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As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

In the music business, there are certain sidemen — players who back the stars — who play with such prowess that they gain fame of their own. By all rights, Herman Hitson should be one of those people. Over the years, he played with Jimi Hendrix, James Brown, Joe Tex, Bobby Womack, Wilson Pickett, Garnet Mimms, Major Lance, Jackie Wilson, the Drifters, the Shirelles, Hank Ballard & the Midnighters and many others. “I played behind Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke on the same doggone show,” he said, recalling one night at the Royal Peacock. Along the way, he picked up every style of music that was popular in the early years of his career. Arguably, the original seeds of psychedelic rock were planted after Hitson and Hendrix became running buddies in the early 1960s. Both were playing the Chitlin’ Circuit, tours that would load somewhere between ten and two dozen African American musicians on a bus and tour the South, playing Black nightclubs. The two spent weeks together, Herman says. As the 1970s rolled in, Herman wound up playing funk guitar, recording some tracks with the Ohio Players and releasing some of his own funk singles, including the powerful “Ain’t No Other Way,” a number firmly in the James Brown vein which he reprised on ‘Let The Gods Sing.’ In the mid-1960s, he moved to New York City, where he once again hooked up with Hendrix. Early in 1966, Herman began work on his own psychedelic rock album under the title “Free Spirit.” Hermon sang and played lead guitar, and Hendrix played bass on a few tracks that went unreleased by ATCO at the time. Those recordings wound up being the source of a controversy in the 1980s that brought Hermon’s name into the limelight in a different way. The title song of the album, “Free Spirit,” was released on two albums of music allegedly recorded by Hendrix and then “lost” to history. “That’s my song,” Herman says today. "He Hendrix didn’t never play no lead on nothing of mine. And he didn’t sing on nothing of mine. In fact, back then he thought he couldn’t sing. We had to keep pushing him". Jimi would say, ‘I can’t sing.’ I’d say, ‘Man, you don’t have to be Wilson Pickett. All you got to do is sing like you sing.” Recorded and co-produced by Bruce Watson at his Delta Sounds Studio in Memphis, Hitson’s backed on the new album by guitarist and co-producer Will Sexton and some of Memphis’ best musicians.

“I had to write myself back into existence,” says Jessie Baylin. “I’d been feeling lost, empty, unsure if I’d ever make music again, and I think this album came along to remind me of who I really am, of who I could still become.” Indeed, Jersey Girl is more than just another record for Baylin; it’s a radical act of self-actualization, a moving work of reflection and rebirth from an artist who’s spent the better part of her adult life running from her roots. Written and recorded with GRAMMY-winning producers Daniel Tashian and Ian Fitchuk (Kacey Musgraves, Birdy), the collection marks Baylin’s first release since the passing of her longtime collaborator Richard Swift, whose influence looms large here even in his absence, and it signals the start of a profound new chapter, one marked by love and empathy for the face staring back in the mirror. The songs are lush and dreamy here, drawing on a hazy palette of warm guitars and vintage keyboard tones, and Baylin’s performances are nothing short of mesmerizing, her tender voice front-and-center in the mix as she grapples with guilt and shame, pain and healing, purpose and identity. Baylin’s the first to tell you this wasn’t an easy record to make—in fact, it wasn’t a record she intended to make at all—but sometimes the biggest breakthroughs come from the most unexpected places. “I had to be tricked into writing these songs,” Baylin confesses, “but it was a good kind of trick. I didn’t realize what was happening until I was already in the midst of it, and that turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

Perpetual Doom is proud to present a special double-LP from Mountain Brews. Spearheaded by Jake Longstreth, Los Angeles-based painter and co-host of Apple Music’s Time Crisis with Ezra Koenig, Mountain Brews was founded around a vital American tradition: sippin’ cold ones to the “tasteful palette of seventies rock.” Full of warm melodies and guitars that evoke a Mojave glow, Mountain Brews occupy the sunny spot right between the studio-slick hits of early Eagles and the laidback jams of the Grateful Dead. And now that their four previous EPS are available in a single package, there’s nothing left to do but grab a seat, turn up the music, and crack one open.

Mountain Brews are pros at keeping things loose and light. Recorded by the same group of old pals that make up a LA based Grateful Dead cover band, Richard Pictures—including Longstreth, Aaron Olson, Ryan Adlaf, and John Nixon—these seventeen tracks celebrate the early seventies’ spirit of easy-going collaboration. You can hear it when a guitar slide greets the opening strum on the title track, an assuming ode to the pleasures of drinking and hiking: “As we get to the top of the mountain, there’s a view,” Longstreth sings. “Take a load off and crack a few mountain brews.” And while the song boasts virtuoso playing worthy of Desperado, the vibe is less barstool machismo than six-pack camaraderie.

It’s a self-aware R&R mindset that pulses through tracks like “You Eagled,” which ponders both a great golf score and the trials of becoming “classic,” and “It’s My Masterpiece,” with its tightly coiled licks and breezy nonchalance with regards to inevitable civilizational demise. Sure, the Brews know there’s a down for every up. “Raised in a Place” and “Big Bummer Hotel” acknowledge that even the chillest California cowboys get the middle-aged blues, resurrecting the heartland synthesizers of late eighties Don Henley and Bruce Hornsby to find a little meaning in the madness. And Ezra Koenig and Danielle Haim contribute vocals to help “The Worst Margarita of My Life” go down just a little easier.

These four EPs were recorded between 2019 and 2021 in various bedrooms and studios across California. “Uphill From Here” brings it all back around as guitarist Aaron “Bobby” Olson sings about meeting Jake on the trail once again: “And it’s all uphill from here,” he sings. “We may have to stop and down these beers.” But whether it’s uphill or down, Mountain Brews makes it clear—the journey is better with company.

It’s common knowledge that KOMPAKT’s TOTAL series serves as our yearbook, a musical wrap up of the past 12 months. Therefore it doesn’t come as a surprise that this year’s edition is informed by another pandemic year, where dancefloors were still mostly deserted and the devastating developments in Eastern Europe. Kompakt’s A&R team still kept on foot on the imaginary dancefloor, while scouting different realms apart from the big room euphoria. Anyway, brain dance has always been a key ingredient to our catalogue.

The Voigt brothers are opening this years vinyl edition in an unusually romantic fashion. ‘Why’ combines a bubbly FM bassline with lush washes of looped guitars. High off the (presumably high) heels of her recent album ‘Jesus Was An Alien’ she delivers a spanking new excursion into her sonic world, ‘The Hill’. Our Mexican friend Rebolledo makes his first ever solo appearance on TOTAL with his trademark hypnotic desert sound. Jürgen Paape is calling a spade a spade with ‘Le Monde À Changé’ – The world has changed indeed. Our prodigal son, Matias Aguayo, returns to the mothership with ‘Cinco Y Rojo’. An exercise in Chicago-esque groove theory paired with a cheeky visitor from Denmark. Spot the reference and win a pair of hooves. It’s hard to find a quality party around Cologne without Jonathan Kaspar on its bill. Rightly so, as he continues to hone his craft as an impeccable DJ and producer. Michael gives the tremendously talented Danish singer songwriter eee gee a proper Mayer treatment and Kompakt founding member Jörg Burger closes off the festivities with a groovy midtempo chugger that reminisces ‘Blue Lines’ era Massive Attack as much as the late Andy Weatheralls low slung psychedelia.

