Rochelle Jordan is proudly stepping into her diva era. To those in the know, the Los Angeles-based British-Canadian singer and songwriter has long been an underground force coaxing together the mutually flirtatious scenes of daring alt-R&B and heart-pumping electronic music. With her longtime creative director/producer KLSH, she’s cultivated a singular marriage of sound — mixing soulful sensuality, house bump, DnB wildness, hip-hop swagger, and pure experimentalism — that’s spread not only through certain circles, but also to the mainstream. At the same time that her gauzy 2014 single “Lowkey” was going viral in 2023 — racking up 21 million streams on Spotify alone — she was in the studio cooking with tastemaking beatsmiths like KAYTRANADA and Sango, quietly preparing to melt dance floors and headphones alike.
Now, as the timelines merge, Jordan is approaching success with the sparkle of a brand new star and the stance of someone who’s earned everything she has. Her new musical chapter aims to carry forward the magic that fans feel in her coquettish vocals and bold soundscapes even as she reaches deeper into her pop bag. The fact that her first single of 2025, the darkly dazzling “Crave,” was produced by Chicago house legend Terry Hunter (Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, Beyoncé) speaks volumes to this exact moment in Jordan’s ascendent trajectory.
“My goal when I first started making music was to bring back something that I felt had started to fade away for me,” says Jordan. “That certain essence or sound that would give me butterflies in my stomach when I’d listen to music — it would unleash some kind of chemical that would make me feel happy and excitable and curious, something that would make my soul shine. My number one goal is always: How do I give people that feeling when they listen to my music?”
Jordan grew up in Toronto raised by British-Jamaican parents. She remembers hearing one of her older brothers cycling through a variety of music at maximum volume in the room next to hers. “Reggae to soul to drum and bass to garage music to gospel,” Jordan recalls. “It was all intertwining for me at such a young age.” She developed her own sound quietly, and soon met KLSH through MySpace. They traded multiple songs back and forth daily until he flew her out to L.A. to record what would become her debut project, 2011’s R O J O. That collaboration hasn’t faltered since, resulting in sonically surprising, subtly infectious sets like Jordan’s breakthrough 2014 album 1021 (with “Lowkey”) and 2021’s dance-steeped revelation, Play with the Changes.
“If you’re talking about Rochelle Jordan, you’re talking about KLSH,” she says. “It’s one and the same. We come from the same inspiration source.” With him at her side to this day, Jordan is crafting new listening experiences as radiant as refracted light glimmering through a prism — an incredible space from within which to explore love in all its iterations — from romantic infatuation to self-affirmation, and strength in womanhood to pride for what she’s accomplished thus far.
More than a decade into her career, Jordan has arrived at a new stage of life and creativity — she’s a seasoned professional, a fully realized woman, and she’s excited to continue growing. “I know my story isn’t necessarily a new one,” she says. “I look at 2 Chainz, who became 2 Chainz way later on in his life. I look at Tina Turner, who became Tina Turner at 40. I want to be another story of resilience for people.” As she prepares to unveil more of her vision, and fans clamber for a long-awaited fourth album, Rochelle Jordan is casting aside self-doubt, and appreciating and underlining her status as a verifiably influential reigning diva in her one-of-one sonic space.
Your Biggest Fans, these are... STANS. Official STANS Soundtrack Vinyl, featuring the tracks from the STANS movie and previously unreleased songs.
The second volume in Death Is Not The End's survey of a form of Brazilian country music known as música caipira ("hillbilly music") - a stripped-back forerunner to música sertaneja, the Brazilian equivalent to US country & western which in it's contemporary form has come to dominate the domestic music industry in recent decades. This collection covers some of the earliest recordings made by the pioneering folklorist Cornélio Pires at the end of the 1920s, through to records from the 30s, 40s & 50s and the beginning of the 60s.
Somewhat rooted in Portuguese troubadour folk traditions, música caipira is typically performed by a duo singing in parallel thirds and sixths, drawing upon a Portuguese-Brazilian style known as moda de viola - with the viola being the viola caipira, a Brazilian-style ten-string guitar that is the core instrument of the music. Born out of the "outback"-style region in north-eastern Brazil, these songs tell stories of pain, love, loss & betrayal - often backed by homemade guitars using invented tunings. Away from the polished pop country & western-stylings of the sertaneja, these recordings could be viewed as the Brazilian equivalent to the roots music of the American dustbowl or Appalachia.
