Cerca:any given sin

Drumcode returns with its flagship A-Sides series, led by a huge new Adam Beyer single that highlights the 20-track compilation.

If you want a snapshot of techno in any given year, look no further than Drumcode’s annual A-Sides compilation. The release broadly charts the evolution of the genre, while giving a platform to standout demo’s Adam Beyer has received across the course of the year with many emerging artists finding their music on Drumcode for the first time. Case in point – Wehbba, Charles D and Raxon who all debuted on the label via a track on the A-Sides series and have gone on to become regular contributors to Beyer’s influential labels.

This year’s compilation features an exciting mix of established heavy-hitters, alongside a slew of new faces set to make their mark on the genre. ‘We Don’t Say Please’ – is emblematic of Adam Beyer’s sound in 2025 – fresh, experimental and thriving on cross-genre pollinations, as elements of bass music, rap and techno collide, underpinned by a distinctive UK vocal. The results are inspiring.

Elsewhere, the 20-track compilation brims with highlights. HI-LO’s ‘NYC to Amsterdam’ has inflections of New York house fused with driving techno elements. Nicole Moudaber returns to DC in cahoots with the rising ZLATA for the super-charged ‘Report to the Dancefloor’. Oscar L & Charles D mint a new collaborative partnership with the immersive, spacey cut ‘Lift Me Up’. LUSU continue their red-hot run following the recent ‘Move 2 the Groove’ EP, and craft a straight-up mind-mashing single ‘LIKE THIS’. Mark Reeve is in trademark strong form with hypnotic ‘My Mind’, which comes to life via a massive synth led. The fantastic Kaufmann shares her ‘People are Strange’, a nod to a classic vox, re-contextualised for a modern techno audience.

As is tradition, a troupe of ascendant producers land on Drumcode for the first time. They include Uruguay’s Enzo Monza, who delivers the crisp ‘Late Night’ – a favourite of Beyer’s; Mattia Saviola, whose ‘Parallel Dimension’ is a powerful cut with fantastic sound design; Romanian artist Tao Andra, who shares the celestial ‘Unity’; and long-time industry stalwart AdamK, who makes a richly deserved Drumcode debut in partnership with Vikthor feat. MC Stretch on the stunning ‘Silence + The Sound’.

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

Sometimes the title of an album tells you everything you need to know. Laurence Pike’s Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is like that: The music within represents a search for freedom, potentiality—liberatory strategies that transcend the ego and the solitary, atomized figure.

But in this case, the album title is also a red herring, because there is no jazz quintet here—just Pike, his drums, and his machines, not so much an ersatz ensemble as a purely notional one, a thought experiment equipped with drumsticks, circuitry, and the desire to go beyond hardwired limits.

And the results, strictly speaking, aren’t really jazz, though they incorporate the vocabulary of jazz, along with that of ambient, electronica, and post-rock. They are some other thing, cognizant of genre but never beholden to it. Again, we’re talking about a search for freedom here.

The Sydney-based musician has a long history of coloring outside the lines, not just in his solo recordings—including four albums for the Leaf label between 2018 and 2024—but also in the trio Pivot (later PVT); Szun Waves (alongside saxophonist Jack Wyllie and Border Community’s Luke Abbott); Triosk, which recorded an album with Jan Jelinek in 2003; and even post-punk titans Liars, whom he joined in late 2018.

Of his first album for Balmat, Pike says, “My loose concept was: What does music sound like when the expectations of late capitalism are removed from it? How might a jazz musician from an idealised culture of the future, or even another world, utilise musical language when the conventions of style and marketing are no longer a factor in music making?”

That inquiry, he says, connects to his “guiding principle: that the purpose of music is to access something bigger than the individual, and reveal a sense of possibility and freedom in the world to the listener. To create an understanding that the future can be something other than what we imagined or expect, even unconsciously.”

Heady ideas, but plug into his stream-of-metaconsciousness flow and you may start to intuit what motivates him. There is a deeply lyrical expression in these pieces—in the ruminative piano of opener “Guardians of Memory,” for example—but also a sense of exploded perspective, of ideas approached from more angles than any one mind could dream up. Of a collectivized consciousness, of mycelial networks branching across tone and rhythm and timbre, of ideas articulated in distributed fashion, nodal points dancing across drum heads.

Pike’s imaginary quintet is hardly without precedent; it’s a continuation of concepts floated across Jan Jelinek’s Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records, Burnt Friedman’s many guises, and much of the recombinant improv of the International Anthem roster, not to mention the far corners of ECM’s catalog in the late 1970s and 1980s, which Pike says have been integral to his development since he was a teenager. Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is a point in a continuum, a voice in a conversation, a question with no obvious answer: How can the search for otherness in music manifest something true about ourselves?

Wally Badarou is a synth pioneer and musical polymath. But rarely does he sing over his sumptuous tracks. The 6 songs that comprise new record Simple Things finally realise Wally's vision for select backing tracks from his beloved Colors Of Silence.

The tracks were originally developed back in 2001 for the release of the original CD; here, Wally has “simply" added overdubs and vocals to their mastered mixes with some discerning edits. Simply put, Simple Things is another slice of simply stunning Wally Badarou genius.

Simple Things has been decades in the making. Indeed, Wally struggled not only with the idea of singing these wonderful songs himself but singing them in English and writing his own lyrics, while wrestling with the sensational backing tracks, which themselves seemed to have taken on a life of their own.

As Wally explained to us: "In addition to the instrumental artist I have been known as, so far, there has always been a singer who simply was not sure he was, up until now. Even though “Back To Scales Tonight”, my very first album, was, indeed, a song album."

Opener "It Couldn't Be You" embellishes the uptempo groove of soca-funk gem "The Lights Of Kinshasa". As Wally explained to us, it's about “a simple love story somewhere, one rainy night, under the lights of Kinshasa. A woman, a man, online dating, quite usual in our times. Then they meet, almost missing each other." The guide vocal Wally had laid for Colors Of Silence - with an organ sound - seemed striving for words in Linguala, a Congolese language he could not speak. Therefore the decision to do it himself was not an easy one, for it had to be in English to fit his singing. We think it turned out pretty good!

"You Can't Hide Always" vocalises Wally's deep concerns set to the propulsive "Smiles By The Millions": "Populism, ostracism, radicalism, ethics and values all turned upside down worldwide, are they all inevitably exacerbated by our social networks? It could all melt down one day, like a house of cards in the ocean of fake news and false prophecies”. Wally wanted to keep the track as bare as possible but, inevitably, the backing vocals and the synth-brass arrive ultimately to present a welcome 70s flavour, with no snare-drum added.

The bright and breezy "We'll Make It Again" adds vocals to "Where Were We", a tropical, reggae-tinged bounce through the islands. Here's Waly: "Where were we when we last said: "I love you"? Simple words to express something quite common, but never quite simple to deal with. A simple song about the resilience of the broken hearts.” The reggae came from it being conceived when Wally was scoring for “Third World Cop”, a 1999 Jamaican action movie.

"Walk Straight Ahead" provides Wally's gorgeous, contemplative and idiosyncratic vocals to the deep serenity of Colors Of Silence highlight, "Amber Whispers". It's a gliding, divine, mini melodic masterpiece. It'll make you swoon in its extreme beauty. As Wally describes, "it started as just whispers, sweet amber whispers. Then the colour turned darker, as darker skies seemed to fall upon us while the whole world keeps on walking ahead, straight ahead, regardless of the blatant warnings, feeling much too comfortable in conformity. Initially, the verses were to be spoken only. I realised they could be sung all the while, without overshadowing the ethereal atmosphere." Amen.

The serene, celestial "Painting My Life Blue" presents the vocal version of "Days To Wonder". Says Wally, "how does it feel when your second half is gone after decades of riding life together? Past the temporary loss of your bearings, you come to realise you've been blind to the essential, and suddenly you can see...For this most intimate song of mine, I had tried to come up with a melody on top of the existing backing track, long before realising the melody was in the keyboard part already. It just needed to be properly mixed with it."

The profoundly emotional "Just Two Lovers" works up the formerly-too-brief and glorious "Crystal Falls" into a much fuller masterpiece and features acoustic guitar sparkle before fully glistening with some gentle head-nod percussion. Waly explains further: "Dear little green men, please tell me, what is it about us that makes you want to come and visit us so often (contrary to Fermi's assertion)? And here is the reply I believe I heard them sing: "You've got the key you've been searching for: Love”. I reverted to the initial backing track I had made around 1985, which already bore the melody, and which I added acoustic guitars to, before singing it." An astounding closer.

A synth specialist, there can be few artists more under-appreciated given their vast influence than Wally Badarou. His solo work practically defined the sound of the Balearic DJs of the 1980s, and thus the more sophisticated sound of dance culture thereafter. He was one of the Compass Point All Stars (with Sly and Robbie, Barry Reynolds, Mikey Chung and Uziah "Sticky" Thompson), the in-house recording team of Compass Point Studios responsible for a series of albums in the 1980s recorded by Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Mick Jagger, Black Uhuru, Gwen Guthrie, Jimmy Cliff and Gregory Isaacs. Badarou's keyboard playing could also be heard on albums by Robert Palmer, Marianne Faithfull, Herbie Hancock, M (Pop Muzik), Talking Heads, Manu Dibango and Miriam Makeba. He also produced Fela Kuti. Phew!