Es ist allgemein bekannt, dass die TOTAL Reihe eine jährliche Positionsbestimmung des Kölner Labels KOMPAKT darstellt und der Jahrbuch-hafte Charakter war ja auch immer beabsichtigt. So wundert es wenig, dass man TOTAL 22 die Irrungen und Wirrungen des zweiten pandemischen Jahres 2022 deutlich anhört. Die A&R Abteilung des Labels hatte zwar – trotz geschlossener Clubs – weiter mindestens einen Fuss auf dem imaginären Tanzboden, aber man spürt, dass es ein eher verhaltener Jahrgang geworden ist. Dance Tracks brauchen einen entsprechenden Resonanzraum – und der war zumindest bis zur Deadline dieser Platte kaum gegeben. Aber Kopfdisco gehörte schon immer zum kompakten Repertoire. Letztlich entsteht in diesem vom Big Room los gekoppelten Bereich meist die interessanteste Musik.

Die Gebrüder Voigt eröffnen TOTAL 22 auf einer unerwartet romantischen Note. Quirlige FM Bässe schmiegen sich an verhuschte Gitarrenloops, so dass es eine wahre Freude ist. Perel hat gerade ihr fulminantes Album “Jesus Was An Alien” abgeliefert und spurtet bereits mit Siebenmeilenstiefeln (oder vielleicht auch Pumps?) zum nächsten Ziel: ‘The Hills’. Unser mexikanischer Freund Rebolledo ist erstmals solo auf einer TOTAL zu finden und beschwört mit ‘The Sharper Image’ seinen hypnotischen Prärie Sound herauf. Jürgen Paape nennt das Kind direkt beim Namen: Le monde a changé… Die Welt hat sich verändert – ein Kommentar zum Zeitgeschehen, der keiner Erklärung bedarf. Nach längerer Abstinenz hat Matias Aguayo wieder am Mutterschiff angedockt. ‘Cinco Y Rojo’ ist ein Lehrstück in Sachen Chicago-esquen Grooves, kombiniert mit einem frechen Besucher aus dem Dänemark der 80er. Findet die Referenz und gewinnt ein paar nagelneuer Hufen. Es ist derzeit schwer eine qualitativ hochwertige Party im Rheinland zu finden, auf der Jonathan Kaspar nicht spielt. Zurecht, denn er schärft seine Skills als DJ und Produzent wie ein Sushi Chef sein Messer. Michael Mayer dreht die überaus talentierte Singer Songwriterin eee gee auf links und überlässt seinem Weggefährten Jörg Burger das letzte Wort. "Crawling Up That Hill’ ist ein slicker Midtempo Groover, der in seiner behutsamen Psychedelik irgendwo zwischen Massive Attack in der ‘Blue Lines’ Epoche und Andy Weatherall changiert.

Vessels promise an escape from responsibilities towards the landscape, they facilitate our avoidance of conscientiously feeling our attachment to the mainland. The visual nothingness of deep water and clean horizons fools the brain and delivers a treacherous feeling of independence.

We ignore the truths expressed by landscapes, so we mould them into urban projects for our strange desires. We clean up the irrationalities by which nature constructs itself. Then we look up to the skies, where the abstractions we have to draw in our minds should reside and inspire us.

We peer into the various shades of blue above the waters, the emptiness guarantees possibilities of our abstractions becoming realities. The apathetic stare into neat, straight horizons transforms our ancestral landscape into dirt and danger, when looking back to it.

To be on a ship under quarantine, is an upside down experience, for the promised escape has turned into a forced paralysis. The Lima flag (? - ? ?, in morse code), presented on the outer sleeve of this record, indirectly demands of all passengers to stay aboard and contemplate their escape from the land they now desire to return to.

These four piano pieces could be considered as a classical sonata (allegroadagio-scherzo-rondo). In a recital they are accompanied by four video pieces by artist Karl Van Welden. We picked the videos out of his extensive archive, choosing images intuitively while listening to the piano music. The theme of ships relating to quarantine thus came unannounced but of course, we were in the middle of the pandemic at the time.

Solastalgia was already waiting as a title for the new album before march 2020. I first came across the word in Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane (2019). He defines the word as "The unhappiness of people whose landscapes are being transformed about them by forces beyond their control". These forces and this unhappiness are, I believe, what constitutes the modern human. Solastalgia, about the music We haven't found them yet, the words to talk to each other about the worrying signs of climate change. Feeling worried when walking on autumn leaves in the beginning of August should be completely normal. But how do we communicate about it? We don't want to be just the next hysterical doomer.

With this music I try to focus on the climate pain itself, gently inviting the listener to investigate their latent feelings of unease and growing concerns about the environment. As in real life, we circumvent the real issues because they are just too big, there are no words, no expressions yet.

This album tries, in four different attempts, to carve out a path towards communicating about a deeper pain that eventually will connect us all. My general method is to start with a comforting melody, full of fake nostalgia, which, after changing gear to autodestruct mode, morphs into a painful question mark.

The first part sets off with an idyllic melody, accompanied by repeated notes, as a far, muted echo of an alarm. The melody starts to explain itself painfully into a dissonant whirlwind in the high register, sounding not unlike Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit bravura. In the second piece a warm Beatles like melody (And I love her) gets confronted with the weird hippie mantra of a later Lennon song War is over, if you want it. Sentences get reduced to syllables and result in lonely notes that crash and shiver under the burden of too much meaning. Like Shostakovich's latest work, the Sonata for viola and piano.

The descending melody of Bach's Erbarme dich, Mein Gott is echoed in the upper and lower voicings of the third piece, juxtaposed to a typical, threatening Ennio Morricone Western dotted rhythm accompaniment. This rhythm eventually evolves into citing the 1972 Captain Beefheart early ecological warning song Blabber and Smoke (there's a big pane/pain in your window, it's gonna hang you all,... dangle you all). Towards the middle of the piece, the music explodes and the three layers get dispersed all over the keyboard in a virtuosic maelstrom towards another painful question mark. The bitter answer is going back to business with a barely noticeable citation of the first notes of the RZA's Liquid Swords album.

The final piece is some kind of mantra, the same 7/4 pulse all throughout the piece. The dampers of all A's and B's on the keyboard are released by the middle pedal, thus sustaining an ever present resonance. Melodic cells alternate in shifting quantifications with small, bell like percussive cluster playing. While composing this piece an image crept up: walking out of the church on Sunday morning, tolling bells enthusiastically moderating the churchgoers' small talk in the local dialect. Apparently I have tried to evoke this kind of conversation, but injecting it with fictitious alarming conversation topics, the contemporary.

Frederik Croene (August '22)

Sub Pop are excitedly finally repressing vinyl versions of three scorching ‘90s
psychobilly classics by Reverend Horton Heat. All three have been out of print on
vinyl since the mid-1990s, with original pressings going for considerable amounts at
the ol’ junk shop.

1994’s ‘Liquor In The Front’ gets even more aggressive - heavy, even - sonically,
with production by Ministry’s Al Jourgensen and the high-velocity opening pairing of
the high-velocity instrumental ‘Big Sky’ and the blistering lament ‘Baddest Of The
Bad’. The highest selling of the Rev’s first three albums, ‘Liquor In The Front’ was
originally co-released with Interscope Records, with the album hitting #18 on the
Billboard Heatseekers chart and the single ‘One Time For Me’ hitting #40 on the
Modern Rock chart. In the words of AllMusic, “for sheer crank, nothing in his catalog
can touch it.”