ULURU is a large sandstone rock formation in Australia. It's sacred to the Anangu, the local Indigenous of the area. For many years it had been deprived of its spiritual significance, due to mass tourism, capitalism, as well as greedy and selfishness of people who just want to make money out of it. However, as a result of the Anangu’s resilience, care and staunchness, huge changes took place in the national park around Uluru as well as in the broader public's consciousness, giving again to the Uluru the sacred identity that had been lost.
You might be reading and thinking now: so what's the point? Actually, there's no real point. I would rather say, there’s hope. The hope of seeing humans all around the world following the example of the Anangu. The hope of seeing humans finally stopping to treat the earth and all what’s part of it, what’s on and what’s in it, as a slave without soul. The hope of changing today, and if not today at latest by tomorrow. This system is failing. It's no longer sustainable, and there's no much time left.
So everybody, don't sleep, be critical.
Jalapeno Records are celebrating their 25th anniversary in the business. The label are marking the occasion with the release of a 3LP compilation featuring some of label boss Trevor Mac's favourite dancefloor gems from across the years. From a humble start in a basement recording studio on Holloway Road to a quarter century anniversary celebrated from their Brighton offices – Jalapeno Records has been an indie label with a mission - to bring the funk to the masses. Along the way that has taken in so many genres from chill to house, gospel to soul, breaks to drum & bass but it has all had a common thread running through it - the funk. "Twenty Five years means there are too many artists to list and this album is not supposed to be a Greatest Hits. We did that on the 20th anniversary. The album is dedicated to all of the artists that trusted us with their music and all the people who supported us along the way" says Trevor
k 11. Back Again (Hot Toddy Remix) feat. John Turrell — Kraak & Smaak
n 14. Alone with You (Purple Disco Machine Remix) [feat. Cleopold] — Kraak & Smaak
[k] 11. Back Again (Hot Toddy Remix) [feat. John Turrell] — Kraak & Smaak
[n] 14. Alone with You (Purple Disco Machine Remix) [feat. Cleopold] — Kraak & Smaak
[k] 11. Back Again (Hot Toddy Remix) [feat. John Turrell] — Kraak & Smaak
[n] 14. Alone with You (Purple Disco Machine Remix) [feat. Cleopold] — Kraak & Smaak
‘Butter’ is 10-tracks of intricately crafted modern soul from CHERISE and testament to CHERISE’s ability for creating gorgeous, honeyed Wonky Soul that’s the perfect soundtrack for chilled evenings in company of Steve Lacy, Moses Sumney, and Tierra Whack.
Showcasing CHERISE’s passion for collaboration, the project features rising artists Frida Touray and Meduulla and follows CHERISE’s acclaimed debut album ‘Calling’ - a sonic homage to her elders who journeyed to England as part of the Windrush generation.
A truly multi-faceted artist, CHERISE is fast proving herself to be one of the most fiercely talented young musicians in the UK. Her effortless, irresistible vocals, alongside her honest, soulful songwriting manage to be simultaneously both contemporary and timeless. In everything, she’s guided by knowing who she came from, who she is, and what she has to say. Now with ‘Butter’, CHERISE embraces her impulses and redefines what it means to be a modern day Soul artist.
2026 Repress
Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.
The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.
Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”
Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.
Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”
As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”
With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.
In 2022, In the Red Records released The Great Confrontation, an album of instrumental electronic music by Chip Kinman. It was Chip’s first solo album; his previous recording, This American Blues, by his band Ford Madox Ford, was issued just prior to the 2018 death of his brother Tony. The Kinmans had been partnered musically since they were teens, in a variety of now-legendary projects: the OG California punk band the Dils, the pathfinding cowpunk unit Rank and File, the ear-shattering electro-rock duo Blackbird, and the Western music twosome Cowboy Nation.
In the wake of The Great Confrontation, Chip and In the Red plotted another record. The resultant collection, Chip Kinman, is reflective, soulful, and profoundly affecting, a statement of identity and a look back at life that avoids the pitfalls that could derail an autobiographical work.
"I had to figure out something to write about, and I thought, it’s time to make that record," Chip says. "A long time ago, Tony and I were talking about singer-songwriters, and he said, ‘If you’re going to sing about your life, you better have had a fucking interesting life.’ And I thought, I have. I’ve gotta deep-dive into that. I figured, if I was going to write about what it was like, how was I gonna approach that? How was I going to say that without being nostalgic or without being maudlin or without being over-celebratory? It it was, well, just say it like it was."
Having established himself as one of the most exciting contemporary dance producers with a string of stellar releases, Japanese producer boys be kko returns triumphantly with the Nagasawa EP, four floor cuts bursting with emotion, shimmering in Tokyo technicolor, and perfectly at home on Bliss Point.
