Search:archae

Dream Violence, Michael Beach’s fourth full-length, is an epic album that explores the duality of the human condition. Or, as Beach himself puts it, the album is about “human futility, passion, desire, anger, frustration, and the struggle to maintain hope in a somewhat hopeless time.” Dream Violence, then, addresses the existential crisis of being an artist in 2020.

Known for his work touring with the Australian guitar pop band Thigh Master and the late, brilliantly eccentric Israeli guitarist Charlie Megira, currently the focus of a number of reissues by the Numero Group, Beach is the architect of a sound that is both well-built and ramshackle, straightforward and indeterminably complex, out of the norm yet familiar in all the best ways.

Dream Violence unfolds like a revelation, filled with sonic tumbleweeds that reference Neil Young’s On the Beach, Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska, the Velvet Underground’s Loaded, and the Go Betweens’ Before Hollywood. Influences ranging from the enigmatic outlier Megira to Glenn Branca to the Oblivians are combined to create a new, exhilarating sound, part of the path that Beach has been on since 2008’s Blood Courses. A veteran of year-end indie rock round ups beginning with Golden Theft in 2013 and continuing with Gravity/Repulsion, released in 2017, Beach distills the best of those early albums and adds sharpened intent.

Dream Violence works beautifully as a start-to-finish album. There are magnificent stand-alone moments: “Spring,” a raggedly building ballad that perfectly captures the ennui attached to new beginnings; “De Facto Blues,” a born-to-lose anthem that, says Beach, “is the sound of people totally at their wits end;” “Curtain of Night,” a simultaneously derelict and bright tribute to the late Megira, which sounds like it could’ve been cut at Muscle Shoals Sound Studio after the Rolling Stones wrapped up sessions for Sticky Fingers; and the delicately vulnerable “You Found Me Out,” which evokes equal parts Lou Reed and Joni Mitchell. On the latter, the lyrics “You found me out, on a ship at sea, you pulled me in, made a wreck of me,” encapsulate “the aimless of a modern world view in a future without hope and the draw/dependence of love in those times,” Beach explains.

Through music, Beach strives to convey both passion and compassion, energy and action. “My hope is that something gets communicated that makes people think outside of themselves or their surroundings,” he says. “To ask questions, and consider the effects of their decisions. To communicate some essential part of the human spirit that understands intuitively how to feel connected to each other rather than divide, exploit, separate, ignore, and all the other heinous shit we have the ability to do with each other.”

Recorded on two continents, Dream Violence documents Beach’s move from Oakland, California to Melbourne, Australia as he navigated a new music scene, plenty of bureaucratic red tape, and, ultimately, citizenship. Parts of the album were recorded and mixed at Tiny Telephone Recording in Oakland, at the end of a 2019 tour with Kelley Stoltz producing. Other tracks were recorded at Beach’s new home in Melbourne, where he could be “relaxed and sloppy in all the right ways,” and partially remixed at Phaedra Studios.

At the Memphis-based Goner label, Beach joins an increasingly unique roster of international musicians that reaches far beyond garage or indie rock to encompass artists like gospel singer Rev. John Wilkins, Kentucky rockers Archaeas, New Orleans iconoclasts Quintron and Miss Pussycat, and no-wavers Optic Sink.

Los Saicos created a raw, wild and visceral sound, the Southern Hemisphere equivalent of the garage rock that was coming out of the US and their anthem 'Demolición' is one of the most insane '60s punk songs of all time. Unavailable on a 45 for over a decade, here it is again! The archaeology of rock'n'roll is much like any other form of digging. Significant finds demand the re-addressing of previously considered certainty. You can hear direct links to both The Stooges and The Cramps here and several more equally enthralling combos. The latter spawned several generations of individuals who would dig deep to previously (mostly) unheard seams of music and other forms of culture that have since become part of the mainstream fabric. When Los Saicos' front man Erwin Flores was asked how aware he and his friends were of what was happening in Britain and the US at the time, here's what he had to say: "We knew the Beatles, they were our idols. We heard the Rolling Stones after recording 'Demolición' and also Bob Dylan and others. The primitive nature of our songs is something that came spontaneously out of my head. The band had no problem with assimilating and arranging it. We thought of ourselves as bad boys and that must have been a driving force." "Primitive to the point of primordial, Los Saicos are an important benchmark. Not were. Who ever thought there could be a combo out there in Peru that would make The Sonics sound like Simon and bloody Garfunkel? There is quite possibly some other music out there, someplace, that could well make us re-address this consideration, but until then, cherish this short course of Saicotherapy."

