Buscar:bare

LTD. CLEAR PINK VINYL

Barely disco and hardly jazz, Rupa Biswas’ music the halfway point between Bollywood and Balearic. Tracked in 1982 at Calgary’s Living Room Studios with a crack team of Indian and Canadian studio rats alike, both “Moja Bhari Moja” and “East West Shuffle” are the perfect fusion sarod and synthesizer. Remastered from original analogue source material and with permission and blessing of the producers and performers.

Jon K and Elle Andrews’ MAL imprint returns with a new LP from one of the London experimental underground's best kept secrets, Rory Salter aka Malvern Brume. His music is rare, eccentric and mysterious - somewhere between Coil's bleak ritual magick and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop's most experimental, minimal fringes. 

Malvern Brume operates just beneath the radar, occasionally turning up at Café OTO lineups and on a smattering of releases for Low Company, Alter, Infant Tree and Kasual Plastik - but he’s never one to shout too loudly about his work. ‘Body Traffic’ is his most interesting set to date, laying bare a process melting found sounds, field recordings and spoken word into throbbing, pulsing rhythms. It’s an evocation of a fraught mindset during the early weeks of lockdown in 2020; sequestered in his flat next to a trainline, the infrasonic - and more audible - rumbles of rolling stock and a nagging sense of dread infecting his ambiguously discomfiting recordings.

Operating in a headspace that values world-building and vivid, visual emotionality, Salter’s careful melodies are familiar - the distant, weeping melancholia of 1970s British TV hangs off the recordings like net curtains, and his atmosphere loops into experiments that weave through bare traces of industrial music, blank-faced electro pop, and hedonistic Brummie techno, all reduced to a cinder. 

The mood is set on the bellyaching resonance and crawling walls of the title tune, while 'Through Beaked Fog Horns' is drowned beneath morning mists: lopsided synth drones choke and drift, percussion mutates into inebriated bubbles, and tape-f*cked environmental whirrs create an atmosphere that’s hard to decipher in one take. 

‘Moss Spines Clenched’ follows cryptic stains on peeling flocking, and the icy creep of ‘Tense Branches Waver’ quivers beyond a cracked windowpane. The artist’s voice appears from beneath a cardboard box fort in the imaginary world of ‘Cornered Into Sleat’ as a distant drum beats out a marching thud and traffic squeals are sculpted into chirpy whistles, before ‘Bri Dun’ resolves the eerie tension in an OOBE-like ascent above the dado-rail and across the tracks, watching himself fade into a dissociative bliss.

"All chatter falls quiet…” Salter murmurs thru saturation and white noise. It’s a sound that’s gonna stick with us for a while.

Deniz Cuylan set out to explore his own distinctive sound on his 2021 solo debut album 'No Such Thing As Free Will.' The album signaled the Turkish musician's first bold step into the spotlight following a winding 15-year path in the music industry playing in multiple bands with home bases dotted all over the globe - Stockholm, NYC, Istanbul - and tackling a wide array of styles both on the stage and in the studio. Now settled into his current home in Los Angeles, Deniz lends his instrumental talents to create scores for independent films and recurring Netflix original series, yet these projects inevitably fulfill the sonic backdrop for another artist's vision. Looking inward on his own for the first time, 'No Such Thing As Free Will' laid the groundwork for his own personal soundtrack, one that fused his love of classical guitar, introspective jazz, and ambient expressionism with his whimsical compositional ear. Over a magical 6-track journey, 'No Such Thing As Free Will' painted a lush cinematic narrative with Deniz's guitar as its guide, delivering an album that "seems to invent new languages for the guitar" (The Guardian) and receiving glowing comparisons to legends like Steve Reich, The Durutti Colum's Vini Reilly, Glenn Branca, and Bert Jansch. With such a singular foundation exposed on a debut album, many artists would stay true to their inventive winning formula and find out if lightning could strike twice. Deniz is not one of those artists. An explorer at heart, Deniz unveils a beautifully alluring and lightly adjusted language on his mesmerizing second album 'Rings Of Juniper.' The record continues to spotlight Deniz's exquisite guitar work and hypnotic compositional skills, yet it boasts a punchier, refined, and more immediate tone right from the start. Accented by a desire to once again uncover a new shade of his sonic palette with the support of a talented cast of friends and artistic collaborators, 'Rings Of Juniper' lays bare a rich, dynamic, and evocative sound that Deniz lovingly refers to as Mediterranean Minimalism.