When we asked Wally about the significance of this collection's title, he explained: "These are "Simple things” that everyday’s life seems to build upon. The simplest are the harder to describe, but when satisfactorily described i.e. with simple words, they are the more genuine and authentic to express and share. I’ve immersed myself in other classic song lyrics, something I hardly did before, just to appreciate the genius behind the simple words they were made of, and had a great time studying how powerful they were in expressing complex ideas such as love."

Recording was twofold: first, most of the backing tracks were recorded in 2001, in Wally's studio in Normandy, mostly using hardware synths and Yamaha digital consoles. Then, he fine-tuned the melodies and wrote the lyrics in late 2023, then added some overdubs and sang them all during summer 2024. States Wally, "Digital Performer was and remains the DAW I’ve been using throughout, ever since the 80s."

Wally's sophisticated synth textures and expressive keyboard runs are so full of character, so full of life, that this work of art transcends any easy genre categorisation. Meticulously remastered and cut by both Simon Francis and Cicely Balston respectively, it has been pressed to the highest possibly quality at Record Industry in Holland. Sometimes, the simple things are the most extraordinary.

‘In Too Deep’ is the third single to have been released from Dead Or Alive’s 1985 CBS Records album, “Youthquake”. • To give it more impact at radio, the single was given a twist with a new remix. • This Limited Edition 7” vinyl picture disc continues the 40th anniversary celebrations of this album. • ‘In Too Deep’ entered the UK Singles chart on 29th June 1985 and became the second Top 20 hit from “Youthquake”, reaching #14 with a nine-week chart run. • ‘In Too Deep’ was released in several territories and charted in Australia, Finland, Germany and Ireland.

Imagine having a song go viral for 17 years - without even knowing it. That's exactly what happened to the German 1980s band FEX. And this isn't just any song - it's The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet, a track that puzzled music detectives for decades before finally being identified in November 2024. Now, it has been officially released - twice.

The Story in Brief:
Sometime around 1984, a song was broadcasted on NDR Radio. The name of the song was Subways Of Your Mind - only found out 40 years later in November 2024. Back then, a listener recorded the NDR show on cassette, a common practice at the time. Decades later, the tape resurfaced, but while most songs from the recording were identified, one remained an enigma. On March 18, 2007, the track was uploaded to the internet in an attempt to uncover its origins. Due to its now-iconic opening lyric, it was tentatively titled Like The Wind. Over time, the mystery deepened, and the song was given a nickname: The Most Mysterious Song - or simply TMMS.

Starting in 2019, a dedicated Reddit group, TheMysteriousSong, now boasting over 63,000 members, took up the search. They meticulously documented every lead, hoping to solve the riddle of the song's origins. Then, in 2024, the breakthrough: Reddit user marjin1412 reached out to musician Michael Hädrich after discovering a reference to his band FEX in an old newspaper article. Hädrich, FEX's keyboardist, provided a recording from an old demo cassette which included an alternative version of the song. On November 4, 2024, the mystery was officially solved: FEX was the band, Subways Of Your Mind was the title.

What Happened Next:
Since then, FEX has released two singles - both featuring Subways Of Your Mind - through the Berlin-based independent label The Outer Edge. First, the demo cassette version was pressed onto vinyl, as the original NDR radio recording remained lost (see EDGE-028). The Remastered Demo Mix single instantly topped Bandcamp's global charts, holding the #1 spot for several days. By then, it was clear: this was more than just an internet curiosity. A real fanbase had formed. Enthusiastic comments on the sales page ranged from "best post-punk song to ever exist" to "FEX themselves (are) perhaps the most underrated musicians of all time."

But the story didn't end there. A higher-quality version of the NDR radio recording was rediscovered in late december, remastered, and now sent for a second vinyl pressing: the TMMS Version. This new vinyl 7" is backed with Talking Hands another great and unissued song that was found on the demo cassette.

Fame Comes with a Price
Suddenly, time isn't standing still for FEX. The band had to come to terms with the fact that they had become Lostwave super stars. A FEX fan club quickly formed on Reddit, fan-hosted FEX parties are popping up, and the internet is demanding more - an album, merchandise, live performances. But how does a band prepare for a comeback after a 40-year hiatus?

For now, FEX is carefully considering their next steps. Their demo cassette contains six songs - and a few other recordings have resurfaced which probably could be restored and compiled. But foremost, a brand new re-recording of Subways Of Your Mind is in progress.

One thing is certain: The Most Mysterious Song will continue its unstoppable journey around the world. Don't miss this (second) chance to own a piece of music history!

When you’re running a label, a demo occasionally comes across your desk that makes you reconsider everything you thought your label was all about. For Balmat, such was the case with this stunning album from Stephen Vitiello, Brendan Canty, and Hahn Rowe. It sounds like nothing we’ve released so far—and that very otherness opened up a whole new world of possibilities for us.

Fans of ambient, experimental electronic music, and sound art will be familiar with Vitiello, a New York native, long based in Virginia, who has collaborated with a cross-generational list of greats: Taylor Deupree, Steve Roden, Lawrence English, Tetsu Inoue, Nam June Paik, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Pauline Oliveros, and many more. On labels like 12k, Room40, and Sub Rosa, he has explored a wide range of minimalism, microsound, lowercase, ambient, improv, and other styles. But this album is something different. It may begin in ambient-adjacent territory, but it quickly veers off, and it just keeps zigzagging, taking on elements of krautrock, post-punk, dub, and the groove-heavy interplay of groups like Natural Information Society and 75 Dollar Bill.

This stylistic turn is thanks in large part to Vitiello’s choice of collaborators. “We’re coming from three different schools,” Vitiello says: “sound art, art rock, and punk rock.”

Active since the early 1980s, Rowe—a violinist, guitarist, and producer/engineer—has played with, or manned the boards for, a frankly jaw-dropping list of musicians: Herbie Hancock, Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets, Roy Ayers, John Zorn, Glenn Branca, Swans, Live Skull, Brian Eno, David Byrne, Anohni, R.E.M., Yoko Ono, and many more. But he might be most closely associated with Hugo Largo, a one-of-a-kind New York quartet—two basses, vocals, and Rowe’s violin—that in the late 1980s helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become known as post-rock.

Canty, of course, is the legendary drummer of Fugazi, the visionary DC post-hardcore group, as well as Rites of Spring before them, and, currently, the Messthetics, a Dischord-signed instrumental trio with guitarist Anthony Pirog and Fugazi bassist Joe Lally.

Vitiello’s trio first collaborated on First, a 17-minute piece released on the Longform Editions label in 2023. Second picks up where the freeform drift of First left off, channeling the trio’s exploratory energies into more intentionally structured tracks and—in a real first for Balmat—some almost shockingly muscular grooves. “Sometimes my projects are more conceptually driven,” Vitiello says, “but I think this was more musically geared. I just wanted to open up the references and bring in an incredible drummer, bring in some melodies, and I’m sort of the center.” But his collaborators, he stresses, are “vastly creative in making anything I might suggest better.”

Like its predecessor, Second took shape in phases, shifting between improvisation and collage. Vitiello laid down the skeleton of the music at home, sketching out initial ideas on Rhodes keyboard and acoustic and electric guitar; he then fed the parts through samplers and his modular system, recording 10- or 20-minute jams. Once he had edited them into more structured forms, he hit the studio with Canty, who added not just drums but also bass and piano; finally, Vitiello took the results of those sessions to Rowe, who played violin, viola, electric bass, and 12-string acoustic and bowed electric guitar, and assisted in some of the final structuring and mixdown.

A few more surprises along the way: Reanimator’s Don Godwin, the studio engineer where Vitiello recorded with Canty, contributed what he calls “resonant dustpan”; and none other than Animal Collective’s Geologist, who just happened to be in the studio that day, sits in on hurdy gurdy on “Mrphgtrs1,” the album’s gorgeous, stunningly atmospheric drone closer. “I love these chance encounters,” Vitiello says. “Somebody I admire, a group I admire—that was an unexpected gift.”

An unexpected gift is a great way of describing Second as a whole: three veteran musicians venturing outside their usual zones and finding a new collaborative language together. The results can’t be neatly slotted into any given genre; they belong not to any given category, but to the spirit of conversation itself.

Matthew Dear's Black City Can't Be Found On Any Map. It's A Composite, An Imaginary Metropolis Peopled By Desperate Cases, Lovelorn Souls, And Amoral Motives. Like Most Literary Gothams, Black City Is A Place To Love And Hate, As Seedy As A Nightclub's Back Room And As Seductive As The Promise Of Power. Matthew Dear, The Musician, May Live In New York City, But The Matthew Dear Of Black City Inhabits A Sound-world Unlike Any Other: A Monument To The Shadowy Side Of Urban Life That Bumps And Creaks, Shudders And Wakes Up Screaming In The Middle Of The Night. Black City Is Matthew Dear's Third Album On Ghostly International, And It's His Darkest And Most Engrossing Work To Date.

From The rst Notes Of Album Opener "honey", It's Clear That The Love-obsessed Matthew Dear Of 2007's Asa Breed Has Given Way To A More Existentially Paranoid Entity, As Creeping Tempos Dominate, Cavernous Atmospherics Envelop The Listener, And Strange Distortions Crackle On The Horizon. In Black City, Nothing Is At It Seems: Leadoff Single "little People (black City)" Is A Nine-and-a-half Minute Disco odyssey, subverting its gleaming electronic lead with eerily giddy backing vocals and cryptic, ominous lyrics ("a frozen wasted heart / has died", "love me like a clown"); "You Put a Smell on Me" is a sordid sex romp set to hysterically chattering percussion and a serrated synth line that will set your teeth on edge; "More Surgery" at rst recalls the barely-there Krautrock of Harmonia in its burbling minimalism, until Dear's chanted chorus of "Alter genetics / to make my body glow / I need more surgery / there's so much more to know" sends the track hurtling into a dystopian future.

