Search:bellows

Don Kashew returns to Subject To Restrictions Discs with the album ‘Bellows’. A haunting, melodic, maudlin affair, as one would expect from the Zurich-based producer, with a variety of ‘breathing’ instruments as a fulcrum, that challenges any physicality.

The compositions draw from the pool of New Age music and neo-folk of the 80s and 90s. But ‘Bellows’ stretches and looks at the future, deliberately blurring lines that were supposedly anchored. So, Don Kashew has begun a new phase in his musical expression; quivering, but grounded and interwoven in a rich arras of synth work and overlapping woodwind sounds.

Death Is Not The End reissue Mark Vernon's sought-after 2013 collection Sounds of a Modern Hospital on vinyl & cassette formats.

Whilst every effort has been made to record the subject in as great a degree of isolation as possible, the sound recordings you will hear on this record were made in a real working hospital and not under controlled conditions. Therefore, on occasion, you may hear some unavoidable background noise, conversations and other extraneous sounds.

All recordings were made by Mark Vernon at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, Larbert, Stirling Community Hospital and Falkirk Community Hospital between 2011 and 2013.

Death Is Not The End reissue Mark Vernon's sought-after 2013 collection Sounds of a Modern Hospital on vinyl & cassette formats.

Whilst every effort has been made to record the subject in as great a degree of isolation as possible, the sound recordings you will hear on this record were made in a real working hospital and not under controlled conditions. Therefore, on occasion, you may hear some unavoidable background noise, conversations and other extraneous sounds.

All recordings were made by Mark Vernon at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, Larbert, Stirling Community Hospital and Falkirk Community Hospital between 2011 and 2013.

Yesterday it started to rain…

The smell of damp tarmac rising up through open windows, a smell which is uniquely evocative for us all depending on our individual histories: a suburban pavement, a school playground, a basketball court.
The rain cut through a band of low pressure that had been lying over the city for days, pinging rhythmically off metal, causing rolling tyres to hiss and spit.

The music that soundtracked this meteorological shift was the debut full length from Rain Text (Giuseppe Ielasi & Giovanni Civitenga), simply titled III. Scattered throughout the nameless eight tracks there are moments of low-end pressure relieved by the fizz and clatter of metallic rhythms; there is static, there is discord, there is release.

The individuals comprising Rain Text have a long history of manipulating sounds for evocative ends, Giuseppe Ielasi has been making music as one half of Bellows for many years, each album stretching and destroying their sound in beautiful increments. He has also released reliably inspirational music either solo or in collaboration for the likes of Editions Mego, Shelter Press and Faitiche. His sensitive ears are also in high demand as a mastering engineer. It is worth perusing the 800+ releases he has technical credits for on Discogs: from classics of the avant-garde to the freshest faces of the Swedish underground, the chances are some of your favourite albums are included.

Giovanni Civitenga helms the SKYAPNEA long-running NTS show. Joining him, you can enjoy the fruits of a lifetime of deep listening through shows that flit between the industrial and the devotional, a space that is fully explored on III.

The album was recorded quickly over three fertile days in Ielasi’s studio in Monza, but of course results like this can only be achieved at such a pace by spending a lifetime obsessing over the mechanics and possibilities of sound.

Those who are enamoured by the rain—who are returned by it to the surfaces, smells and sounds of a lost and idealised youth; who feel themselves restored—are known as ‘pluviophiles’. Their response to rain may well have a biological explanation: when rain hits tarmac negative ions are released into the air, which are thought to result in feelings of wellbeing and positivity. All the more reason, then, to return to the vivid ecosystem that Rain Text has so carefully cultivated for III."

Words by The Dengie Hundred – August 2024

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

From the bellows of a galactic abyss, n-trip offers their first solo EP release on DU:RA. The label boss reveals 4 deep techno tracks cultivated from an appreciation of the stylings of Valentino Mora, Ntogn and Simone Bauer adjacent sound palettes. Attending festivals such as Organik and experiences with deep techno doofs out in the Aussie bushland has also heavily influenced this release.

Reservation and propulsive sound design shape the tracks for the most part, while aspects of field recordings are littered throughout the release of rocks, leaves and sticks from recent travels. The structural simplicity and minimalistic elements make for perfect DJ tracks to accompany swamp-like sets and throbbing sub basslines are sure to shake any doof or club system.

‘Domina’ opens the release with chiming pads and heavily delayed artefacts invoking an ethereal cosmos of which the kicks and bass gently reinforce in movement. A broken snare beat follows as gradually layers of percussion increase in intensity.

‘MML’ takes what energy has built and adds pounding toms to the rhythm. Harsh live synthesis swells in the backdrop as hi-hats and clicks pan around the white noise and minimal yet intentional synth work.

‘dddBBB’ drops the tempo as it comes in full of field recordings. Taking you on a bushwalk through a desolate dreamscape – it slowly grows and pulsates like a giant snake writhing through the cosmic jungle, stalking its prey.

‘MR13’ then takes these ideas and jacks up the tempo to finish off the release. Shakers pan about as sticks, rocks and leaves reinforce the rhythm. FM chords slowly add life to the beat and are accompanied by giant bassy pads that gradually coalesce into its humble yet driving finale.

All tracks have been produced on Gadigal Land. Always was, always will be Aboriginal Land.

Indonesian duo Kuntari make music that's so distinctive, they had to devise their own genre: primal-core. On Mutu Beton, multiinstrumentalist Tesla Manaf and percussionist Rio Abror dialog with both history and their tropical surroundings in Bandung, West Java's mountainous capital. Using the cornet and hulusi, a free reed instrument made from a bottle gourd and bamboo pipes, Manaf echoes the bellows of local elephants, orangutans and rhinos, grazing Abror's ancestral Indonesian rhythms with potent overdriven riffs and evocative microtonal chimes.

It's music that's profoundly atmospheric and simultaneously raw, recorded live to fully encapsulate the dynamic and deeply human interaction between the two seasoned players. There are elements of sludge metal, noise and post-hardcore, references to traditional folk music and jazz, and gestures towards sound art, 20th century minimalism and dark ambient, but what Kuntari do is completely idiosyncratic -- it's hardly surprising it needed a similarly unique categorization.

