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"The Bad Seeds and Zakary Thaks were mid ‘60s Texas garage rock bands formed in the wake of the British Invasion, influenced by The Rolling Stones, Kinks, Yardbirds and others, becoming top local live attractions at a time when the 13th Floor Elevators and Moving Sidewalks were leading the way into psychedelia. In late 1966 Rod Prince on guitar and Roy Cox on bass from Bad Seeds joined up with David Fore from Zakary Thaks on drums to create a new band out of San Antonio featuring two lead guitarists. Todd Potter filled out the quartet on second guitar and they chose the name Bubble Puppy, taken from Aldous Huxley’s 1932 dystopian novel Brave New World. Huxley was an early advocate of LSD, appropriately. In 1969 Bubble Puppy scored a top 20 hit single with “Hot Smoke & Sasafrass” which led to their LP “A Gathering Of Promises”. International Artists, the legendary Texas label that previously had unleashed mind expanding classics by the Elevators, Red Crayola, Golden Dawn and others was a perfect fit. After the LP and additional 45s didn’t repeat the success of “Hot Smoke & Sasafrass” the band hooked up with Nick St. Nicholas of Steppenwolf as their new manager and moved to Los Angeles. A new band name was in order, Nick St. Nicholas chose Demian, title of the 1919 novel by Herman Hesse. His books were popular with the counterculture at the time and had provided Steppenwolf with their new name after they changed it from the Sparrow and hit it big. Demian recorded the LP live in the studio at the Record Plant in one midnight to six session. They had their arrangements fully realized, allowing them to combine live show energy and economy with to-the-point delivery suitable for repeated listening. No doubt they were aiming for pop hit success, using proto hard rock skills in a radio friendly way without compromising the heavy guitar moves. The vocals have echoes of the earlier Bubble Puppy style in spots but are more melodic with vibrant harmonies reminiscent of Moby Grape, Buffalo Springfield, James Gang… at times flashing on Steve Stills/Richie Furay westcoast without being too sweet about it. It works terrifically when the radio friendly voices top off killer hard guitar ensemble action. Early hard rock that is too bluesy flashy can get tiresome with repeat listening, especially if overdosing on guitar solos with the band relegated to the background… Demian keep it interesting with inventive song structures allowing all four players to integrate constantly into an ever changing but focused whole. This LP is a grower, despite the basic two guitars, bass and drums lineup and no frills production you reach a lot of different places during the ride. Demian is deadly hard rock, a perfectly organized vibe straddling live energy and crafted itinerary, amongst the first obscure major label killers that commanded premium $$ with collectors even way back in the late ‘70s. It gets you there every time, even half a century later!"

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

In March 2024, Jim White released his first-ever solo album, All Hits: Memories. Coming forty years into his career, it felt like some kind of breakthrough happening. His second solo album confirms it: Jim"s deep percussive intuition is fueling a new musical vehicle in his life. Inner Day finds him dancing ever more deftly with himself on an expressionistic set of drum kit and keyboard duets. Developing meditations on his personal arcana into expressive keyboard feels, he crafts parts as he would on the kit, further interacting with them on drums as well. Jim takes another big step on Inner Day, singing on two standout tracks, "Inner Day" and "I Don"t Do / Grand Central," his words and voice in the mix for the first time. A drummer of exquisite powers, great and small - his Dirty Three compatriot Warren Ellis contends his playing long ago "split the atom" - Jim"s capable of driving a band one minute, then slipping past accompaniment and into the cracks of the subliminal in the next breath. He"s got qualities - deep pockets, a lovely sense of the moment - that serve him and those he drums with well. His collaborators include Bill Callahan, Cat Power, Marisa Anderson, Daniel Blumberg, T. Griffin, Phosphorescent, Jess Ribeiro, Ed Kuepper and Mess Esque, alongside communal experiences in Xylouris White, The Double, Beings, The Hard Quartet and Dirty Three. And all that"s just in the past five years!