LTD. LOSER EDITION

Kiwi Jr. is a phenomenal "rock" and/or "punk" and/or "indie-rock" (whichever you like more) band from Canada, made up of Jeremy Gaudet (mic, guitar), Brohan Moore (drums), Mike Walker (bass), and Brian Murphy (guitar). Cooler Returns is their second album, and their first for Sub Pop. Despite being a snapshot of the pandemic-infused beginnings of this decade, Cooler Returns is truly a whole lot of fun. RIYL indie-pop from down under, things that are smart/exuberant/catchy all at once. Buildings burning in every direction; macabre unknowns in your friendly neighbor's basement; undecided voters sharpening their pencils: under pressure we could call Kiwi Jr.'s Cooler Returns "timely." But what year is it, again? On Cooler Returns, Kiwi Jr. cycle through the recent zigs & looming zags of the new decade, squinting anew at New Year's parties forgotten and under-investigated small town diner fires, piecing together low-stakes conspiracy theories on what's coming down the pike in 2021. Put together like a thousand-piece puzzle, assembled in flow state through the first dull stretch of quarantine, sanitized singer shuffling to sanitized studio by streetcar, masked like it's the kind of work where getting recognized means getting killed, Cooler Returns materializes as a sprawling survey from the first few bites of the terrible twenties, an investigative exposé of recent history buried under the headlines & ancient kings buried under parking lots. Not so long since their debut Football Money in archaeological time, unending gray eons later in the dog years of quaran-time, spiritually antipodean Canadians Kiwi Jr return to disseminate this year's annual report to the shareholders, burying the incriminating numbers in the endless appendices of a longform narrative record, a 3,000 word tract for stakeholders to pore over. These stories - memories of Augusts past, unrepressed & transcribed fast - go down easier thanks to meaningful changes enacted in 2019's KiwiCares Pledge: delivering on a promise to transition from Crunchy to Smooth by 2021, the caveman chug of Football Money has been steamed & pressed with the purifying air of a saloon piano - operated with bow-tie untied - and a spring green side-salad of tentatively up-tempo organ taps & freshly fluted harmonica. A chronically detuned spin of the dial through swivel-chair distractions & WFH daydreams, an immersive ctrl-tab deluge cycling through popular listicle distractions like the unentombing of Richard III, or the deja vu destruction of the Glasgow School of Art, Kiwi Jr. sing this song to an indoor audience, crisscrossing canceled, every other prestige distraction source wrung dry, only songwriting remaining to deliver engrossing tales to the populace, just how I imagine it worked in the old days. Fixing loose ingredients into a sturdy whip, Kiwi Jr. beam in live from the 9-5, striding into 2021 with a mastered brainwave that comes equally from the back room of the record store as the penalty box. And how do we, left holding this box of deliberate entanglements, sign off to those as yet uninitiated, undecided, uncertain, unseen, absent return coordinates - Best Wishes, Warm Regards, Good Luck? Cooler Returns, Cooler Returns, C o o l e r R e t u r n s ! Cooler Returns was produced by Kiwi Jr., mixed and engineered by Graham Walsh (METZ, Bully) in Toronto, and mastered by Phillip Shaw Bova at Bova Labs in Ottawa, Ontario.