Nagasawa kicks off with a bang. “ChuKii” is a peak time heater: breaks, chopped vocals and punchy toms sear over a low end groove that proves body music can funk. Melodic acid explodes like a firework mid-track, taking the dance floor to psychedelic new heights.
The club psychedelia continues with “Mold Mold”, a minimal, subterranean system roller adorned with swells, bells, and deep, guttural growls dubbed to the vanishing point.
“Sant Esteve (kko Edit)” is melancholic and contemplative jazz house, eschewing cliché and twinging with nostalgia for that moment you felt most free.
“Humor is an important part of my music”, boys be kko reflected over lunch as Izakaya smoke billowed past his face. “Oignon”, the fourth and final track on Nagasawa, is an airy and joyful slice of sampledelia that makes good on this promise. An enormous smile of a track sending listeners off with a slice of sonic sunshine and, dare we say, hope.
‘Pilot’ is the debut album from London quintet Miniseries. Channelling the epic sweep of TV themes and movie soundtracks into resplendent space rock they explore themes of youth and ageing, heartbreak and paranoia, euphoria and existential dread.
Songwriter Doug Morch (Longview) had been working on largely acoustic folk songs when he met Angela Gannon (The Magic Numbers) at Glastonbury 2017. Romance and musical collaboration ensued. The band coalesced in the hallowed environs of Farringdon's The Betsey Trotwood pub – a musical nexus where burgeoning indie and Americana scenes collide – where they met fellow songwriter and guitarist Dermot Watson (from Brighton's The Dials) and drummer Danny Abbasi and were joined by Doug's former bandmate Aidan Banks on bass. When they came together, their indie folk mutated into motorik art rock, with their first single being an eight-minute jam called "Road".
When it came to capturing their sound, the band reached for maverick musician and producer Sean Read. They recorded tracks at Read's Famous Times studio in Clapton, London, as well as at Edwyn Collins' Clashnarrow in Helmsdale, Scotland – one of the world's most breathtaking and idiosyncratic studio locations, adding unquantifiable magic to the proceedings.
For the closing track "May You Always", they headed to another studio imbued with tangible inspiration: Blueprint Studio in Salford with producer Craig Potter (Elbow) at the helm. For the song, Dermot drew cinematic inspiration from the Withnail & I line "I'll never play The Dane", the song is about realising that the things you aspired to in youth will never come to pass and being at peace with that realisation.
The recurring themes of youth and ageing are apparent in the resplendent lead track ‘You're Gold’ – a heartfelt call for young people to reject materialism and exploitative influencer culture in search of life's deeper meaning, with stylistic nods to The Pixies and early Stereolab.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, "Sepia" explores old age and fading memories through dementia, where the ending descends into chaos like a fragmenting mind. Elements of "Sepia" are foreshadowed in the album's opening track, the instrumental "Pilot Theme", which pays homage to TV theme music, invoking spy thrillers or perhaps something otherworldly from science fiction.
“Offcumdens” is a Calder Valley, Yorkshire term for people who live in the area but come from somewhere else. Hailing from Bury, Lancashire, Morch wrote the song while living in Hebden Bridge (and watching too much Happy Valley) and found himself being an offcumden. It’s a pop at the kind of local nativism which breeds intolerance and an illustration of the sinister rise of wider political populism.
Miniseries' Pilot is just the beginning of the story. Enthralling and atmospheric, the London quintet have created something familiar yet timeless. As singer Doug Morch says, "It's the Miniseries Pilot episode. Like the TV episode a studio makes to test whether it's viable.” In the age of streaming and box-sets, this is an album to truly binge on. We can’t wait to hear what happens next.
Leave it to Langhorne Slim - a pioneer of raw, rule-breaking Americana for more than two decades - to reach far beyond the genre he helped inspire.
The Dreamin' Kind finds the Nashville transplant strapping on an electric guitar and embracing his longtime love of larger-than-life rock & roll. With it's chugging power chords, 1970s-sized riffs, and richly layered arrangements, The Dreamin' Kind is fueled not only by sheer amplification, but by the soul-baring songwriting that's become Slim's calling card, too. Tucked between those anthems are acoustic-driven songs that skirt the outer orbits of folk music, from the bare-boned heartbreak of ''Stealin' Time'' to the organic, orchestral sweep of ''Dance On Thru.'' The result is the more explorative and expansive album of Slim's career: a record made for rock clubs, campfires, and garages alike, produced by Greta Van Fleet's Sam Kiszka, and anchored by a lifelong desire to break down new walls.