Crystal Clear Vinyl, limited to 1000 copies. Who were the first punks? Do The Damned have more of a shout than The Sex Pistols? The Stooges or Ramones? Gregg Deal, the acclaimed visual and performance artist behind his new project Dead Pioneers, is making a claim that Indigenous Americans were the first real punks. Deal suggests that the overarching theme of the album is "an introduction to the band itself". Created with a DIY disposition and the "love of a scene that saves lives", they reel off a roll call of marginalised groups and protected characteristics: "Indigenous rights, Black rights, Brown rights, Asian rights, Gay rights, Trans rights, Workers rights and beyond_". This is central to their identity and focus, saying that "with a North American Indigenous person as the vocalist, being unapologetically upfront on the social, political and cultural side of things doesn't seem necessary, but paramount to the overall tone of the band." This self-titled debut, coming in at a lithe 22 minutes with only one of the twelve tracks exceeding three minutes, is almost over before it begins, but covers a huge amount of ground in that time. Blistering opener 'Tired' sets out their stall; as with the whole album, it is passionate, but never preaching. Capitalised 'Political Music' can be hard to land without coming across as hectoring or earnest, but Deal's literary, humorous lyrics effortlessly cut through complex issues of marginalisation and colonialism.

Glass Museum Records was born out of a desire to promote music specifically created for soundtracks of both existing and imaginary films. Without being bound to any genre, the label will present its first limited edition vinyl release in September 2025. The release will be "Through metaphors, assonance but mostly by differences", a journey of seven tracks produced by the band GORO HANADA, a cinematic collective based between Italy and the Netherlands.
Music fades, but it holds the vault of endless cinematic worlds.

If you're a serious music fan but not a native Kiwi, your first awareness of New Zealand's fab music scene may have come from the debut of The Chills' mesmerising Kaleidoscope World collection of early singles. Within a few years, a great number of NZ acts saw music released by various UK and US labels . . . generally to great praise and enthusiasm. That this occurred without any of these acts having to move abroad to further their chances was nearly as delightful a feat as the music itself. The exception to this was Dead Famous People, radical in a snap decision after a five-song 12" for Flying Nun, Lost Persons Area, to change hemispheres and make a go for it in London. It started well. Three London recordings were added to three from their Flying Nun EP and put out by Billy Bragg's Utility label - about as perfect a mini-album as there's ever been. Response was positive, more songs recorded, the group did a John Peel session and played out often, but the vaguely impoverished group began to fall apart. Singer and primary writer Dons Savage - determined to make it - had a near-miss at becoming Saint Etienne's singer on an early take of their 'Kiss And Make Up' cover, and there was a fine performance from her on The Chills' 'Heavenly Pop Hit' . . . but dismay had set in. Upon learning of her mum's passing back home, Dons returned to NZ and was quiet for decades. Most of their London recordings were later released later in minuscule quantities by very small labels, but these saw scant press or attention and enjoyed next-to-no sales. Their moment had passed, and the band has suffered the strange fate of being the least-known of the truly brilliant acts associated with Flying Nun. Listening to these `lost' songs, it seems unfathomable that they could have fallen by the wayside. No NZ songwriter comes as close to equalling Martin Phillipps' pop brilliance as Dons. Her superbly sweet vocals, delicious harmonies and sophisticated arrangements aside, the songs dealt perceptively with universal follies of youth and yearning in tandem with a then-unusual twist of lyrics dealing matter-of-factly with her sexuality at a time when `women's music' was seen as exclusionary (segregated into its own bin in shops, if it existed there at all), and the riot grrrl movement was years away, later breaking through due to its radical stance. Dons is a pioneer in myriad ways, the irony of her transcendent brilliance failing to propel a greater career may rest in the fact that she leapt to the head of the class too quickly for people to grasp it; a fate that's befallen so many musical geniuses acknowledged today but less in their time - something rather tragically acknowledged in old pal Martin Phillipps' song with The Chills, 'A Song For Randy Newman, Etc.' None of these thirteen songs fails to deliver something both immediate and unique. And we're proud to debut 'Vampirella"', a magical fantasy song of longing and intrigue - surely one of the most perfect tunes to ever sit around unreleased for decades! Dons is again busy conjuring new songs; in the meantime we're delighted to unveil these obscure gems from the past.