Kiwi Jr. is a phenomenal "rock" and/or "punk" and/or "indie-rock" (whichever you like more) band from Canada, made up of Jeremy Gaudet (mic, guitar), Brohan Moore (drums), Mike Walker (bass), and Brian Murphy (guitar). Cooler Returns is their second album, and their first for Sub Pop. Despite being a snapshot of the pandemic-infused beginnings of this decade, Cooler Returns is truly a whole lot of fun. RIYL indie-pop from down under, things that are smart/exuberant/catchy all at once. Buildings burning in every direction; macabre unknowns in your friendly neighbor's basement; undecided voters sharpening their pencils: under pressure we could call Kiwi Jr.'s Cooler Returns "timely." But what year is it, again? On Cooler Returns, Kiwi Jr. cycle through the recent zigs & looming zags of the new decade, squinting anew at New Year's parties forgotten and under-investigated small town diner fires, piecing together low-stakes conspiracy theories on what's coming down the pike in 2021. Put together like a thousand-piece puzzle, assembled in flow state through the first dull stretch of quarantine, sanitized singer shuffling to sanitized studio by streetcar, masked like it's the kind of work where getting recognized means getting killed, Cooler Returns materializes as a sprawling survey from the first few bites of the terrible twenties, an investigative exposé of recent history buried under the headlines & ancient kings buried under parking lots. Not so long since their debut Football Money in archaeological time, unending gray eons later in the dog years of quaran-time, spiritually antipodean Canadians Kiwi Jr return to disseminate this year's annual report to the shareholders, burying the incriminating numbers in the endless appendices of a longform narrative record, a 3,000 word tract for stakeholders to pore over. These stories - memories of Augusts past, unrepressed & transcribed fast - go down easier thanks to meaningful changes enacted in 2019's KiwiCares Pledge: delivering on a promise to transition from Crunchy to Smooth by 2021, the caveman chug of Football Money has been steamed & pressed with the purifying air of a saloon piano - operated with bow-tie untied - and a spring green side-salad of tentatively up-tempo organ taps & freshly fluted harmonica. A chronically detuned spin of the dial through swivel-chair distractions & WFH daydreams, an immersive ctrl-tab deluge cycling through popular listicle distractions like the unentombing of Richard III, or the deja vu destruction of the Glasgow School of Art, Kiwi Jr. sing this song to an indoor audience, crisscrossing canceled, every other prestige distraction source wrung dry, only songwriting remaining to deliver engrossing tales to the populace, just how I imagine it worked in the old days. Fixing loose ingredients into a sturdy whip, Kiwi Jr. beam in live from the 9-5, striding into 2021 with a mastered brainwave that comes equally from the back room of the record store as the penalty box. And how do we, left holding this box of deliberate entanglements, sign off to those as yet uninitiated, undecided, uncertain, unseen, absent return coordinates - Best Wishes, Warm Regards, Good Luck? Cooler Returns, Cooler Returns, C o o l e r R e t u r n s ! Cooler Returns was produced by Kiwi Jr., mixed and engineered by Graham Walsh (METZ, Bully) in Toronto, and mastered by Phillip Shaw Bova at Bova Labs in Ottawa, Ontario.

Videosphere, the debut album by Kompakt’s latest signing, the London-based artist Lake Turner (aka Andrew Halford), swoons into focus with “The Sunbird”, a teasing drift of lilting, ambient tones, riding out a submerged piston-pulse rhythm. Across its brief 109 seconds, it manages to traverse evocative terrain – something mythopoetic, something both humble and grandiose, a glimpse of the other behind the sky’s curtain. “I wanted to conjure up something resembling an ancient ceremony or death procession,” Turner nods. “Like a hymn to the surroundings of a faraway hill.” It’s both sky-bound and earthen, a ritual incantation to call in the music of the spheres.

Turner was introduced to the Kompakt family by his sometime collaborator Yannis Philippakis of Foals. He’d previously made music in post-punk and indie groups Great Eskimo Hoax and Trophy Wife, but Videosphere is the first time he’s fully articulated his own vision of electronic music, aside from one limited lathe-cut 12”, 2018’s Prime Mover EP, on Algebra. The lush ambient-disco-techno dreams of Videosphere were constructed and completed in his London studio and at his parents’ arable and sheep farm in Worcestershire, which might help explain the hazy, unhurried pastoralism of the album.

