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High Roller Records, Splatter Vinyl, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, poster

In Cornish slang it is said that things get done ‘dreckly’; that is, not now, not necessarily tomorrow, but, at some indefinite point...in the future...soon...

Fitting then that when Bristol’s Langkamer decamped to their de facto home-from-home in the picturesque south-west seaside town of Falmouth to record their third album in as many years (with an EP thrown in there too) - there was no particular need to rush things: “The process was much slower and more considered for Langzamer.”, drummer/vocalist Josh Jarman explains: “The first two albums felt pretty urgent, and each was finished in about 6 months, but this one feels a lot more deliberate. It’s taken us two years to get this done.”

Equally fitting too that Langzamer kicks off proceedings with ‘Heart of Tin’: the first bars are languidly lugubrious, so deliciously plucked-out and scuzzed-up that they linger in the air like passing smoke, magically, slowing time down to their own assured and steady will. And in so much time, that also feels like no time at all, comes an opening line of such stark, disarming confessionalism as might be found in the David Berman/Silver Jews songbook: “Do you want the good news or the bad news first? // They’re both bad news, but the bad is worse” It’s Langkamer in a nutshell: embattled, heart-on-sleeve Slacker Rock slaked with twinges of fret-sliding Americana, yet deeply embedded in the folk mythologies, colloquialisms and experiences of the band’s West Country roots.

Throughout Langzamer, confronting the listener again and again is this conflict between the band’s breezy, melodic charm, and the threat of something more sinister lurking in the undergrowth. While those more familiar with Langkamer’s oeuvre to date will have already come to know and love their often self-deprecating yet witty lyricism, the songs on Langzamer take this trademark ebullient gloominess to more challenging plains: “Principally this is an album about grief, and everything that entails...” explains Jarman. “in a sense death brought these songs to life.”

This thread is felt no more so than on ‘Salvation XL’. Inspired by a “particularly bad batch of food poisoning I had in Morocco”, Jarman explains, and beginning with the memorable opening line, “Jesus came to me a Burger King in Marrakech”, the band wind their way through the ‘big topics’: death and God.

“This trip was shortly after a few of my friends had passed away, and I think a lot of my thoughts and actions at that time were being influenced by my grief without me realising it.”, he explains, “Whenever I dwell on grief, and how death has given my life a new context, I come back to that. The ongoing battle between agnosticism and atheism. I wasn’t raised in a very strict religious home, but I come from a long line of methodists, and it’s interesting to think about the way theism and religion have shaped my life without me knowing it. I think that’s being channelled on this album a lot. The uncertainty that comes with disbelief.”

Our collective mortal frailties are also felt on lead single ‘Richard E Grant’. With a trademark bittersweetness, a track that begins as an appreciation of the actor’s humorous social media presence unfolds as a study on “finding healthy coping strategies to deal with loss.”. Elsewhere, ‘At The Lake’ - to the tune of mournful, folk-like balladry - explores binge-drinking culture and the troubled association between unhealthy behaviour and creativity. The listener is left in no mind as to the meaning behind the references to James Joyce and Janis Jopin as “souvenirs stolen from the dark”.

With themes as weighty as these strewn across the album’s 10 tracks, It seemed like a particularly astute move then for the band to personally approach Ben Woods, founder of the Golden Dregs, to assist on production duties. Not only would the delicate intimacies of Woods’ main project - see 2023’s On Grace & Dignity for reference - add an appropriate moodiness, but Woods was also born and raised in Cornwall, where the album was recorded; amidst “eating pasties” and breaks by the sea, Woods and the band transformed the vaults underneath iconic Falmouth venue The Cornish Bank into a makeshift studio for a weeks’ worth of recording. Occasionally friends would drop by to lighten the load; Zander Sharp tracking violin on ’Double Island’ and ‘Flight’; Josh Law and Ben Sadler of Breakfast Records labelmates Getdown Services, both of whom contribute to the soul-stirring ‘mountain’ chorus on ‘Aberfan’.

When compared to the brightness of 2023’s The Noon and Midnight Manual, Woods’ influence on the record seems indisputable. On the aforementioned ‘At The Lake’, for instance, which features backing vocals from Woods. Or, most acutely, on the piano strains of harrowing closer ‘Bluff’, a track with such chilling, spectral severity as to effect the band’s most heartbreaking effort to date. While it’s particularly sombre note on which end proceedings, it's also an appropriate one: Langzamer bravely stands tall as their most restrained, matured, and sincere collection to date. And almost by virtue of its impeccable honesty, those moments of sunshine-joy that creep through the cracks feel that much more golden.

Earlier this year we were excited to announce the return of one of our most beloved bands of recent years: New Street Adventure. To mark the 10th Anniversary of their debut album ‘No Hard Feelings’, on 4 October we are releasing a special, limited edition olive green colour vinyl reissue. The release will coincide with an extensive UK tour.

‘About eighteen months ago, someone asked if I had a spare vinyl copy of ‘No Hard Feelings’. I checked the shelves, and found my own copy and no more. I checked Discogs and saw that it was changing hands for far more than an 8-year-old album should be. Released in the pre-vinyl-revival years, its limited original pressing means that demand is now out-stripping supply – a measure of just how good this record is. With that in mind Nick Corbin and I hatched a plot for a 10th Anniversary reissue, and here it is!

