX engaged Bernie Grundman, who has mastered many of Barbra's albums over the last sixty years, to create the lacquer pressing master.

Rich with the club's atmosphere, these historic, essential recordings present a warm, charming portrait of a truly important moment in New York City history and American pop culture. Several years removed from Manhattan's flourishing jazz nightclub scene, tiny clubs such as the Bon Soir began popping up, and served as both a forum and launching pad for some of the finest vocalists and musicians the east coast had to offer.

Because of Barbra's success there, Columbia Records A&R rep David Kapralik decided that the first album from his newly-signed artist would emanate from a setting in which she had become most comfortable: the small stage at the Bon Soir. Producer Mike Berniker and recording engineers Roy Halee and Adjutor "Pappy" Theroux set up the mics and recorders, and for three nights harnessed the electrifying show that Barbra had crafted.

"The recordings we did at the Bon Soir were so authentically 'Barbra.' I produced her first three albums at Columbia, and while they were wonderful accomplishments, I thought that what she did each night at the Bon Soir transcended anything we ever did in the studio." - Mike Berniker

Columbia ultimately decided to bring Barbra into the studio to record her first album, and except for the inclusion of several tracks on compilations through the years, the Bon Soir tapes laid dormant in the vault. Now, through this extraordinary release, everyone can at last enjoy the early sound and style of an icon in-the-making: the same brilliant artist whose performances at the Bon Soir were lauded by everyone from actress Helen Hayes to lyricists Alan and Marilyn Bergman. We invite you to join us for an evening at the fabled Bon Soir. Take a seat, order a drink and revel in the magic that is Barbra. You will not be disappointed!

After 3 individual pieces on the Hamburg label PUDEL PRODUKTE, the longplaying work of the man from the Pension Stammheim is finally released. It quickly becomes clear that this is a real capacity record: 6 (on vinyl) or 8 pieces (on electricity) from the cosmos of a man who means business. You can already tell by the fact that the record is only called ROTTE and not something else. Rotte makes ROTTE and nothing named, nothing labelled, nothing carefree commodes and prisoners certainly not.

It is relatively easy to approach ROTTE. Just listen and do nothing else. No, nothing. Nothing at all. Don't give away flowers, smoke cows, talk yourself or listen to the net. Don't try to get out of the Bermuda Triangle in the process! Concentrate as if you were reading a book by Suhrkamp. Be action-less in the here and jazz. Beat the six kinds of wood out of the coffin and leave only the steel screws!

Take Rotte and ROTTE seriously. Man and work. With him, though, black is absolutely a colour. My ketamine is my petrol. First Takes only. Drilling without Club of Gore. Undisputed truth. No Lounge. The lyrics on Rotte are not a party.

It might seem a bit TOO colourless, a bit TOO intense, a bit TOO hard and dark. Too much psycho-babble. But the songs bring it and you. They are designed in such a way that nothing else works during them. Nobody would think of peeling an egg at Russian roulette. That's how you have to see it.

The songs were musically supervised by Jörn Elling Wuttke and Oliver Bradford (Thee Church Ov Acid House), by DIE NERVEN producer Ralv Milberg, by Douglas Creed (BPitch Control + Freude am Tanzen), Boris Nielsen (Käptn Peng) and Peter Armster.

There is a congenial mutual autocorrection between lyrics and music. Individually, this cannot be heard and it is not offered. By the way, you don't hear anything else at the Federal Criminal Police Office at the moment. So please.

A1 Fliege gegen Scheibe
Written & produced by Oliver Bradford, Jörn Elling Wuttke, Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

A2 Butterbrot und Peitsche
Written & produced by Peter Armster, Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

A3 Gaffa, Farbe und Zustimmung
Written & produced Jörn Elling Wuttke, Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

B1 Autosuggestion
Written by Boris Nielsen, Christian Rottler, produced by Boris Nielsen, Marc Eggert
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

B2 Deichtorhallen
Written & produced by Oliver Bradford, Jörn Elling Wuttke und Christian Rottler
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

B3 Dunkelwach
Written by Mario Willms, Christian Rottler, produced by Mario Willms
Lyrics: Christian Rottler

11th album by the one-of-a-kind collective: psychedelia and free form jazz (not jazz) trigger a sophisticated excursion into weird textures with drastic turns. Dislocated dense music full of secret connections!