“There was a slight bittersweetness in finishing the record (in Worcestershire) as my parents were in the middle of selling my childhood home,” he sighs, before quipping, “on the plus, I ended up shearing a lot of sheep over the summer.” A student of archaeology and ancient history, Turner is no doubt carefully attuned to the twisting cogs of history and memory, and it’s no surprise that Videosphere has a nostalgic, melancholic cast; much of its beauty rests in the way it tugs, gently, at the heart strings – see the tear-stained cheeks of the lush, dappled “Honeycomb”, or the sweetly sad electro-roundelay of “No Way Back Forever.”

It’s not all drift-dream hypnosis, though – Videosphere is very much grounded in the now. ““No Way Back Forever” is a nod to the linear nature of time,” Turner explains by way of example, “and the tipping point of the world climate crisis that scientists have now declared.” Jayne Powell’s vocals are sent spinning through the song, wound like candyfloss; she takes centre stage on the techno hymnal title track, too. Throughout, there’s a sense of forward movement, despite the life stasis we find ourselves collectively bound by in mid-2020; there’s also a yearning for the communal, for community, that’s captured in the album title, a nod to an object Turner encountered at London’s Geoffrey Museum, “a television set in the shape of a spaceman’s helmet from the 1970s.”

“The vision I loosely had was to make an electronic record that had a communal warmth and almost ceremonial or ritual feel. I wanted to examine the relationship of our archaic minds in the trappings of the modern world,” Turner concludes. “What the Videosphere also symbolizes for me is the oneness of humanity and community, prevailing.”
Eröffnet wird "Videosphere", das Debütalbum von Kompakts jüngstem Signing, dem in London ansässigen Künstler Lake Turner (alias Andrew Halford), mit "The Sunbird" - einem herausfordernden Strom aus Ambient Sounds, die zu schweben scheinen, um sich dann in einen subtilen, maschinellen Rhythmus zu verwandeln. In gerade mal 109 Sekunden gelingt es dem Stück, ein gewaltiges Terrain abzuschreiten - etwas Mythopoetisches, bescheiden und grandios zugleich, gibt uns eine Ahnung davon, was sich hinter dem Himmel verbirgt. "Ich wollte etwas heraufbeschwören, das einer alten Zeremonie oder Totenprozession ähnelt", sagt Turner, "wie eine Hymne an die Umgebung eines weit entfernten Hügels." Himmlisch und irdisch zugleich, eine rituelle Beschwörung von Sphärenmusik.

Der Kompakt Label-Familie wurde Turner von dessen zeitweiligen Mitarbeiter Yannis Philippakis (Foals) vorgestellt. Zuvor hatte er in den Post Punk- und Indie-Bands Great Eskimo Hoax und Trophy Wife gespielt. Bis auf eine limitierte lathe-cut 12", der "Prime Mover EP" auf Algebra von 2018, artikuliert Turner mit "Videosphere" zum ersten Mal seine eigene Vision von elektronischer Musik.

Die üppigen Ambient-Disco-Techno-Träume von "Videosphere" hat Turner in seinem Londoner Studio und auf der Schaffarm seiner Eltern in Worcestershire produziert, was den nebulösen, gemächlichen und beinahe pastoralen Charakter des Albums erklären könnte.

"Es gab einen bittersüßen Moment als ich mit der Platte (in Worcestershire) fertig geworden war, da meine Eltern gerade dabei waren, das Haus meiner Kindheit zu verkaufen", seufzt er, bevor er witzelt, "das Positive war, dass ich im Laufe des Sommers eine Menge Schafe geschoren habe". Als Student der Archäologie und der Geschichte des Altertums ist Turner zweifellos mit den sich unaufhörlich drehenden Rädern der Geschichte und der daran geknüpften Erinnerungen vertraut, und es ist keine Überraschung, dass "Videosphere" einen nostalgischen, melancholischen Einschlag hat; viel von seiner Schönheit liegt in der Art und Weise, wie es einem sanft ans Herz geht - die Tränen benetzten Wangen von "Honeycomb" oder der ambivalente Elektro-Reigen von "No Way Back Forever".