''It felt like I was blowing some old shit up so I could plant some new flowers,'' Slim says of the creation process. ''I love acoustic music. I love folk music. But those aren't my only loves. Rock & roll has always tickled the same place in my soul as great singer-songwriter music, and I wanted to explore those influences. Raw songs that make you feel something: that's the stuff I'm after.''
Ltd. Orange Vinyl Finnish powerhouse Bloodred Hourglass (BRHG) return with their seventh studio album “We Should Be Buried Like This”, a bold and unrelenting statement from a band that has steadily evolved into one of the most commanding forces in modern death metal. Hailing from Mikkeli, BRHG have long stood out for their ability to merge the ferocity of thrash and groove metal with the immersive soundscapes of metalcore, alternative metal, and melodic death. Their music is as dynamic and emotionally resonant as it is heavy and entertaining - a mix that has earned them critical acclaim, a devoted international fanbase, and a reputation for explosive live performances. On “We Should Be Buried Like This”, the band takes their darkest, most unfiltered turn yet. Described as “a work of end-time songs,” this album does not aim to comfort or explain. It’s a raw, confrontational piece built around the slow erosion of hope, the fading of love, the repetition of generational mistakes, and a world defined by self-obsession, disconnection, and indifference. “There’s no pleading, no sugarcoating,” the band explains. “We’re not here to prove anything. This is an album born from an urgent drive to rip things open and say them as they are.” Musically, “We Should Be Buried Like This” is the most aggressive and straightforward album BRHG have ever crafted, yet it never loses sight of the unmistakable melodic power that defines their sound. With searing riffs, explosive energy, and sweeping emotional depth, the album pulses with intensity from start to finish. Guest appearances and fresh sonic elements are woven throughout, yet the band remains firmly rooted in the signature style they’ve spent years perfecting.
Full of joy, they ran to meet him.
Then threw one of the shirts over each of them,
and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans,
and flew away over the woods.
The record is comprised of a series of improvised recordings made over the course of an evening in Autumn ’23, captured at the Jabu home studio, south Bristol while Teresa was staying in town for a show. Everything was recorded into the desk in a single take and left as it was, no editing or overdubs, instruments were swapped around and effects units left buzzing ground hum scattered over the floor.
Teresa and Guest (Jasmine of Jabu) provided the vocals, taking words from anything at hand - poetry books, an old copy of the Whole Earth Catalog - their voices winding together, echoing out each other’s melodies. This approach is mirrored by the instrumentals, anchored by something at times - a bassline, one of Birthmark’s synth drones or a fizzing chord but always on the edge of collapsing in on itself or floating away. The tracks become more soporific as the record goes on (and as the night got later), ending on a refrain of ‘say you think its true’ as the instrumental finally dissolves the pedals get dialled up to 11 and Birthmark’s drones turn into distant lasers in a last swan song of feedback.
Recorded Sep 2023 in Bristol, BS3, by:
Teresa Winter (vocals, fx)
Guest (vocals, guitar, fx)
Birthmark (synth, fx)
A.Childs (samples, bass, guitar)
The Sha La Das are Bill Schalda and his talented sons Paul, Will and Carmine, originating from Staten Island, NY.
Your Picture, the Sha La Das’ second album and the first release on producer Tom Brenneck's own label, Diamond West Records, is yet another singular testament to the stirring power of blood harmony and a celebration of the enduring love story between Bill and the family matriarch, Linda.
Traces of old memories flicker through Your Picture. Bill’s classic songwriting and lush vocal arrangements get whirled into new territory, updating doo-wop with the bottom-heavy groove and swirling pop of Brenneck’s lean, spacious production. “We brought in some psychedelic sounds and drew inspiration from deep soul records to the Beatles and Beach Boys alike,” Brenneck says.
Love radiates throughout Your Picture, flowing out from the shimmering melodies Bill and his sons produce. Bill Schalda and sons are living their musical dream—Your Picture is the proof.
Gonzen, uminari or retumbos. Perhaps you've heard these sounds? They're known to occur all over the world and, as one might expect, humans have strained to offer various explanations for these unsettling emissions that materialise unbidden from the sky.
We like to say that we've understood what's happening so that we can move on. Tidy up the loose ends and don't scare the horses. Nothing wrong with that in good measure, but there's something to be said for the Haudenosaunee peoples' explanation. They pointed out that the Great Spirit hasn't finished their work of shaping the earth and is making a fair bit of noise while they're at it.
