Suche:bad sam

All Bad, the latest album from Nick Shoulders, ultimately encapsulates everything that makes Shoulders’ inimitable form of country music so vital: a heady balance of dazzling musicianship and punk defiance, coupled with gritty eccentricity and a generational connection to the roots of the genre. With a singing style inherited from his family’s vocal lineage, Nick’s songs achieve the rare feat of imparting difficult truths while inciting a certain joyful abandon, balancing a sound forged by years of hard travel with a heartfelt reverence for the origins of country music. In the spirit of Hazel Dickens and Jimmy Driftwood, the incisive yet wildly jubilant All Bad vocally objects to the reckless destruction of the natural landscape and development run rampant, while still offering plenty of joy and dance-ready rhythms. Spanning a variety of early country styles, the album’s infectious harmonies shine alongside everything from jangling cajun waltzes to surf-rock infused bluesy ballads–all tied together by a voice seemingly out of place in this century, yet ever ready to speak up about its problems.

Released via Gar Hole Records (a label founded and co-owned by Shoulders), All Bad marks the first LP made with his longtime band, the Okay Crawdad, since 2019’s premier full-length Okay, Crawdad and their subsequent pandemic-imposed hiatus. After writing most of the album from the front seat of a tour van, the Fayetteville, AR-based musician and bandmates Grant D’Aubin (harmonies/bass), Cheech Moosekian (drums) and Jack Studer (lead guitar) recorded the album in a home studio on the banks of the mississippi river with New Orleans collaborators Ross Farbe and Sam Doores.

Lisbon-based producer & DJ, Helder Russo is a standout figure in Portugal's electronic music scene. Helder's work has gained acclaim since his early releases on Groovement, Tomorrow Is Now, Kid! & most recently, Percebes.

His 2019 release 'Onfrico' & the 2021 anthem 'Cascalho' showcased his unique blend of Chicago House, Detroit Techno, London-inspired breaks & rich African influences. As a true ambassador for Portuguese dance music, his music is highly regarded.

Now, Helder presents his debut album 'Nha Joia' (Creole for 'My Jewel'), a heartfelt tribute to his beloved mother. This collection features the 80's cop show inspired 'Parsley park', the infectious 'Whippit', the emotional 'Nha Joia', the Outkast-reminiscent 'Muscanite', the futuristic techno soul of '11.22' & the gritty 'Badio' & 'Sampa'.

This album is brilliant, honest, & complete - Recommended for fans of Carl Craig, Underground Resistance, Larry heard, Kamasi Washington & Thundercat. Sleep now, cry later.

Where's Joao Donato? It's a frequently asked question, referring simultaneously to the physical location and the musical moment he inhabits. A sampling of some of his more descriptive song titles suggests Donato's comfort with musical hybrids: "Bluchanga," "Sambolero," and "Sambongo," to name just a few. Lacking a formal genre for his style of music, Donato's is a distinct sound, immediately recognizable from the first few bars of any of his compositions. He was funky back when "funk" was a bad word (listen to either of his 1960s Brazilian LPs, Sambou, Sambou and The New Sound if Brasil, for proof). His compositions are deceptively simple, while his arrangements are harmonically complex, revealing their intricate details upon repeat listening. Today, Donato brings this flavor, now near synonymous with his name, to a new album in the Jazz Is Dead series with Adrian Younge and Ali Shaheed Muhammad: Joao Donato JID007. "Donato is one of the greatest Brazilian composers from that golden era. His signature style, simple melodies combined with colorful chordal progressions, establishes a new lane for Jazz Is Dead," explains Younge. "Joao is one of the most innovative Brazilian jazz composers of the last century. Creating with and learning from this maestro was one of the greatest experiences of my career."

“Trustworthy”. is the meaning of “danama”, this Bambara word from Mali. Believing in oneself, in others, in the word given, in desirable futures. Advocating optimism, momentum towards the future, collective strength and the wise magic of cultural blending… especially during these troubled times of endless wars, of nationalist withdrawals or the abundance of naturals disasters, all encouraged by a carnivorous capitalism?