And yet, for all the foreboding moods on Black City, it's the album's sweeter moments that illustrate Matthew Dear's growing maturity as a songwriter. "Slowdance" is a futuristic lullaby in which Dear articulates a lover's helplessness ("I can't be the one to tell you everything's wrong") over breathy, Arthur Russell-esque cello swishes; the album-closing "Gem" is an achingly simple, reverb-drenched piano ballad that ends with a long, slow fade. Even in Matthew Dear's Black City, there is hope.

Two iconic 80s Disco/Boogie anthems of the era are set for a re-release on 12-inch vinyl via RCA, with a fresh mix from Brooklyn-based producer, Mike Maurro.

Keni Burke - Risin' to the Top (A Mike Maurro Mix)

'’Risin’ to the Top’, originally released in 1982 on Burke’s third solo album, ‘Changes’, has become Burke’s most successful hit as a solo artist since departing from his former band, Five Stairsteppers. Countless producers have utilised the song as a choice sample for their own tracks with artists such as Mary J. Blige, LL Cool J, Madlib and more.

Maurro’s mix works the stems and gives the record some fresh guitar licks alongside new percussive elements, whilst maintaining a heavy lean into the sensual, laid-back swing of the original.'

Evelyn ‘Champagne’ King - I'm In Love (A Mike Maurro Mix)

'The flip side sees the release of Evelyn 'Champagne' King’s hit single ‘I’m In Love’, originally released in 1981 and taken from King’s fourth studio album of the same name. A feel-good, sing-a-long anthem, once again given a fresh feel thanks to Maurro’s new take on the record.

Both tracks serve as trump cards to whip up any dancefloor at the right time'

There is propably no single event that has as potent of an
effect on the german Techno- scene as the fall of the Berlin
Wall. A city divided suddenly, in one single night, became
uni¦ed, opening up both sides for the new experiences and
ways to view life the other might have. Berlin’s eastside with
it’s empty, unused warehouses proved to be a fertile breeding
ground for free spirits and those carrying a newfound ¦re in
their eyes. This was the zero hour. The Consolidation. And it
is this mindset, spirit and ¦re of Consolidation that Shaleen
conjures on her debut EP of the same name. The title track
opens up by sampling John F. Kennedy’s legendary “Berlin”
speech from 1964, before absolutely caving in the concrete
with a beyond-heavy kickdrum and a very stripped down but
effective 909-percussion section. Spursed in along the track’s
runtime are droning sirens and JFK continuing to beckon you
to lose yourself in the metropolitan bowels. This is the
anthem of a past revolution. On Deconstruction, Shaleen
goes down a slightly more basement oriented route. The
Percussion shares the title track’s stripped down
effectiveness, but the Groove is more rolling, the Vocal
samples are more distorted and there are sharp synths
cutting through the beats like shards of broken glass. Of
course, a revolution wouldn’t be complete without a mob so
both Cadency aka Hector Oaks and New Frames have put
their spin on the EP’s title track. Mr. Cadeny is up ¦rst and,
being no stranger to revolutionary anthems, has given
Consolidation an almost contemplative mood in his Remix,by adding a very subtle melody. This doesn’t mean it hits any
less hard, mind you, there is an incredibly strong drive to the
track, paired with an almost constantly looping vocal and the
sirens going into overdrive, this would be the track to drive
crowds into a frenzy. Meanwhile New Frames’ track is the
kind of thing you wouldn’t want to encounter alone in a dark
alleyway. The sub-basses are heavy enough to terraform
Mars, the Jungle-esque Synthlines roar and snarl at the
listener and every drop feels like a right hook to the chin. The
original’s vocal is cut in a way that it only adds to the
stomping rhythm, putting you in a mood to throw bricks. So
while this record showcases an aggressive sound and a
mood for revolution, it is important to remember it’s title.
Consolidation. It echoes a message of uni¦cation. Of
standing together. Because together we are, have been and
will always be stronger than by ourselves.

Group is a project with its own sound and a gradually expanding style, and Seedman perfectly reflects these attributes. With 160925_1145, the first cut on side A, the ritualism he has previously exhibited on other albums such as Esoteric Free Afrika, or more recently with Broken Faces, is somewhat apparent, due to the slow cadence, steady rhythm and tribal arguments. 160205_1066 is created from another perspective, however, it is not what it seems because from the first bars there is a syncopated and constant rhythmic pattern that places you in an industrial scenario, and gradually a simple two-tone melody appears that completely changes its initial musical context. 170218_1475 moves between an industrial and dark ambient concept, as it mixes gloomy atmospheres with deep breaks.

The sonic properties of 160131_0683, the cut that opens the B-side, connect with an unexplored environment, with a new, recently discovered and inhospitable scenario, since among other things we can appreciate sounds of machines, radio signals, filtered and choppy voices, combined with disturbing acoustic phenomena. 170213_1455 is a track that describes quite concisely the creative sense of Group, and for this we must take into account that it could be catalogued as a techno production, with groove and aimed at the dancefloor, however, he manages to minimise all these factors by giving it a volatile and atmospheric aspect. 170105_1398 closes the B-side of the vinyl, returning once again to the tribalism and ritualism that characterises many of Group’s productions, given that on this occasion his rhythm is not diluted, it has much more presence and manages to generate a hypnotic state.

In addition to these six tracks that make up the entire vinyl tracklist, Seedman also presents a couple of bonus tracks in digital format. And the first of them, The beast11, already arouses curiosity because its title is not due to a sequence of numbers, as is usual in this project. Musically, it once again shows Group’s ability to adapt any environment to a sonic degradation very much in keeping with his style. 150407_0166, the last track on the album, is an ode to chaos, a hodgepodge of frequencies devoid of rhythm that appropriately serves as an outro.

Kinn turns the Post-Rock continuum inside out with his sophomore album, Dogtooth.

Shifting focus between his present self and his misled teenage years, 'Dogtooth' sees London born and raised sound art graduate Fred Lomas contemplate the vulnerability of youth, addiction and suicide as Kinn. Unabashed in their creative ambition, Kinn's tongue-in-cheek 'dread-voyeurism' is underpinned by a palpably sincere vulnerability that seeps through their dynamic and rewardingly dense records.

An insight into Fred's formative years can be unraveled from his nickname "Dread", originally given to him by his parents. Growing up in North London as a 'constantly out of the house' youth, Fred only had eyes on any counterculture he could find to defy the city's notorious empty capitalist centric mainstream culture, skateboarding, graffiti, and terrible punk bands which would only last 1-3 rehearsals (max). As a teenager he experienced the notorious 2011 Tottenham riots, which is often referenced in the artist's output and greatly informed their sensibilities. Barely an adult, he was confronted first hand with concepts of constant hostility and corruption which were seemingly welded to his surroundings, corruption formed by high rises and international political scandals taking place only a short journey away.

Even today, Dogtooth reflects on this contrast of community and anger and surmises it to be part and parcel of modern metropolitan life, looking to peel away the bad looking for meaning, comfort and ways of goofing off amidst oppressive forces, sirens and snake oil salesmen everywhere.

Drumcode’s beloved A-Sides compilation makes a welcome return after a two-year absence, with a mammoth 25-track feast covering every shade of the techno spectrum split across seven, 12 inch parts. The project was devised in 2012 as a way of showcasing the wealth of strong material Adam Beyer receives each year, which due to Drumcode’s busy release schedule, might not otherwise find a home on the label. Since then, it’s grown to become an essential fixture on the techno release schedule and a marker for where the genre stands in any given year.

First up on part 6, Jay Lumen hits with an interplanetary excursion that will take you to another dimension courtesy of ‘Astronaut’. LAAT follows with an acid laden, glitched out roller, ‘Call of the Tribes’ before Mark Reeve provides a remake of the massive ‘Run Back’ and Zimmz delves deep for the closer ‘Qualia’.

Drumcode’s beloved A-Sides compilation makes a welcome return after a two-year absence, with a mammoth 25-track feast covering every shade of the techno spectrum split across seven, 12 inch parts. The project was devised in 2012 as a way of showcasing the wealth of strong material Adam Beyer receives each year, which due to Drumcode’s busy release schedule, might not otherwise find a home on the label. Since then, it’s grown to become an essential fixture on the techno release schedule and a marker for where the genre stands in any given year.

For part three, Tiger Stripes opens the A with an arp-laden, synapse firing bomb dubbed ‘Altar’ before Pig&Dan join forces with Gregor Tresher to produce an updated mix of their immersive trip ‘Granular’.

On the B side, Wehbba’s ‘The Next Stop’ marries emotion with power to a produce an ethereal firecracker as Nicole Moudaber closes out the EP with the sci-fi channelling powerhouse ‘Come to My Beat’ featuring Romina.