Manaf started Kuntari as a solo project, debuting in 2020 with Black Shirt Attracts More Feather and animating his nimble instrumental improvisations with bold electronic processes and booming synthetic drums. And by the time he recorded 2022's acclaimed Last Boy Picked, his approach had evolved significantly; prioritizing organic sounds, he played prepared cornet and piano, bringing in additional percussionists to help devise a ritualistic rhythm section. Abror was one of those performers, and ended up sticking around, playing on 2023's furious LARYNX/STRIDULA, the stylistic precursor for Mutu Beton. At this stage, the duo have racked up a litany of accolades and collaborated with a spectrum of like-minded artists, from noise deity Keiji Haino to fellow Indonesian free-thinker Rully Shabara, who's best known for his work with Senyawa and avant-garde supergroup Osmium. Mutu Beton plays like a lap of honor, showcasing their most kinetic and most feral recordings to date. Kuntari surpass their own high standards, folding history and geography in on itself and suggesting a trailblazing Indonesian cultural movement that's not restricted by highbrow Western conventions. It's not just automation and technology that drives progression, it's interaction and observation. And there's nothing more primal, or revolutionary, than that.

Yowzers is a new album by Chicago composer, improvisor, and musical folklorist Ben LaMar Gay. Yowzers features Gay"s working quartet with Tommaso Moretti (drums, percussion, voice), Matthew Davis (tuba, piano, bells, voice), and Will Faber (guitar, ngoni, bells, voice), as well as guest instrumentalist Rob Frye and a mini-choir. The album recalls the high-minded freedom of Liberation Music Orchestra, the glitched-out electronic webs of Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, the unbridled rhythms and sandpaper bellows of Bukka White, and the harmolodic cartoon glory of Arthur Blythe"s Illusions. It"s all there, filtered through an improvisational approach and a lifetime of secrets embodied. For a man who has inhabited and traveled these continents so extensively, it"s safe to call this work true "Americana", despite what that word might mean to the average person in the United States.

Yowzers is a new album by Chicago composer, improvisor, and musical folklorist Ben LaMar Gay. Yowzers features Gay"s working quartet with Tommaso Moretti (drums, percussion, voice), Matthew Davis (tuba, piano, bells, voice), and Will Faber (guitar, ngoni, bells, voice), as well as guest instrumentalist Rob Frye and a mini-choir. The album recalls the high-minded freedom of Liberation Music Orchestra, the glitched-out electronic webs of Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, the unbridled rhythms and sandpaper bellows of Bukka White, and the harmolodic cartoon glory of Arthur Blythe"s Illusions. It"s all there, filtered through an improvisational approach and a lifetime of secrets embodied. For a man who has inhabited and traveled these continents so extensively, it"s safe to call this work true "Americana", despite what that word might mean to the average person in the United States.

Following a trio of quick sell out, limited lathe cut 45 to kick off 2025, Feral Child now embark on a stash of more widely available full lengths (from the likes of Lake Ruth, The Jonny Halifax Invocation and Polypores amongst others). First up is a wonderful follow up to 2023’s “Refrains” 10” EP from Swedish band TAPE. “Refrains” figured in 2 or 3 notable UK stores’ end of year polls, noticeably Monorail in Glasgow where Stephen Pastel gave it a top 3 for 2023 nomination. “Preludes” is -if anything- even more majestic and acts as a superb follow up. The record is released 11th April on Feral Child as one time pressing 10” vinyl only release, featuring beautiful artwork once more from Peter Liversidge and the calligraphic hand of Klas Augustsson. The return of Swedish trio Tape has been reassuringly slow motion. They’ve always moved at their own pace, these three peripatetic musicians – brothers Andreas and Johan Berthling, and companion Tomas Hallonsten – though it’s been over a decade since their last full-length, 2014’s Casino. Not a disappearing act, rather a break for consideration, time to explore other avenues of creativity, perhaps… But their reappearance, with the Refrains 10”, was one of 2023’s most encouraging moments; doubly so, as it was proof they’d not lost their way, at all, in the intervening nine years. The Tape modus operandi is one of deceptive simplicity and artful innocence. On Preludes, a typically right, one-word Tape title, this means five wordless songs that move between fully fleshed out, lovingly tended folk threnodies – the beautiful opener, “Lights Out”, that spins webs via simple, hypnotically repeating guitar – and textural conceits that hover, appealingly, in a kind of no-place. “Naukluft Plateau” is lovingly dappled, with ruminative piano adrift on a cascading tonal waterfall. Then, feather-fall strums of guitar meet huffing harmonium and electronic scrum on the brief “Golden Gain”. Is there a more perfect song title for Tape than “Tangential Thoughts”? It sums up the way their music, nimble and dainty but also carefully tended, lends itself to the reverie, the meander, the anfractuous. The madeleine-like power of this song’s two-chord figure allows the music to take flight: rustling organ, oscillating cymbal, droplets of percussion, a spinney of sound. And Preludes slips away “On The Accordeon Bus”: there’s something lovely about the way that title collapses transit, articulation and bellows, reflected in the see-sawing sway and glitch-like rivulets of sound that course through the song. So, Preludes, then – alive to the moment, both gentle and sturdy. A copse of tone, and a most gorgeous wool-gathering.

*RED VINYL*Of the plethora of touted "private press hard rock monsters'' out there, very few live up to the swaggering riff-fury of west coast blasters ODA. Commonly known as the "Black Album," the first clobbering platter by the quartet was released on their own tiny Loud Phonograph Records imprint and now commands large sums—but is actually worth the heavy hype. The band naturally centered around Randy Oda, a multi-talented ax shredder and keyboardist, and the lineup was filled out by his brother Kevin on drum assault, Art Pantoja on lead bellows and rhythm guitar, and galloping bassist Kyle Schneider. The Oda brothers were born in Alameda County, California, attending Kennedy High School in Richmond, and started the band while still teenagers at the beginning of the '70s. ODA was influenced by hard UK rockers like Deep Purple, Zep, Free, and the Who, and they gigged all over the Bay Area, with Randy garnering comparisons to Jeff Beck's molten six-string mastery. This 1971 self-titled LP (aka the Black Album) fully displays their blistering talents, but despite some local airplay on KSAN radio, the band packed it in by '73. This would not be the end of the Oda story, as Randy joined CCR's Tom Fogerty in the outfit Ruby afterwards, laying down his licks on two LPs that flirted with the mainstream, while staying true to his highly electric guitar muse. In 1983, ODA actually reformed for one more LP on Loud Phonograph, entitled Power Of Love. The comeback album delves a little deeper into radio friendly power pop, which makes sense, as in '82 Oda co-wrote "Think I'm In Love" with Eddie Money (which, let's face it, is Money's best song by like a mile). Randy would also collaborate with Fogerty as a duo, and the posthumous Sidekicks album (released after Fogerty passed) listed the clearly-integral Randy Oda as "arranger, composer, guitar (acoustic), guitar (electric), keyboards, primary artist, and producer.” In the 2000s, Randy would start another band with his brother called OPO which means "to lay a foundation" in Hawaiian, and ODA would reform to play a benefit in 2015 along with other obscure and heady/heavy Bay Area rockers like Savage Resurrection and Country Weather (some live footage of the event shows the band still rocking hard). At last, Riding Easy is legitimately reissuing ODA's first smoking, gargantuan LP with bonus tracks, so crank this one up in the '70s Camaro with the windows open, and some dirt weed joints a-blazin'. #