I loved New Street Adventure. They were smart, looked great on stage, and in Nick was one of the best front-men and songwriters I have ever worked with. With their own ecosystem of self promoted gigs, they created their own audience, and for a while it looked like a major label deal was in the offing. Eddie Piller had wanted to sign them from the first time he met Nick, and when the big deal didn’t happen, he was still there for the band as they became an Acid Jazz act in 2013.

There were endless back-and-forths on how the album should sound (and some despair that it wasn’t quite sounding as good as it should have). Then Mitch Ayling came on board to produce the final mix. He brought out the songs, lifted the playing, delivering the shiny finished recording that took its place as one of the finest moments in the Acid Jazz catalogue. Nick’s songs now sparkled. As his love of soul shone through, his politically and socially aware lyrics showed a rare, wry observational gaze that was turned on 21st Century life. From the warnings against populist hatred of ‘On Our Front Doorstep’, to the hopeless ennui of ‘Foot In The Door’, and the day-to-day pursuits of being in your twenties in a big city. Through it all shines a passion – sometimes coming out as anger – that drives the music. It is of course encapsulated in ‘The Big A.C.’, written about the night that Nick’s dad took him to the 6Ts Allnighter at the 100 Club, which brought him into the world of Northern Soul. It’s a classic that nails the feeling of excitement as well as anything written.

The album was released late in 2014 and for those who want a vinyl copy – even the CDs cost a fair penny now – we have prepared this special 10th Anniversary Edition on transparent olive-green coloured vinyl. The inner sleeve is illustrated with never-before seen photos from the archive, both candid and by early band supporter Dean Chalkley, and has sleeve notes by Nick and myself. Nick is taking New Street back on tour this Autumn, and it you would be foolish (once more) to miss either the tour or the record.’

"Sometimes you have to take sides", singt Adele Ischia im Opener des Debüts der nach ihrem Nachnamen - aber mit kleinem "i"! - benannten Band (nichts zu tun mit der gleichnamigen italienischen Vulkaninsel). Sowas nennt man wohl Statement. Da schadet auch nicht, dass "Sides" mit einem hypnotisch wabernden Gitarrenriff herein prescht, wie es einem Kevin Shields unter die Finger hätte kommen können (Ischia ist hörbar ein My Bloody Valentine-Fan, nicht die einfachste Vorgabe, die man sich als Gitarristin stellen kann). Im Februar erschien die krautrockig groovende Debüt-Single "Sleep", im September kommt das Album! In ihrem Line-Up versammeln sich Leute, die sonst mit anderen Größen der Wiener Indie-Szene auf der Bühne stehen (Endless Wellness, Yukno, Sharktank, Cousines Like Shit...). Tatsächlich sind ischia aber kein Seitenprojekt, sondern die aus jahrelanger Freundschaft und spontaner Assoziation entstandene Band rund um Frontfrau und Namensgeberin Adele Ischia. Auf ihrem Debüt-Album "Leave me to the Future" offenbart sich die breite Palette ihres Sounds, von Krautrock-Grooves bis zu Post-Shoegaze-Psychedelik, doch in dessen Kern steckt dabei stets ein melodiöser Popsong. Und ischia präsentierten einen gänzlich anderen, veritabel psychedelischen Post-Shoegaze-Pop-Sound als gewohnt gehört, entpuppen sich als Band mit breiter dynamischer Vielfalt, beseelt von einer zugänglichen Mischung aus Witz und Melancholie, ziemlich gut für eine Band, die sich erst vor etwas mehr als einem Jahr zusammengetan hat. Neben dem Release ihres Albums werden ischia dieses Jahr aus praktischen Gründen übrigens vor allem gemeinsam mit Endless Wellness auftreten. Luckily, sometimes you don't have to take sides.

"Sometimes you have to take sides", singt Adele Ischia im Opener des Debüts der nach ihrem Nachnamen - aber mit kleinem "i"! - benannten Band (nichts zu tun mit der gleichnamigen italienischen Vulkaninsel). Sowas nennt man wohl Statement. Da schadet auch nicht, dass "Sides" mit einem hypnotisch wabernden Gitarrenriff herein prescht, wie es einem Kevin Shields unter die Finger hätte kommen können (Ischia ist hörbar ein My Bloody Valentine-Fan, nicht die einfachste Vorgabe, die man sich als Gitarristin stellen kann). Im Februar erschien die krautrockig groovende Debüt-Single "Sleep", im September kommt das Album! In ihrem Line-Up versammeln sich Leute, die sonst mit anderen Größen der Wiener Indie-Szene auf der Bühne stehen (Endless Wellness, Yukno, Sharktank, Cousines Like Shit...). Tatsächlich sind ischia aber kein Seitenprojekt, sondern die aus jahrelanger Freundschaft und spontaner Assoziation entstandene Band rund um Frontfrau und Namensgeberin Adele Ischia. Auf ihrem Debüt-Album "Leave me to the Future" offenbart sich die breite Palette ihres Sounds, von Krautrock-Grooves bis zu Post-Shoegaze-Psychedelik, doch in dessen Kern steckt dabei stets ein melodiöser Popsong. Und ischia präsentierten einen gänzlich anderen, veritabel psychedelischen Post-Shoegaze-Pop-Sound als gewohnt gehört, entpuppen sich als Band mit breiter dynamischer Vielfalt, beseelt von einer zugänglichen Mischung aus Witz und Melancholie, ziemlich gut für eine Band, die sich erst vor etwas mehr als einem Jahr zusammengetan hat. Neben dem Release ihres Albums werden ischia dieses Jahr aus praktischen Gründen übrigens vor allem gemeinsam mit Endless Wellness auftreten. Luckily, sometimes you don't have to take sides.