"Meat. The story needs meat. (And blood ... coagulated blood (Gore)). The substance we are seeking here lies beyond the bare bones of fact, thewhen and the where (founded in 1988, Mülheim an der Ruhr) or personneland instruments (a trio since 2016, built around keyboards, saxophone, bass & drums). The story is more than the sum of its facts. Mysteries may very well lurk here or there along the way. What keeps the final two foundermembers going after all this time Do Morten Gass and Robin Rodenberg have skeletons locked in their closets How dearly we would we love to know the answer to that one, alas the most beautiful puzzles tend to remain unsolved.Including their debut Gore Motel' (1994), BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE have amassed an impressive eight longplayers. Four album titles allude to the night - their debut was followed by Midnight Radio' (1995), Sunset Mission' (2000), and Black Earth' (2002), whilst the most recent instalment carried the name Piano Nights' (2014). The nocturnal quartet was punctuated by Geisterfaust' (2005), Dolores' (2008) and a mini-album entitled Beileid' (2011), adding rather eerie overtones to the after hours ambience. The BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE legend has grown stronger both at home and abroad with every record they have released and every show they have played. Strange as it may seem, there is a uniform consistency to their reception. Whatever the band does, critiques are unfailingly positive, yet repetitious. References, links and associations recur almost word for word. Consider the arrival of Christoph Clöser in 1997, by way of illustration. When he joined the group, his saxophone replaced the departing Reiner Henseleit's guitar as one of the defining instruments in the band. This was arguably the sharpest break in their sound to this day and a significant marker in terms of the band's reverence for Dutch instrumentalists GORE (the clue is in the name), whose repetitive riffs paved the way for how the guitar would be deployed in a post-everything future. Nevertheless, this fissure in the BOHREN continuum has barely merits a mention in the greater scheme of things. Similarly conspicious by their absence in the BOHREN chronicles are the numerous instruments which they added to the mix - vibraphone, organ, tuba, bass trombone to name just a few. The introduction of choirs at least had a clear visual impact. Since Thorsten Benning left at the end of 2015, the band has continued as a trio, sharing shifts on the drums (although they have equipped themselves with mechanical brushes). A decrease in personnel was conversely accompanied by quantum leaps forward in the group's musical development - or more precisely, minor adjustments triggered major effects. Such changes may not get any easier to spot in the future, such is the intensity of internal imagery sparked by the music, a maelstrom of distractions so powerful that its promises are too sweet and too dangerous in equal measure. The music of BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE opens up remarkable rooms of association, from a warm burrow to a pristine secret lodge, from a
dusky woodland tavern to a smoky quayside dive. Individual and collective floods of images rush forth irresistibly. Loneliness is not at all problematic: empty multi-storey car parks, nighttime drives, remote bridges to nowhere. All in your mind. This is the temptation, a sweet, guilt-free addiction. It's all in your mind - and only there. These sinister crackling songs are invitations to secrete oneself in darkness. With track titles such as 'Maximum Black', 'Zombies Never Die' or 'Dandys Lungern Durch Die Nacht', the mind wanders inexorably into filmic spaces.
Echoing the masters of midnight cinema, stories evolve all by themselves. As the American Film Noir Foundation observed so smartly: 'the vivid co-mingling of lost innocence, doomed romanticism, hard-edged cynicism, desperate desire, and shadowy sexuality.' Their definition of Film Noir serves just as well as an appraisal of the group, 'Bohren For Beginners'.
Which says it all really, doesn't it A final word of warning! Sources close to the band describe the double CD
released in October 2016 as a gateway drug to the Bohren universe. Enter at your own risk, some have never found their way out again."(by Lars Brinkmann)

Barely disco and hardly jazz, Rupa Biswas’ music the halfway point between Bollywood and Balearic. Tracked in 1982 at Calgary’s Living Room Studios with a crack team of Indian and Canadian studio rats alike, both “Moja Bhari Moja” and “East West Shuffle” are the perfect fusion sarod and synthesizer. Remastered from original analogue source material and with permission and blessing of the producers and performers.