As we approach the threshold leading us back to the Black Lodge on our transformative 8th journey, we are escorted through and beyond the mystical portal by the vigorous and fierce forces of Sneaker. Portrait in House is a collection of 3 resonant works, which are unified into a singular vision within its uncanny language that is rooted deeply in the foundations of Jak, New Beat, EBM, and Wave. Existing inside the liminal spaces of where light meets dark, we are presented with a documentation of dissonance and harmony. We begin our voyage with Jihad, a sluggish and slogging piece that unforgivingly drags us through the grime and the dirt in a ritualistic fashion that would have the ghost of Georges Bataille dancing in circles. Voices call out and howl into the dark as the drum patterns of the 707 rhythmically grasps onto its anarchic components. In the dark, we can see the light beyond the known universe. In the words of Sneaker "The name is not our message, but a document of an evident, traditional concept in (y)our world." As we find ourselves sprawled out on the ground following the 1st sonic stanza, a menacing voice bellows and warns that this is a Sax Track. Referencing Chicago icon Lil Louis, this work juxtaposes classical elements of house music together with the bare knuckled spirit of Jak. A magical spell led by disharmonious Portasound FM keys in conversation with a teetering sub bass, where at its core, this plus this, equals something that is uniquely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A number fit for any uncanny ritual that will fall under the night sky. Bringing our cosmic procession to a close we pick up the pace with a commanding number titled, Dance On, a no holds barred work that will possess your soul in the name of Jak. Flangers wail unforgivingly alongside a pulsating 101, as samples of the human voice are chopped up and arranged into a conversation that hypnotically calls for our bodies to be transformed into soft machines, while powered by ceremonious motions that are generated from the liberating process of ritual movement. We command you to dance! Words by Justin Aulis Long

This release documents the coming together of two fallible musical instrument systems and their creator-operators. In June 2023, Graham Dunning's Mechanical Techno and Sam Underwood's Acoustic Modular System took a train journey to Galerie Paradise in Nantes, France. Following a period of exploration, points of cohesion, jeopardy and happenstance were exploited to create these nine unruly pieces that appeared initially on the ultra-limited vinyl release on the gallery’s record label. Now they celebrate a new pressing of Beaux Timbres on Accidental.

Using innovative methods, they create abstract, rhythmical and textural experimental soundscapes. Graham uses an extended turntable: a regular DJ turntable with numerous sensors, modified vinyl records and synthesizers creating irregular rhythmic patterns. Sam presents his Acoustic Modular System: a device for creating acoustic sounds with bellows, feedback and chaotic sequencers.

DREAMLESS VEIL make their debut with the new album, Every Limb of the Flood. The band, featuring members of INTER ARMA, ARTIFICIAL BRAIN, and PSYCROPTIC manifest terrifying Blackened Extreme Metal and offer one of the year's most haunting releases. Every Limb of the Flood is a concept album. Through tracks such as "A Generation of Eyes", "Saturnism", and "Cyanide Mine" Vocalist Mike Paparo and co. task the listener to consider what it would be like for an individual to fully disappear. DREAMLESS VEIL delves into this murk through 8 tracks - dramatic swells, melodic crescendos, and abrasive blast-beat poundings make way to more introspective moments ultimately resulting in pure horror. Paparo explores the concept of corporeal disintegration with pained shrieks and disembodied bellows, resulting in one of the most unchained performances of his storied career. Lyrics for the record show, but don't tell. DREAMLESS VEIL's concept alludes to misery leading to grotesquery - The opener "Dim Golden Rave" throws the listener into an ambiguous time and place: "Grief, spiritless, collapses against the filth-ridden street". The second track, "A Generation of Eyes" follows this narrative by invoking Neil Young, quoting him to the extent of "rust never sleeps." What ensues is a grief so powerful it decomposes from within. The end result manifests in the album closer "Dreamless" - the body is now fully discarded, hinting at a possible enlightenment through a horrible, gruesome process. Sonically, Every Limb of the Flood is a caustic, corrosive journey. Critically acclaimed drummer David Haley flexes some of his most creative drum work to date, dragging the listener through wild tempo changes, breakneck speeds that come to sudden halts, while guitarist Dan Gargiulo (ARTIFICIAL BRAIN) interweaves disorienting guitar madness. Recorded by Brett Bamberger (REVOCATION) Every Limb of the Flood was mixed by Gargiulo and mastered by Colin Marston (Gorguts, Krallice, and more.)

Île Flottante is Mr. Beatnick´s 5th album, following 2023’s Joy In Variation (including the notorious cover of Love on a Real Train) and his well-received off-beat collaboration with London-based avant-garde agitator Richard Greenan – Coasty – this is his first contribution to the International Feel trademark. Probably best known for some big deep house revivalist tunes circa 2013 on the now dormant Don’t Be Afraid record label, Beatnick now converts that aural quality and dimensionality into the Balearic system.
Île Flottante takes its name from the tastiest French pudding of Mr. Beatnick’s childhood holidays. The name, also a jeux de mots - floating island - hinting at the album’s inspirations and sense of identity, as a danceable soundtrack to a fictional island. Explored with high intensity and over a yearlong process, the sounds of the well-worn, but never failing Balearic universes were a mind expanding influence. Think of genre staples like Software, Manuel Goettsching, Mark Barrott, Len Leise, Don Carlos, Gaussian Curve, Joan Bibiloni or Yasuaki Shimuzu.
„I spent a year listening to a lot of synthesized island music, and marveling at the many twinkling wonders of the Balearic musical universe. Struck by a sense of belonging that had often eluded me on my musical journey thus far, as the weirdo at the back of the club who had orbited many scenes for 20 years, but never felt like I fitted in, I found music that made me feel like I had come home. The songs that came out of this process are presented in the order that they were written - an open book of ocean hymns, honest and spoken from the heart.“
Île Flottante tries its very hardest to avoid being any one thing in particular. At one point, it is a gentle beach walk accompanied by polyrhythmic drum plod and flourishes of Guzheng. At another, the infamous James Yancey septuplet swing is repurposed against a marimba melody that wouldn’t be out of place in one of Link’s forest adventures.
Elsewhere, there are the bellows of distant whales, touches of Italian dream house and a splash of vintage madchester, all working to create a space that feels both familiar and loaded with well worn tropes, but with its own quirky sense of personality, facets which are often attributed to Mr. Beatnick’s holistic b-boy approach. This is his understanding of a Balearic (b-boy) stance. Just with a float instead of a freeze.