Trotz allem hypnotischen Driften und Träumen - Videosphere ist sehr stark im Jetzt verankert. "`No Way Back Forever`ist eine Anspielung auf die lineare Natur der Zeit", erklärt Turner beispielhaft, "und auf den Wendepunkt der globalen Klimakrise, den Wissenschaftler gerade ausgerufen haben". Jayne Powells Gesang wirbelt dabei wie Zuckerwatte durch den Song und steht auch im Mittelpunkt des technoid hymnischen Titelstücks. Überall ist ein Gefühl der Vorwärtsbewegung zu spüren, trotz der Stagnation, in der wir uns Mitte 2020 kollektiv befinden; trotzdem existiert eine Sehnsucht nach dem Gemeinsamen, nach Gemeinschaft, die im Albumtitel eingefangen ist - eine Referenz an ein Objekt, dem Turner im Londoner Geoffrey-Museum begegnete, "ein Fernsehgerät in Form eines Raumfahrerhelms aus den 1970er Jahren".

„Die lose Vision, die ich hatte, bestand darin, eine elektronische Platte zu machen, die eine soziale Wärme und eine fast zeremonielle oder rituelle Atmosphäre ausstrahlt. Ich wollte die Beziehung unseres archaischen Geistes in den Fallstricken der modernen Welt untersuchen", so Turner abschließend. "Was `Videosphere` für mich auch symbolisiert, ist die Einheit von Menschlichkeit und Gemeinschaft, die am Ende obsiegt".

Taking the baton from MW for the second volume of Casting Shadows we invite The Hague mainstay, Intergalactic Gary, to let us peep into his crate of secret gems.

A true music archaeologist and one of the leading lights of the Netherlands’ West Coast scene for over 30 years, his knowledge spans across genres and decades.

Opening proceedings on the A side, we go back to one of Andrea Benedetti’s acid classics – this time revisited at 33RPM, morphing it into a slow-burning dancefloor grinder.

On the B-side, Italo disco duo GAG get a re-airing of their lost classic Flyin’ Bolero. QUAD, the UK duo formed by Mark Carroll and Pete Diggens, closes the EP with a deep breakbeat excursion originally released on Kinetix.

Late 20th Century outsider music from the outskirts of Buenos Aires featuring Alan Courtis, Pablo Reche, Quum and many more artists from the Argentinian underground.

Setting out as an archaeological excavation, literally exhuming material which has been under the surface for more than two decades, this special compilation features work by established and under the radar artists that helped set the now fertile Argentinian underground.

All tracks were directly digitized from the original cassettes masters (half of them never previously released either). The emphasis being to maintain the original sound quality as it was produced at the time (hence the cassette format). The compilation also showcases a broad spectrum style of music that was done at a specific time with very primitive gear - not by choice but because of the obvious economic restrictions of accessing sophisticated equipment forced these musicians on the DIY road. Domestic tape recorders making cassette loops, broken record players, toy keyboards and the noisy ‘fingers on circuitry’ long before Nicolas Collins championed it on Hand-made electronic music.

Whilst some artists actually had access to professional synths and drum machines (Unoxuno, Quum, Jaime Genovart), they still lacked of standard recording equipment. A crucial document then showing how their unique approach to music making influenced the forthcoming experimental scene of South America making these artists influential cult figures of the underground.



