Cerca:basic rhythm no end

The music on this EP was conceived in China, between 1989 and 1993. The original tracks were mixed to DAT in real time, in a small neighbour-proof studio inside my apartment in Macau, a 19th floor with a view to the hurricanes. There's a small, unexpected or improbable story behind each track, some little magic fused with the local atmosphere, certainly guaranteeing their lasting authenticity 25 years later.

TAIPEI DISCO
Late 80s Guangzhou was an exotic city where the traditional past coexisted in harmony with the present and even already with the future.
I'd rather spend my weekends in Guangzhou than diving into Hong Kong consumerism - as most ex-pats in Macau did. I took a cab at the border and travelled 150 Km through chaotic roads with family and friends until reaching the hot, humid, mega South China metropolis.
We ate on street joints in the evenings, went on to a karaoke bar and ended up at Taipei Disco, the only proper club in town. All the others were inside hotels and played generic music or they were seedy, sleazy, smoky cabarets.
Taipei Disco used to be a cinema and played cantonese pop music and anglo-saxon pop/rock (that was new). The spacious dance floor was generously lighted, the atmosphere was airy and modern. Boys and girls were in the habit of dancing in pairs, one in front of the other, observing a respectful yet sensual distance. When the girl took a few steps back, the boy went along and vice versa. With legs and feet (more than the upper bodies) synchronized with the music, they never exceeded in extroversion. Cool.
I always carried a MicroComposer and a portable DAT recorder in my travels through China and weekends in Canton. Any spontaneous musical idea was imediately recorded and memorized. The MicroComposer allowed multitrack recording, which was very handy on the road. Based on the emphatic choreography of Taipei Disco's dancers, i started to compose a rhythm track while sitting at a table, with headphones, listening to Cantopop in the background. As if by magic - not a rare occasion in music - everything began fitting together. Odd as it may seem, the track ended up sounding more germanic (Kraftwerkian) than Cantonese pop.

The story ends in a circle: the cantonese DJ at Taipei Disco, whom i used to ask to play certain records, wanted to play my music at the disco when it was basically only just a rhythm track and little else. From a cupboard under his set up he took out a battered keyboard (unrecognizable brand) and invited me to play over the track with the available sounds on the keyboard. The circle was complete, with Cantonese clubbers happily dancing forwards and backwards, as if it were another Cantopop hit.
I didn't get payed but the house offered us free ice cream cups in which little Portuguese flags were sticked.
The track would be finished later, in studio, with vocoder strings ensemble and synth solos.

TAIPEI DISCO (LIVE)
The live version of 'Taipei Disco' was recorded during a live set at the China Pop venue, in Macau, 1993. China Pop was a rock club built in the ample space of an old fishing warehouse, located in the labyrinthic Inner Harbour area. It was decorated with large Mao Zedong and Cultural Revolution posters and memorabilia and had a unique atmosphere, fusing Pop Art with film noir. We began our performance at 1AM, pretty early for Macau's nightlife standards. We were lucky. An audience showed up. And in Macau there were always several friends among the audience, which tranformed a musical performance into a relaxed party.
The atmosphere was particularly surreal on that night. The front row was dominated by French Crazy Horse dancers, a sort of Oriental Moulin Rouge. The girls had finished their last performance of the evening at the Crazy Horse and were still energized from their show. During our performance, right in front of us and perfectly synched, we could hear the famous irreverent screams of can-can dancers. You always had to expect the unexpected in Macau.

RED MAMBO (IMPROMPTU)
I was familiar with the Portuguese-speaking African countries well before having lived in China. I found myself returning several times to one in particular, always attracted by its magic and very distinct, identitary culture and music: Cape Verde.
During the early years of DWART a lot of the inspiration for drum machine rhythms (Roland's TR series) came from African music, especially from new musical trends that gained full autonomy with Cape Verde's independence from Portugal, as was the case with funaná.
I had the privilege of having known and befriended some of the greatest Capeverdian composers, musicians and singers during the 70s and 80s, such as Bana, Luís Morais, Cesária Évora, Paulino Vieira, Chico Serra, Tito Paris, and historical bands such as Bulimundo (ambassadors of funaná) and Os Tubarões (great innovators of morna, coladera and funaná, with the sonic impact of an afro-beat big band).
When Luís Filipe de Barros began playing Os Tubarões for the first time on Portuguese radio, that was the turning point for African music in Portugal. The 'Tabanca' album was so widely heard and talked about that it quickly got a Portuguese release through one of the big labels of the time.
The mystic of this band from the Santiago Island would reach the East. Os Tubarões played to a packed room in Macau in 1992, and after the bombastic gig we arranged a dinner and party at my place.
We ate and drank generously and the moment came for a jam session at the small studio on the 19th floor. Because Os Tubarões didn't all fit in the studio, we recorded an impromptu with only three of the musicians: Tótó Silva (electric guitar), Mário Russo Bettencourt (bass) and Zeca Couto (piano). And there we were improvising without barriers, suddenly detached from cultural roots, labels and constraints, a truly unique moment. The track is now being released exactly as it was recorded, imbued with the real communion between the musicians. And it could only be titled 'Red Mambo'. I wish to dedicate it to the memory of Ildo Lobo and Jaime do Rosário, founders of Os Tubarões, sadly and too soon departed from the land of music.