New Heaven, INTER ARMA’s latest album, is a compelling testament to perseverance, top to bottom. Its thicket of ever-dense layers of doom, death, and black metal occasionally let bits of light slip in, fleeting reminders to keep going amid the tumult. New Heaven marks a sharp turn for the band, showcasing some of the most extreme and angular songwriting INTER ARMA has ever laid bare. Known for their cinematic take on sludgy, extremely cavernous, and borderline psychedelic Metal, the Richmond band broadens their dynamics by seesawing between piledriving momentum and swirling oblivion. New Heaven crushers and conquers, and illustrates what INTER ARMA can truly be. Take the title track, with its hair-raising lead riff stemming from drummer/songwriter TJ Childers’ challenge to himself to write a nonsensically dissonant part that he ended up loving. The song spirals upward into a punishing Death-Metal march, Meanwhile, vocalist Mike Paparo’s stentorian bellows the bludgeon, above an impossibly complicated web of riffs and rhythms. From the get go, New Heaven and the opening title track eschews any restraint - INTER ARMA is completely unchained. Paparo’s keen and empathetic lyrics about innocent victims of war, addiction, and social apathy affirm that feeling, as a survivor grimaces at the carnage behind him and presses ahead best he can. “You stared into the brutish jaws of strife’s heartless device,” he growls into a chthonic blitz during “The Children the Bombs Overlooked,” a late-album powerhouse. “And you turned your back to hell.” That forward march out of madness is New Heaven in an armor-plated nutshell. Though this is indeed another INTER ARMA triumph, it is not a triumphant album, meant to offer some glib or naïve assurance that everything will be fine. What evidence is there for that, really, either on a record where friends are forced into submission, addiction, suicide, or retreat to a world where suffering remains the lingua franca? No, INTER ARMA and New Heaven are too realistic and experienced for that. This is, instead, a record about enduring brambles and curses and lasting long enough to make something profound, honest, and even affirming about it all every now and again—exactly as INTER ARMA has on New Heaven. FFO: Amenra, Neurosis, Full of Hell, Cult of Luna, Yob, Primitive Man, Thou, Ulcerate, Mastodon, The Body, Panopticon

Kali Malone's anticipated new album "All Life Long" is a collection of music for pipe organ, choir, and brass quintet composed by Kali Malone, 2020 - 2023. Choral music performed by Macadam Ensemble and conducted by Etienne Ferschaud at Chapelle Notre-Dame-de-L'Immaculée-Conception in Nantes. Brass quintet music performed by Anima Brass at The Bunker Studio in New York City. Organ music performed by Kali Malone and Stephen O'Malley on the historical meantone tempered pipe organs at Église Saint-François in Lausanne, Orgelpark in Amsterdam, and Malmö Konstmuseum in Sweden. Kali Malone composes with a rare clarity of vision. Her music is patient and focused, built on a foundation of evolving harmonic cycles that draw out latent emotional resonances. Time is a crucial factor: letting go of expectations of duration and breadth offers a chance to find a space of reflection and contemplation. In her hands, experimental reinterpretations of centuries-old polyphonic compositional methods become portals to new ways of perceiving sound, structure, and introspection. Though awe-inspiring in scope, the most remarkable thing about Malone's music is the intimacy stirred by the close listening it encourages. Malone's new album All Life Long, created between 2020 - 2023, presents her first compositions for organ since 2019's breakthrough album The Sacrificial Code alongside interrelated pieces for voice and brass performed by Macadam Ensemble and Anima Brass. Over the course of twelve pieces, harmonic themes and patterns recur, presented in altered forms and for varied instrumentation. They emerge and reemerge like echoes of their former selves, making the familiar uncanny. Propelled by lungs and breath rather than bellows and oscillators, Malone's compositions for choir and brass take on expressive qualities that complicate the austerity that has defined her work, introducing lyricism and the beauty of human fallibility into music that has been driven by mechanical processes. At the same time, the works for organ, performed by Malone with additional accompaniment by Stephen O'Malley on four different organs dating from the 15th to 17th centuries, underscore the mighty, spectral power that those rigorous operations can achieve. All Life Long simmers in an ever-shifting tension between repetition and variation. The pieces for brass, organ, and voice are alternated asymmetrically, providing nearly continuous timbral fluctuation across its 78-minute runtime even as thematic material reiterates. Each composition's internal framework of fractal pattern permutations has the paradoxical effect of creating anticipated keystone moments of dramatic reverie and lulling the listener into believing in an illusory endlessness. On an even more granular level, the historical meantone tuning systems of each organ used, and the variable intonation of brass and voice, provide further points of emotional excavation within the harmony. The titular composition "All Life Long" appears twice on the album, first as an extended canon for organ and again in the final quarter, compactly arranged for voice In the latter, Malone pairs the music with "The Crying Water" by Arthur Symons, a poem steeped in language of mourning and eternity. For organ, "All Life Long" moves with a patient stateliness, the drama concentrated in moments when shifting tonalities generate and release dissonance and ecstasy. For voice, each word is saturated with feeling, the singers swooping gracefully downward to capture the melancholy of the narrator's relationship to the timeless tears of the sea. "Passage Through The Spheres," the album's opening piece, contains lyrics in Italian pulled from Giorgio Agamban's essay In Praise of Profanation. In it, Agamban defines profanation as, in part, the act of bringing back to communal, secular use that which has been segregated to the realm of the sacred, a process Malone enacts each time she performs on church organs. This is not music of praise, or of spiritual revelation, but it is an artistic enactment of translating the indescribable. It carries the gravity of liturgical chant, and its fixation on the infinite, but draws its weight from the earthly realm of human experience. A music that draws the listener into the present moment where they can discover themselves within the interwoven musical patterns that can come to resemble the passage of days, weeks, years, a lifetime.