Recently I was approached by my old friend Travis Millard to make some original music for Freedom Finger - a crazy space-shooter video game he had been developing with Jim Dirschberger and Wide Right Interactive game studio. I was able to land 6 instrumentals that pop up at various points throughout the gameplay.As the game was being rolled out, the idea arose to have me do 3 more tracks - this time fully fleshed out songs with lyrics mostly inspired by Freedom Finger's gameplay. These tracks would accompany some brand new levels that would be made available as downloadable content for the game.We have decided to release all of the music I have done for Freedom Finger as a 10" vinyl EP available through Rhymesayers Entertainment. This includes the 3 full length vocal tracks, as well as the 6 shorter beats that loop throughout the game. Some of these tracks also feature additional instrumentation from my friends and frequent collaborators, Grimace Federation.Furthermore, Jim has directed a video for the song Drums on the Wheel - featuring Freedom Finger gameplay, and some brand new visuals drawn by Travis and animated by Steven Gong.The game is an absolute blast, and I hope you enjoy this music. All relevant links below. <3Love,A.R.

Bendik Giske’s Beatrice Dillon-produced 2023 album gets an addendum with reworks from Carmen Villain, aya, Hanne Lippard, Hieroglyphic Being, Wacław Zimpel and Dillon herself.

Giske’s clearly got his ear to the ground; his last remix record was an invitation for Laurel Halo to put her stamp on »Cruising«, while 2018’s »Adjust EP« roped in Deathprod, Total Freedom, Lotic, and Rezzett. Now comes this new LP of remixes and it’s one of the best we’ve heard in aeons. Carmen Villain boots things off with a remix of »Slipping«, following her excellent (and way, way too underrated) »Nutrition EP« with a giddy, subtle roller that sounds as if it’s been constructed using only Giske’s raw stems. His breaths and leathery key presses – already amped up by Dillon’s detailed recording – are magicked into a dubby concrète groove that’s enhanced with the sparest melodic elements: echoing rainforest-at-night horn blasts, and lopped off decay trails that help fuel the momentum.

aya’s revision of the same track takes a different approach, forming forceful overlapping polyrhythms from Giske’s clanks, using the gamelan-like arpeggios for melodic weight and repetition. The result is a constantly shifting, hypnotic trancer that’s achingly organic – more Raja Kirik than Paul Van Dyke. Polish clarinetist and producer Wacław Zimpel, meanwhile, supplements his trippy recent collaboration with James Holden on a similarly levitational wrinkle of »Slipping« that twists Giske’s quivering sequences with microtonal synth prangs, and gusty echoes. But it’s Jamal Moss who plays fastest and loosest with Giske’s source material, calling back to April’s psy-house stunner »Dance Music 4 Bad People« with a powdery, sexualised banger that buries the breathy »Start« stems underneath neon synths, and brittle drum loops.

»I’m a digital nomad,« Lippard deadpans over Giske’s »Not Yet«. »I’m addicted you know that.« It’s a typically dry treatment from the conceptual artist that unexpectedly amps up the hypnotic qualities of Giske’s original, adding her circuitous charm to his concertina-ing sax sequences. And to tie things up perfectly, Beatrice Dillon returns with her diaphanous remix of »Rise and Fall«, built to emphasise the radically different approaches of each artist.