This is the third set in our Soul Slabs sets, which compiles tracks from our diverse 45 releases showcasing artists big and small. It's a great way for folks to discover some of our lesser known artists or just discover our label's sound. Record shops have previously described our compilations as their RSD soundtrack! Our previous compilations have always sold out the day of (nearly) and maintained demand even upon the black vinyl represses.

Rock Eupora, the moniker for Mississippi-bred, Nashville-based artist Clayton Waller, has always been a heart-on-your-sleeve musical endeavor. From his earliest recordings, Waller has never been afraid to ask the big, searching questions of life. Catchy, hooky pop sensibilities have similarly been a consistent through-line in Rock Eupora's catalogue. Featuring singable, fuzzed-out guitar hooks and stuck-in-your-head-all-afternoon choruses, the discography of Rock Eupora–including three full-length albums, two EPs, and a smattering of singles to date–brings to mind Blue Album-era Weezer or the high-energy, hard-charging, harmony-laden early Beatles singles. These defining features are still present in Pick At The Scab, Rock Eupora's latest full-length album, and yet, something feels different. "I wanted to let the songs breathe a bit," Waller says of his mindset while writing the material that would become the songs for Pick At The Scab. "I gravitate towards writing up-beat, high energy songs, but this time around, I decided to lean back a little and let the songs speak for themselves."

In the gutter lie sun dried leaves, scraps of paper, burnt matches and cigarette butts. It is early morning; the sun rises with warm grace. you've come to the right party... you see, the body of a young man sitting by a pool, nobody important, really. Just a movie writer with a couple of "b" pictures to his credit. He always wanted a pool. Well, in the end he got himself a pool, but let's go back some time and find the day when it all started in “Hollywood,” the place where they pay a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul.

Three years after he celebrated “Sketch of Japan” EP, Superpitcher returns to Mule Musiq, bringing an epic super-pitched 40 minutes trip named “Hollywood”, that perfectly works as the score for the above remixed opening scene of a famous movie on the trances of Hollywood, the cage, that catch our dreams. It’s a slow grower, incorporating some of core elements of the city of celluloid dreams: action, drama, romance - all epic noir and yet so flooded by light. As ever the producer and DJ from Paris garnished his long building up and going down voyage with se-ducing melodies, glamorous pop, and psychic rhythms, creating the hippy dance ambiences he is famed for. Even though the twelve inch comes in accustomed a/b chapters, “Hollywood” should be perceived in one go to feel the depth of Superpitcher’s tropical leaning story arc, that stretches the idea of a track into a dream of satin teardrops on flickering velvet lights. It paints sonic celluloid pictures of ghostly creatures, while a female/male voice is the music’s constant melodic companion, injection Janus-faced longing dream pop spheres on the overall tripping house melancholy. A heroic electronic drama, elegant as Tamara de Lempicka painting. It asks for endless rides on the Hollywood freeways. in the back the sun – a big orange ball – sinking slowly below the horizon.

You've come to the right party... you see, the body of a young man sitting by a pool, in the back a long, graceful bar, bathed in soft light, filled with elegant customers. There's nothing else, just us and the music and those wonderful people out there in the dark, ready for a divine dance in closeup.

Nothing goes quite like you plan it, and the same could be said for oso oso’s fourth full-length, sore thumb. The album is an unexpected and unintentional return-to-form; a capsule of early 2021 when oso’s Jade Lilitri (he/him; vocals/guitar/bass/drums) and his late cousin Tavish Maloney (he/him) holed themselves up at producer Billy Mannino’s (Bigger Better Sun) Two Worlds Recordings. For a solid month, the three of them practically lived at the studio, crafting this entire album together in between nerf gun fights and psychedelic trips. The idea was to spend that month writing and demoing, then take a month off to decide where and who to work with to bring it to life––but everything happens for a reason. Less than a month later, when Tavish suddenly passed away, Jade knew immediately that he was not going to be touching these songs. Almost nothing has changed since; aside from a brilliant mix by Mike Sappone, sore thumb was nearly complete the day the two cousins left the studio. Every quirk, and every conceptual song born out of a month spent stoned with your cousin recording whatever came to mind; sore thumb exists as a living memorial for Maloney. It's a celebration of life and chaos and art, a glimpse into a moment that will never happen again. One month in Long Island, preserved for eternity.

On High Flying Man, the third LP by Matt Berry’s pseudo-eponymous project The Berries, loss and desire take center stage. Berry delves deep into 21st century malaise, crafting densely layered songs which project an unshakable yearning for deliverance from the world’s shortcomings. Each track extends an outstretched palm towards universal connection, blending a complex of mix of pop hooks, rock swagger, and psychedelia into dejected populist anthems. Faced with the perils of an isolating world, High Flying Man reignites the tradition of great American songwriting, speaking in the voice of the longing masses. At heart, Berry demands more life, rejecting both arty cynicism and nostalgic escapism.

Berry cut his teeth at a young age playing in the bands Happy Diving (Topshelf Records) and Big Bite (Pop Wig), and has since regularly served as a touring member for bands like Angel Dust and Dark Tea. His early work with Happy Diving and Big Bite solidified his position as an upcoming star in the world of fuzzed-out indie rock, earning him tours and opening slots with the likes of Turnstile, Dinosaur Jr., Nothing, The Swirlies, and The Coathangers. With The Berries, however, Berry turns the Big Muffs down (although not off), creating sonic space to stretch his wings as a burgeoning pop songwriter. The psychedelic-surrealist textures of his earlier output are not gone, per say, but rather find themselves folded into more expansive, rock-oriented arrangements, becoming accoutrements as opposed to the driving force of each song itself.

High Flying Man follows The Berries’ previous releases, 2018’s Start All Over Again and 2019’s Berryland. While longtime listeners will undoubtedly recognize Berry’s disaffected drawl and melodic sensibility, High Flying Man’s complex arrangements and expansive sonic landscape place it well apart from its predecessors. Berry enlisted live band members Danny Paul (drums), Emma Danner (backing vocals), and Lance Umble (bass) during the recording of High Flying Man, as well as the mixing talents of Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith, Beck, Guided by Voices), breaking from the self-produced home recording ethos of the previous Berries LPs. The collaborative nature of High Flying Man’s recording process is reflected in the quality of each song’s arrangement. Freed from the pressure of being individually responsible for every detail committed to tape, Berry was able to focus his attention more fully on the creative demands of constructing a dynamic and cohesive record. High Flying Man pivots away from any sort of obvious nod to Americana tropes, baggy British attitude, or Neil Young-esque riffing, leaning head on into a lush, idiosyncratic grandeur.

Each track evokes the irreverent and flashy style of a songwriting voice finding itself for the first time. Berry’s guitar heroics extend towards new heights, channeling the simple pop mastery of Lindsay Buckingham (“Prime”) and the wicked emotion of a 21st century “November Rain” (“High Flying Man”). Unusual stylistic juxtapositions give certain songs an almost timeless quality: Bert Jansch-esque crooning finds its counterpoint in sweeping, distortion-soaked riffs (“A Drop of Rain”), the primitive rhythms of Amon Duul are given an arena-sized, Britpop facelift (“Life’s Blood”). On High Flying Man, however, the ballad reigns supreme. “Down That Road Again” drips with sentimentality, powered by soft, undeniable pop melodies and pared-down chord progressions. Album-centerpiece “Eagle Eye” teeters between pure grace and extreme sorrow, unfolding into a massive, immediately memorable tide of melancholic beauty.