Pünktlich zum 30-jährigen Bandjubiläum präsentieren KADAVERFICKER ihr neues Album "Superkiller (A Musical Journey Between Life And Death)", ein musikalisches und lyrisches Manifest, auf dem sie den bisherigen Weg der Band mit allen Höhen und Tiefen reflektieren.

Das 30-jährige Bestehen einer Band ist ein Zeitpunkt, der Anlass zum Reflektieren gibt.
Zurück auf eine Reise, die - nicht ungleich dem Weg von der Wiege zum Grab - sowohl von Tälern des Leidens als auch von Höhen der Ekstase geprägt ist.

Pünktlich zum 30-jährigen Bandjubiläum präsentieren KADAVERFICKER ihr neues Album "Superkiller (A Musical Journey Between Life And Death)", ein musikalisches und lyrisches Manifest, auf dem sie den bisherigen Weg der Band mit allen Höhen und Tiefen reflektieren.

Das 30-jährige Bestehen einer Band ist ein Zeitpunkt, der Anlass zum Reflektieren gibt.
Zurück auf eine Reise, die - nicht ungleich dem Weg von der Wiege zum Grab - sowohl von Tälern des Leidens als auch von Höhen der Ekstase geprägt ist.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

In the five years since Creep Show’s acclaimed Mr Dynamite album was released it’s fair to say that we’ve all been through a fair bit. Sitting here, in 2023, things don’t seem to be getting any better. There’s the cost of living crisis and political meltdowns; we're in deep water with global warming and to top it all there’s a war on our doorstep.

Back in 2018 everything seemed less complicated. Sure, there was stuff to get riled about, but we knew nothing about what was to come. Mr Dynamite was a fairground ride into the dark corners of a world that was on the brink of being blitzed in a blender. It was a record teetering on the edge. Five years down the line you’d expect the follow-up, Yawning Abyss, would double-down and bring the white-knuckled, teeth-gritted fury of the last five years to the boil. And yet….

A quick recap? No problem. Wrangler + John Grant = Creep Show. And Creep Show? “A band of musical misfits who have found a voice or two”, says Wrangler’s Ben “Benge” Edwards, whose Bond villain studio on the edge of a moorland is Creep Show Grand Central as well as home to an analogue synth arsenal that could sink ships.

Wrangler have known each other for a while. Tunng’s electronics wizard Phil Winter and Cabaret Voltaire’s trailblazing, pioneering frontman Stephen Mallinder go way back, while Phil and Benge crossed paths in the 21st century when they seemed to be increasingly in the same venues at the same times. Meanwhile, Mal had been living in Australia since the mid-90s and when, in 2007, he returned to the UK his old pal Phil suggested he meet Benge and the three of them immediately began working together.

Wrangler collectively bumped into Grant at their soundcheck for Sheffield’s Sensoria Festival in 2014 where they were playing with Carter Tutti. A friendship blossomed and when they were invited to perform together for Rough Trade’s 40th anniversary show at London’s Barbican in 2016, well, they jumped at the chance... and Creep Show was born.

Let’s talk about the new album... What is the ‘Yawning Abyss’? You might well ask. According to Mal, it’s “a cosmic event horizon that I can see from my attic window when stand on a chair”. Yeah. Thanks.

“On this album”, offers Benge, feet firmly on the floor, “Wrangler wrangled some vintage synths, mostly Roland, Moog, and the ‘Crystal Machine’ - then John Grant joined in the fun at Memetune Studios where lots of musical experiments were carried out. Then Mal and John ran off to Iceland with the master tapes and recorded a load of madcap vocals. Back at Memetune, me and Phil were left to try and make sense of it all. Which wasn’t hard because what they did in Iceland was totally magnificent.”

Which kind of brings us back to where we began. You’d imagine ‘Yawning Abyss’ would be blowing steam out of its furious ears. Mr Dynamite but kicking a wasps nest. Repeatedly. And yet…

Opener ‘The Bellows’ comes on like a modular ‘Radio Ga Ga’, the singalong ‘Moneyback’ (“You want your money back? / I didn’t think so”) sounds like Godley & Creme’s ‘Snack Attack’ meets Prince Charles And The City Beat Band (“Pennies, pounds, dollar bills, signed agreements, death wills”). ‘Yahtzee!’ is an unhinged electro breakdance party in four minutes and nine seconds.

Where Mr Dynamite was menace, a mélange of mangled voices, with Grant and Mallinder being heavily treated, pitched up or down, rendering their contributions largely indistinguishable, Yawning Abyss takes a more direct approach. You hesitate to say feelgood, but there’s a skip in the step here for sure.

The title track plays John Grant’s vocal straight. Completely. It’s good, so very good. Like ‘Axel F’ covered by Vangelis. The delicious shimmering synths of ‘Bungalow’ also plays those Grant pipes with a straight bat. ‘Matinee’ delves into darker, very funky territory. With Mal upfront it comes on like ‘The Crackdown’. Choice lyric: “You are starting to breakdown / And it’s so fun for me to see / You should have thought of that / You should have come prepared / You can see what’s happening and you look a little scared”.

So, you know, not all feelgood. But it does feel good. It’s probably best to draw your own conclusions... This is Creep Show after all.

***BACK IN PRINT ON TRANSLUCENT GREEN VINYL!!! Originally released as a 10-inch in 1991, Eggnog is a wild ride into the outer limits of Melvins-dom. The first side cuts loose with three quick blasts. “Wispy” has the Lorax (Lori Temple Black) on bass and Dale Crover on drums, pounding one note in unison while Buzz Osborne bellows and whispers and turns his guitar on and off. “Antitoxidote” is a rabid horse galloping off into the desert, with yet more stops and starts and feedback detonations. “Hog Leg” sounds like a syphillitic Jimmy Swaggert trying to mimic Dio while being backed by a drunken ZZ Top cover band. Side Two features the side-long epic “Charmicarmicat,” with seasick waves of guitar and slow-motion madness bringing communicable disease and poisonous jellyfish ashore, stinging and infecting the unsuspecting sunbathers before gently washing out to sea again.