"Sometimes you have to take sides", singt Adele Ischia im Opener des Debüts der nach ihrem Nachnamen - aber mit kleinem "i"! - benannten Band (nichts zu tun mit der gleichnamigen italienischen Vulkaninsel). Sowas nennt man wohl Statement. Da schadet auch nicht, dass "Sides" mit einem hypnotisch wabernden Gitarrenriff herein prescht, wie es einem Kevin Shields unter die Finger hätte kommen können (Ischia ist hörbar ein My Bloody Valentine-Fan, nicht die einfachste Vorgabe, die man sich als Gitarristin stellen kann). Im Februar erschien die krautrockig groovende Debüt-Single "Sleep", im September kommt das Album! In ihrem Line-Up versammeln sich Leute, die sonst mit anderen Größen der Wiener Indie-Szene auf der Bühne stehen (Endless Wellness, Yukno, Sharktank, Cousines Like Shit...). Tatsächlich sind ischia aber kein Seitenprojekt, sondern die aus jahrelanger Freundschaft und spontaner Assoziation entstandene Band rund um Frontfrau und Namensgeberin Adele Ischia. Auf ihrem Debüt-Album "Leave me to the Future" offenbart sich die breite Palette ihres Sounds, von Krautrock-Grooves bis zu Post-Shoegaze-Psychedelik, doch in dessen Kern steckt dabei stets ein melodiöser Popsong. Und ischia präsentierten einen gänzlich anderen, veritabel psychedelischen Post-Shoegaze-Pop-Sound als gewohnt gehört, entpuppen sich als Band mit breiter dynamischer Vielfalt, beseelt von einer zugänglichen Mischung aus Witz und Melancholie, ziemlich gut für eine Band, die sich erst vor etwas mehr als einem Jahr zusammengetan hat. Neben dem Release ihres Albums werden ischia dieses Jahr aus praktischen Gründen übrigens vor allem gemeinsam mit Endless Wellness auftreten. Luckily, sometimes you don't have to take sides.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

repress !

“Tubby did three original dub albums, ‘Dub From The Roots’. ‘The Roots of Dub’ and the third is ‘Brass Rockers’ with Tommy McCook ‘pon the flying cymbals. Where he mixed it with the horn going in and out in a dub way and one named ‘Shalom Dub’ you can call Tubby’s too because he mixed the versions as they were off forty fives’’
Bunny ‘Striker‘ Lee

King Tubby and Producer Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee are intertwined in the birth of Dub Music. After discovering a mistake that made a ‘serious joke’ ( more of which later...) they went on to release the first pressings of this new musical genre namely ‘Dub Music’. Tubby’s vast knowledge of electronics and Bunny’s vast catalogue of rhythms would lay the foundations of what today is taken as a standard... the Remix / Version cuts to an existing vocal tune.

Osbourne ‘King Tubby’ Ruddock was born in Kingston, Jamaica on 28th January 1941 and grew up in the High Holborn Street area of downtown Kingston. He studied electronics at Kingston’s National Technical College and also on two correspondence courses from the U.S.A... When he had qualified Tubby began repairing radios and other electrical appliances in a shack in the back yard of his mother’s home. His work in the early days included winding transformers and building amplifiers for Kingston’s Sound Systems. Tubby built his first Sound System in 1957 playing jazz and Rhythm & Blues at local weddings and birthday parties. His reputation as a man who knew and understood both electronics and music grew steadily and as the sixties drew to a close. Tubby purchased his own basic two track equipment. He installed this alongside his dub cutting machine, a home made mixing console and his impressive collection of Jazz albums in the back bedroom of his home at 18 Dromilly Avenue which he christened his music room.

Tubby and Striker were at Treasure Isle Studio’s one day while Ruddy from Spanish Town was working with the engineer Byron Smith....