Lyrically, High Flying Man is both simple and direct. Although often bitter about the state of the world, Berry has no overtly political axe to grind. In some instances, he takes jabs at the moral laziness of aging millennials, expressing his yearning for a return to vitality and conviction (“Prime”). In other instances, Berry turns his criticism inwards, examining his longing for a better life and his repeated tendency to self-sabotage (“Down That Road Again”). These two poles balance each other out, creating a thematic tenor which is more so self-implicating and empathetic than critical. If anyone is to blame, it is the world we have been saddled with, not the people left to pick up its pieces. Although often personal, Berry’s words evoke a universal experience of continued belief in the face of loss. “High Flying Man” chronicles the growing distance between Berry and an old friend who has been shipwrecked by the weight of trauma, evoking the sorrow of trying to love someone who is no longer able to keep up with reality. Even the most somber passages of “Eagle Eye” (“long before I become aware of it, my friend/it’s 6 AM and I’m gonna die”) find their redemption in a burning devotion towards something worth living for (“If there’s one thing I can depend on/it’s my old friend/my shining light/my eagle eye”).

With High Flying Man, Matt Berry embraces undying love in the face of isolation. Daring to want more life becomes a spiritual rallying cry against a world that has failed to make life either meaningful or beautiful. At their core, these songs are not about revolution, but they are about the faith that gives something like revolution a purpose in the first place.

Limited to: 300 copies.

Lera Lynn blurs the boundaries between genres, carving out a sound inspired by art-pop, indie-folk and the outer edges of American roots music. She’s a singer. She’s a songwriter. She’s a road warrior. She’s a multi-instrumentalist and producer. She’s a mother.

Texas born, Nashville resident Lera Lynn is just as comfortable creating an album entirely by herself, as she is collaborating with her heroes. In 2018, she worked with T Bone Burnett and Rosanne Cash on tracks that were not only picked up by the TV show True Detective, but Lynn was cast as a recurring character who performs in a dive bar frequented by the main characters.

However, nothing could have prepared Lynn for the lessons learned during motherhood. She welcomed her first son during the early months of the pandemic and began writing down her insights, chronicling this newfound experience of shifting priorities, strange endings, and new beginnings. Inside, she was battling postpartum depression. Outside, a bigger picture began taking shape: a feeling of interconnectedness, of cyclic renewal, of the knowledge that every beginning is an end and every end is a beginning. Those realizations coalesced into Something More Than Love, a record filled with synthesizers, lush soundscapes, the pop-noire punch of Lynn's voice, and the most dynamic melodies of her career.

Inspired by the cyclical patterns that shape our place in the world, Something More Than Love was co-produced and largely performed by Lynn and her partner, Todd Lombardo (Kacey Musgraves/Donovan Woods/Kathleen Edwards). They'd met years earlier, not long after Lynn relocated to Nashville from her college town (and musical launchpad) of Athens, Georgia. "My first time ever co-writing a song was in Nashville with Todd," she says of the ACM-nominated multi-instrumentalist. The two became fast friends and, eventually, partners; their creative chemistry giving way to romance and a growing family. That partnership reached a new milestone in 2021, with the newfound parents sharpening their creative instincts and expanding their palette for Lynn's sixth album.

"A lot of people were making records during the pandemic," Lynn notes, "and all they had was time. But it was the opposite experience for us. We created this whole record while still in the fog of early parenthood, and we didn't have the luxury of waiting for lightning to strike. We had to be focused and intentional."

Striking a balance between intimate self-reflection and universal insight, Something More Than Love poses big questions over even bigger-sounding music, with tempos and layered arrangements that find Lynn at her most dynamic. Illusion opens the album with spacey synthesizers before snapping into a taut, 1980s-influenced groove, combing reverb and rhythm into a song that swoons one minute and struts the next. I'm Your Kamikaze — a deconstructed burst of indie garage-rock, heavy on melody and percussive pulse — unfolds like a salute to self-sacrifice, with Lynn dedicating her own existence to ensuring her child's flourishing. What Is This Body? finds her reassessing her ideas of physical identity and womanhood, while the album's gorgeous title track makes room for slow-burn strings and a meteoric chorus.

Together, those songs turn Lera Lynn's experience with absolute surrender — surrendering oneself to the trials and triumphs of motherhood — into a universal record about the experiences that bind us together. This isn't just Lynn's story. It's the story of a life cycle that repeats itself over and over, every termination point becoming a starting line, every death matched by a rebirth, every edge giving way to the circular slope of the ouroboros.

"This is the sound of a band empowered. Nothing - not our traumas and losses, not those who have underestimated or undermined us - can stop us. Those who seek to oppose us; your sins will catch up to you. We know who we are. We are united and you will fear us." Ithaca - They Fear Us ---------------- Formed in 2012 out of a mutual love of metallic hardcore but despair at its lack of ambition, Ithaca exist to challenge everything you thought about what a band that makes heavy music should look and sound like. A glitter-covered nailbomb, Ithaca seamlessly blend the brutality of Relapse Records metalcore with blackgaze, 90s industrial metal, 70s prog and even tinges of 80s power pop. Their influences stretch beyond the musical - this album comes with a clear vision and aesthetic: drawing from members’ different ancestral heritage, queer/non-conforming identities and iconic figures in avant-garde, new wave and post punk culture. Their upcoming second album ‘They Fear Us’ is the sound of a band healing from trauma - standing in their own, unapologetic voice. Furious and wildly inventive while also being more coherent and accessible, this album will introduce Ithaca to a wider audience than they’ve ever had before. To quote the band - ‘those who oppose us; your sins will catch up to you. You will fear us’. Ithaca's 2019 lauded debut ‘The Language of Injury’ was followed by their early 2020 tour with Grammy-nominated indie rock band Big Thief, starting at London’s Hammersmith Apollo. Press support from Pitchfork, BBC R1, Metal Hammer, Kerrang!, Rock Sound, Revolver, Decibel, BrooklynVegan, and performances with Bleeding Through, Jamie Lenman, Anaal Nathrakh, The Number Twelve Looks Like You, at Boomtown Fair and ArcTanGent Festival mark Ithaca as one of the most exciting and vital new voices in UK heavy music currently. Ithaca have also appeared on Ed Gamble’s Spotify podcast ‘Lifers’, Sky News and BBC3.

Red Vinyl

That we live in a world changed is beyond question. Since 2015's Zenith, Berlin-based songwriter Molly Nilsson has surrendered to the world, traveling from Mexico to Glasgow, observing the changing socio-political landscape and imagining a better world. For an artist who has so successfully created her own environment and gradually let others in, her 8th studio album Imaginations sees Nilsson directly engaging with her surroundings, engendering change and allowing love in. Imaginations dreams big, recasting storming, stadium-sized pop into the internal language of the solo auteur. Imaginations is not escapism, it's a kaleidoscope and an alternative view, an agent of change.Opener Tender Surrender encapsulates Imaginations, a tango on the ruins of the past, like many of Nilsson's best songs a collision between the political and personal. Though potentially a love song, there's a glowing anger in the lines I want your ruin, I want destruction, I won't be through until we mend this...' this is rapturous transformation, order and chaos. Molly has built an almost 10 year career on perfectly summing up how we feel and this is no different... Who else could write a song about privilege (Let's Talk About Privileges) and make a heart-rending chorus of It's never being afraid of the police, it's expecting every thank you, every please.' The artist's vision on this album is perhaps more forceful than the emotionally fragile moments of previous album Zenith, at times exemplified on songs like Memory Foam, a bright, driving pop song that belies themes of nostalgia and the past, reminding us that Molly alone can make us feel so welcome in loneliness. If there's overt anger in songs like Money Never Sleeps, an anthem for a post-capitalist utopia if ever there was one, there's also seams of optimism sewn into the album's genetic code. Any revolutionary will tell you that anger alone achieves nothing - Nilsson's mission on Imaginations is to offer some alternatives we can hold close. Not Today Satan is a song about accepting love as the agent of change, Don't be sad, but do get mad at all the small men who act so tall, in the end they always fall, there ain't no sin in giving in to love, that's just how we're winning the fight.' Love can be visceral, a weapon with which to fight the power.On Imaginations Molly is recasting her interior monologue as a prism through which to see the world, a means to live differently and to reject the status quo. We can Think Pink, change our destiny together. This is an optimism about the future when we need it the most. New boys, new girls.. give me your smile and I'll give you mine' Clearly, we are living through a transformation but with alchemists like Molly Nilsson, we're never alone in the process.