So confidence, we need tons of it. Maintained by the flame, the phlegm and the stratagem of these afro-groove scientists, without ignoring their sorrows nor the scandals of History. This is the athletic art of Arat Kilo, who remain without question the best ethio-jazz orchestra in France, on the trail of this fifth album recorded in the Spring of 2024. Confidence was also needed to change the way things worked. For all the previous albums, the band came together in the studio to play each track together, all in the same room, in the romantic idea of a warm, lively, organic gesture, in the manner of the great Ethiopian masters of the 60s and 70s.

For Danama, the music was initially collected in tandem: guitar/bass, drums/percussion, saxophone/trumpet, and the two voices. A few new instruments were added along the way : dark synthesizers, a bass clarinet, a tiny guitalélé (similar to the ukulele) and a Malian n'goni (sometimes described as ‘the griot's lute’). Then, and above all, there was the question of experimenting with real sound production, using sound design, multi-track exploration and effects applied to the textures collected over eight days at the Gong studios in Montreuil and OneTwoPassIt in Bagnolet just outside Paris.

In this way the band, all growing up influenced by the hip French Radio Nova's ‘Grand Mix’, were completely free to express their natural taste for fusion between genres. Borrowing from the frantic rhythms of Newark's jersey club, English 2-step or New Orleans brass bands, grafted onto Arat Kilo's musical base: tezeta, the famous minor pentatonic scale typical of Ethiopian jazz, melancholic to perfection. The result is layers of sound, collages of emotions, like the album cover, created by artist Clément Laurentin from multicoloured fragments of posters torn up in the street.

So Arat Kilo are back: The same band, the same collective strength, the same fight for values, their new album “Danama” carries the demand for a better world even further, with words of hope from singer Mamani Keita and the social critique of American MC and poet Mike Ladd ! The result is this luminous voyage down the Danama canal. In all, eleven songs and an instrumental, mixed by Mathieu ‘Gib’ Gibert - one of French band La Fine Équipe's beatmakers - set to drive the crowds wild and remind us how to stick together again.

Et Voila! Jexy plugs a glovefull of his best-loved Bad Timin' tunes into the vinyl machine for a "Greatest Hits" of sorts. Featuring big tunes like "Music" on vinyl for the first time, this five-tracker is a must-have for the vinyl lovers out there. While supplies last!

Scruscru has launched a new label called Tunes Delivery and it is back with another banger here in the former of LTF's Fine Tuning album. It comes hot on the heels of some sublime Soviet jazz-funk sample madness on previous works and is another production masterclass. These are deep-cut funk sounds with cooling organ chords, hints of Money Mark vibes and psyched-out synths, wah-wah guitars and plenty of rawness to keep things authentic and timeless. The jazzy flutes of 'Bokeh' make it one of our favourites here but there isn't a single bad jam, truth be told.

Scientist's name will be found on many dub releases in peoples record collections.His connection to King Tubby's studio is inseparable and many say when the dub end of Reggae music had fallen on quieter times it was Scientist with his often stripped back style and at other times, wild off the wall remixes that breathed life back into the dub cannon.

Scientist (born Overton Brownie,1960, Jamaica) was in many ways King Tubby's apprentice. Having helped his own father out repairing televisions and such like, he would help Tubby on winding transformer coils, that the amps of the day all needed. His interest in recording grew as he watched the many sessions taking place at Tubby's Dromilly Avenue Studio, learning the ropes as the musicians came and went. His first break happened when King Jammy (then Prince Jammy) was too tired to work on a session booked for producer Errol 'Don' Mais. Scientist engineered the session to every one’s bewilderment and great satisfaction.

His first hit would be a mix of Barrington Levy's 'Collie Weed' and his reputation built on the many versions he cut at Tubby's where he would become the engineer of choice. His pared down mixing style suited the new Dancehall reggae sound that came at the tail end of the 1970's and rolled into the 1980's. Such was his stature that albums were now sold with his name on their jacket, 'Scientist Vs Prince Jammy, 'Scientist meets The Space Invaders' to name but two.

His time at King Tubby's was followed as chief engineer working for the Hookim Brothers at the mighty Channel 1 Studio's and on many of top producer Henry 'Junjo' Lawes tracks, that were hit after hit at the time.