“Tubby and myself was talking when Ruddy was cutting some dub but Smithy (engineer) made a mistake through we were talking and forgot to put in the voice. It was two track recording in those days. Ruddy said ‘No Man! Make it stay! and so they cut the rhythm. When I went over to Ruddy’s that Saturday night a dance was in progress and when they played the vocal to the tune... then he said we’re going to play ‘Part Two’. They never called it ‘Version’..and then he played the rhythm track. The song was a catchy song and everybody started to sing along and the deejay started to toast so everything went down well. On Monday morning I went up and I said ‘Tubbs the mistake we made was a serious joke.It mash up Spanish Town! The people went wild. So you have to start to do that now ‘cause when the man put on the ‘Part Two’ everyone start singing this song. It played about twenty times. I said you try Tubbs!’...Well the next Saturday night now when Tubby strung up down the farm U Roy said he’s going to play ‘Part Two’ but Tubby did it different now. He started with the voice then dropped it out and let the rhythm run and then he brought in the voice in the middle and from there Tubby started to get really popular.’’
Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee

Dynamic Sounds upgraded to sixteen track recording in 1972 and Tubby purchased, again with the help of a deal brokered by Bunny Lee. The old four track equipment and the MCI console from their Studio B. The four tracks now gave him far wider scope to work with and he began to create a new musical form where the bass and drum parts were brought up while the faders allowed Tubby to ease the vocal and rhythm in and out of the mix. It was only a matter of time before Tubby’s dub plate experiments began to make it on to vinyl and the first ever long playing King Tubby releases would feature a collection of his mixes to a selection of Strikers rhythms. So please sit back and enjoy this historic set of sounds. Lovingly restored and with a few extra gems added to the CD Editions. These releases were the first to carry the name of King Tubby and the first to credit the great musicians that contributed so much to the rhythms that made these albums possible.

Previously Unreleased Recording. Limited to 1200 copies on transparent cherry vinyl. Tip-on jacket, Download code. Insert featuring LP sized original art by Grungie O'Muck. Includes the original recording of Richard Tucker's "Are You Leaving For The Country", later covered by Karen Dalton, and the only song co-written by Karen & Richard, "Sleeping In The Garden". "Richard, Cam & Bert seem to have grasped The Great Harmony. That is, ensemble singing that is at once sweet, precise, funky and a bit sardonic..." -Mike Jahn / New York Times (1970) "For a few years in the late sixties and early seventies Richard Cam & Bert ruled MacDougal St. walking a fine line between the increasingly commercialized demands created by groups like Crosby Stills and Nash and the fierce integrity of earlier folk performers, the generation to which Richard belonged. They managed this with great aplomb, producing original tunes of great integrity and obvious folkloric origins, as well as those which expressed the anarchic omnipresent psychedelia of the moment. They also never abandoned the idea of including some traditional material in their performances. But for the usual random application of luck they could have been very big." - Grungie O'Muck / Artist, Bluesman, Cover artist for their first album and contributor to this one. Richard Tucker, Campbell Bruce, and Bert Lee coalesced as a trio in the spring of 1968, and by the end of that year had become regular performers at fabled Greenwich Village nightspots - The Gaslight, The Bag I'm In, Cafe Feenjon, among others. But mostly they were street singers, busking regularly in Central Park. Their only LP, Limited Edition, was released in 1970, and sold mainly at gigs and on the street. Somewhere in The Stars compiles earlier, previously unreleased recordings, when all three members were signed with Peer-Southern Music publishers as writers and began using their studio to make demos and experiment musically. Beautifully recorded by house engineer Charlie Mack (supervised by Jimmy Ienner), the demos capture a back room casualness and rustic, homespun quality. For me, listening to their songs and harmonies is like entering a world you always hoped existed but had never experienced. Some of the songs were re-recorded the following year for Limited Edition, but many are heard here for the first time. Among them is the original demo for Richard Tucker's song, "Are You Leaving For The Country", which Karen Dalton covered on her seminal 1971 release, In My Own Time. Richard and Karen were husband and wife for much of the 1960s, performing as a duo (initially as a trio with Tim Hardin), and navigating their time on the Village scene while alternating living in a small mining town outside Boulder, Co. before splitting up in 1967. Also making its debut, is the only song Richard and Karen ever wrote together, the haunting "Sleeping In The Garden". Also contains two epic songs by Cam "One Of These First Nights", and "Stockholm") not on their LP, but staples of their live performances, and noted in a gig review by The New York Times, and in a column by future A&R hero, Karin Berg, who was an early champion. Another rarity is the only cover of "Sweet Mama" by Fred Neil we've ever heard. Campell Bruce came to New York in 1967 as lead singer with a band from Washington, DC, The Natty Bumpo. They'd recently signed a record deal with Phillips, but were falling apart. Cam landed in the Village with an acoustic guitar and first started playing and singing in the basket houses, and shortly thereafter at The Gaslight, as the "Cam Bruce Trio" (which included Collin Walcott). After opening for Mose Allison, Cam's hero, the trio went their separate ways, and Cam returned to regular solo gigs at The Flamenco, and the basket houses on Bleecker. Richard and Cam met up on that scene and quickly found a musical kinship as well as becoming best pals. Bert Lee arrived in New York as a runaway the following winter, and began playing and sleeping wherever he could. His sometime accompanist, Ron Price, introduced Bert to Richard and Cam just as Bert's own songs were garnering attention from publishers. According to Bert, "I arrived on the New York scene during a time of great change, and it was the notion of change that influenced me. All around me I saw there were two sorts of songwriters, on the one hand dedicated to the traditions that had inspired them, folk, jazz, the American songbook. On the other hand were songwriters influenced by the wave of experimentation that The Beatles were the perfect example of. Mixing genres, writing lyrics that weren't just about ordinary love and loss. Richard Tucker was a country blues player, with a relaxed and melodic approach to the craft. Cam wrote something more akin to soul songs, with a hint of jazz in the changes. I was writing tunes that sometimes drew on classical structures with a tendency toward what I suppose would be known as prog-rock. But I was rather adamant about not being pinned down stylistically, and so I would write, for example, a song based on some complex classical chord structure, and then go right ahead and write a simple folk song, like Evelyn. Our band was popular locally, and it was this variety that made it distinct." Delmore is excited to present this unearthed treasure, fifteen years in the making. In the words of Richard Tucker, "Tap on your knee, roll on the floor; if you aint free, what's it all for?" "The trio's singing, playing, and writing have all withstood the test of time. Believe me, because I was there. In 1969 R,C&B, myself, Charles John Quarto, David Bromberg, Ron Price, and Keith Sykes were just a few of that year's crop of song-slingers. We were young turks back then, out on the prowl in New York's Greenwich Village for record deals, gigs, and beautiful young women to sleep with and maybe even write a song about. I've lost the names and numbers of those lovelies and I'm not sure what happened to Ron Price, but Richard, Cam, and Bert are back! - Loudon Wainwright lll