Kammerflimmer Kollektief – "Schemen"

Before reason prevails, invoked by those who want everything to remain as it is, Kammerflimmer Kollektief disrupts the established supply chains of sound. It seeks more interesting ways to assemble them. Trusting in this, because of the fact that every sound that still comes out of a guitar, a bass, a harmonium, drums and electronic devices has already been taken into the common mangle of meaning anyway. Enough of all that. Here, nothing is explained. Here we speak in schemes. Polished and jerky.

The images that Kammerflimmer Kollektief conjures up therefore happen not in the focus of consciousness, but rather in its outer realms. In those to which one does not give one's full attention at the moment, but which are nevertheless perceived. For example, when a leaf falls from the ground back up to the tree in the corner of your eye, and for an instant you think this is possible, before you realize it was a small bird flying into the tree; it is in just such irritating moments between perception and realization that the art of the Kollektief also unfolds. On "Schemen", familiar fragments float gently around their core – a Fender Rhodes tone, a bass figure, a guitar motif, a masterful drum shuffle, a moment of icy stasis borrowed from the harmonium playing of Christa 'Nico' Päffgen. Triggering brief associations, they slowly rush off in other directions through free jazz-informed editing work, whereupon such zones can also arise in which perception has a few tricks ready and earlier experience suddenly breaks into the now in a completely different way. Half suspected, half seen.

Half-music like Can from Cologne – also masters of improvised editing – sometimes produced a few decades ago in their in-between moments. The first minutes of "Future Days" for example, which fade in gently, sketch a barely graspable figure emerging from all directions of the room. Kammerflimmer Kollektief also engages in similarly open moments of development. Loosely, it eludes the first formative impressions, keeping itself ready for moments that do not follow any logic of appointment. This looseness in handling makes Kammerflimmer Kollektief so fluidly audible, even when dissonant peaks and free playing arise. What Karlheinz Stockhausen is to Can's understanding of composition, the recordings of The Cocoon are to Kammerflimmer Kollektief. The Cocoon, a meeting of garage psychedelics from the Hannover area with free jazzers from the Galaxie Dream Band, whose album "While The Recording Engineer Sleeps", recorded in 1985 in unguarded moments, operates in a very similar way with decentralized perceptual ambivalences and only appeared more or less secretly four years later on Wilhelm Reich Schallspeicher. Other traces of "Schemen" lead to the debut album of Quicksilver Messenger Service. The guitars of Gary Duncan and John Cipollina, which refer to themselves in an unforced manner, are instructions to let go. They don't want to be traced in every note as a solo, but they give their music a sense that the essential takes place off center, in the mutual and intuitive gift of loving attentions. Consciousness-free.

Loving turns like the little guitar phrase that, like a kind of leitmotif, is repeatedly ghosting more or less unchanged through all of the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums. A Coricidin induced, very catchy slide idea filtered out of ancient Æther, which – who knows – maybe even centuries ago found its way from somewhere to America – the old, the eerie – and from there wafted on through the ages to southern Germany, to a smoky studio in the Upper Rhine lowlands. A memory of which even the memory no longer knows what it once reminded. Unsaid, then forgotten.

In Kammerflimmer Kollektief you will also find a friend of slowly building, unhurried music, which probably would have been appreciated by the old Franz Mesmer, who 200 years ago, after tranquilizing treatments, sometimes used to play for his patients ambient melodies on the enormous glass harmonica. However, in order not to surrender completely to the flow of one's own life energy, as Mesmer had in mind with his therapies, Kammerflimmer Kollektief occasionally adds hectic tensions, gently embraced by the droning of a sine wave generator, as if a trance could briefly refesh. This old analog sine wave generator is new in the Kammerflimmer assortment of sounds. So, the art of the Kollektief likes to dock occasionally in modern times, yet with the past in mind. Mental states begin to flicker between imagination and certainty, between culture-bound art expression and coincidences: A cawing and scraping can always just be a cawing and scraping with Kammerflimmer Kollektief, the way Andy Warhol's mushroom eater just eats a mushroom.