Nu-hardcore quintet, Bodyweb, are the sound of someone’s nervous system on the verge of breakdown—hyperactive, tormented and unflinchingly vulnerable. Born out of the Leeds hardcore scene, they’re a shape-shifting alloy of jagged emotion and precision chaos. What began as late-night jams between Louis Hardy (Higher Power, Big Cheese, Fate) and Ben Jones (Pest Control) eventually mutated into train_wreck_simulation, a debut EP filled with frantic breakdowns and nu-metal swag that felt like the soundtrack to a digital exorcism. The final piece of the puzzle came from Hardy’s estranged childhood friend, pq. His twisted samples and synthetic textures are haunted and disturbed, injecting cyberpunk soul into hardcore flesh. Contorting through several iterations in the following years, the band absorbed Luke Thompson (Stiff Meds) on drums, filmmaker Tom Hobson on guitar and Naomi Macleod (Empire State Bastard) on bass, and laid down their first collective offering. deadwired is due out on Flatspot Records later this year. Bodyweb's second EP is a violent thesis on connection and pain that sends Hardy’s unfiltered vocals through heaven and hell. Four overstimulating tracks run a gamut of styles and influences from Slipknot to Björk, constantly lane-switching between dizzying heaviness, ambient soundscapes and brain-burrowing hooks. Entirely self-produced, deadwired upgrades the sonic formula laid down on the last record and raises the question: what else could exist in Bodyweb’s twisted roadmap? Nothing seems impossible. What seems important, however, is retaining the rawness in a style that can often turn sterile. “We still wanted it to sound very human. It had to be well produced but not cold and lifeless.” shares Hardy. “We didn’t use a click track. All guitars were real amps with microphones. We tried to make everything as real and raw as possible, we recorded using all the same gear we use when playing live too to really capture the energy of how it feels when we jam together." ‘Deadwired’ is a snapshot of violent implosion. Four ADHD-fuelled transmissions from the edge of spiritual collapse. It drags metallic hardcore through glitched-out ambience to confront ego death, generational trauma, and the violence of being alive. On stage, Bodyweb don’t just perform, they purge. Raucous live electronics meld with digitally contorted guitars. Breakbeats meet breakdowns—no backing track in sight. Bodyweb enable a collective catharsis. Mosh, dance, dive, scream, heal. A physical therapy session screamed into the void.

It has been a long time since Creepy Crawl released any music – the return to the fray was not something we had had thought about – times have changed, the world of underground music is almost unrecognizable – however things came back into focus earlier this year when the underground legend that is Mike Vest came calling…. Mike Vest is a one man musical tour de force known for his extensive work with such bands as Bong, Drunk in Hell, 11 Paranoias, Blown Out and Mienakunaru to name a few, releasing records on many underground labels such as Riot Season, Ritual Productions and Cardinal Fuzz etc For Brain Pills Mike has teamed up with Adam Stone from the excellent Poundland on vocals and Nick Raybould from Thought Bubble on drums and art – the result is very impressive indeed – primitive but deadly drums, pulverizingly heavy riffs – lots of fuzz and distortion going on coupled with Adam Stones demented and haunting vocal style all topped off by the excellent and disturbing artwork courtesy of Nick Raybould.

The LP Goatshead is homage to Mike's hometown of Gateshead – Goatshead being the ancient pagan name. The record has been mastered for this vinyl release by crust punk legend Bri Doom, known for his work with Sore Throat, Doom, Lazarus Blackstar and most recently with the excellent Disciple BC - the sound is massive, just what you would expect. Released on clear yellow vinyl with OBI strip and limited to just 300 copies – consume or die!

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

Republica is the debut studio album by English band Republica, originally released in 1996. Three singles were released from the album: "Bloke", "Ready to Go" and "Drop Dead Gorgeous", with the last two being huge hits. Upon its release, Republica received generally positive reviews from music critics and was a commercial success. It peaked at #4 on the UK Albums chart and was also successful in other countries, including Germany, The Netherlands and New Zealand. BuzzFeed listed "Ready To Go" at #37 in their list of the 101 Greatest Dance Songs Of The '90s in 2017. The song is featured in dozens of commercials, movies, and series, including Baywatch, Captain Marvel, Malcolm in the Middle, Queer As Folk. Fun fact, "Ready to Go" is also the theme song for the Top Thrill Dragster roller coaster at Cedar Point in Ohio. Republica is available as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on flaming coloured vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet with lyrics and pictures.

Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’ and ‘The World Is Wrong’ are examples of Vice Squad’s ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, ‘Battle of Britain’, showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’, followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister ‘Out of Reach’. Next up is the visceral ‘Get A Life’, an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic ‘Resurrection’. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of ‘Allergy’ underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime ‘Sniffing Glue’, a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. ‘Ordinary Girl’ is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. ‘The World Is Wrong’ is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It’s always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, ‘Citizen’, and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal ‘Scarred For Life’. ‘Voice of the People’ is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, ‘Freedom of speech is against the law; now we’re all criminals,’ snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. ‘Punk Police’ sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, ‘Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,’ call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, ‘Humane’, and I’m struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome ’Spitfire’ takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into ‘Born In A War’, the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the ‘Last Rockers’, the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.' The four bonus CD tracks kick off with ‘Coward’, another teen Bateman/Bond composition. ‘No You Don’t’ is just over two minutes of vocal acrobatics over a Dexedrine-driven Devo-esque chord sequence, and the frantically brilliant ‘I Dare To Breathe’ from ‘Battle of Britain’ continues the aural assault. Then the final sombre entreaty of ‘You Can’t Buy Back The Dead’ warns us that ‘Enough’s never enough; absolute power will corrupt; the war machine still rumbles on’ before fading into the future.