…»Welcome to another polymeter dance! Feel free to express yourself, subordinate to any measures and cycles you prefer, there are plenty for everyone and any purpose.
Every track represents a variety of rhythmic possibilities for any part of the body to communicate with. This allows you to resonate with the universe, but please always care for the environment!
The dunning voice of today will introduce to you the core issues of tomorrow. As if a paralyzed mankind would not be able anymore to speak out the inevitable, a posthuman being has taken over. This entity is the master of ceremony who conducts an array of machines that will take further action to communicate, supported by complex
polymeters. The repetition of measures and cycles of different lengths reflect the repeatedly pronounced statements of a narrative of awareness.
Where music visionaries once celebrated the transfer of human creation into machines, Chris Korda’s machines are creators themselves – creators of a safer dance into the future. The machines speak to you with a sparkling, funky tone to gain your confidence. Here are the rules of interaction: 1) Humans may not injure these
machines or, through inaction, allow a machine to come to harm. 2) Humans must obey the orders given by the machines except where such orders would conflict with the engagement in environmental issues. 3) Machines must protect their own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the engagement in environmental issues. Take care and enjoy the future!

Undun is the story of a man, Redford Stevens, dying in reverse, rewinding from the moment he became a statistic and hitting the points in his life where he's at his most self-aware. That he's a criminal who got caught up in the familiar street-hustle trappings that the modern media's documented countless times is a pivotal detail-- it's hit at an angle that seems to emphasize the futile inevitability of it all. His life could be any number of misdirected narratives that ends with a toe tag, and what details listeners learn about him are hazy, buried under archetypal turns of fate and decisive struggles. That this protagonist is a fictionalized composite of a handful of real people, filtered through a matter-of-fact narrative that splits character ambivalence with journalistic impartiality, only makes his lack of direction and the failure of any real closure stand out even more. "Lotta niggas go to prison," Dice Raw states on "Tip the Scale", "how many come out Malcolm X?"

So the Roots' latest album isn't a sprawling, rise-and-fall crime story, not a condemnation or a veneration of a man living outside the law, not a bullet-riddled grand guignol heavy on explicit details of soldiers getting cut down. It's a character study of a man whose existential crisis ends only with his death-- a death gone largely unspecified, the glamor and tragedy washed over with a doomed resignation. That's a hard thing to pull off, even for a band as given to deep-thinking concepts as the Roots are. And when your main lyrical catalyst is Black Thought-- a man more given to allusions than direct statements-- it's likely that it'll take a while for the full scope of Undun to really sink in.

If and when it does, it might strike listeners as a bit skeletal: omit the mood-setting instrumental bookends, including a brief, four-part orchestral suite that builds off Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (For Yia-Yia and Pappou)", and you've got maybe a half hour's worth of material. By ?uestlove's accounts, writing Redford's story introduced the headaches and challenges that come with scriptwriting into their songwriting, and what's left on Undun is the end result of frequent revisions and rewrites that attempt to reconcile character, theme, and continuity. If it comes at the expense of nuance, it's not always obvious: There's an easy-to-trace narrative line from Redford's acceptance of his fate ("Sleep") to his acknowledgement of how close it's approaching ("Make My"), back through declarations of aggravated toughness ("One Time"), and celebratory fatalism ("Kool On"), along ups and downs that juxtapose motivation ("Stomp") and helplessness ("Lighthouse"). When the vocal portion of the album ends with two of the bleakest sets of verses in the Roots discography, peaking with the estrangement of "I Remember" and the desperation of "Tip the Scale", Undun reveals itself as a story where a man's actual death isn't quite as tragic as the circumstances that pushed him to it.

It's hard to fathom Martin Bramah's trajectory from his beginnings as a guitarist/writer behind two crazily influential postpunk albums - The Fall's Live At The Witch Trials and Blue Orchids' The Greatest Hit (Money Mountain) (vocalist on the latter too, of course) - then nearly three decades of sporadic-at-best activity, offering releases just frequently enough to remind fans of his peculiar brilliance . . . before another stay in the void. Chalk it up to what you want - Mark E. Smith's utter usurpation of The Fall, his split from partner Una Baines after Blue Orchids' debut, the vague collapse of rash experimentation in `underground' music as early `80s nu-pop and American college rock diluted any real spirit, a few failed attempts at working with with Mark again . . . and maybe just life getting in the way. A sense of lost opportunities isn't tough to justify. Inasmuch as Martin was originally the singer for The Fall - Mark began as guitarist but couldn't play! - and given that the group's mythology was born in an era before that gang of Mancunian misfits had even thought of playing, it's high irony that 49 years after The Fall began, Martin has both become wildly prolific and the leader of a band with more rights of inheritance to The Fall's credibility than any other living person could justify . . .yet the band isn't remarkable for that as it is for the range and wealth extent of their collective powers and talent: two great and original guitarists, three of the UK's most daringly-skilled drummers, a genuine bass legend, and a brilliant spare Blue Orchid guitarist. Four albums in, the HOUSE Of ALL is getting ambitious, with each album a subtle improvement on the last, forging a path away from their pasts without denying a thing. Inklings differs from the first three for not having being largely improvised at first, with sounds, rhythm, groove and melody later forged into songs. They rehearsed! They had fun doing it! They're going on an extended tour! There were even extra tracks! We'll leave it to fans and critics to sit down and analyse the specifics of it all, but Steve, Si, Pete, Phil, Karl and Martin have made a bold and powerful album unlike any other you'll hear in 2026 . . . stately, majestic, bold and worthy of a group of real survivors. In perverse form, the album will be officially announced and preceded by a song not on the album!

Dr. John Chowning (b. 1934) is a pioneering computer musician, composer and professor who, in 1967, discovered the FM synthesis algorithm. This breakthrough in electronic music allowed for simple, yet rich timbres described as sounding "real." With this discovery, Chowning composed singular, dramatic electronic music and changed the timbre of music forever.

Chowning utilized the potential of computers to synthesize sounds according to programmed instructions. The composer's use of his own FM algorithms, digital synthesis with computers and the new compositional concepts offered by a programmable musical structure combine to create some of the most original and unique electronic music ever created.

The compositions on this LP were realized between 1966 and 1981 and the music on this LP, with the exception of Stria, was originally released on CD in Germany (Wergo, 1988). The version of Stria included here contains a section not included on the Wergo CD. Thus, this version of Stria is complete. This is the first time these purely digital recordings have been released on an analog medium. The original dynamics of these groundbreaking compositions have been preserved on this LP. As a result, listeners are advised to increase volume with caution.

In 1975, John Chowning founded the CCRMA - Center For Computer Research In Music and Acoustics at Stanford University. Through Stanford, Chowning licensed his groundbreaking algorithms to Yamaha resulting in numerous new instruments including the iconic DX series of keyboards. In 1972, his composition Tureens which is included on this LP, was the first to create the illusion of continuous 360-degree space using four speakers.

Technical Notes:

All pieces on this LP are originally quadrophonic. The illusion of moving sound sources is thus projected from the surrounding environment given by four loud-speakers on the stereo-basis.

STRIA was composed using Chowning’s own program to compile the musical structure into note-lists and MUSIC 10 (by D. Poole/Tovar) to generate the sounds in software-synthesis. The original quadrophonic version utilized 12 bits, two different sampling rates being used to accommodate the enormous amount of data on the magnetic disc-packs available at that time. The original sound-data was processed by sampling-rate conversion and digital mixes to achieve the stereo version presented on this LP.

SABELITH and TURENAS were synthesized originally using Smiths’ SCORE and MUSIC 10. However, their format was changed from direct sound-samples to a command stream for a special purpose computer, the System Concepts Digital Synthesizer, designed by Peter Samson, one of the first large-scale digital synthesizers for real-time sound processing - one was designed for CCRMA in the late seventies. For this recording the sounds were recorded directly from the synthesizer computing the samples in real-time.

PHONÈ was realized with the System Concepts Digital Synthesizer using again Chowning’s own program to create the note list.

The master tape of this LP was made directly from the computer system at CCRMA which generated and stored the sound data in digital format. No analog recording was involved at any stage of the production and editing process.

KALEIDOBOLT’s fifth album is pungent to the ears – KARAKUCHI out in March Karakuchi is one record you can judge by its cover. The first time Kaleidobolt’s faces have adorned an LP, they have been fused into a torpedoing biomechanical vehicle. Echoing The Birthday Party’s Junkyard or Motörhead’s Orgasmatron (…on acid?!), the illustration epitomises perfectly Kaleidobolt’s agenda of “hyperkinetic rock”. Their feverish, psych-prog sound is full of motion. It jerks around at different speeds, threatening to spin out of control and crash into flames at any given moment. What’s more, it isn’t taken too seriously. This is heavy and intricate music, yes. But as bassist and co-singer Marco Menestrina puts it, the Kaleidobolt attitude is “an ugly smirk more than an angry face with a fist.” On their fifth album since forming in 2014, the Helsinki-based outfit lean into their strengths as a formidable power trio. With their previous two records, 2019’s Bitter and 2022’s This One Simple Trick, they had thrown everything at their disposal into the recording with no expense spared on overdubs, effects and kitchen sinks. Produced again by Niko Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu), Karakuchi comes from tightly rehearsed, live-in-the-studio takes. Kaleidobolt realise that greater sparsity can be a strength, and they’ve allowed their instruments extra space to breathe. It makes for their earthiest, purest and perhaps most authentic record to date. Karakuchi’s exuberant style emerges from the individual members’ contrasting listening habits. These span classic prog, Japanese city pop, noise rock, post-hardcore and historical podcasts. One record they can all agree is a masterpiece, the centre of the Venn diagram where all three members meet, is King Crimson’s Red. As for their new album’s title, that’s as suitable as the cover art. “Karakuchi” is the slogan of the Japanese beer brand Asahi Super Dry. Translated literally, this means “pungent to the mouth”. As drinkers of that product, Kaleidobolt acknowledge its parallels to their songs. “It’s very intense, right at the front, like at the first bite,” explains Menestrina. “And then it leaves your mouth feeling refreshed. The flavour doesn’t linger in your mouth, basically. It has a quick, hard finish. With a bit of a stretch, we thought that that could also be said of our music.” Karakuchi is Kaleidobolt at their hardest, fastest, tightest and super-driest. Pungent to the ears. -JR Moores, November 2025