‘The Oakland band’s wide-ranging debut is a whirlwind of biting critique, nervy post-punk guitars, and absurdist humor. Rarely does a first record speak with such a trenchant voice.’ 7.5 PITCHFORK
‘Post-punk lovers have a new act to follow" - PASTE
Fake Fruit’s visceral indie rock operates so firmly in the present that it’s transportive and unmooring. The Oakland trio’s songs careen with volatile energy and lead singer Ham D’Amato’s lyrics are enveloped with acerbic humor and resonant perceptiveness. Though their new LP Mucho Mistrust is a sly reference to a beloved Blondie lyric, the title encapsulates both the anxieties of daily life, a bloodless music industry, and global capitalism as well as the clear-eyed skepticism needed to rebel against it. Across 12 propulsively unpredictable tracks, the album is both their most collaborative and most immediate yet.
Following the 2021 release of Fake Fruit’s self-titled debut LP, the band’s personal lives hit a turbulent and transformational period. “There were big life changes and I was so close to boiling over,” says D’Amato. “I left a bad relationship, entered a more stable and loving one, got diagnosed with alopecia, and I'm turning 30 soon too.” This personal upheaval was channeled into the explosive lead single “Mucho Mistrust.” The track is simultaneously disorienting and direct, with clanging guitars from Alex Post, off-kilter drums from Miles MacDiarmid, and D’Amato snarling, “How you gonna blame me / when you could’ve done something about it / it’s not right / How you gonna marinate me / in shitty things overnight.” She explains, “This song was a snapshot of how I got through a difficult year.”
Recorded live at the Bay Area’s Atomic Garden studio with producer Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Home Is Where), the band’s palpable ferocity shines throughout the record. Single “Más o Menos” is searing punk, with buzzsaw guitars and surging bass. It’s a clenched-fist song, one where D’Amato sings, “I decided to assert myself / After I lost all my sense of self.” Later in the track, D’Amato, who is Chicana, sings in Spanish, “¡No me hables! / ¡No escuchare!” While some of these songs deal in heartbreak, they are charged with way bigger themes. “There's also wanting to break up with capitalism and feeling upset about things politically,” says D’Amato.
For the band, these themes are personal. “I'm managing us while I'm in between changing diapers in my day job as a nanny,” says D’Amato. “Everyone in the band still believes in it and is motivated to keep wading through the bullshit.” On this album, they had no choice but to bet on themselves and each other. No track broadcasts their evolution better than the single “Cause of Death,” which morphs from a gorgeous sax-laden banger to something cathartic and anthemic.
As adventurous and righteous as Mucho Mistrust gets, there’s still an inviting core that never takes itself too seriously. From the ripping “Cause of Death,” which self-deprecatingly takes aim at anxiety and indecision, to the searing title track, Fake Fruit imbue their songs with humor and heart. “Our band is fun,” says D’Amato. “My number one coping mechanism for all of life is to joke about it. Even when the album talks about serious things, I am proud of how funny it can be.”

Young Marble Giants' "Colossal Youth" has mystified and beguiled audiences since its 1980 release. Seen by primary songwriter Stuart Moxham as "a last gasp" at making a record, Stuart insisted the one-off 7" deal offered by Rough Trade be altered to allow an entire album . . . that paid off when with a big seller which produces cover versions even from bands whose members were a decade or two away from being born on the album's release. When YMG disbanded, Stuart was at a loss; he'd never envisioned a follow-up. A series of experimental recordings made with pal Phil Legg (Essential Logic) and supported by other YMG members, musicians from This Heat and Swell Maps, old Cardiffian pals, and new friends like Vivien Goldman resulted in an album, "Embrace The Herd", as The Gist. Released just before Rough Trade made bold moves toward pop charts with Scritti Politti, The Smiths and others, the album was odd for its time, but has since taken on the lustre of genius. Years of silence followed, thereafter intermittently broken by the odd release from small labels. Stuart delved into family life, though he never stopped writing and recording. In more recent years, two retrospective compilation of lost recordings by The Gist have been released, as well as a superb collaboration with French arranger Louis Philippe, "The Devil Laughs". "Fabstract" is the final gathering of Stuart's lost recordings. Compiling long-lost YMG-era tracks with the recent brilliance of "Crow, Crow" and "Suburban Monochrome", through bits of whimsy and vastly alternate versions of fan faves, this diverse album shouldn't work . . . but it does, telling a satisfying story of an underrated talent whose mistake was following his muse, not the charts. This album precedes a new recording, years in the making, produced by Dave Trumfio, which promises to be Stuart's most complete - and original - work since "Colossal Youth". Tracks:

Grande Coisa! (Big Deal!). You could hear it. It is the eternal irony of life. For a composer who has been making music since he was a teenager and only at the age of 38 does he make his work public, it can indeed be a big deal. Grande Coisa, is Dorea's first authorial album, and tells his stories, the ones he lived, others he heard about, but mainly the ones he created. With all the songs composed during the most isolated period in the pandemic, the work can be dense in many moments, difficult to digest, but there are sighs. And there are stories that intersect, like those of the boys who are one and also millions, and show the artist's vision of Brazil. The disappeared, forgotten, the sad and aimless still appear. And there is the warmth of the song for a loved one or even a family partnership, between mother and son. Grande Coisa has ten songs, all written by the artist himself, one of them with lyrics adapted from an excerpt from a book written by his mother. Its musical roots are rooted in rock, but with a blatantly Brazilian gaze and interpretation. It has musical production and minimalist paths chosen by Sebastian Notini, collaborative arrangements forged in the encounter of Dorea's guitar with Seba's percussive and melodic vein and Carla Suzart's bass, and a wood weave that ends the album with the timbres of Joana Queiroz (bass clarinet and clarinet) and Leandro Tigrão (flute) under the baton of maestro Per Ekdahl.

Recorded straight on the heels of Bad Company's 1974 debut — just a matter of three months later; not quite long enough to know how big a success the first LP would be — Straight Shooter is seemingly cut from the same cloth as its predecessor. It is, after all, a tight collection of eight strong, steady, heavy rockers that never, ever proceed in a hurry, but from the moment "Good Lovin' Gone Bad" kicks off the proceedings, it's clear that Bad Company have decided to expand their palette this second time around, writes AllMusic.

The album, released in April 1975, reached No. 3 on both the U.K. Albums Chart and the U.S. Billboard 200. It was certified gold (500,000 units sold) by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) a month after its release.

The jacket for the album was designed by Hipgnosis, who also designed their debut album.

"Good Lovin' Gone Bad," was released in March 1975 and reached No. 36 on the Billboard Hot 100. The album was released in April. The album's final single "Feel like Makin' Love" was released in August and reached No. 10 on the Hot 100.

"Feel Like Makin' Love" and "Shooting Star," became classic rock staples due to this expanded aural vocabulary, and even straight-ahead rockers like "Good Lovin' Gone Bad" and "Deal with the Preacher" benefit from this additional muscle, while they feel comfortable enough to settle into a soulful groove on "Anna" and "Call on Me."

Pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in a tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket by Stoughton Printing, this is the definitive pressing of Straight Shooter and one fans of Bad Company will be proud to own.

Continue As Amery is the debut album by Montreal-based artist Amery. Formerly recording under the moniker Alpen Glow, Continue As Amery sees the songwriter step out into a bold, colourful world full of pop hooks, snagging feelings of abandon and the mornings after. Amery Sandford began releasing as Alpen Glow in 2020 after years playing in punk groups in Newfoundland and as half of Montreal pop duo Born At Midnite (Arbutus). Recorded in Montreal by David Carriere (TOPS, Marci), Patrick Holland, and Kristian North, Continue As Amery is a blast of melodic joie de vivre. On her debut Sandford brings her punk and DIY credentials into sharp focus on 8 perfect pop odes to city living, making mistakes and figuring it out as you go along. Suffuse with powerful imagery and an almost uncanny talent at spinning out hooks brimming with humour and spirit, Amery’s soundworld is informed by friendship, experience and by her day job as a renowned illustrator and visual artist. Beginning Alpen Glow in a spirit of fun and now shedding the alias, Amery’s ready to hotwire the nite. Each song is rich with story. Mountain FM, named for the radio station in Sandford’s home town in the mountains of Alberta, launches into a tale of speeding, blasting the radio too loud, the giddy burning of rubber with no care in the world to slow you down. Featuring live band members Sarah Harris, Jack Bielli, and Frank Climenhage, the singer bristles to get out of her stifling hometown while lamenting the wide eyed adventurer who left for the big city. On Hotwire The Nite, Amery is out on the town, with imagery loaded with the night’s promise. Amery sings “Black candle / Dripping intel / Dagger hanging by an emerald handle / Holy roller that I just can’t have without my hand on an old flame,” diving in and out of fantasy and desire over a pulsating banger. Moments like these feel like a thesis on aural pleasure, with the production sleek and silky playfulness persisting throughout. Spirit Is Broken is a pep talk the artist is giving herself in the mirror. Only Amery could write something so joyous and harmonically glorious while singing about low ebbs. Every line shines with humour, the chorus starting with an exasperated “oh my god, alright” and the refrain nailing the bittersweet feeling of enjoying feeling down. It’s a mood continued on slow groover Ennui, a melter striking out at being stuck; same parties, same faces, daring to dream beyond. As an illustrator and visual artist, Sandford’s images detail dancing instrument-clad animals, party scenes that nod to historical image making heavy hitters like Hieronymus Bosch and Ludwig Bemelmans. On Miracles, Amery deals in bold pop production and her yearning to escape into fantasy, given wings by Korgs and drum machines. On Rocker Blues, originally by French artist FR David, Amery brings the heavy with synth-guitar and an undeniable chorus. C9 is in some ways the album’s centrepiece, a mid tempo funk jam and duet with Montreal stalwart Fireball Kid, it’s the party just out of reach on the horizon. The thing about Cloud 9 is that on the comedown you might get a hella lot of rain. The world Amery builds is intoxicating, rich and most importantly open for anyone to fall into. To be continued…