Compiled by Juan José Calarco y Pablo Reche
Digitized & Mastered by Juan José Calarco

Electronic / acoustic wonder band KUF deliver a special surprise for their third album: eleven sizzling hot takes on tracks drawn from the Macro label's stellar catalog, as originally crafted by some of today's most respected artists in electronic music. KiNK, Patrick Cowley, Peter Kruder (of K&D), Stefan Goldmann, rRoxymore and more get the treatment. With a nod to the label's previous highly original compilations and mixes from the Macrospective and Vinylism series, Re:Re:Re captures more new ground.

KUF's previous albums presented an astonishing inversion of the typical extended electronic set up, in that they paired a plethora of disembodied, sampled voices with acoustic real time interaction on bass, drums and keys. Re:Re:Re shifts the focus of sampling altogether to scanning entire tracks and compositions which are then reimagined with the band's singular approach. Neither just remixes, nor faithful reproductions, KUF engage in careful sound archaeology. From re-programming key sounds to holistic granular deconstructions, the originals's sound palettes are reproduced to serve as a springboard towards entirely new instalments. The resulting tracks range from intimate ballads to full power dance floor movers, spanning a highly engaging arc of sheer listening pleasure.

Heinrich Dressel was an archaeologist, epigraphist and numismatist, creator of a table, still in use, for the cataloging of Roman amphorae. For over ten years, one of the founders of MinimalRome, Valerio Lombardozzi, has embraced the name of the German scholar, becoming both the guardian of a dense collection of sounds from the past and the creator of new brilliant electronic ones. “Completion Of The Amphoras Table”, originally released on cd by Legowelt's Strange Life Records, was the final chapter of the so-called 'Studium Amphorae Trilogy', a triptych of albums which tried to 'evoke' in notes not only the discoveries and the studies of Monte Testaccio's fragments made by the former pupil of Theodor Mommsen.
The first vinyl release of “Completion Of The Amphoras Table”, curated by Souterraine.org and Envlp_Imprint, fills not only a recording void, but also gives posterity a remarkable album to rediscover, worthy successor of “Mons Testaceum” (2007 ) and “Escape From The Hill” (2008),
which reconstructs one more time the ghostly atmosphere of a Rome at the dawn of the 20th century. Heinrich Dressel adopts the stylistic features of gloomy soundtracks and, above all, relies on a set of polyphonic synthesizers that, starting from the rare Elka Syntex, favor the composition of abstract textures, punctuated by some appropriate variations, and harmonies which, net of the
deep bass, make every single track even more magnetic.

Ophir Kutiel AKA Kutiman is a multi-instrumentalist from Tel Aviv, a “psychedelic space funk architect” to quote Straight No Chaser. When we were approached by his label Siyal about recruiting ZamZam/Khaliphonic artists for a remix project, we loved the idea right away - dub without borders or boundaries is our passion, and getting our hands on Kutiman’s freeform analog explorations felt like an amazing opportunity to push that passion further. All four remixes revel in the freedom of the original tunes, and each, while anchored in dubwise techniques, are totally unhindered by tempo or other genre constraints.

Alter Echo & E3 open with a remix of “Unknown,” the set’s only 140 tune, full up with a bubbling cauldron of bassline and flutes, esoteric vinyl archaeology, spring reverb shocks, and swung percussion.

J:Kenzo, known for 140 and 160 bpm sound system bangers, here takes the chance to stay deep - but in a chill mode - unfurling a beautiful journey of syncopated drum work and slapping percussion framing the lush, meandering melodies of the original “Behind The Noise."

Gulls’ rework of “Mineral” rocks with an offbeat feel, technically in four, but swaying like it’s in three. Plucked guitar figures recall the African roots of contemporary bass music, and tape hiss buffets the listener back and forth through a sonic hall of portals and passages.

Perhaps the most surprising of all four four versions is Headland’s closing “Lucid Dream” remix, which sets course for dub techno country and never looks back. Combining the best of the producer’s masterful sound design and sense of build-and-drop dynamics with the idiom’s 4/4 pulse and focus on immersive space, Headland closes a set as inspired as the album it was based on.