Pauline Oliveros' The Wanderer is available on LP for the first time since it was originally released in 1984. Cut at Golden and pressed at RTI for maximum fidelity.

An utterly essential document of early American minimalism from this Pauline Oliveros. The Wanderer is the sister record to Accordion & Voice, also available on LP from Important Records.

The Wanderer is based on a single modal scale (B C# D D# E F# G#) and rhythmic modes based on a meter consisting of ¾ and ⅜. Part I, Song, is intended to explore the unique resonant qualities of accordion reeds through long sounds. Subtle variations come about from differences in tuning and air pressure. Part II, Dance, demonstrates the sharp accenting power of the accordion bellows in a mixture of cross-rhythms characteristic of jigs, reels, batucadas, Bulgars, klezmer forms, Cajun dances, and music of other diverse cultures.

The Wanderer was composed in November, 1982 especially for the Springfield Accordion Orchestra, directed by Sam Falcetti. This recording documents The Wanderer's world premiere, as it was performed 27 January, 1983 at Marymount Manhattan Theatre. The orchestra consists of twenty accordions, two bass accordions, and five percussionists, with Pauline Oliveros as soloist, Sam Falcetti conducting.

Horse Sings From Cloud, written in 1975, is one of Oliveros' best known works. Like most of her Sonic Meditations, it can be performed vocally and/or instrumentally, solo or in collaboration. A solo version of Horse Sings From Cloud has been recorded on Accordion & Voice. An early version of the score reads, “Sustain a tone or sound until any desire to change it disappears. When there is no longer any desire to change the tone or sound, then change it.” This time, Horse Sings From Cloud is performed in ensemble. Joining Pauline Oliveros on bandoneon are Heloise Gold on Harmonium, Julia Haines on accordion, and Linda Montano on concertina. This quartet version incorporates the microtonal differences in tuning of the selected instruments, creating shimmering reed sounds somewhat similar to the shimmering of a Balinese gamelan.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

Wisconsin musician Jon Mueller is inquisitive. Open to pushing his
experience and his limits, he’s demonstrated the many sides of himself both as a solo performer and as a key member in mind-bending projects like Mind Over Mirrors, Volcano Choir, and Death Blues, or by running his shop of curiosities Within Things.
On his new four-piece collection Family Secret, the experimental musician maintains a meticulous, sustained tension, re-engaging with a technique he developed as an adolescent - reframing the environs of creation, and naturally altering his perception, through changes in light and space - while also considering the role of family and divorce.
Gentle, metallic bellows fade in and shifting timbres immerse the listener, each wave of sound folding atop the previous. Mueller has created a room, or at least an enclosure.

"Aix" is an outstanding piece of work by Italian electro-acoustic savant Giuseppe Ielasi, originally released in 2009 on Taylor Deupree's 12k label, the follow-up to 2007’s "August" (12k) and Ielasi's first collaboration with Nicola Ratti as "Bellows", also out in 2007 (Kning Disk). Originally only released on CD (12k), the album got a very limited vinyl issue on Czech label Minority Records in 2010. Keplar presents this extraordinary and timeless collection of 9 evocative minimalist soundscapes on vinyl again after 10 years.

From the original press release in 2009:

"With Aix we see Ielasi building his layered, atmospheric music around rhythmic grids. Most of the time these are quite irregular and the pulses are not neccessarily stable or clear. Where his previous work approached sound in a linear fashion Aix imposes a strong vertical development with the aforementioned grid and a production consisting of ons and offs, employing as much improvisation as Ielasi’s previous work, but in a different way.
Despite the self-imposed grid structure, Aix relies heavily on randomization. Not in the traditional sense of sound placement but instead of the spatialization of sounds, echoes, reverbs and the stereo image. As a result, Aix has an amazing sense and clarity of space as the small fragments of sound breathe and find their own place in the mix, thanks to Ielasi’s sublime skills as a mixer and engineer.
Ielasi relied heavily on numerous short samples and combining them in ways that fell into his groove; some found from others' recordings and many more recorded during the past year. We hear fragments of percussive (acoustic) objects, drums, piano, trumpet, guitar, and, of course, synthetic textures. Although there is a distinct rhythmic pulse to Aix, Ielasi manages to mold it into something wonderfully languid and warm... and strangely inviting."

Composed and recorded by Giuseppe Ielasi in Aix-en-Provence, Autumn 2008. Remaster by Giuseppe Ielasi. Cover photograph "Construction, Barcelona" by Taylor Deupree. Layout by Dan Dudarec/Marco Ciceri.

For more than 20 years Giuseppe Ielasi has been releasing his recordings on labels like Erstwhile Records, Häpna, Kning Disk, Dekorder, 12k, Entr'acte or Editions Mego, as well as on his own label Senufo Editions.

The label Keplar has been on a long hiatus and is now back with its KeplarRev series presenting vinyl re-issues of essential electronic albums from the 90's and 00's, as well as new recordings by momentous electronic and ambient artists.

M Parent brings us a soundtrack of American dystopia, one that gives a pointed sonic voice to the bubbling frustrations and anxieties of our time. While American politics play out like a circus on the world stage, M Parent responds to the question of what it means to be American through dirty acid riffs
and eerie electro synth stabs. The album opens up with the title track where a deep voice bellows, “The American Dream was a lie,” setting the stage for what comes next. A warped sense of reality bubbles over in Lose Your Mind, as a wailing electric guitar plays a distorted rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. On the track They Gave You What, a glitched out 808 breakbeat unwinds as
psychedelic paranoia sets in over a stiff melodic hook.

But it’s not all doom and gloom, as it wouldn’t be a complete encapsulation of the American dream without a sense of hope. Balancing the LP out are playful tracks and aural details that keep the American tradition of funk alive. Fucked Acid offers a bright acid track with a funky falsetto synth line.
At the album’s cheeky climax, Electric Snake, a reptilian beast is lured out with 808 toms and beat back by unrelenting snare rolls. Maniacal laughter and an acidic bubbly lead race towards the album’s conclusion in the track Get In. The LP finishes with Groovy, an uplifting track that adds a fragile sense
of optimism.

Fifth part of the Strata-East Dolphy Series, Glass Bead Games is arguably the crown jewel of the Strata East movement, an amorphous genre that treads an unusual path between post-bop, 70's avant-garde and spiritual jazz, with a groove.