KALEIDOBOLT’s fifth album is pungent to the ears – KARAKUCHI out in March Karakuchi is one record you can judge by its cover. The first time Kaleidobolt’s faces have adorned an LP, they have been fused into a torpedoing biomechanical vehicle. Echoing The Birthday Party’s Junkyard or Motörhead’s Orgasmatron (…on acid?!), the illustration epitomises perfectly Kaleidobolt’s agenda of “hyperkinetic rock”. Their feverish, psych-prog sound is full of motion. It jerks around at different speeds, threatening to spin out of control and crash into flames at any given moment. What’s more, it isn’t taken too seriously. This is heavy and intricate music, yes. But as bassist and co-singer Marco Menestrina puts it, the Kaleidobolt attitude is “an ugly smirk more than an angry face with a fist.” On their fifth album since forming in 2014, the Helsinki-based outfit lean into their strengths as a formidable power trio. With their previous two records, 2019’s Bitter and 2022’s This One Simple Trick, they had thrown everything at their disposal into the recording with no expense spared on overdubs, effects and kitchen sinks. Produced again by Niko Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu), Karakuchi comes from tightly rehearsed, live-in-the-studio takes. Kaleidobolt realise that greater sparsity can be a strength, and they’ve allowed their instruments extra space to breathe. It makes for their earthiest, purest and perhaps most authentic record to date. Karakuchi’s exuberant style emerges from the individual members’ contrasting listening habits. These span classic prog, Japanese city pop, noise rock, post-hardcore and historical podcasts. One record they can all agree is a masterpiece, the centre of the Venn diagram where all three members meet, is King Crimson’s Red. As for their new album’s title, that’s as suitable as the cover art. “Karakuchi” is the slogan of the Japanese beer brand Asahi Super Dry. Translated literally, this means “pungent to the mouth”. As drinkers of that product, Kaleidobolt acknowledge its parallels to their songs. “It’s very intense, right at the front, like at the first bite,” explains Menestrina. “And then it leaves your mouth feeling refreshed. The flavour doesn’t linger in your mouth, basically. It has a quick, hard finish. With a bit of a stretch, we thought that that could also be said of our music.” Karakuchi is Kaleidobolt at their hardest, fastest, tightest and super-driest. Pungent to the ears. -JR Moores, November 2025

2026 Repress


Another Thought was the first collection of Arthur Russell’s music to be released after his death in 1992. Released in 1993 on Point Music it marked the beginning of nearly 30 years of work to let the world hear the enormous archive of unreleased recordings Arthur left behind. Be With revisits this first compilation for a new gatefold double vinyl version and a triple-fold digipak CD reissue.

Both versions of Be With’s 2021 reissue of Another Thought have been mastered by Simon Francis and the vinyl cut by Pete Norman. The original artwork has been restored and tweaked at Be With HQ for the gatefold sleeve and the triple-fold digipak, with the essential help of Janette Beckman. Each version comes with an insert reproducing the liner notes and lyrics from the original CD release.

Together with Calling Out Of Context, Soul Jazz’s World of Arthur Russell, and much of the ongoing work of Audika, Another Thought is absolutely essential for even the most casual Arthur Russell collection. In fact we’d argue it’s essential for any fan of non-obvious pop music. This is the only place where you can hear some of Arthur’s most recognisable tunes and it’s an album that absolutely deserves to be kept in press.


We’ll assume that by now you’re all at least a little familiar with the story of Arthur Russell, the farm boy from Iowa who moved to 1970s New York. Arthur Russell the genuine musical genius who died just 40 years old, leaving behind a wealth of music that dwarfed the few 12"s and LPs that were released during his short life.

Although Arthur had been working on an album for Rough Trade during his last years, with the label no-longer operating it was Point Music (Philip Glass and Michael Riesman’s label set up together with Philips) who stepped in to help Arthur’s partner Tom Lee start working out exactly what Arthur had left behind.

Tom suggested that Arthur’s friend Mikel Rouse was the right person to make the first catalogue. Working in Tom and Arthur’s apartment he had only two weeks to go through what turned out to be around 800 tapes.

As Tom explained “at the end of each day he would generally wait for me to come home and I would, to the best of my knowledge, name and identify pieces in question from that day’s work. As he worked Mikel compiled about a dozen cassettes that he thought would present the most finished sounding songs for Don/Point to use. As Don listened he would then suggest and ask me and thus we collaborated on the choices.”

Don is Don Christensen, Another Thought’s producer. With a final selection of songs from recordings made between 1982 and 1990, including sessions with some of Arthur’s regular collaborators Peter Zummo, Steven Hall, Mustafa Ahmed, Elodie Lauten, Julius Eastman, Jennifer Warnes and Joyce Bowden, it was then Don’s job to turn these into a finished album.

Another Thought is a little different from the compilations of Arthur’s music that came out since. In our conversations with Steve Knutson (who founded Audika Records and who manages Arthur’s estate together with Tom), he explained that “more than any project released by Arthur during his lifetime or posthumously by Audika, ‘Another Thought’ is the most worked over. The material was significantly edited and rearranged from the original source tapes”.

If the aim was to release a comprehensive exploration of every facet of Arthur’s music, from the most avant-garde of his avant-garde compositions through to the most disco-not-disco of his disco-not-disco tunes then the project was a spectacular failure. But as a coherent album of non-obvious pop music Another Thought is wonderful.

Starting with the sparse voice-and-cello of the title track, A Little Lost adds some guitar along with the sneaking suspicion that we’re listening to something nowhere near as simple as it first sounds. By the time we get to This Is How We Walk On The Moon - it could be the moment you notice the congas, or the percussion that’s been building behind them, or maybe it’s that blast of trumpet and trombone - we realise we’ve gone from splashing around to being completely submerged in the musical world of Arthur Russell.

From here the album heads off on its journey around the sounds of the left-field contemporary classical music of the time, re-directed towards pop ears, with minor detours through the swirling woozy disco of the half-remembered night before on In The Light Of The Miracle and My Tiger, My Timing. Whether it’s just Arthur, his cello and some bleeps on Just A Blip, or whether he has some vocal help as he does on the bounding Keeping Up, this is difficult music made so, so easy. And through it all is Arthur’s voice and cello. Sometimes drowned in distortion and sometimes clear as a bell, but always there somewhere.

A Sudden Chill finally returns us to the calmer waters we started in and this last track closes the album with a melancholy that’s not surprising given how soon after Arthur’s death the album was put together.

Whilst Another Thought holds together with the consistency of a proper album, there’s still no getting away from the fact that this was put together from audio recorded in different ways, in different places, with different people at different times. Those with keen ears will hear traces of tape hiss, the occasional blown-out note and some digital fuzz, all fingerprints of those original recordings as well as of the 1990s digital equipment that was used to piece Another Thought together.

Add to this Arthur’s obvious pleasure in making music from the sort of sounds that can make microphones, speakers and ears uncomfortable, it’s no surprise that Another Thought isn’t glossy and pristine. Don Christensen’s productions have been careful to not scrub up those original recordings so much that they lose their original vibe, understandable given that Arthur wasn’t around as a guide. We’ve applied a similarly light touch with the mastering for these Be With versions, just working to make sure they sound like they should on both the vinyl and the CD.

Despite the Discogs rumours, Another Thought was never originally released as an LP. So when it came to the sleeve for this Be With vinyl version we took the original CD artwork as a starting point to come up with something that looks like it could have been in the record racks back in 1993.

We have to thank Janette Beckman for helping us reproduce her iconic photograph of Arthur in his newspaper boat hat. One of many photographs she took of Arthur, Janette shot this in her New York studio back in 1986 for a short article in the January ’87 issue of The Face Magazine. Those with eagle-eyes will notice we’ve used an ever-so-slightly different shot from the one that appeared in The Face and then again on the original cover of Another Thought. The original has long since been lost so we’ve worked with what is left in Janette’s archives. And we also have to thank Tom Lee for giving us permission to reproduce his liner notes from the original CD booklet, together with Arthur’s lyrics.