Any historians keen on the subject of "French youth in the 1980s" are holding a treasure in their hands. As a true archaeologist of this decade dedicated to disposable culture, digger-in-chief Vidal Benjamin with his newest compilation, 'Pop Sympathie', offers them a unique journey in the heart of the cyclone of emotions that struck all teenagers during the first seven years of François Mitterrand's mandate. Fifteen musical nuggets, exhumed from the dungeons of history, each and every one of them teaching us about what really obsessed the youngsters at that exact moment, i.e. what happens when the city lights come on at dusk, when irrepressible urges that stir them to get lost even more appear until the end of the night.

The artists gathered here did not have the honour of breaking into the local charts, but they all individually reached for the sky. Each song of 'Pop Sympathie' tells more or less the same story: that of a girl who throws herself into the night like one immerses one's self into the void, who rushes into a one-night adventure to become a star. And too bad if in the early morning she finds herself back at square one. In all these miniature odysseys there is neon lights, lasers, smoke machines, broken glass on checkered tiles, strangers on leather benches, celebrities in the bathrooms, stolen kisses, alcohol, drugs and cigarettes, Polaroids, venetian blinds and radioactive tubes.

If the first opus of Vidal Benjamin, 'Disco Sympathie', focused on the funky mood of songs that could have been played at Le Palace, then 'Pop Sympathie' develops itself as the imaginary soundtrack of another nightclub, Les Bains-Douches, the capital’s epicenter of nocturnal drifts. So what do we listen to, blasé, at Bains-Douches? Mainly synthesizers. The child of punk and post punk, French New Wave celebrates the matrimony of machines and lolitas under the auspices of a retro trend that revisits the atomic age. Trying to surf on that wave and hit the charts, a bunch of producers (Stéphane Berlow, Laurent Stopnicki, Bernard "Black Devil" Fèvre, Johny Rech, Jean-Yves Joanny ...) will spot their talents amongst friends, in a travel agency or at the local bar. These virtual stars are called Cecilia, Laurent, Sonia, Janou, Fabienne, Anne, Arielle or Ronan, not even 20 years old, and often leaving just an overexposed photo and their first name on a single as the only memories of their swift passage in this particular musical story. It took all the love and sweet madness of Vidal Benjamin to bring them back in the light of day.

Clovis Goux

'learning To Cope With Cowardice', The Groundbreaking Debut
Solo Album By Visionary Post Punk Iconoclast Mark Stewart, Is To Be Given A Definitive Reissue Alongside 'the Lost Tapes', A Newly Discovered Cache Of Unreleased Material.
'learning To Cope With Cowardice' Is Released On Double Cd,
Double Vinyl With Digital Download Code And Separately As
Digital Download Albums. 'learning To Cope With Cowardice' Is A Vital Chapter In The Legacy Of Mark Stewart & The Maffia, A Project That Would Prove To Be A Revolutionary Benchmark For Many, From The Innovators Of The 'bristol Sound' (the Wild Bunch, Smith & Mighty, Tricky, Massive Attack) Through To The Likes Of Trent Reznor And Nine Inch Nails. Collected Together This Set Realizes An Expansive Restoration Of One Of Stewart's Most Audacious Statements. As It Was In The Early 1980s So It Is Now, 'learning To Cope With Cowardice' Is A Masterwork Of Mutant Design And A Rude Awakening Of Extraordinary Bite.
Mark Stewart Himself Perceives 'the Lost Tapes' As A Document
That Now Possesses A Storied Significance: it Was A Real
Adventure Discovering This Forbidden History, A Twisted Tale Of
Muswell Hillbillies, French Pirates And A Dutch Schizophrenic
Doctor Doing Psychic Archaeology.' Whilst Adrian Sherwood
Describes These Works As Characteristic Of A Distinct Primitivism: ('the Lost Tapes' Represent) The Early Childhood Of The Songs Before Mark And Me Conducted Frenzied, Scorched Earth, Slash And-burn, Twenty Hour Mental, Manic Editing Sessions At Crass' Studios That Led To Birthing The Finished Album.'