Glass Bead Games is full of revelations at many levels. First, the decade of the 1970s did produce genuinely creative, "human" new music flowing from the jazz mainstream; second, Bill Lee was more than Spike's dad: he was a superlative bassist, a team player of the first order, a powerful catalyst who, if anything, deserves to be better known than his son; third, Billy Higgins was, as so many musicians insist, a once-in-a-lifetime drummer—the bellows inspiriting the collective flame.

Most importantly, Clifford Jordan was an artist of the first order, his playing so effortless and unforced, unselfconscious and focused, mature and wise that, at a time when altissimo fury was all the rage, it's small wonder his authentic voice frequently went unheard. His musical rhetoric is so personally expressive, its substance so compelling, the listener couldn't care less about the extraordinary technique required to convey its captivating message. Compared to some of his more acclaimed peers he's a less aggressive yet paradoxically more directive and shaping influence. The climaxes, rather than spelled out, are merely suggested, registering with deep and lasting impact on the listener. It all comes down to learning the language, those precious little beads. Not every player, including Jordan or the listener, can use it like Shakespeare, but all can learn to read Shakespeare and understand its principles of arbitrariness and serendipity, of invariance and transformation.

Jordan, no less than Shakespeare, requires a like-minded cast of players—in this case four musicians of such redoubtable proficiency that each remains committed to keeping the beads in play. He's not a man content with a mere musical "dialogue" with his fellow musicians nor is he about to take the initiative in pulling his troops up to his level. Instead he begins to tell a musical story that's so compelling his three comrades are inspired equally to contribute to a collaborative narrative. This is brilliant music-making by a Coltrane- influenced successor who feels no obligation to mime the predecessor. It may be the most significant saxophone performance on record since Coltrane and, providing the listener stays with it for any length of time, the most deeply satisfying. Jordan's game—so effortless, unforced, and "level"—erases distinctions between composed and improvised, soloist and ensemble, narrator and narrative, the dancer and the dance. It seems incapable of wearing out its welcome.

By Samuel Chell/All About Jazz

Presenting 'Envelope'. Album written, produced & mixed by Milan W. and pressed on 180g vinyl, by Ekster. Coming out on the 6th of June 2018, with foil-stamped cover-drawing by Gerard Herman. Mastered & cut by Helmut Erler at Dubplates & Mastering.
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Milan W (AKA Milan Warmoeskerken) is an Antwerp-based musician. In 2015 he released the Slo Mo cassette, on local label JJ Funhouse. The Intact LP a year later. Compositions constructed from gentle, yet persistent, rhythms. Intricately textured downtempo echoes. Brain-dancing, rather than four-to-the-floor raving. 2017`s split with Ekolalis, for The Hague`s BAKK, made clear the direction Milan`s headed in. His contribution being a seventeen minute float. The kick largely removed. The textures cut-up, expanded and magnified. Envelope, for Ekster, builds on this work.

The harlequin turns the handle. The contraption sucks in air, and breathes. Blows out tone poems. Wordless ballads that soundtrack enchanted scenarios. Issues forth magic. A sorcerer`s apprentice casting its spell. Animating the inanimate. To everything a life. Sets the frozen fluttering. Pirouetting in red shoes. Illuminates what was dark. Astma sings a Gamelan lullaby. Summons comforting angels to a post-Industrial landscape. Glaasjes has Jazz ghosts inhabit an empty bar room. Spirits stealing excuse-me`s under its deserted spot. In Limbo amplifies their whispers. Lead soldiers court jewellery-box ballerinas behind shuttered shop fronts. On Heraldic Snippets, a tin infantry marches. Ten thousand men up to the top, and back down again. Keys make-believing that they are massed brass and fife.

The bellows pump, and the pipes all the while wheezing. An automaton philharmonic at the bidding of a steam-punk master. Analogue and digital. Clockwork and glitch. Malady finds sounds isolated, extrapolated, mutated. Orchestral`s organ-grinder moves with urgency, and alchemy. Spinning straw into gold. Snare rolls become bubbling mercury. Metallic, yet fluid. Racing at the speed of flight and escape. Slope is the music of water chasing through crystal caves. Slow Runner, a funeral crawl. Shoved into motion by a drama of strings remembered.
Like the charismatic Rat-Catcher of Hamelin, the harlequin turns the handle, and we bang the cup.

Mondo Groove celebrates Italo-Disco in fine style delighting us with the most important tunes from the legendary Phantom Records; a ride deep into the world of the label that has not only produced renowned music, but has been acknowledged as a serious influence on modern disco sounds. Emerging in the late 70's to early 80s, Italo bridged the gap between disco and house, and was a staple of seminal Chicago DJs like Frankie Knuckles (who pioneered many of the drum machines and synths that are still in use today).

I-Robots, a true connoisseur of the genre, hailing from the Piedmont area of Italy, curated and carefully selected the tracks on this compilation.

This eleven track collection features originals and rarities, officially repressed here for the first time, and 2 tracks re-edited by I-Robots. The LP comes with the original Phantom Records logo on the front, scans of original 7-inch and LPs covers, as well as photos of the era on the back.
The sequence begins with "Come with me" by Carlotto. Roberto Carlotto was a keyboard player and singer who was very active since the 1960s. His solo recording career began in 1971 with a 7-inch release, and was followed by the progressive rock cult album "Dedicato a Giovanna G." signed under the pseudonym Hunka Munka. At the time he was distinguished by its remarkable technique and the high quality of its equipment that included an incredible number of keyboards and even the first examples of electronic measures. "Come with me" is an astounding unique Rock-Disco tune pressed only on 7-inch and highlights all of its instrumental and vocal prowess in a tight rhythm.
Comet Music Hall also came out as a 7-inch as a promotional edition for the homonymous discoteque - a kind of psychedelic-disco still currently produced by Enzo Draghi, a key figure of the Phantom, among others.
Roberto Ferracin is the man behind the Music One project, the name by which he produced only one LP of short electro-disco jingles. Included here are four of the most powerful cuts.
Every Italo Funk-Disco collector knows "Radio Cosmo 101", a soulful jazzy-disco-funk number produced by the homonymous radio station that was based in Alessandria in 1975, and spawned from the mind of Tony De Giglio, his two brothers, and a group of friends. At the end of 1974, Tony saw "American Graffiti", which instilled the desire to create a free radio format which became very popular in Italy. The programming took place at De Giglio's house and the wavelength was, in fact, 101 Mhz. The show immediately became quite popular, with programming that began in the morning at 10am and ended at 11pm. Included in this LP are the vocal and instrumental versions, as well as a long-version edit by I-Robots.
Don Luigi Bernini is a Piedmontese priest who has devoted his life to music. His father played the organ in church, and in those days the electric organ did not exist, therefore the father used little Luigi to push the bellows. The boy soon learned to play it as well. He then entered the seminary but continued to study music and graduated from the Vivaldi Conservatory of Alessandria in piano and choral composition. Later, he became a teacher of music education at the State School. He was introduced into the world of pop music by producers Riccardi & Albertelli and debuted with a single in 1977. Of his discography, his most interesting work is undoubtedly the weird "Telepatia" of 1979 - an experimental album, electronic, psychedelic, with the theme of good and evil always in the foreground. Featured in this collection is 'Whirlwind', which was recorded by Roberto Ferracin (Music One) and Enzo Draghi.
For all Italo maniacs!