A multi-platform production that explores the overlap between the digital and the organic through field recordings of Inuit throat singing may sound, on surface level, to be something that is a rather niche. However, Zoe Mc Pherson's exploration of this world on String Figures is a deeply rhythmic, immersive and forward-thinking piece of electronic- leaning music that remains just as danceable as it does experimental.
The album is fundamentally one of duality, exploring the traditional and the contemporary, organic and electronic, audio and visual, history and the future. Rooted in this duality is also a core theme around string being one of the most ancient and playful art forms and the seemingly infinite possibilities it offers in terms of shapes, structures and figures lines up with this as a trans-global art project. One that over time will involve video art, choreography, 3D motion design, macro film, instrumental and electronic sound. Although for now is being presented through an AV performance, films and a record with Mc Pherson collaborating with director Alessandra Leone.!
Over the seven tracks (which are laid out as chapters) the record explores glitchy electronics, dub-tinged grooves, polyrhythms, and a huge array of instruments that takes in quiet blasts of atonal sax alongside wonky synths. This of course cross-pollinates with the throat singing and experimental field recordings to create an utterly inimitable sonic sphere. For Mc Pherson it's about mixing worlds, histories and timeframes and she uses a 1991 quote from Laurie Spiegel to hit home how she has elaborated upon this original thought of history and future overlapping. 'Folk music is considered anonymous common property in a culture and that's what a lot of computer music and other kinds of music data may end up becoming.' However, there's also a purer reason for the exploration of these worlds and colliding them together. 'Basically I thought that electronic music that is only digital is a bit boring and as I'm connected to jazz music for many reasons, I wanted it to sound organic: real instrumentation, field recordings.'

The Patchouli Brothers first began throwing parties in an Albanian dive bar in Toronto's east end, but have gone on to grace the stage at a spectrum of the city's establishments.

They hold down a residency at a rotating disco jam called Beam Me Up which, while held monthly at the Piston, has taken place in a film studio, an artist commune, above a furniture store and inside the Great Hall.

Their debut 12" for Basic Fingers features two cuts.
First up 'Wicked One', a fiery slice of gospel served with a rich piano hook.
On the flip we're treated to 'Magic Rhythm (Of Love)', a masterclass in pure disco-funk insanity.

Looking for a peak-time workout with lots of percussion Look no further...

children are laughing and playing in the back, a baby screams happily: handsome field recordings welcome the listener to the final chapter of fred p's fp-oner trilogy for mule musiq.
the opening tune is called smiles, so children's laughter fit the mode. the idea is that smiles and cries are natural for children and as they grow to adulthood the reality becomes more, therefore the duality of life itself is obvious in the mood of the song.
the new york city native that is working on his very own music for almost 20 years explains about the beginning of his new album that features eleven tunes for deep meditative club use and beyond.
it brings the listener house music full of cosmic realities, odd jazzing moments, japanese spoken word pop, synth spheres for ambient use and an overall outer-national atmosphere, that handsomely dances between roughness and subtle tuned in deepness.
i chose to base this project on numbers in order to impart a bit of depth and substance. 5, 6 and 7 have a meaning in both the literal and esoteric sense. we as a species are a combination of matter and energy, so it is a matter of relating the two in harmony.
my experience as an artist expresses this. it's like a testimony to the human condition and how we relate to treat and mistreat one another. this view is the base of a philosophy that is close to me, be-cause art imitates life.
so rather than doing a project that highlights ego posture, my intent is more about what can i give to the listener. as a human being, as an artist, what can i share it's a part of a philosophical tug of war that goes a lot deeper than the expectation of what one might think a dance album or rather an elec-tronic music album should be.
it's food for thought, not candy and a soft drink, but real substance that stays with you.he reveals about the profundity of his trilogy. at large it is a journey inward, compelling, mesmerising and en-chanting.
for the final chapter fred p mostly produced in his studio in berlin on various synths and with a bunch of mysterious samples, all later organized and programmed in ableton. this project has a beginning mid-dle and end. the record 5 was intended to introduce a meditative energy within a rhythmic construct as the number 5 represents the dynamic and unpredictable.
the whole album carries the energy of that ilk. the album 6 is of an earthly and more harmonious dis-cord. i attempt to bring the inner conflict in the form of natural unnaturalness. the raw energy of the search in this project i think is self explanatory, which is the point i believe to show how flawed one can be but express very specific themes honestly.
finally, with 7 my goal is to merge the two into balance, as one focused state of mind as 7 is the thinker beyond understanding or beyond the illusion. this is my hope people take away from this: a feeling of growth, optimism and positive energy. we are dealing with vibrations every person resonates with, so the idea is where do you want to take that
what do you want to do with that as an artist you can do some good or some harm. for me i choose to give the best that i can and i hope that the people that participate get a sense of that.' true words by a kind and gentle soul that loves to speak in music.
they explain much and then leave things in the dark too, as he basically says: let the music play. so listen deeply, open your doors of perception, dance the atomic mess around, stay small, be true and don't forget: fp oner's music is a traveling zone with a universal meaning. it can mean many things to different people. but thus is the purpose of art.