It’s going off and The Chisel are back to cause a bit of bovver. Following a trio of explosive singles, the band finally bring us their debut full-length album, Retaliation, on the London-based punk institution La Vida Es Un Mus. Having formed in early 2020 and featuring a crew of members with long-term associations to the London punk scene, The Chisel quickly secured a reputation as one of the most exciting bands from a pool of contemporaries that includes Chubby & The Gang, Stingray and Big Cheese. Their sound is rooted firmly in Punk but with influences that run across the board to create a distinctive blend of Oi!, anarcho, UK-82 and hardcore. Retaliation is an unmistakably British record that draws a line from 1982 up to the present day, pushing its way into your collection and torching your stereo. Opening with the agitated force of ‘Unlawful Execution’, the tone is firmly set by a song that addresses the brutality of the Met Police (“Tell me what’s the difference between right or wrong / When a copper gets to blast a lad who did nothing wrong”). ‘Come See Me’ is a ferocious ode to camaraderie in the face of mouthy boneheads and bellends. ‘Shit Life Syndrome’ is a poisoned reference to the same cynical phrase used by physicians to describe the effects of people living under poverty and in the grips of substance abuse (“How can you expect people to act nicely, they’ve all been left on the edge of society”). It’s one of many songs influenced by singer Cal’s experiences of growing up in the working-class town of Blackpool. Cal states: “Blackpool as a town is often overlooked or even looked down upon, I wanted to write lyrics which gave the people of my town a voice”. With tunes like these The Chisel show that they’ll never pull any punches. However, beyond the fury and the swagger there’s another side that plays to an additional strength; the ability to write a memorable hook. Songs like ‘Retaliation’, ‘Tooth & Nail’ and ‘Not The Only One’ could be described as modern day anthems (the latter has become a fan favourite since the arrival of their first live shows) and cement their identity as a band not to be defined by their influences. Recorded by Jonah Falco at Total Refreshment Centre, London, March 2021.
Mixed by James Atkinson at the Stationhouse in Leeds. Mastered by Daniel Husayn at North London Bomb Factory. Cover painting by Tara Atefi.

Back In Stock!

‘Cranes In The Sky,’ was originally written by Beyonce’s baby sister Solange alongside Raphael Saadiq, for her album back in 2016 that was cited by Rolling Stone as one of the most important 500 records of all time. The words exploring a fearless journey inward, pulling up the root of a problem, and the first glimpse of blue sky after the storm has passed.

Fast forward to 2022 - Ross Allen and Andy Thompson’s Foundation Music Productions enlist the expertise of Baltimore club legend, Dj Oji, together with Tracy Hamlin (Pieces Of A Dream), to take Solange’s breakout delivery to the dancefloor. Soulful vocals will heal you, while the mid-tempo moments will mellow the masses, and UK Funky grooves will keep the shuffle moving along way into the early hours. Three remixes come in the form of the ethereal DJ Pope Funkhut Reprise, a signature Joe Goddard groover and the Star One. KDA. Meltdown Dub.

DJ Feedback:

FRANCOIS K
Yes! I played the vocal version the other day again.

KAI ALCE
Dope re-interpretation from Baltimore stalwarts OJI, POPE & Tracy!

GREG WILSON
What's not to like? Love the orig Solange jam!

DANNY KRIVIT
Nice, I like a lot of DJ Oji.

SOUL CLAP/ ELI GOLDSTEIN
Fire right here

DAZ I KUE/ BUGZ IN THE ATTIC
Yea I love this one…cool vibes.

THATMANMONKZ
Oh yeah, love the Solange original, and I’m a big Oji fan! That reprise version might come in very useful for the right set!

TERRY FARLEY/ FAITH
Got to be contender for single of the month with that story x

HOT TODDY
Simply beautiful.

CRAIG SMITH/ 6TH BOROUGH PROJECT
Loved the original of this from Solange a few years back, this is a real nice interpretation of it. Liking the reprise and Dub, handy tools

CHARLES WEBSTER
Nice soulful groover. Like this.

FISH GOO DEEP/ GREG DOWLING
Lovely re imagining of one of my favourite tracks of all time

FRANK BOOKER
Love this package. Reprise mix is the one for me. Very cool!

NICK V/ LA MONA
Thanks a lot I actually prefer the dub version :)

JIMPSTER/ FREERANGE
Killer groove on this and really nice to hear a housed up version of Cranes which is such a stunning song in it’s OG form. Def something I’d like to play out.

FELIX JOY/ SWU.FM
Yes ! I flippin love a good reprise mix and this one is doing it for me. Love the original version by Solange and this is a really great rework!

STEVE PARRY / FOR SASHA
Really Smoove love it.

GROOVE ARMADA/ TOM FINDLAY
THIS IS LOVELY!!

RALPH SESSION/ HALF ASSED RECORDS
Wow the dubstrumental really gives it new life.

QUENTIN HARRIS
I love this package.

GRAME PARK/ THE HACIENDA
This is tremendous

HECTOR ROMERO/ DEF MIX
Good to see this one got picked up. I’ve played this a few times since 2018 but will get it back in rotation. Glad to see this song is getting some traction. I look forward to the unreleased versions.

ANDY BUCHAN
What a sun-dappled slice of beauty! Full support on this, what a gorgeous EP. And those drums are ace, really propulsive.

DANIELLE MOORE/ CRAZY P
Yeah I really like this. I mean I love the original but theres something quite interesting about this. Nice yeah x

MARC MEISNERE/ SOL POWER SOUND
Yes please! Can’t wait to play this one!

STEFANO TUCCI/ HELL YEAH
This is one of the best best vocal of recent times, I love It, the crescendo towards half of the track is nothing but gorgeous!

TREVOR FING/ GRAFITTI KINGS
Love these remixes.

MAX P/ HELL YEAH
Yeah, full pack is what I needed !

HORSE MEAT DISCO/ SEVERINO
Really into this!

SEAN JOHNSTON/ ALFOS
I wouldn't play it, but it's a beautiful piece of work

GRAEME PARK/ THE HACIENDA
I’m gonna enjoy playing this its lovely.

NICK V/ LA MONA
Thanks a lot I actually prefer the dub version :)

TREVOR FUNG/ GRAFITTI KINGS
Love this !!

QUENTIN HARRIS
Being a fan of the Original I love everything about this.

ALAN DIXON/ MIDNIGHT MAGIC
Killer!!!!