We have compiled some tuff tracks from the late 70's / early 80's just before everything went digital. Some great dub versions to some killer tracks that rocked the dancehalls around this golden time.The mighty Tristan Palmer whose killer cuts 'BadBoys','Stop Spreading Rumours','Eveready' and 'The Greatest Lover’ alongside Michael Palmer's debut release 'Mr Landlord' and Robert Trench's 'Mr Babylon'. The songs stand back-to-back with Tony Tuff's timeless 'Never Trouble Trouble' and the biblical Rod Taylor's 'The Lord is My Light'. Sammy Dread's 'Wah Dah Wah' and the always respectful Dennis Brown's 'Time and Place' all benefited a touch of magic from The Scientist and his laboratory of effects.

Hope you enjoy the set.....

Bethesda Game Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die Musik von 'Starfield' auf Deluxe-Vinyl zu bringen.

In allen Titeln der Bethesda Game Studios ist die Musik ein wesentlicher Bestandteil der Reise des Spielers und ein ständiger Begleiter während seines Abenteuers. Die langjährige Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem Komponisten Inon Zur und dem Studio begann bereits 2008 mit der Veröffentlichung von Fallout 3. Die Musik zu 'Starfield' sollte sowohl die Weite des Weltraums als auch die Neugier der Menschen auf das Unbekannte zum Ausdruck bringen. So verwob Zur traditionelle und nicht-traditionelle orchestrale und elektronische Klänge zu einem Klangteppich aus Organischem und Synthetischem.

Während der Entwicklung hat das Team ein eklektisches Spektrum an Referenzpunkten durchlaufen: Es begann bei den Sci-Fi-Grundsäulen von John Williams und Jerry Goldsmith, durchquerte einen klassischen Nebel von Debussy, Ravel und Prokofiev, flog an Vangelis' überragendem Synthesizerwerk vorbei und warf einen Blick auf die experimentellen Arbeiten der Einstürzenden Neubauten und von John Cage.

In den Orchesterstücken von Starfield, die vom Budapester Filmorchester eingespielt wurden, beschwören verschiedene Instrumentalgruppen oft imaginäre Aspekte des Weltraums herauf. Schnelle, sich wiederholende Sequenzen in den Holzbläsern stellen Partikel dar. Streicher, die wellenförmige Akkorde spielen, imitieren lange Wellen interstellarer Energie. Die Blechbläser werden zum Leuchtfeuer der Melodie, das über die Galaxie hinaus strahlt. In ähnlicher Weise erhalten die eher elektronischen Cues ein Gefühl von Erhabenheit durch schwere Synthesizerflächen, die kryptische, sich wiederholende Muster und ungewöhnliche perkussive Schläge untermauern.

Aeralie Brighton (DEATHLOOP, Ori-Serie) ist auf dem Soundtrack als Sängerin zu hören.

Bethesda Game Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die Musik von 'Starfield' auf Deluxe-Vinyl zu bringen.

In allen Titeln der Bethesda Game Studios ist die Musik ein wesentlicher Bestandteil der Reise des Spielers und ein ständiger Begleiter während seines Abenteuers. Die langjährige Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem Komponisten Inon Zur und dem Studio begann bereits 2008 mit der Veröffentlichung von Fallout 3. Die Musik zu 'Starfield' sollte sowohl die Weite des Weltraums als auch die Neugier der Menschen auf das Unbekannte zum Ausdruck bringen. So verwob Zur traditionelle und nicht-traditionelle orchestrale und elektronische Klänge zu einem Klangteppich aus Organischem und Synthetischem.

Während der Entwicklung hat das Team ein eklektisches Spektrum an Referenzpunkten durchlaufen: Es begann bei den Sci-Fi-Grundsäulen von John Williams und Jerry Goldsmith, durchquerte einen klassischen Nebel von Debussy, Ravel und Prokofiev, flog an Vangelis' überragendem Synthesizerwerk vorbei und warf einen Blick auf die experimentellen Arbeiten der Einstürzenden Neubauten und von John Cage.