Dedicated to the power of pop music, Sobs are Singapore’s premier indiepop propagandists. After releasing a breakout bedroom pop EP Catflap and a dream-jangle LP Telltale Signs that brought international embrace, Sobs now assemble a front-to-back indiepop behemoth – Air Guitar – after a much anticipated three-year wait.

A thirty-minute trip for the post-Internet consumer, Air Guitar calibrates inventive pop hooks for the indie rock lover, instantly accessible yet intricately arranged. The album draws a line through the history of pop stylistics from 80s new wave ("Last Resort") and 90s power-pop ("Burn Book") to 00s sk8er punk and radio pop ("Air Guitar"). Further informed by the cosmopolitan, culturally astute ethos of PC Music – Sobs connects the uptempo of Shibuya’s Advantage Lucy ("Lucked Out"), heart-on-sleeve indie rock of Bettie Serveert and Big Star ("World Implode"), with the eclecticism of New York’s Darla Records ("Friday Night") to define the pulse of indiepop then and now.










[i] B5 Cool (Gwen Stefani Cover) [Bonus Track]

"Den Bildschirm zur Verbrechensbekämpfung einzusetzen, das, meine Damen und Herren, ist der Sinn unserer neuen Sendereihe Aktenzeichen XY Ungelöst, die ich Ihnen heute vorstellen möchte." Mit diesen Worten begrüßte Eduard Zimmermann am 20. Oktober 1967 die Zuschauer des Zweiten Deutschen Fernsehens. Es war die erste Ausgabe eines neuen Sendeformats das, so weiß man heute, (Fernseh-)Geschichte schreiben sollte.

Die Idee zu diesem Projekt kam der Tramp Mannschaft, wie so oft, eher zufällig in den Sinn. Es war Ende der 1980er Jahre, als wir zum ersten Mal Eduard Zimmermann am Bildschirm bestaunten. Damals war offensichtlich nicht die Musik ausschlaggebend, sondern das Gesamtpaket XY. Zum einen der sachliche Moderationsstil des Protagonisten, zum anderen die spannenden, jedoch immer behutsam produzierten Filmbeiträge von Kurt Grimm. Die XY Fan-Gemeinde ist sich einig, dass durch seine außergewöhnliche Regiearbeit der filmischen Rekonstruktion der Fälle maßgeblich zum Erfolg von XY beigetragen hat. Des Weiteren waren es die Sprecher der Filmbeiträge, allen voran Wolfgang Grönebaum, der zwischen 1967-1989 mit seiner markanten Stimme des öfteren für Gänsehautmomente bei den Zuschauern sorgte. All das würde aber ohne die passende Begleitmusik nicht funktionieren. Und so ist das letzte Puzzlestück welches XY den Kultstatus einbrachte die Kompositionen die für die Filmbeiträge benutzt wurden.

Nun fndet sich auf dieser (Bio*-)Schallplatte aber keineswegs Musik von XY aus den 1980er Jahren. Wie ihr wisst schlägt das Tramp Herz, bis auf wenige Ausnahmen, für die Musik der '60er und '70er. Als wir vor einigen Jahren auf XY-Folgen der Anfangszeit stießen war schnell klar: da muss eine Schallplatte her! Und genau diese kann man nun als Resultat unserer Leidenschaft in den Händen halten. Längst überfällig möchte man meinen. Ein besonderer Dank geht hierbei an den Komponisten Ernst-August Quelle aus dessen Hand alle Titel auf diesem Album stammen.

Eduard Zimmermann hat mit Aktenzeichen XY... Ungelöst Fernsehgeschichte geschrieben. Wir, die Tramp Crew, ist mehr als stolz ihm und seinen Fans mit dieser Schallplatte ein Denkmal gesetzt zu haben. Gern geschehen.

*Die LP stellt die erstmalige Veröffentlichung aller Titel auf Tonträger dar und erscheint in einer limitierten, handnummerierten Auflage von 500 Stück, gepresst auf BIO-VINYL (Ersatz von Erdöl in S-PVC durch Recycling von u.a. Altspeiseöl =>100% CO2-Einsparung), mit einem Text von Peter Hohl, der zwischen 1967 und 1979 engster Mitarbeiter Eduard Zimmermanns war.