DAVE JARVIS/ FAITH
This is amazing! Absolutely love xx

NICK V/ LA MONA
This is a fantastic track!

MAX P/ HELL YEAH
Oh yeaahhhh

RICK GILL/ OUTLAWS YACHT CLUB
Beautiful soulful house. Quality production and top draw vocals.

MICKEY JUKES/ 1BTN
Ooof! Such a strong record to step to but i love this. Classy production, vocals are killer. All round winner!

TOMMY TURBO JAZZ/ JAXX MEDICINE
I was a fan of the OG but I really needed this cut!!

RUSSELL FORMAN/ PIKES/ HARRYS KEBABS
This is great .... I'm writing an article on the Coney Island Boardwalk house parties atm.

JIM LISTER/ 1BTN
Loving the reprise and the dub!I'm a big fan of the Solange original, so it's nice to hear a new angle on it

CHRIS DE BEURRE/ THE EAGLE
Gorgeous vocal! And such a deep production - really like this! Infectious x

DAIRMONT/ ROOM WITH A VIEW
Amazing track. Loving it!

STEVE PARRY/ FOR SASHA
Beautiful super smooth.

LES CROASDAILE/ FREIGHT ISLAND
Tune this, reminds of Southport weekender!

Swedish progg is not to be confused with "prog" as in progressive rock music. When we are talking about progg, we are referring to the Swedish music movement influenced by the political climate of the late 60's, to some extent the hippie movement and in many cases also Swedish folk music. Music highly driven by a political agenda. Blod's Knutna Nävar, originally released in an edition of 150 copies on Förlag För Fri Musik in 2018 and later a small cassette run, is pretty much a lost progg classic from the 70's. This is not a case of copying a certain sound though, far from it, neither are ideas really rehashed nor does the album feel nostalgic in that sense. Rather it feels like if someone has read about the progg movement and all the records but never actually heard it, yet decided to do an album and somehow managed to succeed big time. Further developing the sound palette and ambience initiated with parts of the Leendet Från Helvetet recording, the music feels slightly louder and more in your face. It's like it's more of everything. The melodies are immediate and it's quite impossible to resist the brash catchiness of it all. Albeit mentioning progg music and its importance for this recording, the actual musical side of Knutna Nävar has in reality more in common with soundtrack/library music and Swedish composers like the late Björn Isfält when you attempt to break it down. The crude DIY approach and anything-goes mentality just adds an extra dimension to it all and ultimately places the music somewhere else. There's a rather blunt use of samples throughout the record (sources probably best to leave out, though you don't have to be a Einstein to figure these out), but then again this is made by the same guy that gave the world the ABBA album. Those samples has managed to become an integral part of the music through the few years that has passed and though well familiar with the records those snippets are now to me genuinely Blod and nothing else. It seems like everyone has their own favourite but Knutna Nävar is the Blod album I have returned to the most. It has that extra something that sets it apart and if I would have to pick up a few records that sums up why Gothenburg has been a pretty damn awesome place to be in the last 10 years or so, this would definitely be one of the top picks.

Just another repress here, nothing to see! That is of course a joke because this EP is proper fire! For many, Funky Sensation is their favourite N-Zo & DJ Invincible track…but for the rest it is this total classic “Take Me Away”! N-Zo & DJ Invincible had a sound that was distinctly their own, being able to take big vocals and pianos mixed with very jungle inspired chopped breaks but keeping the sound firmly hardcore. Take Me Away remains pure goose bump material to this day. With such a classic on one side it’s not surprising that the other side doesn’t get the airtime it deserves. Red 5 is another amazing track that shows off the style of N-Zo & DJ Invincible perfectly but this time without the big piano and female vocal. Don’t let that fool you into thinking that this isn’t really another A side in disguise. Once again you can hear the jungle influence in it, especially with the slightly darker tone, compared to Take Me Away.

Club / DJ Support
Jay Cunning, Billy Bunter, the Fat Controller, Liquid, Hyper On Experience, Glowkid, Slipmatt, Dj Jedi, Dj Luna-C, Dj Brisk, Paul Bradley, Jimni Cricket, Bustin, Jimmy J, Doughboy, Lowercase, Dave Skywalker, Ponder and many others

Following the precursor singles of 2021, Formality Jerne-Site’s unveiling is finally cast upon her already-growing fanbase. Trained classically as a composer and completing a masters at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, Jura introduces a highly-anticipated playground of carefully sculpted characters, plots and lessons - sometimes charming, sometimes nefarious, always absolute and sincere. A fictional land opens its doors and roof to us. A trio of trans kids run amok in rural suburbia. Various sorcerers of the wild future enter the scene on some songs; on others, the mind is cast to sun-drenched drives and journeys of yesteryear. At the heart is a pop sensibility: yearning, reflections, vanity, guesswork, hope. Jura is adamant about practice and precision. Dead seriously she offers, about making music: ‘Nothing should be half-hearted or an accident.’ There’s a maturity and elegance to her compositions, arrangements that - although at first sound seem abstract - lean away from experimental, somehow. She sing-speaks in English, and somehow not typically theatrically for such a play of a record. The theatrics are all real. It’s a fantasy land for sure, but it's based on hard facts. Like academia subdivided into poetry. It’s that weird-ass specificity she mentioned. Opener ‘Someone’s Lifework’ introduces less a choir of voices, than a choir of personalities. The art of storytelling is at the center of the musical expression. A protagonist relinquishes control of chaos that’s bigger than them on a perilous journey on some vessel: they comfort their co-passengers. There’s a sense that the hero - or anti-hero - might be more canny and cunning than the sweetness they first sell to fellow players. 'Is this our getaway chance?’ sings fellow Copenhagener Ydegirl amongst swelling synths and reverb that become so definitely Jerne-Site as the quest continues. The search? For intimacy, perhaps. ‘Same late Age (dIcK bIfFeReNcE)’ imbibes at once, some further disorientation, perhaps a little hallucinatory feeling which may come over the listener. Through a synthesizing of political themes that work across time ‘Same Late Age (dIcK bIfFeReNcE)’ bears reminiscences of the musical expressions of anti-capitalism in the 1980es, although in a new body and context. “I have a feeling that music reconjures societal morals and ideas from the time in which it was written when we press play or hear a live performance. From the moment at a concert when the symphonic orchestra starts tuning in, the time traveling begins. So I imagined how it would be to be trans sitting there playing the first violin, having the job of producing that first tone that all the other musicians around me tune in ona, ” Jura explains. The listener yearns for more; and subsequent tracks deliver. On ‘How Intimate It Gets,’ Jura meditates on the futility of closeness, begging the audience to enter the blood and guts of their own entanglements, the blueprints of focusing entering. Jura sings richly about fingers being lines, pointing or bending, and we’re reminded of their own wicked ways we can’t control. A history of singing in choirs informs the harmony of myriad inner voices heard across the album. At once prophetic and enigmatic, some of the songs rearrange historical events out of pop musical language. The enormously entertaining ‘Pinot-Botticelli Toast to European Users’ conjures scenes of Cold-War world leaders stuck on a cruise in the Transatlantic vacuum, and the protagonist watches a devastating heartbreaker careen on into the picture, led by his own hips on ‘The Lasceaux Associate’. Finally, on title track ‘Formality Jerne-Site’, American English rises to the occasion like a verdict around the narrative of three trans teenagers in rural Colorado: language turns into something sensual and haptic, playing with the snare and sizzle of syllables. The words twist and bend, while the music follows its own synaesthetic logic: “around us pop culture made a vow to a normative desire, drawing in like water color percussion”. Anyines is a site of play and documentation, with a canon so far quite nice. Their future is one that envisions supporting the galaxies their dear friends embody, be it music, performance, video games or beyond. Highlights from their discerning back catalogue include myriad formats: live and digital, plus releases binded to physical artefacts that enhance the live experience such as sculptures and scents. Their history also includes disappearing time-sensitive shadow-tracked material and cross-disciplinary opportunities that reflect deep professionalism and a totally non-schooled semblance of sound and drama. Recent releases include a dance-theatre soundtrack, a traditional shiny pop record, and the acclaimed ML Buch sophomore, Skinned.