Lilies (Gothenburg, SE) starts a new vinyl series focused on techno made with the bare hands: Lilieskalla. On the first record, DJ Lily presents five all analog creations. The sequences are one-take live recordings, shaping a stripped down and slowly changing sound based on a Buchla 208c.

Soft Raw is a new label from Danielle – a natural extension of the Bristol-based DJ’s expansive tastes within contemporary club music. Over the past few years the NTS resident has become a leading light in the multifaceted world of modernist techno abstractions, ably balancing soundsystem pressure and propulsive rhythmic intensity with experimental textures and explorative energy variations. Soft Raw seeks to continue that mission with releases which will progress stylistically from one approach to another, taking in exciting, emergent producers unique in their approach but bound together by the idiosyncratic curation of Danielle – a faithful reflection of her proven skill as a selector.

The label launches with a six-track drop from Slacker. Sam Black has been winding up a potent strain of needlepoint techno which leans towards jungle and half-time D&B in its tempo and structure. Across a selection of various releases, Black’s sound has evolved into an accomplished and detailed style which draws on moody atmospheres and advanced engineering in the grand tradition of UK soundsystem music. Across this EP the Slacker sound matches up to the spirit of Soft Raw, balancing fierce kinetic energy with delicacy and finesse and leaving some space for outright ambience. At times he locks into a half-step warm-up mode, while elsewhere the amens creep in for a more pronounced jungle rinse-out.

It’s a strong opening statement for this new label, but crucially this doesn’t spell out the future in absolute terms. True to Danielle’s broad outlook, subsequent releases are set to take in everything from straight up 4/4 and acid to footwork and electro, with a narrative binding each release together according to her internal logic and the tension between soft and raw qualities explored across consistently cutting-edge tracks.

In hugo, there’s a central question that Loyle Carner keeps coming back to: “I’m young, Black, successful and have a platform - but where do I go next?” The answer is explored in this epic scream of a third album. With urgent delivery and gloriously widescreen production, Carner confronts both the deeply personal (“You can’t hate the roots of a tree, and not hate the tree. So how can I hate my father without hating me?) and the highly political (“I told the black man he didn’t understand I reached the white man he wouldn’t take my hand”). Cinematic in scale and scope, hugo is both a rallying war cry for a generation forged in fire and a study of the personal internal conflict that drives the rest of the album - as a mixed-race Black man, as an artist, as a father and as a son. With Mercury and Brits nominations, NME Awards and appearances in global brand campaigns (Nike, YSL, Timberland), Carner has undoubtedly had a meteoric rise to the top, culminating with his second album Not Waving, But Drowning charting at number 3 in the UK albums chart in 2019. However, hugo sees Carner taking a sharp detour from his previous work, putting it down to lockdown and the “hedonistic side of career being stripped away. There were no shows, no backstage, no festivals, no photoshoots”. By continuing to write in these tumultuous times with a renewed clarity and sense of artistic freedom, Carner reached deeper beneath the surface than he ever had before. The result is his most cathartic and ambitious record yet, a coruscating journey into the heart of what it means to be alive in these tumultuous times, and one which looks set to neatly cement his position as one of the most potent and vital young talents around today. Working alongside renowned producer kwes. (Solange, Kelela, Nao), Carner leaves no stone unturned on this album, in both its sound and its stories. In a 10-track album that moves from gorgeous neo-soul moments to thundering hip hop, with immediate, infectious bangers and sampled interludes from non musicians (mixed-race Guyanese poet John Agard and youth activist and politician Athian Akec) Carner shifts seamlessly from micro to macro, confronting everything from strained relationships with family to the societal tears caused by class stratification. It also lays bare bruises in his personal life that he has never revealed before – often in painful, deeply uncomfortable ways, focusing on Carner's experience of becoming a father in the context of growing up without contact with his biological father. With the song “Polyfilla”, against the backdrop of a warm melodic beat, Carner explores his desire to “break the chains in the cycle” of dysfunctional Black fatherhood, commenting on the narrative of fatherhood in the genre, and saying a key part of the process was realising that his father “grew up in a world where nobody showed him how to love or nurture”. The follow up track “A Lasting Place” is an exploration of the MC’s failure and inability to be perfect in this mission. The album closer is a powerful statement of love and forgiveness; with his signature lyrical dexterity, Carner declares his relentless commitment to his son and sees forgiving his father as a key part of this. The song closes with an emotional ending of Carner telling his dad “still I’m lucky yo that we talk”. There’s a striking duality of hugo’s bold, multilayered tracks and its often starkly intimate and tender lyricism, and that dichotomy is deliberate - it is a message for young Black men, but really, anyone, who is listening. Cognizant of the immense pain and fear and confusion that we are faced with everyday, Carner has thrown down the gauntlet, defying us not to rise above the fray, wake up each day and be ambitious. Ambitious in building strong personal relationships. Ambitious in our pursuit of our goals. Ambitious in never refusing to back down against injustice. Rejecting the title of leader, Loyle Carner sees himself “as holding up a mirror”, and that clearly translates into the album's universal messages.