In den Orchesterstücken von Starfield, die vom Budapester Filmorchester eingespielt wurden, beschwören verschiedene Instrumentalgruppen oft imaginäre Aspekte des Weltraums herauf. Schnelle, sich wiederholende Sequenzen in den Holzbläsern stellen Partikel dar. Streicher, die wellenförmige Akkorde spielen, imitieren lange Wellen interstellarer Energie. Die Blechbläser werden zum Leuchtfeuer der Melodie, das über die Galaxie hinaus strahlt. In ähnlicher Weise erhalten die eher elektronischen Cues ein Gefühl von Erhabenheit durch schwere Synthesizerflächen, die kryptische, sich wiederholende Muster und ungewöhnliche perkussive Schläge untermauern.

Aeralie Brighton (DEATHLOOP, Ori-Serie) ist auf dem Soundtrack als Sängerin zu hören.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bells Are Ringing is the debut EP by Melbourne Funk 10 piece outfit Mondo Freaks, released following on from the single of the same name and a thrilling Dub Version by Harvey Sutherland.

Mondo Freaks formed originally as a concept band, equipped with an ever-evolving setlist of late '70s and early '80s Funk classics, their journey has seen them invited to be the backing band for the Australian tours of such luminaries as Leroy Burgess (the producer and artist behind Boogie and Disco favourites Black Ivory, Logg, Aleem, Inner Life, and Universal Robot Band) and the iconic Evelyn "Champagne" King. Having performed at the iconic local Meredith Music, Golden Plains and Panama festivals and at numerous residencies Mondo Freaks have carved their mark, returning now to ring in a new era of groove-soaked original music.

The band revolves around the rhythm section of in demand session bassist Luke Hodgson and drummer Graeme Pogson (GL, The Bamboos). Gathering some of the finest musicians from Melbourne's legendary Soul scene, they're accompanied by five incredible vocalists including Jade McRae, Susie Goble, Francisco Tavares, Aaron Mendoza and Jason Heerah.

New tracks on the EP include "Find A Way", which hits straight away with a percussion and synth hook, blending Jade McCrae's vocal delivery with an uplifting message about finding hope in trying times.

Also included is the Harvey Sutherland Vocal Mix of "Bells Are Ringing", which keeps much of the spaced out Larry Levan, Shep Pettibone re-edit approach that was on his much lauded Dub Version.

It's easy to see why his remix skills have been in demand and utilised by Disclosure, Khruangbin, BadBadNotGood, Tycho, Boston Bun, Lucius, Jungle Giants, Genesis Owusu and Franc Moody. On his own releases Sutherland has collaborated with the likes of DāM FunK and Nubya Garcia.Tightening its hold on the dancefloor, the beefed-up rhythm section rolls deep into the nocturnal hours, as mesmerising reverb loops elevate the track skywards.

Luke and Graeme got to know Harvey Sutherland when they played together backing Leroy Burgesson his Australian tour in 2018. After that Luke and Graeme played in Harvey's live band across the world and then contributed his 'BOY' album. "We were thrilled when he turned in his Dub of "Bells"", Luke said. "A kind of 'what would Shep Pettibone or Larry Levan do?' moment. It's like being transported to Compass Point Studios in '81!"

Mondo Freaks make Funk inspired by late '70s / early '80s era as it gently moved beyond Disco. That era has continued to inspire many artists, but what sets Mondo Freaks apart is their live instrumentation plus a focus on vocals and great songwriting, creating something beyond simply instrumental grooves.In the studio and in their full live lineup Mondo Freaks are a formidable ensemble who take their sound beyond mere homage, without a hint of irony or any knowing winks. Mondo Freaks simply breathe life into a timeless sound and make it feel more relevant than ever.