Beginning life in 2018 in the home of songwriter Myles McCabe experimenting with shouty, electronic bedroom pop ME REX are equipped with multitudes of “surging gargantuan hooks”, McCabe was quickly joined by longtime friends Kathryn Woods (guitar/vocals), Phoebe Cross (drums/vocals) and Rich Mandell (bass/keys/vocals). In 2021 the band released their debut album Megabear: a record built from 52 short tracks intended to be played in shuffle mode in order for the listener to create their own perfect combination of songs. In 2022 they dove headfirst into follow-up EP Pterodactyl which saw them change pace and tact throughout — constructing delicate vocal layers with luscious swathes of guitars and keys to build a bridge between their raw DIY past and a bright, creative future. Across all four songs on new EP, Plesiosaur, ME REX focus their attention on catchy choruses and snappy rhythms. With Toilet of Venus acting as an extension of Lager Door, the former track looks at present struggles as opposed to the latters inherent nostalgia, Jupiter Pluvius looks theologically at the idea of projecting strength and power onto inanimate objects, all wrapped in sharp wordplay and vibrant fuzzed out guitars and keys that are addictive as hell. Described as “nothing short of an artistic triumph” by Brooklyn Vegan— as well as seeing praise from Pitchfork, DIY, Rocksound, Line Of Best Fit, BBC 6Music, Radio X, Amazing Radio, Audiotree, The I Paper and Baby’s Alright— ME REX are showing no signs of slowing down.

James 'Perturbator' Kent and Cult of Luna are the masters of their respective worlds. Over the last decade, the French maestro has become the most expectation-breaking name in synthwave, transcending its '80s video game aesthetic with metal and post-punk.

Meanwhile, the Swedish sextet have affirmed themselves as post-metal's biggest stars. Seismic riffs, earth-quaking growls and brave collaborations with everyone from Julie Christmas to Colin Stetson have ensured they're as blistering as they are forward-thinking.
Eclecticism and violence are married in Final Light: Perturbator's team-up with Cult of Luna singer/guitarist Johannes Persson. The pair's self-titled debut album is the perfect conglomerate between seemingly incompatible sounds.

On its opening track, the insidious "Nothing Will Bear Your Name", synths bubble to construct an arresting opening half. Then, release. Johannes' roar strikes and guitar chords boom as computerised beats anchor the chaos.

"It Came with the Water" echoes Cult of Luna's 2013 titan Vertikal, invoking images of an urban dystopia as its deep guitar melody grinds beneath sci-fi electronica. The title track's distorted EDM beats, on the other hand, are all James 'Perturbator' Kent, capable of invigorating the seediest of underground nightclubs. Both parties are clearly playing to their strengths - but for them to do so in such perfect harmony is, in itself, a genre-demolishing feat.

Lyrically, Final Light seethes with anger. "There was so much that I was so fucking pissed about," Johannes explains. "Some of my friends were dealing with a poisonous person: a narcissistic, crazy person. I was walking around full of anger and hate, so I think that came out in those lyrics."

The tandem's story began in 2019. Walter Hoeijmakers, the artistic director of the Netherlands' lauded Roadburn festival, approached James 'Perturbator' Kent with the opportunity of doing a commissioned piece with any musician of his choosing. As soon as the pair began work on their boundary-decimating songs, they knew that they had to be immortalised as an album.

"It was immediate," states Perturbator. "It's a project that I really want to share; it's not only the fruit of a collaboration between me and one of my favourite musicians, but also very unique and once-in-a-lifetime."
They wrote and recorded together in Paris before the start of the pandemic. Covid, which postponed the Roadburn festival at which the band would have debuted, gave them time to perfect what they'd crafted.
Johannes recorded additional vocals at Cult of Luna's resident studio in Umeå, Sweden, fully capturing the rage of his apocalyptically harsh voice.

Borders were built to be shattered. This is the sound of their destruction. Single-handedly, Final Light have birthed a new, bleak breed of experimental metal.

James 'Perturbator' Kent and Cult of Luna are the masters of their respective worlds. Over the last decade, the French maestro has become the most expectation-breaking name in synthwave, transcending its '80s video game aesthetic with metal and post-punk.

Meanwhile, the Swedish sextet have affirmed themselves as post-metal's biggest stars. Seismic riffs, earth-quaking growls and brave collaborations with everyone from Julie Christmas to Colin Stetson have ensured they're as blistering as they are forward-thinking.
Eclecticism and violence are married in Final Light: Perturbator's team-up with Cult of Luna singer/guitarist Johannes Persson. The pair's self-titled debut album is the perfect conglomerate between seemingly incompatible sounds.

On its opening track, the insidious "Nothing Will Bear Your Name", synths bubble to construct an arresting opening half. Then, release. Johannes' roar strikes and guitar chords boom as computerised beats anchor the chaos.

"It Came with the Water" echoes Cult of Luna's 2013 titan Vertikal, invoking images of an urban dystopia as its deep guitar melody grinds beneath sci-fi electronica. The title track's distorted EDM beats, on the other hand, are all James 'Perturbator' Kent, capable of invigorating the seediest of underground nightclubs. Both parties are clearly playing to their strengths - but for them to do so in such perfect harmony is, in itself, a genre-demolishing feat.

Lyrically, Final Light seethes with anger. "There was so much that I was so fucking pissed about," Johannes explains. "Some of my friends were dealing with a poisonous person: a narcissistic, crazy person. I was walking around full of anger and hate, so I think that came out in those lyrics."

The tandem's story began in 2019. Walter Hoeijmakers, the artistic director of the Netherlands' lauded Roadburn festival, approached James 'Perturbator' Kent with the opportunity of doing a commissioned piece with any musician of his choosing. As soon as the pair began work on their boundary-decimating songs, they knew that they had to be immortalised as an album.

"It was immediate," states Perturbator. "It's a project that I really want to share; it's not only the fruit of a collaboration between me and one of my favourite musicians, but also very unique and once-in-a-lifetime."
They wrote and recorded together in Paris before the start of the pandemic. Covid, which postponed the Roadburn festival at which the band would have debuted, gave them time to perfect what they'd crafted.
Johannes recorded additional vocals at Cult of Luna's resident studio in Umeå, Sweden, fully capturing the rage of his apocalyptically harsh voice.

Borders were built to be shattered. This is the sound of their destruction. Single-handedly, Final Light have birthed a new, bleak breed of experimental metal.