Reissue of late-’80s release by lovably manly Australian punk rock trio! Sometime in the winter of 1989-90, I wandered into New York City’s Midnight Records, a store famous for its deep catalog of ’60s garage and psychedelic music, as well as a strong selection of classic punk rock and a cantankerous French owner with ridiculous hair. On this visit, instead of hearing a puny French bootleg of The Standells or the Seeds, as I opened the door I was enveloped in the massive opening chords to the first song on the Cosmic Psychos’ then-new album Go the Hack. “She’s a lost cause / She’s a lost, lost cause!” blasted into the air at maximum volume. In a perfect cinematic moment, the drums announced my entry, the bass dictated my walk, the air became thick with guitar fuzz and wah-wah, and snarled vocals described perfectly a girl’s descent into a cause which was lost. Instead of record shopping, I felt like I’d stepped into a biker movie and was motoring down a long, straight Outback road on a Harley. This was my introduction to the Cosmic Psychos, and I was hooked. I loved that a band could be so powerful, sound so big and unapologetically simple, and incorporate so much of what I loved about music—well, basically the attitudes and sounds of The Stooges and Ramones: setting up songs with a good title or idea, matching it with a massive riff, then running it out with squeals of wah-wah and manly disregard for cleverness or adornment. And they called themselves the Cosmic Psychos! They obviously had no regard for “makin’ it” in those days, when an alternative rock band at least had a chance to sell some records. I was an instant fan. Earlier records proved to be the same formula with even less refinement, and that was definitely a good thing. These were lovably manly Aussies singing about what they knew best: farm equipment, lusting after Elle Macpherson, wishing they were in Van Halen (for the ladies), drinking at the pub, and even more drinking at the pub. Trivia question: In what indie rock song does the lead singer bellow “I love my tractor!”? Answer: None! No scarves or looking like Stevie Nicks straight out of the hairstylist’s for these fellows. They were the real deal before the deal was dealt. And they couldn’t care less. The Psychos enjoyed a long run through the ’80s and ’90s on such Australian labels as What Goes On, Mr Spaceman, Survival and Rattlesnake, as well as American stalwarts Sub Pop and Amphetamine Reptile. Many bands from that era no longer seem vital today, lost in a murk of crisp drums, loud guitars, flannel shirts and shallow aspirations. These first Cosmic Psychos releases are as timeless and necessary as ever—still a bullshit bulldozer, a blurry loud night at the bar, a rollicking time hanging with the guys. The time has come for a new generation to be uplifted by these initial blasts from the Cosmic Psychos. Goner is proud to partner with Melbourne’s esteemed Aarght! Records to bring these platters of primal perfection back into a world that definitely needs them. — Eric Friedl, Oblivians / Goner Records 40th Anniversary tour about to hit UK / EU! Go the Hack!! Essential!!

repressed !

Kavinsky’s ‘Odd look’ is one of those songs which will haunt you for a long time after hearing them, one of Kavinsky’s acclaimed ‘Outrun’ highlights for sure.

The deep, raw and soulful instrumental brings a cinematic sound which has the power to litterally put you in a virtual movie just listening to music ! And SebastiAn’s vocal part on top is a unique rendering, somewhere between Stevie Wonder and HAL.



The Weeknd was invited to sing on the song by Kavinsky himself. As a big fan of his singing skills, the zombie wanted him to give his song the real soul touch that he’d had in mind for ages. His performance reminds of Michael Jackson, a fast and swinging vocal line, extremely addictive !



A-Trak who has been Kavinsky’s pal for years now delivers a banging remix with bass & drums and a beautiful & strange vocal hook. The kind of tune that can be played in a NYC hip hop party, as well as in a techno warehouse in Berlin with the same effect : arms up ! A-Track rules it as always.



Midnight Juggernauts have taken the spacey-progressive path for their approach towards ‘Odd Look’. Trancey sounds built around those Scarface-like choirs surround you and bring you back to the early 9O’s chill out era, It’s emotional music, as on their recently released ‘Uncanny Valley’ album.



Prince 85 is the newcomer of this selection of X-tra strong producers. His new-hip hop sound fits Kavinsky’s moods perfectly, adding a brilliant re-cut work and some exquisite additional keyboards. Real drinving music, that’s the deal.



Surkin has the recipe for producing absolute club anthems, his re-do of Kavinsky’s tune is one more proof of his skills. Sirens, brilliantly produced vocal excerpts and his signature synth sounds alltogether create a happy and hysteric mood that one could imagine create club riots !

One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can’t be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music.



There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago – we live in an age that’s been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn’t get sexy with their “Lady Marmalade” for another year while Millie Jackson wasn’t Feelin’ Bitchy until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty’s fierce style wasn’t completely out of Ike’s shadow until later in the decade.



Ms. Davis’s unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song “Uptown” for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late ’60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix — personally inspiring the classic album Bitches Brew.



But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty’s career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn’t fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal.



Her 1974 sophomore album They Say I’m Different features a worthy-of-framing futuristic cover challenging David Bowie’s science fiction funk with real rocking soul-fire, kicked off with the savagely sexual “Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him” (later sampled by Ice Cube). Her follow up is full of classic cuts like “Don’t Call Her No Tramp” and the hilarious, hard, deep funk of “He Was A Big Freak.”