Some record crates deserve a sub-category called 'play it again, Sam'. tracks that spin on the turntables without a push. Funk Kraut, Zombie Zombie's second LP on Born Bad, is of this kind. This well-proportioned classic is a fine example of the style the trio has been embodying: instrumental for synths and drums music played live. This time it was a quick affair, recorded by Laurent Deboisgisson in the studio of Cheveu's singer. A pretty straightforward job, and a far cry from their previous concept album. Let us praise Krikor Kouchian's mix: drums have been resampled with some restraint, and that Linn Drum kick lightens up the overall mix. It marks a notable evolution in the band's sound, and adds some dynamic. The album kicks off with 'No cruise control', a big bad sedan that effortlessly eats up the distance at 120 BPM. Kraut as can be, with a twist. And as far as funk goes, it's not Bootsy Collins, but there's a whiff. Space is structured by synth patterns, for optimized drumming : forward, straight and fluid, top-notch suspension (Cosmic Neman / Dr Scho?nberg take care of business on drums). They treat themselves to a diversion via Darmstadt to take some musique concrete on board : mechanical birds chirp, the odd atonal piano here and there. Nerds will appreciate liner notes detailing the equipment used : about twenty synths and they still describe it as minimal. With 'Densite?', we've just passed a polyphonic milestone: outright chords ! Long, suspended pads, pierced only by fat claps. Clapping hands are not far off. The band shows it has mastered concise pop formats. That same vibe can be found in 'Jungle the Jungle', paradoxical tune, catchy and moody at once. You'll get some brass riffs in 'Helix', which takes off on a synth moving from one speaker to another to herald the crash of syncopated drums to come.Zombie Zombie sounds ready to write themes for niche TV series.'Aurillac Accident' documents a haphazard soundcheck which, once in the studio, became a bitter ballad, breaking apart into dubby gravy. Live with two drummers performing, this aspect showcases in 'Snare Attack' and 'Double Z', with its jogging hi-hats and creepy little toy piano motifs. Cardio levels are high on 'Dodorian', perfect track for depraved spinning classes, with its moving filter, disco arpeggios and flashes of synthetic brass. 'Magnavox Odyssey', a nostalgic but bouncy synth lasagna, brings this album to a majestic close. The cover by Dddixie sets the tone with its 'Motorik Vibes & Stereo Grooves' sticker. Motorik, absolutely, it's autobahn time for 45 minutes. And when it comes to stereo grooving, the acoustic image is as wide as the canyons of Mars. DO NOT MISS THIS ALBUM (or the previous Vae Vobis)!

Celebrating 40th anniversary of Yves Deruyter's musical career with this 10 x 12" Vinyl Box Set. Including tracks from F.U.S.E. vs LFO, Tronikhouse, Robert Armani, L.S.G., Edge Of Motion, Plastikman, The Prodigy, Ecstasy Club, and the master himselfYves Deruyter.



Yves Deruyter - 40 Years at the Pinnacle of the Night

Forty years. A rollercoaster of a musical career, meandering through five decades, leaving timeless marks on the collective dancefloor memory. Yves Deruyter is the exception that proves the rule. An icon behind the decks, celebrated far beyond national borders for his legendary sets, impeccable musical choices, and the anthems released under his name. The result of collective effort, where Yves, with his vision and unique touch, consistently left his mark-transforming good tracks into inescapable bombs that still resonate through time.

If you've spent forty years living to the pulse of music, the night is in your DNA. Yves Deruyter, a DJ to the core-the real deal. The man who bent the night to his will, dragging weekend vibes into the workweek like a warrior, a true master behind the turntables who made his people dance. His beats: the oxygen that generations lived on.

Yves sharpened his musical weapons in the early '90s within the iconic afterparty scene of Barocci and The Globe-places that became sanctuaries in Belgium's endless night. Here, die-hard dancefloor warriors, cutting-edge music lovers, and night owls from the four corners of the globe gathered. They willingly followed Yves' masterful mixing and his razor-sharp set construction. Clubs with a more conventional timeframe were the next step, with the iconic Cherrymoon as his home base for years-alongside endless guest DJ spots and global gigs. From there, the underground pulsed through Yves' hands and crates, reaching ever-larger crowds-without ever compromising for commercial or crossover sounds. Yves stayed true to his choices, lifting his audience to euphoric heights like a craftsman, armed with his hits, hidden gems, and freshly unearthed nuggets.

From the pounding energy of Rave City to the flippy, epic flashes of Calling Earth-tracks that not only captured the spirit of the times but conquered dancefloors worldwide. This isn't just music; it's a time capsule-a connection between generations and a reminder of the energy from a golden era.