There’s something oddly comforting in the idea of a dead star still sending signals — distant, mechanical, yet somehow filled with meaning. Inertia and the whole record, tap into that contradiction: the sensation of being impossibly far from home, yet still drawn toward something vast, unseen, and filled with memory.

Written & produced by Dangkhoa Chau
Mastered by Stefan Betke at Scapemastering
Vinyl pressed at AFG Record Manufacturing
Distributed by Readymade Distribution
Curation & artwork by Severja

"World of Pooh immensely brightened the dark corners of San Francisco, California during the years 1983-1990, with their most recognized guise being the MMF trio that existed & thrived during the years 1986-1990. This is the lineup you’ll hear documented on this exceptional collection of 45s, compilation tracks and assorted ephemera. The band has ranged from being a footnote for some (“is that the band Barbara Manning was once in?”) to a fondly-regarded memory for others (“the Land of Thirst album is a forgotten classic”) to a turnstile, door-opening band for still others — like me. They arrived in my life as they were slowly exiting theirs, and I eagerly attended a half-dozen shows of theirs circa 1989-90 around San Francisco moments after I moved there. They were instantly my favorite local band, one I was instantly duty-bound to see whenever & wherever they played. Their jagged and discombobulated take on underground pop music was exceptionally fertile, feral and fetching, and it served as a personal gateway drug that flowered my own appreciation for many different kinds of subtle musical tension.
I also spent at least five glorious years watching Jay Paget, who drummed for World of Pooh and later the Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, ply his rhythmic trade with much aplomb. He was always a steady hand behind the musical wheel of innovative bands who often threatened to careen off course. And I’ll admit to an untoward admiration of (and fascination with) World of Pooh founder, guitarist and singer Brandan Kearney from the moment I met the guy. Not only was he exceptionally friendly and welcoming to a carpetbagging interloper quickly trying to horn in on his scene (me), he was at once one of the most quick-witted, self-deprecating, highly intelligent & musically conversant people I’d ever met. Everything he and his band were doing, along with the mind-boggling DIY gunk he was pushing through his record label, Nuf Sed, and via his multiple other bands (among them: Caroliner & Archipelago Brewing Company, with several more to follow), made me extremely curious and not a tiny bit jealous about these wiser, weirder and musically more daring freaks who were making art, love & war in the relatively grittier & non-gentrified San Francisco of the day.
What I’ve learned in the 35 years since the band broke up is just how highly regarded they were (and remain) by not only those who saw them, but by a now-considerably larger group of humans who’ve subsequently heard & loved their records. I know that their place in the late 1980s was a small but special one, and I’ve seen plenty of online clamoring for more, more, more about this ephemeral and poorly-documented band. And rightly, here it is, lovingly assembled: their two hard-to-come-by 45s, a handful of comp tracks, and a quartet of phenomenal songs just coming to light for the first time, including that Half Japanese cover that dimly existed in my memory as a live song they naturally pulled off with sangfroid, from a time and space when we were all a little younger. - Jay Hinman"

The legendary Beatnuts bring the sound of the 90‘s back to the streets -“Street Level”, the iconic debut album, is being reissued and is available in various exclusive formats: a Standard CD, Music Cassette, Black Double Vinyl and a Limited Splatter Double Vinyl.

TWO BONUS TRACKS:
“HELLRAISER“(ORIGINAL VERSION) AND TWO AND “DAWN OF THE DEAD“
Old school flavor, Latin vibes & sample magic - that‘s the unmistakable Beatnuts sound.
With classics such as “Props Over Here”, and With and “Hit Me with That” the Queens duo made hip-hop history.