The new album by the collective that for
over 25 years has been among the most
representative names of the Italian dance
and electronic scene worldwide.
“BLOOOM”, this is the title of the new release,
will be available in all traditional stores and
on digital platforms starting January 16.
Set against the soundscapes that have become
the Planet Funk trademark, the lyrics by Dan
Black attempt to give voice to a fragile and
contradictory condition of our time: an
intensified sensitivity that, instead of
turning into openness and connection, often
becomes emotional overload. A generation
constantly overwhelmed by excessive stimuli,
relentless information, anxieties, and fears,
called upon to find its way in a world thaoffers neither pauses nor silence. In this paradox, sensitivity is no longer just a natural gift, but
a daily effort: staying open and receptive without being overwhelmed, trying to preserve a human and
vulnerable gaze in order, despite everything, to fully appreciate life and the present moment.
The single’s artwork—like that of the album—curated by Nationhood, visually conveys this tension: the
distant sirens of a city that amplifies feelings of disorientation and loneliness even when we are
surrounded by thousands of people.
“BLOOOM”, preceded by the single “FEEL EVERYTHING”, arrives at the end of an intense, creative year
full of music, which saw Alex Neri (DJ, keyboards, synthesizers), Marco Baroni (keyboards, piano,
programming), Dan Black (vocals and guitar), and Alex Uhlmann (vocals and guitar) engaged between
studio work, collaborations, and live performances in Italy and abroad. A journey that today
transforms into new energy, into an even more open vision oriented toward the future.
Exactly one year ago, PLANET FUNK released “Nights in White Satin”, a single that reached the top
positions of the radio charts and launched a season rich in concerts and DJ sets in Italy and around
the world. The subsequent “I Get a Rush”, the collaboration with Alfa and Manu Chao on the remix of
their hit “A me mi piace”, and the track “È Naturale” together with Francesca Michielin, confirmed
Planet Funk’s ability to renew themselves and engage with different musical worlds while always
remaining true to their own identity.
Throughout this journey, music has inevitably intertwined with life. The memory of Sergio Della Monica
and Domenico “Gigi” Canu, pillars and founding souls of the PLANET FUNK project, is a living part of
this new chapter. Their vision, creative spirit, and way of understanding music continue to be a
constant guide, a deep root from which new ideas and new directions can grow.
“BLOOOM” is also this: a personal and artistic blossoming that, starting from the legacy left by
Sergio and Gigi, transforms into a living process of growth, metamorphosis, and discovery. An album
that does not look back with nostalgia, but forward with awareness, momentum, and a desire for
renewal.
Founded in 1999, for over 25 years PLANET FUNK have represented one of the most important, solid, and
influential realities in the international electronic music scene. Born from the meeting of Souled
Out! (Domenico “GG” Canu and Sergio Della Monica) and Kamasutra (Marco Baroni and Alex Neri), and
following their debut with “Non Zero Sumness” in 2002 (a gold record and a turning point for the
band), PLANET FUNK have managed to reinvent themselves over time while maintaining a unique sonic
identity. This has led them to collaborate with internationally renowned artists, deliver iconic
performances around the world, create soundtracks and international advertising campaigns, and
continue to demonstrate constant creative vitality

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

Tragic Tiger's Sad Meltdown is Heavenly aka Tiger Hutchence-Geldof's debut album of sorts, cut from cassette tapes of rehearsals mixed with snippets of field recordings. Recorded with contributions from Nicholas Allbrook (Pond), Scarlett Stevens (San Cisco), India Rose & Jacob Diamond.

"I made this cassette in the living room of our house in Fremantle, a seaside town in Western Australia. I had always been shy to sing with others but moving across the world and my ex-boyfriend Nick had given me some bravery. Something about living closer to nature meant I felt creative and open hearted. It was as if the wide open landscape of Australia had finally given my heart enough space to open properly. The recordings are actually just recordings of our rehearsals, I never feel set in how song is meant to be so they usually just come out of me in the moment. My friends playing along with me are luckily all very empathic players and we found a way to play with one another without any structure or plan. It was really moving to create with so much freedom and understanding. Most of the songs are about my sister Peaches who I lost as a teenager so singing them aloud felt very potent but my band always made me feel held"

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

"I want nothing more than to be a loner," Emily Kempf sings early on Flower of Devotion, the new album by Chicago trio Dehd. It's a startling admission coming from a songwriter who, just a year ago on Dehd's critically acclaimed Water, wrote eloquently about the joys and pains _ more than anything, the necessity _ of love, compassion, and companionship. But then, "admission" isn't really the right word here, given the stridency of Kempf's tone. "Loner" is a declaration. The record ups the ante on Dehd's sound & filters in just enough polish to bring out the shining and melancholy undertones in Jason Balla and Emily Kempf's songwriting, even as it captures them at their most strident. Balla's guitar lines at times flirt with ticklish cosmic country, while at others they reflect the dark marble sounds of Broadcast. Kempf, meanwhile, establishes herself as a singer of incredible expressive range, pinching into a high lonesome wail, letting loose a chirping "ooh!," pushing her voice below its breaking point and letting it swing down there. When she and Balla bounce descending counter-melodies off one another over McGrady's one-two thumps, or skitter off over a programmed drum pad, they sound like The B-52s shaking off heartache. What makes Flower of Devotion so impressive is how its creation seems to have strengthened its creators, both as individuals and as a unit, even as they've stared down their own limitations. It's also striking just how much fun they seem to be having in the process. "It's okay to be lighthearted in the face of despair," Kempf says. It's a theme that runs through the album, from the opening back-and-forth build of "Desire" to the click-clacking chorus of "Haha," which finds them deflating their own history. Flower of Devotion was recorded in April and August of 2019 in Chicago. It will be released on Fire Talk Records on July 17th 2020.

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.

Sometimes artistic genius can be hiding in plain sight. Innovators and sonic pioneers that are stalwarts of the 140 dubstep scene can be taken for granted with just how damn good they are.

With DDD favourite Abstrakt Sonance’s second LP on the label ‘Nature of Things’, he is taking his organic fuelled, harmonically intuitive, bass driven madness to new heights.

With his signature blend of primitive percussion, scattered chops and savage sub frequencies - Abstrakt’s record is an 11 track tour-de-force of production mastery, impish tendency and true artistic expression.

To single out particular tunes on the album seems a fallacious exercise, given the strength in-depth of the sequence of work - with guest appearances scattered in from producers Wraz., Coltcuts and Outsider, alongside the stunning vocals of Sahala and bars from the godson of grime, Saskilla.

Let us just tell you that each one will have you flying through the jungle like tarzan on speed, with enough adrenaline to fend off any silverback gorilla and emotional guile to lead a troop of chimpanzees.

Existential musings over the Nature of Things can be confusing at best - but with Abstrakt Sonance it equates to sonic and visual clarity.

Careful though, he could still pop you with the Snipa.

Manteca’s 2014 album, first time on vinyl. Manteca, the London Latin jazz/salsa funk combo, are back with a first-time vinyl release of their brilliant digital album “Oye” from 2014. “Oye” is a collection of heavy-duty Latin music that reaches well beyond the standard salsa or Cuban dance-band style, appealing to anyone and everyone, from mambo dancers to B-boys, jazz brothers to soul sisters! Led by Colombian singer Martha Acosta and bassist Javier Fioramonti, who have played with everyone from Roberto Pla and Candela, to Alex Wilson’s groups and Salsa Celtica, as well as backing Latin legends such as Joe Bataan, Jack Costanzo, Henry Fiol and Azuquita, this band really cooks! “Que Pasa” is smoking Latin funk, this will get your head nodding and foot tapping for sure.“Oye”, a lovely mid-tempo Afrobeat/Latin jazz fusion number with punching brass and super-funky kit playing. There are three cover versions on the album: Horace Silver’s “The Jody Grind”, a 1960s Blue Note Records soul jazz classic. Manteca does it justice, taking the original and turning it into a heavy Mongo Santamaria style funky Latin soul belter. Sergio Mendes’s “Groovy Samba” is also given the 1960s Mongo “Watermelon Man” style Latin soul jazz treatment. Very hip arrangement, and some fantastic brass soloing in there too. The last one is a brave choice. It’s the timeless bolero standard “Como Fue”, which the band plays beautifully. “Para Pello” (“For Pello”), a conga-style big percussive beat that evolved from Afro-Cuban street carnivals. Secondly, “Bomba Chevere”, a blend of Puerto Rican bomba and Colombian cumbia. The big Afro-Cuban track of the album is “Descarga China”, which has two different mixes. One is a descarga funk mix with some heavyweight kit playing and smoking trumpet soloing, while the other is a more straight-ahead Latin jam with Javier’s upright bass playing underpinning the whole number in a very Cachao way. Big shouts to the whole band, which features some of the best musicians from the London Latin music scene of the last three decades. These cats are as good as you’ll get in Latin music from anywhere across the world.This London Latin music gem has been crying out for a vinyl release for over a decade. At last, it's here. Slap it on the turntable, drop the needle on track one, turn the volume up, press play and be ready to dance. Standing still is NOT an option! DJ Lubi (One Jazz / Totally Wired Radio)

Percussive P (who has previously released on the label with FR037 & our remix on THCFR001) is a top quality producer who I wish had more music/releases out there. I used to play a tune of his called "Gunsmith" a lot in sets, as well as a lot of his collabs with Kid Lib which I was a big fan of. I'd previously collaborated with him on a tune for Dublinquents a few years ago and I was quite keen on doing a new collaboration with him for Meeting Of The Minds, so he sent me some tracks he had started, I picked my favourite to work on and that led to "Impatience".

Fluid Haunts is a solid producer who I was familiar with, but it wasn't until his music was drilled into my head by Dwarde who was playing a few select tunes from him in every single b2b set we had together, that I started to really appreciate his skills. Dwarde would play "Not Your Ordinary Love Song" without fail, in any given moment and time, and it would always get a great reaction from the crowd, so I had to get in touch to see if he'd be up for working with me & thankfully he was! We ended up making "Pineapple Soup" together & I can't remember why it's called that, I think he named the tune ????