Something is looming on the horizon, a flickering presence, a sparkle in the twilight, hardly visible at first, then slowly taking shape and finally coming into view: "I will depart/I see, I will, I won't go far," Stefanie Boehm (Couch) sings on "Sirens", one of 10 tracks Ms. John Soda have recorded for "Loom", their first album in eight years – and it's true: It's a return that often feels like yet another departure, like it's time to say farewell once again, one last hug and off it goes into the valley, where life is already waiting.

A lot has changed since Ms. John Soda released the first 7" back in 1998, since Micha Acher (The Notwist, Tied & Tickled Trio, Alien Ensemble) joined Stefanie Boehm and completed the creative nucleus of this band around the turn of the millennium; day-to-day life indeed feels different some 16 years later (and half as many since the release of their sophomore album, "Notes and the Like"), but the basic chemistry, the intricate balance of electronic and analog molecules that orbit this nucleus – and thus, the resulting mood and vibe -, they're still recognizable, still undeniably Ms. John Soda: Whether it's the dense, intensely rushing soundscapes of "Hero Whales", numerous layers pushing and taking off into the same direction, the propelled clatter of "Sirens", a track like "Millions" that blows off more and more steam, a glistening, wheezing sort of madness even (though there is a tender side to it as well), the perpetual, magic lantern-like motions of "Name It" (think Trish Keenan and Broadcast) or the gradually descending melodies of opening track "In My Arms" – they're all lined with a certain tension, underpinned by a certain atmosphere, a unique brand of melancholy that never quite gives in, keeps searching for new outlets and answers.

The album title Ms. John Soda have chosen for their third full-length, "Loom", obviously hints at this feeling of re-emergence, gathering and looming, but according to the singer, it also refers to a weaving loom: It's about "weaving and combining a vast number of influences, ideas, instruments, melodies, rhythms, and layers to create a whole," says Boehm, whose vocals span these new tracks like thick, reliable ropes that glow with marine luminescence. "It's about weaving individuals into a group ('Millions'), weaving and merging former ideals and hopes with reality ('The Light'), combining 'hi' and 'bye', beginning and end ('Hi Fool'), interweaving opposite or contradicting concepts, such as pushing forward vs. being pushed ('In My Arms')." And while the weaving, just like life itself, can easily get out of hands, "because you lose track, and yet life goes on ('Name It')," a lot of these songs – e.g. "Hero Whales", the billowing "Sodawaltz", "Fall Away" – revolve around a shimmering sense of something we can't quite grasp or put a finger on just yet: "Intuitions, hopes, dreams, wishes, affinities, distances, temptations…"

Whereas Cico Beck aka Joasihno (drums, electronics), also part of Aloa Input and the latest addition to Ms. John Soda's live band, and drummer Thomas Geltinger helped out on various tracks they recorded with Oliver Zülch in Weilheim, Boehm and Acher were also joined by Karl-Ivar Refseth (percussions) and Matthias Götz (trombone). Together, they keep feeding the loom with countless spools of yarn, until epic piano closer "Fall Away" seems to offer a temporary respite: "find your way/take the dry suit off/for a night". Time to rest, to take a deep breath. Or is it already the first rays of dawn looming on the horizon?