The legendary Beatnuts bring the sound of the 90‘s back to the streets -“Street Level”, the iconic debut album, is being reissued and is available in various exclusive formats: a Standard CD, Music Cassette, Black Double Vinyl and a Limited Splatter Double Vinyl.

TWO BONUS TRACKS:
“HELLRAISER“(ORIGINAL VERSION) AND TWO AND “DAWN OF THE DEAD“
Old school flavor, Latin vibes & sample magic - that‘s the unmistakable Beatnuts sound.
With classics such as “Props Over Here”, and With and “Hit Me with That” the Queens duo made hip-hop history.

‘You are behind the damn wheel every day and you don’t even know it’ , weightily remarks Powerplant’s band leader Theo Zhykharyev on the reading of his latest single. London-based project signals the return to signature formula of marching drum machines and wailing synthesisers, matured by life experiencing of prolonged touring. ’Car is life, brother. Sometimes you drive it, other times - the car drives you. And, statistically, we’ll all see the airbags go off sooner than later as consequence of choices made by us or onto us, consciously or not.’
Crashing Cars breaks out the gates to the heavy low end driven dance floor. ‘I was listening to a lot of Bladee when I wrote it and needed a similar thick kick to get you moving’, says Theo. Its an emotionally loaded cannon of a track that will keep you in its grip until it has run its course and told its story. Yearning from connection unfulfilled, rings out through the heartbroken and weeping synth and choir lines. The ever-morphing and dynamic bass works in tandem with razor sharp guitars. The instrumentation, through combined ‘no looking back’ forward charge and immediacy, conjure a manic and emotional forward momentum, which rings out in the song’s lyrics. The vocal performance ranges from the trademark Powerplant goblin squeaks, to more mature, tour-hardened singing. On a sonic aesthetic level, Crashing Cars vibrates in a familiar fashion to Powerplant’s biggest hit Dungen. However, this time far less playful and harder hitting. Described as the fallout of “avoiding, chasing and running away”, lyrically it paints a dead end in human relationships concluding it car-crash heading for the scrapyard. The song concludes with a loaded four line spoken word poetry segment, that hangs over the fleeting outro.
The B side of the single, Never Smile, rolls the speed back, but throws in jangly guitar hooks and bouncy bass lines. Zhykharyev’s vocals sit in a lower register, hence are more stoic and melancholic. If this track had to be a day of the week, it would be a calm, introspective Sunday. With lyrics about looking into evil omens, the sky and reading people as ‘not something different’, it paints an ambiguous, but heavy conclusion about the world and its people. It tells a story about circumstantially settling into an identity and playing the assigned part for the convenience of the external world. It’s easier to fit than to stand apart. It's a perfect balance of mid-tempo radio-rock that builds and changes, before exploding into a shaggy guitar solo, only to go into an unexpected ethereal outro and this 7”s crescendo.
‘Both of these songs are kinda old now, sitting at around 4 years old. And although I haven’t changed the lyrics since then, I somehow find new meaning in them as time goes on. Being Ukrainian and going into the fourth year of the full scale Russian invasion back home, the chorus “my death to you - a better price to pay” makes a lot of sense looking at how the world powers are trying to spin the devastation of my people for a quick profit and an easier life for themselves. This single coming out now at this very point in my life feels both profound and very ironic. Life never ends’, summarises Zhykharyev.

José James just can’t leave the ’70s alone. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The singer, songwriter, bandleader, and producer was born in 1978, after all, but over his past 17 years of fundamentally forward-looking, blessedly mercurial music, he keeps getting pulled back in. His 2013 Blue Note breakthrough No Beginning No End revisited the hooky, funky, jazz-streaked songcraft of the time through a modern crate-digger’s ears. On 2020’s No Beginning No End 2 — James’ debut on his own Rainbow Blonde Records — he went back through the portal with a small army of fellow celebrated eclecticists. Just last year, there was the album 1978, a richly layered love letter to said year that felt deep, luxe, and cool. It’s as if — vested with the restless fluidity of jazz, the tuned-in sensitivity of soul, and the revisionist grit of hip-hop — he is trying to play his way into the exact moment when, culturally speaking, everything was about to change.