Granny13 opens with Nicola Ratti's 'Odd Doubt'. With the use of a modular system and tape loops, a broken rhythm is obtained by parallelism between single sound signals as LFO one or processed tapes.On the second side, Giovanni Lami's 'Johnny Leech' is made with a small bunch of equipment, just a chaotic hand-made synth (cacophonator) and a memoryman, working mainly on static electricity and leakage current in the synth used without any kind of power supply.

Reviews

The Wire
''Two Italian mucisians share a split single of glitchy fun and everyone goes some happy. Lami s piece uses a defective unplugged synthesizer to make huzzing chitters that have a kind of rhythm in spots. Ratti s contribution is a bit more structured it sounds like a record of accordion miniatures broken into pieces, then glued back together with little pieces of felt stuck onto it. Which would definitely be a pretty hep thing to hear.''

Textura
''Some releases qualify as art objects as much as musical collections, a case in point this recent seven-inch vinyl outing featuring material by Nicola Ratti on one side and Giovanni Lami on the other. That shouldn't be interpreted to mean that the musical content isn't worthy of one's time, as it assuredly is, but more to emphasize how striking the sleeve artwork by Opora is and how effectively it complements the musical content.Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and issued in an edition of 150 copies, the release opens with Odd Doubt, a concise experimental setting by the Milan-born Ratti, who's issued material on labels such as Anticipate, Preservation, Die Schachtel, and Entr'acte and who's presently working with Ielasi in the project Bellows, with Attila Faravelli as Faravelliratti, and with Enrico Malatesta and Faravelli in ~Tilde. Though Ratti started out as a guitar player, his current focus is more on beat-analog experimentation and sound installation. In Odd Doubt, Ratti's modular system and tape loops generate broken rhythms that varyingly call to mind dub-techno, even if dub-techno of an extremely wonky variety. Off-beat chords, crackle, and snare strikes add to the dubwise flavour of the material, though ultimately it registers as more of an experimental exploration than straight-up dub exercise.The flip side features Johnny Leech by Lami, a one-time photographer now known as both a field recordist and a musician focusing on soundscaping and sound-ecology. In his contribution to the seven-inch, Lami's chaotic hand-made synth (cacophonator) and memoryman give birth to blustery smears of static electricity that ultimately mutate into an Oval-like array of ripples and scratches. Johnny Leech is so removed from anything conventionally musical, it makes Odd Doubt sound like a Top 40 pop song. Like Ratti's piece, Lami's is short, so short, in fact, it gives the impression of being an excerpt from a larger sound art work. Here's a release where the abstract nature of the musical content matches its visual presentation.December 2014''

Vital Weekly 951
''Granny Records is from Greece, but the two musicians here are from Italy, of which I don't I heard from Giovanni Lami before. His piece is called 'Johnny Leech' and he uses a hand-made synth known as the cacophonator and a memory man (a delay machine), 'working mainly on static electricity and leakage current in the synth used without any kind of power supply'. It makes up for a nice piece of chaotic lo-fi sound, which is put forward through methods of improvisation. Quite a nice piece and it fits the format very well. The crackling of vinyl surely adds an extra layer. Nicola Ratti uses a modular synth and tape loops, of what seems to be percussive material, but the rhythm is broken down and the whole thing has a nice gentle feel to it, even when it bumps, clicks and glides, but the synth makes it more subtle. Here too one could say this perfect for a 7": one doesn't have the idea that this is cut from a longer part as is not unusual with this kind music. Especially Ratti seems to have worked out his music as a composition, which is very nice. (FdW)''Vital Weekly 951''Granny Records is from Greece, but the two musicians here are from Italy, of which I don't I heard from Giovanni Lami before. His piece is called 'Johnny Leech' and he uses a hand-made synth known as the cacophonator and a memory man (a delay machine), 'working mainly on static electricity and leakage current in the synth used without any kind of power supply'. It makes up for a nice piece of chaotic lo-fi sound, which is put forward through methods of improvisation. Quite a nice piece and it fits the format very well. The crackling of vinyl surely adds an extra layer. Nicola Ratti uses a modular synth and tape loops, of what seems to be percussive material, but the rhythm is broken down and the whole thing has a nice gentle feel to it, even when it bumps, clicks and glides, but the synth makes it more subtle. Here too one could say this perfect for a 7": one doesn't have the idea that this is cut from a longer part as is not unusual with this kind music. Especially Ratti seems to have worked out his music as a composition, which is very nice. (FdW)''Vital Weekly 951''Granny Records is from Greece, but the two musicians here are from Italy, of which I don't I heard from Giovanni Lami before. His piece is called 'Johnny Leech' and he uses a hand-made synth known as the cacophonator and a memory man (a delay machine), 'working mainly on static electricity and leakage current in the synth used without any kind of power supply'. It makes up for a nice piece of chaotic lo-fi sound, which is put forward through methods of improvisation. Quite a nice piece and it fits the format very well. The crackling of vinyl surely adds an extra layer. Nicola Ratti uses a modular synth and tape loops, of what seems to be percussive material, but the rhythm is broken down and the whole thing has a nice gentle feel to it, even when it bumps, clicks and glides, but the synth makes it more subtle. Here too one could say this perfect for a 7": one doesn't have the idea that this is cut from a longer part as is not unusual with this kind music. Especially Ratti seems to have worked out his music as a composition, which is very nice. (FdW)''