With musical partners like Roel Butzen, Frederico Santini, M.I.K.E. Push, and more recently, Insider, Yves forged a sound that etched its place into rave and dance history. From The Rebel to The House of House, parts of Yves' musical taste have become immortal pillars of dance music heritage. In the early rave days, he topped Belgium's DJ rankings year after year, elevating every club he played to the highest echelons of popularity. The same held true for the records where his name appeared like a badge of honor.

From The Globe to the globe itself-it seemed almost written in the stars. Yves, thestar DJ, became one of the instigators of the electronic music storm that put Belgium on the global map-a storm that never subsided. Festivals like Love Parade, Mayday, I Love Techno, Nature One, and Tomorrowland saw Yves as a trusted force, effortlessly commanding crowds and turning dancefloors inside out. Forty years later, that storm still ignites partygoers, vibrates through dancefloors, and keeps entire generations moving.

Even today, Yves still holds a steady residency with Yves Deruyter and Friends at Club Moustache, where his concept always sells out. Here, both fresh talent and seasoned DJs deliver a killer blend of modern electronic dance music and timeless classics, creating an atmosphere that hooks the crowd every single time.

Because partying doesn't need an excuse. But forty years? That deserves the spotlight-not as a mere milestone, but as a showcase of timelessness. Music mutates, reinvents itself for new generations, yet retains the same impact as that very first time. Yves proves that forty is just a number, and relevance isn't about trends-it's about vision, energy, and an unmistakable touch. His sets? Indestructible. His sound? A heartbeat echoing through time.

And Yves? He doesn't live in the past. Today, Yves distills those four decades into a compilation capturing the essence of his career. Belgian beats, interpreted and refined into a sound that powered raves around the world. Ten vinyls featuring not just a fiercely curated selection that contextualizes the magic of his early days, but also new versions of three unbeatable anthems-potent hits designed to turn dancefloors upside down in wonder, without losing a shred of their soul. Yves remains a beacon in the night, a searchlight for that one perfect beat-always relevant, always chasing that magical moment.

Yves Deruyter-a name spoken in the same breath as the greats of the scene. A ten-vinyl compilation is more than a celebration; it's a well-earned trophy. As unique, indestructible, and uncompromising as the man himself.

Originally released in 1971, produced by the legendary Sandy Roberton and featuring the likes of Richard & Danny Thompson, Keith Christmas and members of Mighty Baby & Fotheringay, the album has been talked about in glowing terms by an ever increasing fanbase over the years & is highly sought after. It’s a beautiful mixture of folk, psychedelic flourishes and adventurous production combining majestically with Shelagh’s exquisite songwriting and purity of voice. It will immediately appeal to fans of Pentangle, Incredible String Band and Joni Mitchell, as well as the solo records from members of some of the biggest U.S. bands of the 1970s; David Crosby’s ‘If Only I Could remember My Name’ and Gene Clark’s ‘No Other’, and is presented here for the first time ever on vinyl re-issue.

Born in Edinburgh in 1948 before moving to Glasgow and attending the Glasgow School of Art, Shelagh McDonald’s reputation grew rapidly on the London and Bristol folk circuit, gaining a cult following. In her early twenties she cut her first album titled simply ‘Shelagh McDonald’, the following year entering the studio with producer Sandy Roberton (Ian Matthews, John Martyn, Chocolate Watch Band, Steeleye Span) to cut ‘Stargazer’. Unfortunately for Shelagh, following a bad LSD experience, she withdrew from not only the music industry but public life shortly before commencing work on her third album.

However, it is ‘Stargazer’ that continues to grow its reputation, with original copies changing hands for hundreds of pounds.

Imbued with the finest instrumentation and vocal delicacy in late ‘60s folk, the record is heightened by a progressive production approach; the slow organ grooviness in the traditional ‘Dowie Dens of Yarrow’, uplifting gospel overtones of ‘Odyssey’ and the perfect match of melancholic piano and haunting strings by Robert Kirby on the title track. These sublime arrangements all serve Shelagh’s songwriting and soulful voice that invoke the finest folk traditions but at the same time look forward.