Our Favourite Bothy Botherers Mac-talla Nan Creag (comprised Of Hoch Ma Toch, Other Lands And Lord Of The Isles) Return To Firecracker Recordings, Channeling Ancient Rites, The Mysteries Of The Scottish Landscape And Its Elements Through Technologies Both Old And New For Your Listening Pleasure.

This Time Round The Archaeological Work Of Forestry Commission Scotland At Dun Deardail In Glen Nevis, And The Links Between That Site And The Ancient Celtic Myth 'the Sorrow Of Derdriu' Provided Fertile Ground For New Exploration And Response. Accompanying The Music Once Again Will Be A Lush Booklet Containing Some Of The Stunning Imagery That Results From The Work Fcs Have Done There, All Packaged And Silk-screened With The Usual Finesse We've Come To Expect From Firecracker Recordings And Their Chief Visionary House Of Traps, In Conjunction With 12th Isle's Al White.

Captured In Part In A High Vaulted Medieval Church, Then In Home Studios, Bouncing Ideas Back And Forth Over The Internet, Mtnc Have Once Again Drawn On Field Recordings, Traditional Instrumentation, Analogue Electronics And The Simple Power Of The Human Voice To Create A Shimmering And Expansive Song Cycle.

Whereas The First Album Was Borne Out Of An Intense Period Of Field Trips And Whisky Fuelled Jam Sessions In Brochs And Had A Loose Approach Overall, The Second Is Perhaps More Focussed In Its Themes Relating To The Ancient Tale - Love, War, Beauty And Tragedy All Intertwined - And They Arguably Go Deeper This Time, Conjuring Up Something Of The Fourth World Feel, By Way Of The Firth Of Forth.

With Additional Contributions From Professor John Kenny - Whose Primal Zummoesque Playing On A Range Of Horns Including A Giant Conch Shell And A Replica Of The Ancient Deskford Carynx Underpins Several Tracks On The Album - And Eva Sutherland (daughter Of Other Lands) Who Provides A Reading From The Myth At The Very Beginning, This Is An Album That Not Only Carries The Heaviness Of History But Also Looks To The Light Of The Future.'

Re-mastering by: Ray Staff at Air Mastering, Lyndhurst Hall, London

Four-and-a-half decades after the event, saxophonist Charles Lloyd's Love-In, recorded live at San Francisco's Fillmore Auditorium in 1967, the counterculture's West Coast music hub, endures as much as an archaeological artifact as a musical document. From sleeve designer Stanislaw Zagorski's treatment of Rolling Stone photographer Jim Marshall's cover shot, through the album title and some of the track titles ("Tribal Dance," "Temple Bells"), and the inclusion of John Lennon and Paul McCartney's "Here There and Everywhere," Love-In's semiology reeks of the acid-drenched zeitgeist of the mid 1960s, a time when creative music flourished, and rock fans were prepared to embrace jazz, provided the musicians did not come on like their parents: juicers dressed in sharp suits exuding cynicism.




It is likely that more joints were rolled on Love-In's cover than that of any other jazz LP of the era, with the possible exception of saxophonists John Coltrane's A Love Supreme (Impulse!, 1965) and Pharoah Sanders's Tauhid (Impulse!, 1967). Chet Helms, a key mover and shaker in the West Coast counterculture, spoke for many when he hailed the Lloyd quartet as "the first psychedelic jazz group."




It is to Lloyd's credit that, at least in the early stages of his adoption by the counterculture, he resisted dumbing down his music. The adoption stemmed from Lloyd's espoused attitude to society, his media savvy, his sartorial style and his sheer nerve in playing jazz in the temples of rock culture. He took the quartet into the Fillmore West three years before trumpeter Miles Davis took his into the Fillmore East—as documented on Live at the Fillmore East, March 6 1970: It's About That Time (Columbia)—by which time his pianist, Keith Jarrett, and drummer, Jack DeJohnette, were members of Davis' band (although Jarrett didn't appear at the 1970 gig).