LTD. RED VINY

Guitar and bass duo Gong Gong Gong charge out from Beijing's underground scene with a distinct vision and uncompromising sense of purpose. The duo taps into a wavelength uniting musical cultures, drawing on inspirations as wide-ranging as Bo Diddley, Cantonese opera, West African desert blues, drone, and electronic music.

Despite the band's decision to eschew traditional rock percussion, on their debut LP Phantom Rythm, the locomotive chug of Tom Ng's guitar combines with Joshua Frank's thumping, harmonics-laden basslines to conjure an aura of ghostly snare hits and timpani overtones. Over Frank's enigmatic melodies, Ng sings in Cantonese, piecing together abstract tales of absurdity, doubt, desire, and lust. Synchronized to the point of near-telephathy, "the Gongs" use their minimalistic tools and idiosyncratic playing style to challenge the notions of rock n' roll and strip the form down to its bare essentials: rhythm, melody, and grit.

His debut was recorded in the winter of 2003 with assistance from Texas
chamber pop collective The Earlies, followed by three albums of original material
and one all-covers album. In 2011, a near-fatal car crash paralyzed his arms for
months. He spent his recovery time listening to some demos he'd made before
the crash. The material eventually culminated in the darkest and most intensely
personal collection of songs from him thus far and garnered widespread critical
acclaim. (Micah P. Hinson & The Nothing). Since then, each record is a final
confrontation with himself, each song shakes with danger. I Lie To You, the new
Micah P. Hinson album, comes from five days and five nights of recording in
Irpinia, South Italy, with production by Alessandro Asso Stefana (PJ Harvey, Mike
Patton, Vinicio Capossela). Accompanying Micah and Asso are Raffaele Tiseo's
celestial strings, Zeno De Rossi metaphysic drumming and the double bass
gentleman Greg Cohen. On this new album he sings, with his weathered, husky,
prophet-like voice, eleven tales of love, loss and regret, which once again reveal
his heart as an artist laid bare.

Originally released in 2014, “Instruction Booklet N. 1232” marks the first cassette release on Dauw for Tatersall under his The Humble Bee moniker. Taking advantage of the format, each side on “Instruction Booklet N. 1232” is reserved for a single piece nearing the 20-minute mark.

“Exploding View” (aka Side A) swells into existence with a very grand sounding synth-driven melody. Of course the other thing that’s present is the decaying sound of the tape loop that’s working to bring that music to life. At first, the melody grows and grows, fairly undisturbed, but eventually the sound of so-much tape warble threatens the rising nature of the piece until it sounds as though it is one loop away from total decay and simply fluttering out of existence.