Heike Aumüller's cover works, which illustrate all the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums, additionally act as amplifiers of unexplained refractions. Her style consists of eye-corner art that remains so, even when looked at directly. Her shots remain disquieting because they do not jolt themselves into a reassuring order, even in retrospect. Rather than evading the fear that arises when looking at them by trying to impose some irrational rhyme or reason, that fear must simply be endured. This strategy of endurance is equally applicable to the music. The trick is to let parts be parts without compulsively seeking delusional patterns that lull us into a false sense of security and in doing so, possibly delude ourselves. In this context, freedom means not having to anxiously attach a fantasized superior meaning to everything. "Schemen" has an conspiracy disintegrating effect.


b A2 Zweites Kapitel (ruckartig) [feat. Heike Aumüller]

Roadburn festival is arguably the world's most cutting edge boutique music festival out there, and has been a fertile breeding ground for innovative acts from a broad spectrum of musical genres for many years. Last year saw the unique collaboration of Danish electro-industrial duo John Cxnnor and Hungarian doom-folk artist The Devil's Trade take the stage to deliver a sonic journey into the void of deep space. Today, we are ex- cited to release this iconic set on vinyl to immortalise this one-time convergence of three akin artistic minds. John Cxnnor is made up of one half of Danish sci-fi-sludge metal juggernaut LLNN and sees the brothers Rasmus G. and Ketil G. Sejersen collaborating with numerous fellow artists to explore the synth side of their main project. Inspired by the Terminator-franchise and the scores of other sci-fi movies, the Sejersen brothers have been creating menacing industrial electronic opuses, the frst of which a crushing rendition of a The Devil's Trade track. "We've been enjoying the music from The Devil's Trade for quite some time now," commented the duo on the release of «Dead Sister Merope», describing it as "an interesting match of musical expressions formed by the same DNA." Indeed, the haunting atmospheric folk compositions of The Devil's Trade mastermind Da'vid Mako' carry a similarly cavernous quality which, when taken to the stage of Roadburn, is only reinforced by the sonic violence of John Cxnnor. Unlike many other live records, this set is captured and excellently produced down to the finest level of detail. On centrepiece «Lullaby», the trio seem to have perfected their definition of heaviness, with heavy bass blasts beyond anything you've heard before booming from the speakers. Together John Cxnnor and The Devil's Trade reach new heights in their respective trades capturing both the pressing darkness that gathers `round a bonfire at night as well as the void darkness of deep space. FOR FANS OF Author & Punisher, Godfesh, Lustmord, LLNN, The Devil's Trade, The Body, Uniform Ltd Gold (single colour) edition!

lack Marble Vinyl! High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before.

Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me.

It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

I was lucky enough to release Godflesh 'Love is a dog from Hell' on my old label Pathological many moons ago. I was equally lucky to drop JK Flesh 'In Your Pit' on my new label PRESSURE three years ago, and then follow that up with the G36 vs JK Flesh sound clash 'Disintegration Dubs' last year. Justin has consistently handed me pure audio gold, and actually gifted me some of my favourite releases from him full stop, in an incredible career of riches which he has tirelessly. produced since Napalm Death til today. So again, I’m now totally psyched to drop 'Sewer Bait' on my label PRESSURE. The sixth album from JK Flesh, this album is a Slo-mo, Slo-fi, Sewer tech journey into utter gutter level filth. Overdriven, corroded, corrupted and absolutely blasted, it contains so many essential elements of clubland low life, but yet manages to remain beautifully original whilst pushing all levels deep into the red until it hurts in the best possible way. Anyone hooked on Andy Stott's dirtiest works, Porter Ricks deepest explorations or Techno Animal's speaker punishing grooves will find addictive nourishment within these relentlessly distorted heavyweight grooves.... Not so much hard as completely f-ckin brutal, the master stroke from Justin Broadrick however, is takin his raw materials and feeding them militantly into the dub chamber. This is like a wholesale destruction of Techno, 4/4 for people too wasted and strung out to give a f-ck about dancefloors, yet compelling enough and magnetic enough to completely insist upon fully body hypnotism in an undersized room with an oversized rig. The album's title track sounds like Drum & Bass don Digital or the peak of the Metalheadz label dragged down into hell for the ultimate bad rave trip, whilst 'Crawler' could be Killing Joke, jammin with Regis and his aggro allies from Birmingham Techno's underappreciated discography, deep in a warehouse warzone. You don’t have to dig techno to dig this dirt, you just have to enjoy having your head taken off and your body physically punished. If Jeff Mills output had been chopped, screwed and then painfully, slowly crushed, it may resemble the monolithic, psychedelic, crawl of 'Sewer Bait'.” – Kevin Martin