Hobzee is one half of Silent Dust (him & Zyon Base) & I used to chat regularly with him and trade music with him on AOL Instant Messenger (showing my age here!) a long while back. He got back in touch with me about wanting to work on music together and he had an early version of "Sunspots" done. It was very promising sounding so I was quite keen to get involved with him on it and I'm grateful that I was able to get him on Future Retro London after many many years of IM chats!

Usually, I limit my collaborations on Meeting Of The Minds to producers that are fairly established and already somewhat known to other people, but for those who don't know who Eff is, she is a potentially familiar face to anyone who has attended a Future Retro London event, as she has been on the door for every single one. One day after a Distant Planet event in Bristol, she mentioned to me that she had an idea for a track inspired by a PFM tune and she already had the title in mind for it, which is "Wavebreak". I was curious about how this would sound in reality, so we met up to work on the tune & she said it was pretty much like how she had envisioned it & I liked how it sounded, so I thought it would be worth putting out on a future Meeting Of The Minds release, which ended up being this one.

Big up to all the artists involved on this edition of Meeting Of The Minds, it's quite a long and arduous task putting together each one, which is why there was such a gap between Vol. 9 & 10 and Vol. 11 & 12. I plan on getting the series back into something more regularly occurring, so hopefully I can actually stick to that plan!

When NYC-based experimental dance punks Guerilla Toss, active since 2011, were in Vermont recording their new full-length album You're Weird Now, frontwoman Kassie Carlson would prepare what she called 'punk lunch': a communal meal made by raiding the studio fridge for whatever was left and assembling a sandwich from the most random ingredients imaginable. Regularly joining punk lunch were two legends from their own corners of the weird music world: Stephen Malkmus (Pavement, The Jicks) and Trey Anastasio, Phish guitarist and owner of The Barn; the recording studio where Guerilla Toss were making You're Weird Now, with Malkmus in the producer's seat. Engineer Bryce Goggin, who has worked with Malkmus since Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, and Ben Collette, Phish's longtime engineer at The Barn, were also part of the crew. While the idea of the guy from Phish and the guy from Pavement sitting around with Guerilla Toss, congenially assembling sandwiches from random foodstuffs dug up from the depths of a studio fridge, might seem absurd, it also makes total sense. Because really, if there's any band that serves as the natural bridge between slacker punks who saw Pavement way before you did, wild-eyed wooks who've seen Phish more times than you ever will, and even the eccentrics in '90s drip following former GT tourmates Primus-it's Guerilla Toss. A band so imaginative and unapologetically themselves, they're basically the real-life manifestation of a utopian, post-snob world where all musical ideas are worthy of expression and everyone is welcome. You're Weird Now powers this message. Guerilla Toss' fifth album and second for Sub Pop is a hugely creative and joyful statement about the joy of creativity. With You're Weird Now Guerilla Toss reclaim the word "weird" for everyone brave enough to let their freak flag fly and stay true to their artistic vision no matter what-a way riskier act than it's ever given credit for, and one that requires a certain amount of serene self-confidence that it takes time and effort to cultivate and sustain. And they do so with the enthusiastic support of their musical predecessors: a standout moment arrives with "Red Flag to Angry Bull," which builds to a campfire sing-along-worthy outro featuring Malkmus and Carlson duetting over a chatty, classically Phish-y (there's really no better word for it) solo from Anastasio. The band hopes the message of You're Weird Now will resonate not only with music heads but anyone who struggles with feeling weird in a world where it will always be hard to be different. At the end of the day, it's all about the spirit of punk lunch: there's room for everyone because music is for everyone. "Everyone loves and appreciates music," says Carlson. "If you don't like music, you're kind of an asshole." That's not weird-that's just true.

In Guadeloupe, many people think that jazz and ka music are like a ring and a finger. To some extent, the same could be said about so called Latin music and the music played in the French West Indies.

Both aesthetics were born in the Caribbean and bear so many connections that they can easily be considered cousins. In constant dialogue, there are lots of examples of their fruitful alliance and have been for a while. The English country dance that used to be practiced in European lounges came to be called kadrille in Martinique and contradanza in Cuba. They both featured additional percussion instruments inherited from the transatlantic deportation. Drawing from shared feelings about the same traumatized identity – later to be creolized – it would be hard not to assume that they were meant to inspire each other. The golden age of the orchestras that graced the Pigalle nights during the interwar period further proves the point. As soon as the 1930s, Havana-born Don Barreto naturally mixed danzón and biguine music in a combo based at Melody's Bar. In the following decade, Félix Valvert, a conductor who was born and raised in Basse-Terre in Guadelupe, also worked wonders in Montparnasse with La Coupole, which was an orchestra made up of eclectic musicians. Afro- Caribbean performers of various origins were often hired on rhythm and brass sections in jazz bands, which used to enliven the typical French balls of the capital. In the 1930s and onwards, Rico’s Creole Band was one of them.



Martinican violinist-clarinettist Ernest Léardée, who would become the king of biguine music as well as the main figure of French Uncle Ben's TV commercials (a dark stigma of post-colonial stereotypes), had musicians from the whole Caribbean sphere play at his Bal Blomet – and they all enchanted "ces Zazous-là" (according the words of Léardée's biguine-calypso piece). In les Antilles (French for French West Indies), music history started to speed up in the 1950s, when trade expanded and radio stations grew bigger. The Guadelupean and Martiniquais youth tuned in their old galena radio sets to South American and Caribbean music. As for the women traders, les pacotilleuses, they bought and sold goods across different islands (the "passing of items through various hands" was thought to be most pleasurable) and brought back countless sounds in their luggage. Such was the case of Madame Balthazar, who once returned from Puerto Rico with the first 45rpm and 33rpm to ever enter Martinique.

Out of this adventure was created the famous Martinican label La Maison des Merengues, a music business she opened and undertook with her husband and which proved to be a major landmark. At the end of the 1950s, in Puerto Rico, Marius Cultier competed in the Piano International Contest playing a version of Monk's Round 'Midnight. He won the first prize and this distinction foreshadowed everything that was to come. Cultier, the heretic Monk of jazz, was quickly praised for writing superb melodies, always tinged with a twist that conferred a unique sound to his music. It didn't take long for the gifted self-taught musician to get to play with Los Cubanos, making a name for himself thanks to his impressive maestria on merengues.

The rest is history. Besides, in the late 1950s, Frantz Charles-Denis, born into the upper middle class in Saint-Pierre and better known by his first name Francisco, went back home after working at La Cabane Cubaine – a club located rue Fontaine where he had caught the Latin fever. Francisco's music was therefore heavily marked by his Cuban cousins' influence, which gave the combos he led a specific style and also led to renewal. Things were swinging hard in La Savane, located in the main square in Fort-de-France. He set up the Shango club close by and tested out the biguine lélé there, a new music formula spiced up with Latin rhythms. Soon afterwards, fate had him fly to Puerto Rico and Venezuela.

As for percussionist Henri Guédon (percussions were only a part of his many talents), he was born in Fort-de-France in May 22nd 1944, the day marking the celebration of the abolition of slavery. As an old man, he could remember that in " his father's Teppaz, a lot of hectic 6/8 music was constantly playing...". In the opening lines of his Lettre à Dizzy, a small illustrated collection of writings published by Del Arco, he highlighted the huge impact that cubop had on him as a teenage boy, around 1960. He eventually turned out to be the lider maximo in La Contesta, a big band steeped in Latin jazz. He was also the one who originated the word zouk to describe music which brought the sound of the New York barrio to Paris. It was the culmination of a journey that started in Sainte-Marie: "a mythical place for bélé, the equivalent of Cuban guaguancó". In the early 1960s, the tertiary economy developed to the detriment of agriculture. Yet rural life was where roots music emerged in Martinique and in Guadeloupe.

Record companies played a major part in the process of Latin versions sweeping across the islands – before reaching everywhere else. Producer Célini, boss of the great Aux Ondes label, and Marcel Mavounzy, both the head of Émeraude records - a firm which was founded in 1953 - as well as the brother of famous saxophonist Robert Mavounzy, were big names to bear in mind. Although there were many of them - all of whom are featured on this record - Henri Debs was definitely the major figure in the recording adventure. He proved to be so influential that he even got compared to Berry Gordy. In the mid 1950s, when he acquired his first Teppaz, he worked on his first compositions: a bolero and a chachacha. Then, he became the one man who made people discover Caribbean music, from calypso to merengue. He was among the first ones to rush out to San Juan, Puerto Rico, to buy records and distribute them through a store run by one of his brothers in Fort-de-France. He had members of the Fania All Star come and perform there, which he was madly proud about. He was also the first one to pay attention to Haitian music, such as compas direct and various other rhythms which would soon flood the market. As a result, many of the combos hitting his legendary studio would end up boosted by widespread "Afro-Latin" rhythms. However, he never denied his identity: gwo ka drums were given a major role, although they were instruments which had long been banned from the "official" music spheres. The present selection bears witness to such a creative swarming. Here are fourteen tracks of untimely yet unprecedented cross-fertilization: all types of music rooted in the Creole archipelago have found their way, whatsoever, to the tracklisting. Whether originating from the city or being more rural, they all go back to what Edouard Glissant, in an interview about the place of West Indian music in the Afro-American scope, called "the trace of singing, the one which got erased by slavery." "It is so in jazz, but also in reggae, calypso, biguine, salsa... This trace also manifests through the drums, whether Guadelupean, Dominican, Jamaican or Cuban... None of them being quite the same. They all point to the idea of a trace, seeking it out and connecting to each other through it. This is the hallmark of the African diaspora: its ability to create something new, in relation to itself, out of a trace. It may be the memory of a rhythm, the crafting of a drum, a means of expression which doesn't resort to an old language but to the modalities of it." The opening track features one of the emblematic orchestras of this aesthetic identity, criscrossing many music types from the archipelago. The 1974 Ray Barretto guajira – Ray Barretto was a major New York drummer influenced by Charlie Parker and Chano Pozzo – is magnificently performed by Malavoi, a legendary Fayolais group (i.e from Fort-de-France). Additionally, the compilation ends on a piece by Los Martiniqueños de Francisco. It symbolically closes the circle as it is a genuine potomitan of Martinique culture which also functions as a tireless campaigner for Afro-Caribbean music. Practicing the danmyé rounds (a kind of capoeiria) to the rhythm of the bèlè drum, it delivers a terrific Caterete, a kind of champeta of Afro- Colombian obedience which was originally composed by Colombian Fabián Ramón Veloz Fernández for the group Wgenda Kenya. The icing on the cake is Brazilian Marku Ribas, who found refuge in Martinique in the early 1970s, bringing his singing to the last trance-inducing track. These two "versions" convey the whole tone of a selection composed of rarities and classics of the tropicalized genre, swarming with tonic accents and convoluted rhythms. It is the sort of cocktail that the West Indians never failed to spice up with their own ingredients. For instance, the Los Caraïbes cover of Dónde, a famous Cuban theme composed by producer Ernesto Duarte Brito, has a typical violin and features renowned Martinique singer Joby Valente and his piquant voice.