The album is the inaugural release on new label Different Strokes For Different Folks with more genre bending, rare and cult records scheduled for 2025.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Divergence and Declaration is the second album by San Francisco Bay Area Darkwave duo Vague Lanes. The album features their signature two-bass configuration, with Mike Cadoo (Gridlock) handling the melodic six-string duties. At the same time, Badger McInnes (Here We Burn) propels the music forward with his low-end four-string.
The album opener, "Heptahedron", also features drums by Martin Atkins (P.I.L., Ministry, Killing Joke). The album's title eludes to the refinement and solidification of Vague Lane's manifesto, and by utilizing a more expanded pallet than their debut album Foundation and Divergence, the duo displays confidence in their creative trajectory and the overall substance of their musical voice.

The complete album + 4 bonus tracks - pressed on limited edition 180g virgin vinyl

Baden Powell de Aquino, better known simply as Baden Powell (1937 - 2000), was one
of the most prominent and celebrated Brazilian guitarists and guitar composers of his
time. He combined classical techniques with popular harmony and swing, and
performed in many styles including bossa nova, samba, Brazilian jazz, Latin jazz, and
Brazilian popular music.
This release presents his second album as a leader, 'Um violao na madrugada',to which
four 1959 tracks have been added as a bonus, including a version of Powell's
composition "Consolacao" performed with American flutist Herbie Mann.

Bárbara Salazar aka Barbarelle is an experimental multidisciplinary artist from Buenos Aires, known for her conceptual work as a DJ, creative director, and curator.

‘Celesta’ marks Barbarelle first foray into composing and producing her own music; a debut that reveals the intimate, heartfelt territories of her creative universe. The culmination of years of composing for herself - ‘behind closed doors’ - ‘Celesta’ is a deeply personal, self-guided masterstroke of beguiling, free-flowing ambient soundscapes and DIY electronics. With ‘Celesta’, Barbarelle artfully transitions from ardent music aficionado to fully-fledged artist, unveiling an enchanting sonic world that has quietly matured over time.

‘Celesta’ is an exquisite odyssey of sound, assembled from fifteen tracks recorded between 2022 and 2024 in Buenos Aires and Los Angeles. Conceived as spontaneous and intuitive explorations, many of these tracks were recorded in one take without technically-minded premeditation. The product of organic experimentation rather than concrete intention, ‘Celesta’ is an authentic, candid record of emotions, memories, and profound interiorities.

Over time, the pieces in this tapestry found a common thread: a conversation with the ethereal, defined by emotional intensities and softly spoken utterances. ‘Celesta’ is an invitation to immerse yourself in soundscapes that merge to the point of dissolution, evoking the transparency of water and the lightness of a dreamlike world that transcends matter. Like the song of a siren, the voice becomes just another instrument, beyond language yet full of significance. A collection of songs that feels like opening a secret diary; a direct pathway to the centre of the heart.

In addition to her work as an artist, Barbarelle is the founder of Atlas, a platform dedicated to active listening through radio, live performances, listening sessions and more. She is also known for her radio show of the same name on Dublab, where she shares her unique approach to sound with eclectic selections and interviews with the likes of Air, BADBADNOTGOOD, Lucrecia Dalt, Juana Molina & more.

Eins, Zwei, Drei, ... Iti Eta No. Hier nun das kommende und mit Spannung erwartete neue Heimat-Album! Eingehüllt in das erstaunliche und faszinierende Coverartwork der gefeierten Illustratorin Anouk Ricard, gibt es hier eine handvoll schwer zu klassifizierender Deviant-Pop-Songs von den Olivier Demeaux (Cheveu, Accident du Travail) und Armelle Oberlé (The Dreams, Badaboom). Manchmal sehr martialisch wie Marschmusik, manchmal sehr lyrisch und sanft, tauchen die Klänge von Heimat tiefer in diese verrückten Landschaften ein, indem sie kinematografische Partituren und Samples über Schichten urbaner Kulturen legen und so die Tore der verträumten Blicke und der schattenhaften Geschichten zu öffnen. Das gut produzierte und lesbare, überraschende und explosive Material ist ein echtes Art Brut-Manifest der collagierten Musik. Heißen wir dieses seltsame Paradies willkommen.