“I'm still so fascinated by the tension in that era of all these seemingly clashing things happening at once,” says James. “The loft scene, the jazz scene, Elton and Billy, Bob Marley, the Isleys, Funkadelic, disco being this behemoth in a way I don't think we even understand today… And then there’s where everybody went from there — into hip-hop, into punk rock, exploding jazz. It's like a summation of the ’70s, and it's about to transform. It's the peak of the rollercoaster.”

Literally breaking into history is impossible, of course, but James’ new LP, 1978: Revenge of the Dragon, does feel like breaking through or bursting out. In loving contrast to its predecessor, the fresh set plays hot, like a Friday night out at the Mudd Club in its prime. Though he’s dreamt up albums with collaborator counts approaching the dozens, James gathered a tight crew for this one. Himself and Taali on vocals. BIGYUKI on keys and analog synth. Jharis Yokley on drums. Bass split between David Ginyard (Blood Orange, Terence Blanchard) and Kyle Miles (Michelle Ndgeocello, Nick Hakim). And an all-star brass lineup: Takuya Kuroda on trumpet, young lion Ebban Dorsey on alto sax, and genre-spanning ronin Ben Wendel on tenor sax. They set up in Dreamland Studios near Woodstock, a restored 19th century church, and recorded live to tape, two tracks, drums pushed to the max — “a small homage to the rise of punk,” says James.

In that place out of time, the band laid down a handful of choice covers and some wild originals, like the single “They Sleep, We Grind (for Badu),” a decades-collapsing cut powered by an ugly groove. Steeped in dub, funk, and sampledelia, James chants an artists’ mantra (“They sleep, we grind / Man, f--- your nine to five”), makes lyrical callouts to Marley and Nas, and channels everything from George Clinton to J Dilla, not to mention the earthy mysticism of Erykah Badu. In 2023, James released and toured his Badu covers LP, On & On. “Living in her musical house for a year was transformative,” he says. “This is my summary of everything I learned through her, tying it to this idea that artists move differently. We are in society but we are outside, too, looking out and in at the same time. Our hours are different, our schedules are different.”

To that point, James and co. actually began each day in the woods, filming the album’s visual companion piece, Revenge of the Dragon, an honest-to-God kung-fu short complete with bad overdubs, training montages, camera tricks, and plot twists. The film pays tribute not only to the genre’s greatest year (1978, of course), but also its cinematic exchange with Blaxploitation, plus James’ own recent Shaolin training and admiration for Bruce Lee as a culture-bridging force (the LP’s cover recreates an iconic shot of Lee). On top of that, says James, “We had this immediacy in the studio. Live, one take, no overdubbing. I feel like that's where the martial arts piece comes in, where it's about being relaxed but also aware, and there's immediacy in your movements.”

Across the project, tribute takes that refracted, multifaceted form. From his personal late-’70s playlist, James chose four covers reflecting the era’s disco-fied churn: the MJ-meets-Quincy dancefloor masterpiece “Rock With You”; Herbie Hancock’s prescient vocoder fever dream, “I Thought It Was You”; and a pair of Black-radio hits from two bands whose fans typically wouldn’t have been caught dead in the same stadium: “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones and the Bee Gees’ “Inside and Out.” All of it gets filtered through a contemporary Black (and beyond) lens, coming out loud, free, funky, and buzzing — dynamic, yes, but also of a joyous piece.

1978: Revenge of the Dragon transports you to a crowded room where all this is playing out in real time. That feeling is helped out by opener “Tokyo Daydream,” a bass-driven swan dive into a neverending night of boutique bar-hopping and neon revelry. Later, “Rise of the Tiger” finds James bringing rare braggadocio to a propulsive track with growling synth lines and a hunger for whatever comes next. And then there’s the closer, “Last Call at the Mudd Club,” which with its upbeat energy and string of Stevie-inspired pickup lines, evokes the sort of unabashedly elated track the DJ throws on at 3:56 a.m. before everyone is kicked out. “I wanted to leave the album on that note,” says James. “If this was a night out in New York, this would be the last thing you hear before you get in that taxi and go back to your apartment.” Or, perhaps, back to 2025.