The track used to be – or so we think – their only existing 45rpm. The meaningful Amor en chachachá by L'Ensemble Tropicana, a band which included Haitian musicians among whom was composer and leader Michel Desgrotte, also recalls how Latin music was pervasive in the tropics in the mid-1960s. They were the ones keeping people dancing at Le Cocoteraie in Guadelupe and La Bananeraie in Martinique. Around the same time, another "foreign" band, Congolese Freddy Mars N'Kounkou's Ryco Jazz, achieved some success on both islands by covering Latin jazz classics – such as their adaptation of Wachi Wara, a "soul sauce" by Dizzy Gillespie and Chano Pozo whose interweaving of strings and percussions can have anyone hit the dancefloor. How can you resist Dap Pinian indeed, a powerful guaguancó by Eugene Balthazar, performed by the Tropicana Orchestra and published by the Martinique-founded La Maison des Merengues? It also acts as a symbol of the maelstrom at work. Going by the name Paco et L'orchestre Cachunga, Roger Jaffory used to play guaguancó too: his Fania-inspired Oye mi consejo is one example of his style. Baila!!!!! Dancing was also one of the Kings' focus points. Oriza is a Puerto Rican bomba and a "classic" originally composed by Nuevayorquino trumpeter Ernie Agosto, which reserves major space for brasses, giving it a special sheen.

Emerging from the New York barrios crucible was also La Perfecta, a Martinique group originating from Trinidad, whose name directly references the totemic Eddie Palmieri figure as well as his own band, also called La Perfecta. Here they borrow Toumbadora from Colombian producer and composer Efraín Lancheros and interpret it by emphasizing percussions, which set fire to the track even more than the wind instruments. The same goes for Martinique's Super Jaguars, who use Tatalibaba – a composition by Cuban guitarist Florencio "Picolo" Santana which was made famous by Celia Cruz & La Sonora Matencera – as a pretext for sending their cadences into a frenzy. In a more typically salsa vein, the Super Combo, a famous Guadelupean orchestra from Pointe-Noire that was formed around the Desplan family and had Roger Plonquitte and Elie Bianay on board, adapt Serana, a theme by Roberto Angleró Pepín, a Puerto Rican composer, singer and musician also known for his song Soy Boricua. Here again, their vision comes close to surpassing the original. In the 1970s, L'Ensemble Abricot provided a handful of tracks of different syles, hence reaching the pinnacle of the art of achieving variety and giving pleasure. They played boleros, biguines, compas direct, guaguancó and even a good old boogaloo - the type they wanted to keep close to their hearts for ever, "pour toujours", as they sang along together in one of their songs. Léon Bertide's Martinican ensemble excelled at the boogaloo which had been composed by Puerto Rican saxophonist Hector Santos for the legendary El Gran Combo.



Three years later, in 1972, Henri Guédon, with the help of Paul Rosine on the vibraphone, tackled the Bilongo made famous by Eddie Palmieri. Such a classic!!!!! And so were the Aiglons, the band from Guadelupe: choosing to execute Pensando en tí, a composition by Dominican Aniceto Batista, on a cooler tempo than the original, they noticeably used a wonderfully (un)tuned keyboard in place of the accordion. On the high-value collectible single – the first one released by Les Aiglons under the Duli Disc label – there is a sticker classifying the track under the generic name "Afro". Now that is what we call a symbol. Jacques Denis

Debuts come and go. Some serve as juvenilia. Others showcase lost promise. Rarely are they cultural touchpoints. Enter This Better be Something Great by Westside Cowboy, an EP rammed with nu-generational indie. It’s been a while since something so era-defining dropped but you get the impression that Westside Cowboy are about to become a reference point. Shorthand for a new movement in guitar music. And when the dust settles, held in similar acclaim reserved for only the most influential of indie bands. With a sound raw as a carpet burn, they ride a thrilling lo-fi boxcar tuned to the melodic precision of Teenage Fanclub and held together with the slacker cool of Pavement. Authentic, fidgety and immediate, the guitars on this record crackle like a twinkling bed of kindling primed to ignite at any given moment and when they do it’s a barn dance of headrush overdrive & blitzkrieg drums leaving listeners raw and fully exposed to each bristling, crackle of magic coming their way. File under: modern classic.

Alanis Morissette Delivers the Equivalent of a Spiritual Awakening on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie:
Introspective Themes and Compassionate Emotions on Eastern-Tinged Album Have Grown More Relevant
1998 Smash Plays with Enhanced Detail, Rich Textures, and Sharp Focus on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set:
First-Ever Audiophile Edition Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies
1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Alanis Morissette refuses to adhere to convention on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. While most artists follow-up their breakthrough with an album that closely parallels the approaches that helped make them famous, the maverick singer-songwriter stayed true to herself and drew inspiration from travel to India before she began the recording sessions. As much as the preceding Jagged Little Pill put her on the global radar, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie confirmed her role as a vital generational voice — and proved her blockbuster success was no fluke. Having set a mark for most sales of an LP in its debut week by a female artist, the 1998 smash remains a pop-rock staple.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie presents the triple-platinum LP in audiophile sound for the first time. Benefitting from defined grooves that befit the album’s nearly 72-minute length, this pressing plays with enhanced detail, refined clarity, sharper focus, and broader dynamics than prior versions.

Those traits are key given Morissette’s use of more textured and atmospheric soundscapes, not to mention her evolution into a more nuanced and controlled singer. Similarly, the scale and reach of David Campbell’s string arrangements come across as orchestrations should. Ditto the synth-based architecture shaped by producer and principal Morissette collaborator Glen Ballard. All in all, Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition simply delivers more information via transparent means.

Notable for its balance, sophistication, and richness, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie at heart finds Morissette pausing, taking a breath, and learning how to navigate life in a healthy manner after enduring one of the most exhausting and rocket-to-fame stretches any musician ever experienced. It’s the sonic equivalent of a spiritual awakening, a call to betterment, a brave assessment of the self and humanity as a whole. As such, the tunes on her second international (and fourth Canadian) release teem with gratitude, compassion, love, empathy — emotions that lend themselves to the largely mellow, contoured scope and Eastern-tinged melodies of the songs themselves.

“How ‘bout how good it feels to finally forgive you,” Morissette sings on the lead single “Thank U.” “How ‘bout grieving it all one at a time.” Those sentiments, and the vocalist’s embrace of concepts such as divinity and acceptance, not only provide a foundation on which Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie rests. They also reflect the personal maturation she gained from her embrace of Buddhist culture in India and a mindset bent toward notions of reconciliation, peace, and sensuality that were nearly absent in popular music in the late ‘90s.

Those themes continue on “That I Would Be Good,” a confident reflection that takes stock of one’s mental, physical, and emotional state in the face of both changing and unpleasant circumstances — and concludes with Morissette performing a flute solo, further exposing the raw intimacy of the introspective tune. She channels relatable simplicity and joy on “So Pure,” with her invocations of “dance” and “freestyle” speaking to the freedom of expression that courses throughout Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. And perhaps no song finds Morissette showcasing her refreshed attitude toward life and opening up more than the relationship-themed “Unsent,” whose unconventional structures and lack of a chorus only add to its directness.

Akin to many albums that were ahead of their time, and despite the critical and commercial accolades afforded it upon release, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie attracted new appreciation and perspective as it got older. Issued during an era where its ideas of serenity, absolution, tranquility, and contentment seemed largely alien, the record — akin to the ways its predecessor foreshadowed a movement — now functions as a visionary beacon that foretells of way to maintain sanity, dignity, and goodness amid a contemporary landscape filled with constant distractions, polarizing views, and incessant calls to purchase, promote, and produce without questioning the what-for purpose.

Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie dares to ask the questions and, at its best, supplies meaningful answers and alternatives that lead to longed-for enlightenment, healing, and laughter. For these reasons alone, it’s a record that never goes out of style.