Tape
"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

‘’Ace Todmorden label makes a significant discovery on its own doorstep: a superb cache of ‘loner folk’ songs recorded in the early-70s by Hebden Bridge’s answer to Nick Drake’’ UNCUT PLAYLIST

"This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.” Benjamin Myers
"Defiantly Northern and out of this world" Folk Radio

Anti-counter culture loner folk from a teenage attic in the heart of rural Northern hippiedom.
Today the valley town of Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire is world-renowned as something of a bohemian backwater. It wasn’t like this back in the late 1960s and the early 1970s, when a disparate selection of radicals, drop-outs, heads, musicians, artists and writers started to be attracted to the Calder Valley. Local lad and future poet laureate Ted Hughes called the area “the fouled nest of industrialisation”.
Over time, those seeds of radicalism and collectivism ensured Hebden Bridge evolved into a place where people could be themselves and all shades of individual oddness not only tolerated but actively encouraged. But back at the turn of the dreary 1970s it remained a monochrome world defined by its unforgiving surrounding landscapes, where the old gritstone over-dwellings were stained with soot and rain lashed down for weeks.
It was here that Trevor Beales, who was born in 1953, grew up, and from where he drew musical and lyrical inspiration.
Perhaps it was this dual nationality heritage, unusual in the valley’s largely white working class population at the time, that gave the teenager Trevor Beale’s music an outsider’s perspective. The discovery of Bob Dylan, Django Reinhardt, The Byrds and James Taylor at a young age, lead to him picking up a guitar at the age of ten, and he was soon writing his own originals and performing them at local (though often remote) folk clubs and pubs.
Recorded in the attic of the family home at Ivy Bank in Charlestown on the verdant wooded slopes at the edge of Hebden Bridge between 1971 and 1974, these early recordings are collected here for the first time and mark Trevor Beales long-overdue solo debut.
In these songs is a suffer-no-fools sense of realism that is defiantly Northern, yet also expresses a worldliness that belies Beales’ young years, whilst also showcasing an inherent storyteller’s ear for narrative. Here is a postcard from the past at that crucial musical period of transition, when the idealistic exponents of the 1960s emerged into an austere new decade that was to be shaped by strikes, rising unemployment and economic upheaval.
Two aspects of this music make it remarkable: Beales’ natural ability showcases a sophisticated guitar-picking style that was leagues ahead of many of his (older, more recognised) contemporaries. This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Dave Evans, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.
Secondly, his lyrics are a far cry from either the naïve bedroom scribblings of a teenager who has barely left his upland home, nor do they fall foul of the type of lazy cliches and sub-Tolkien imagery that was still in abundance in the early 1970s. Most remarkably the earliest songs here were laid down less than a year after he left school (an unearthed report written by his headteacher on July 3rd 1970 noted he had “a considerable ability and interest in music”, though his education ended abruptly when he simply walked out of a science lesson one sunny day while at sixth form, never to return).
Trevor’s music is grounded in reality – his reality. ‘Then I’ll Take You Home’, for example, considers the Guru Marajai, who encouraged his acolytes to give over their worldly possessions, yet who drove a Rolls Royce and lived like a playboy. Unsurprisingly, this latest in a long line of spiritual charlatans found several followers in Hebden Bridge, and Beales casts a disdainful eye over the growing popularity for such false prophets.
With its ancient narratives and propensity for myth-making, folk has certainly produced it’s fair share of cult figures who have enjoyed rediscovery or career resurgence and with this debut compilation of home recordings, rescued from cassette tapes, Trevor Beales might just be the latest addition. Certainly he was the real deal.
Crucially, Beales' music is never jaded or cynical, but instead possesses a poet’s ear, a strong sense of self and some sound critical faculties. And much of it recorded at an age when he could neither vote nor order a pint of heavy.
Trevor Beales died suddenly and unexpectedly on March 29th 1987, aged 33. He left behind Christine and their young child Lydia.