If you accept that many questions never truly get answered, in fact can or should never truly be answered, you may be able to tune your mind to this collection of lingering sonic detonations. If you accept that the work is ongoing, our labours seldom done, that there's not much point talking about the end of anything, you may be ready to join us. It's not our task to finish it, nor are we free to desist.
II[29,37 €]
Reissue of the 3rd full length by Thomas Bücker aka Bersarin Quartett.
Melancholia. Longing. It is difficult to speak about these moods or states of the mind without invoking stereotypes. In ancient medicine, melancholia was considered to be one of the four temperaments, matching the four humours. In fact, melancholia, meaning "black bile" in Ancient Greek, was thought to be caused by an excess of this very body substance. By contrast, in more modern interpretations, literates and Freudians relate many variations of longing to the one primordial longing, the desire to return to one's mother's womb. In this context, the womb is considered to be the place of absolute comfort and cosiness, of total bliss. Thus it should not be surprising that to many of us melancholia is a mood which we like to invoke and to maintain, we like to envelop ourselves in it like in a warm blanket. Our brain and our sensory systems appear to be made for perceiving and emotionally responding to music in a very immediate fashion. Consequently music is the obvious drug for all of us melancholia-addicts. However, there is a thin line between melancholia and sadness, and music which is meant to be melancholic too often crosses this line by far. Only very few artists succeed in avoiding this crossing, and in creating music which is melancholia in its most pure form. It is safe to say that BERSARIN QUARTETT - the electronic music project of Thomas Bücker - is one of them.
After his debut in 2008 and the sophomore "II" in 2012 - album of the month in many magazines and in numerous "Best of the year" lists - Bücker in 2015 returned with his third BERSARIN QUARTETT album "III". Much like his two predecessors, III is a pure paradox. It is the creation of a perfectionist, an adamant control freak. Every element, be it a note, an ambience layer, a string arrangement, a field recording, a baseline, a vocal (Clara Hill on Track 11) or a beat, is meticulously modified and then assigned its place in Bücker's vast but still minimalistic arrangements. Thus, superficially Bücker's pieces seem to radiate a certain mechanical bleakness. However, there is a unique reduced warmth and liveliness emerging from these stainless compositions and transcending them. This transcendence is precisely the point where Bücker ironically looses control over his creations. In contrast to the first two BERSARIN QUARTETT albums, III offers a few darker shades and succeeds even further in narrowing down the arrangements to the absolute essentials without loosing the characteristic grandeur of Bücker's sound. Whereas BERSARIN QUARTETT's debut was merely a description of melancholia in its most pure form, III maybe even goes as far a defining what melancholia really is. It is the only emotion in the vast spectrum of human states of mind which one can bear forever.
Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands is an autobiographical record, comprised of four songs that Hoff refers to as ambient media. Each track is composed from sources drawn from his own involuntary aural landscape, specifically musical earworms and tinnitus frequencies.
Neither sound nor a daydream, the earworm (or stuck song) emblematizes music as a commercial form—immediate, ubiquitous, and persistent. Likewise, tinnitus is inaudible and unscrupulous, manifesting across a spectrum of frequencies at will. The cognitive swirling of these phenomena provides an ambivalent, internal soundtrack that scores a person’s movement through the world.
Those suffering from tinnitus or those who have grown accustomed to the “Tinnitus Effect” in movies will likely recognize the buzzing pitches on the record, but will likely not recognize the songs. Distorted and distilled, Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands features altered versions of four commercial pop songs: Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Madonna’s “Into the Groove,” and Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day.”
Having been haunted by these songs on and off for years, Hoff tweaks the tracks, transposing and recomposing them for orchestral instrumentation. Speaking back to these involuntary echoes, these tracks go to great lengths to obfuscate their sources; to be sure not to simply re-introduce each earworm, as though they were samples. Otherwise, what’s the point? No one needs another stream.
Besides, earworms are not music, although we perceive them as such. They are non-cochlear and exist as an affective force that is neither subjective nor objective, which is to say they are an invasive—and alien—phenomenon. Like tinnitus, they are aggravated by economic, social, and environmental forces as well as emotional states, mental health, and aging. Hoff doesn’t underplay his own struggles with mental health in discussing the record—noting a long history of depression and its acuteness over the last few years, which serve as the backdrop to the composition of this record.
Scratch any pop song hard enough and you’ll find sadness underneath it. Subdermal, the songs on this record evoke a type of ephemeral weariness and despair. By recasting the original songs through their shadowy doubles, Hoff provides a window into the dark core of pop music. At the center of which lies capitalism’s desperate attempt to replicate itself through a cheap high built on echoing refrains. Just below the surface the listener finds a hangover of shadows dancing through the mind.