But of course that’s the point. There’s a tension between that grand melody that opens these moments and that warble. It’s a lesson in opposites: the mechanics of a tape loop, guaranteed to break down, placed in contrast with those signature Tatersall melodies, which somehow seem eternal. And just as that tension seems too much to bear — the melody dies to be replaced by something altogether new. What comes next is something much quieter, driven by a sub-aquatic bassline, some rhythmic tape hiss and some gentle piano.

It’s a very dramatic and sudden break. The technical elements of that could be attributed to Tattersall’s understanding of how far a melody can be pushed before it succumbs to the abuse of being processed out of existence — perhaps the tape had been looped and processed to its breaking point. Regardless of whether it was a technical or artistic choice, that hard break serves an important narrative function. Frequently in instrumental music, musicians play with opposites (quiet-loud, clean-distorted) to create a narrative to their work since they don’t have words/lyrics as a tool. In the case of The Humble Bee’s use of tape loops, one set of opposites in tension is always driven by the fragility of the melodies and the limitations of a machine guaranteed to inevitably decay the media it is designed to support. And where one thrives, the other takes a backseat. As side A winds down, the melodies are much more sparse — appropriate for en ending, yes; but it also gives more space for those hisses and crackles to claim their moment.

Side B is filled out by “Manual with Foot Pedal” and it begins as gently as its predecessor ended. Slowly eking outing it existence – it’s as if watching Tatersall set the board, showing his players on opposite sides of the table before really setting them in motion to do their thing. By the piece’s midpoint, melody has taken centre stage as a glitchy, piano-led rhythm marches its way forward, clearly carving out its space and claiming its territory. And almost immediately following that: the decay takes over again and those tape loops seem processed to near death — the melody almost barely decipherable as it flutters under the weight of the history of being looped/played ad nauseum. And in the very final moments, the melodies are sparse again, giving the tape hiss room to play its part — it’s as if Tatersall is giving both players enough space to take their final bows.

Brian Fennell is a student of simplicity

As SYML (pronounced simmel), which translates to simple in Welsh, Fennell writes emotive ambient pop songs that capture the ethos of his musical persona.

With delicate piano, swells of strings and Fennells sterling vocals, the songs that comprise In My Body, embody the relinquishing of all emotions, a cathartic release laid bare.

With a keen grasp on textural and emotive songwriting, SYML aka Brian
Fennell combines bare piano, minimalist synth and string-scapes, and
ethereal vocals to create his music
Adopted and not knowing his history or connection to his Welsh roots, many of
these songs are influenced by the complex feelings that come from unknown
lineage.

Y Bülbül is back on the controls accompanied by Yumurta, a percussionist from Istanbul. Pingipung introduced the London based artist in 2020 with his psychedelic, synth-laden debut “Fever”.

“Not One, Not Two” is based on a one-way transmission of improvised drum recordings from an industrial estate in Maslak, Istanbul to another one in Tottenham, London, where Y Bülbül laid down fragmented layers of bass, synths, guitars and field recordings over Yumurta’s singular drum takes. The result is a free-form deep listening album for fans of dub, ambient and kosmische music, where the groove and harmonies are mystically interwoven, yet somehow manage to stay on the brink of collapse. Although the sessions were non concurrent and scattered over two continents, the collaboration evokes scenes of a telepathic communion where individual perspectives, circumstances and stories are exchanged between the two.

Resembling Moondog, Holy Tongue or Luis Paniagua in the sense that they favor the raw over the polished, holistic presence over conceptual perfection and questions over answers, the duo’s focus on bare sounds and repetition guides the listener throughout the album. The ride cymbal opening the minimalistic “I’m This”, for instance, briskly disarms the listener who might have been looking for more traditional songwriting or production clues. There are plenty of immediately rewarding moments too in “Not One, Not Two,” like the organic acid bassline in “Maurin Quina”, the euphoric drum fills of “Big K” and the intoxicating groove of the hypnotic vibe-setter “Jah Oto”.

Bülbül is Turkish for a singing bird while Yumurta simply means egg. Which one is first? Who is to follow? It’s this enigmatic entanglement between the two artists which creates the lurking tension, emphasized by the Zen Kōan-like title. The beauty in this album is a peculiar one, and it certainly is a rabbit hole too. Dissonance is fluid as everything moves, and whenever two sounds collide, a third one emerges.

Formed approximately three years ago, before the world changed (temporarily?), Odd Men Out are something of a garage-psych international super-group, with members originally hailing from Italy, Spain and the UK, brought together in the sprawling megalopolis of London in the sticky heat of summer 2019. Lois (drums) and Alessandro (guitar, organ, vocals) had already been playing together in legendary freakbeat trio The Embrooks since '96 (with a 10-year hiatus between 2005 and '15), while bassman Bruno had served time with moody-psych-turned-spiky-British-Beat exponents The Liquorice Experiment and Looking Glass Alice. The untried 'x' factor in this equation is frontman, guitarist, songwriter Nicolino whose love of moody 12-string folk rock and florid psychedelia shapes the overall sound of the band. Late in 2019, the quartet gathered at North Down Sound Studios in south east Kent to record the material presented here. Engineer and State Records mogul Mole was at the controls, manipulating the analogue 8-track recorder to capture the best and most exciting vibes they could offer, in a swirling sea of reverb and audio compression. Tracked predominantly live with a bare minimum of overdubs, this is classic 60s-inspired garage-psych, with elements of The Lemon Drops, Basement Wall and The Baroques to name but a few, yet the four never let their influences get in the way of producing quality original material. The pandemic caused many cancellations and postponements, but Dirty Water Records and Odd Men Out are finally ready to unleash this almighty beast!

Track list:
1. Summer 2. Magic Fudge 3. Mary B 4. Can’t Get Over 5. Big Worries (Big Troubles) 6. Look At Her 7. No 8. Knock On My Door

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

MATTERS UNKNOWN is the new project led by multi-instrumentalist and
composer Jonny Enser.We Aren't Just is the debut album from MATTERS
UNKNOWN – Jonny Enser from Nubiyan Twist's solo project
Over 14 tracks, it travels through Afro- jazz, celestial blues, soulful funk,
electronica, hip hop referencing influences such as Mulatu Astatke, Pat Thomas
and Tony Allen all of whom he has worked with via Nubiyan Twist.This album
features some of the UK's finest young players including members of Nerija, Noya
Rao, Golden Mean and COLECTIVA. For fans ofJazz is Dead and Emma- Jean
Thackray. Every track on the album is inspired by a facet of Jonny's personal
development; drawing from his relationship to the city, whether in the delta
regions of the Mississippi river or along London's arterial Thames. The album is a
material testament to the flexibility inherent to MATTERS UNKNOWN; it can be
orchestrated to accommodate a 15-strong orchestra, replete with a string section
to move you to the dancefloor as Jazz originally intended, or stripped down to the
bare bones of a trumpet and tuba- led quartet whose intentions remain all the
same; to pierce into the audience's soul.
Jonny is honest, often laying bare his personal plights with his physical disability
and mental health, and the steep – yet rewarding – uphill climb as a musician and
Jazz instrumentalist. We Aren't Just is a multi- faceted study of the self, one's
relationship with the external world; the material, and the living within the inert.

Drummer and composer Edward Vesala, the most internationally renowned jazz musician from Finland, was very keen on percussion instruments. Oddly enough, this broad and enduring interest is hardly evident on his albums. Whether playing on his own albums or contributing to other musicians’ work, Vesala played a standard drum kit most of the time. He hardly used external percussionists on his own albums either. And most of all: his music was almost never percussive, at least in the traditional manner. Perhaps even stranger is the fact that he barely played any drum solos on his own albums. That’s why I’m Here (Blue Master Special, SPEL 311, 1974), recorded in Helsinki in 1973, is such a rarity. Of course, being a limited release has also made it an expensive treasure among collectors. Additionally, I’m Here is Vesala’s only solo album and only percussive album, and one of the few where he can be said to play drum solos, albeit in his own idiosyncratic way..