Written and recorded during the pandemic, Aaron Watson's 'Unwanted Man' takes the listener on a full circle journey from isolation and despair to loving redemption. Aaron wrote or co-wrote all eleven songs on 'Unwanted Man,' showcasing both his trademark love songs in “When I See You” and “Nothing On You” as well as his popular classic uptempo romps with “Cheap Seats” and “Heck Of A Song”. 'Unwanted Man' is Aaron’s 14th studio album and his 18th album overall. Every album Aaron has released since 2010 has landed firmly in the Top 10 on the Billboard Country Album Chart with three debuting in the Top 5. For the past 20+ years, Watson has achieved success on his own terms, hand-building a lauded career through songwriting, relentless touring and nearly twenty self-released albums. His independent Texas spirit and strong work ethic are emblematic of the western lifestyle; virtues which have taken him from humble honky-tonks of Texas to multiple sold-out tours around the world. Rolling Stone calls him "Texas country's reigning indie underdog" and The Boot remarks that Aaron is "a pure expression of his traditional country ethos.” His 2015 album 'The Underdog' was the first independent album in the history of country music to top the Billboard Country Album Chart. Aaron Watson’s career is perhaps summed up best by Forbes, who says he’s "one of country music’s biggest DIY success stories." A self-made businessman, chart-topper, and road warrior whose authenticity has made him a country music staple, Aaron Watson is here to stay.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Following on from their ground-breaking 1988 self-titled EP, Godflesh's
debut full-length was an absolute game-changer and still stands as one
of industrial metal's most defining documents to this day
Drawing from post- punk and industrial acts like; Swans, Big Black, Killing Joke
and Throbbing Gristle as much as the more metallic and punk influences that
informed guitarist/ vocalist Justin Broadrick's previous band Napalm Death, the
pounding, drum- machine powered sonic assault of 'Streetcleaner' sounded like
nothing else at the time, breaking down people's perceptions of what a metal
band could sound like. You can still feel the album's broad influence everywhere
from the dense atmospheres of post- metal to the abrasive beats of modern
industrial and techno outfits, but despite its many imitators, there's still nothing
else that quite captures the feelings of paranoia, anxiety and urban decay that
'Streetcleaner' so deftly articulates.

BLEEP was the hype par excellence at the beginning of the techno movement in 1990/91. BLEEP – inspired by the beeping sound of small toy robots – stood for a phase of good mood and sounds that had never existed before. LFO with their groundbreaking track of the same name and Tricky Disco were two protagonists of those happy days.

More than 30 years later, Jürgen Laarmann (editor of the legendary Frontpage Magazine 89-97, promoter of Love Parade and Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) had the thought that nothing is missing in current electronic dance music as much as bleep.

The idea came about when discussing how to create a soundtrack for the art and techno hype of the day and the crypto art moving currenting stirring up the art market. The comeback of bleeps in a new guise is surely a tried and true remedy: the Bleep Gigaverse makes the blockchain shake.

With his old friend and Bash Records buddy Mijk van Dijk, Laarmann developed the NFT anthem with the striking Fazer bullet intro and a fat 2022 bleep that has been extensively tested on post-Corona dancefloors. Club legend Justus Köhncke (Whirlpool Productions among others) himself a big Bleep fan and Laarmann’s neighbor, contributed a house mix. Most recently, they managed to bring the great Michael Wells – the Godfather of Bleep into the Bleep Gigaverse. He contributes as Tricky Disco with all new bleeps and also with a Hardstyle mix, so the EP offers a spectrum with really different mixes.

May it bleep forever now!

By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann
BLEEP war für wenige Monate zum Beginn des Technomovements in 1990/91 der Hype schlechthin. BLEEP – angelehnt an das fiependen Sound von kleinen Spielzeugrobotern – stand für eine Phase guter Laune und Klängen, die es nie zuvor gegeben hatte. LFO mit ihrem bahnbrechenden gleichnamigen Track und Tricky Disco waren zwei Protagonisten jener glücklichen Tage.

Mehr als 30 Jahre später hatte Jürgen Laarmann (Editor des legendären Frontpage Magazins 89-97, Veranstalter von Love Parade und Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) den Gedanken, dass nichts der aktuellen elektronischen Dance Musik so sehr fehlt wie der Bleep.

Die Idee entstand, als man darüber diskutierte, wie man einen Soundtrack für den Kunst- und Technohype dieser Tage erschaffen könnte, jene Kryptokunst, die den Kunstmarkt aufwirbelte. Das Comeback der Bleeps in neuem Gewand ist das probate Mittel: das Bleep Gigaverse lässt die Blockchain erbeben.

Mit seinem alten Freund und Bash Records Kumpel Mijk van Dijk entwickelte Laarmann die NFT Hymne mit dem markanten Fazer-Geschoss Intro und einem fetten 2022er Bleep, der auf den Post-Corona Dancefloors ausgiebig getestet wurde. Club Legende Justus Köhncke (u.a. Whirlpool Productions), selbst großer Bleep Fan und Laarmann‘s Nachbar, steuerte einen housigen Mix bei. Zuletzt gelang es ihnen, mit dem großen Michael Wells den Godfather of Bleep ins Bleep Gigaverse zu holen. Er steuert einen NFT Tricky Disco mit ganz neuen Bleeps und einen Hardstyle Mix bei, so dass die EP ein Spektrum mit wirklich unterschiedlichen Mixen bietet.

May it bleep forever now!

By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann

Back on vinyl for the first time in 3 decades, Hysterics is pressed on double silver vinyl LP. As essential vinyl reissue from the recently revived King Rocker stars. Following the release of the critically acclaimed King Rocker documentary (staring Stewart Lee), Robert Lloyd’s cult post-punk are selling out tours and receiving the long-overdue recognition they deserve. Long out of print, rarity-packed deluxe edition of their second album is a worthy follow-up to that of their debut and a harbinger of great things to come.

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

RARE RECORDINGS BY SEMINAL HIP_HOP GROUP TUFF CREW - This record is a double album vinyl set w/ unreleased bonus material/tracks. - Tuff Crew is known throughout the world as Philly's first Rap super group. They've toured extensively with some of the biggest names in Rap music such as Public Enemy, Run-DMC, Biz Markie, Big Daddy Kane, Rob Base and LL Cool J. The response to Tuff Crew's music has been nothing short of stellar. On a national level, their single "My Parta Town" peaked at #23 on the Billboard Rap charts, while their album Back to Wreck Shop reached #74 on the Billboard R&B album charts. Estimates of Tuff Crew's global sales are in excess of three million units. Tuff Crew's body of work has resulted in a dedicated legion of fans across the world and their DJ Too Tuff has been the recipient of various accolades throughout his career. DJ Z-Trip advised that the technique of DJ Too Tuff inspired him to be a scratch DJ. Three time global DMC scratch champion DJ Q-Bert also notes Too Tuff as one of his inspirations. And A-Trak, Kanye West's DJ, has also voiced his adoration of the turntable techniques of DJ Too Tuff. Although Tuff Crew made an incredible mark on the musical landscape, they unfortunately fell victim to bad management and infighting. It was during this time period that DJ Too Tuff, the man behind legendary Tuff Crew sound, gathered the finest of Philly's underground MC's and began work on a solo project. The new Tuff Crew album, containing the finest of DJ Too Tuff's solo work, is entitled DJ Too Tuff's Lost Archives. DJ Too Tuff's Lost Archives will be highly sought after, and is destined to become an instant collector's item. For fans of of Eric B and Rakim, Public Enemy, Ultramagnetic MC's, Run DMC and Wu-Tang Clan, this record is not to be missed.

The Decades Collected compilations are part of the Collected compilation series, which is a collaboration between Universal Music and Music On Vinyl. The compilations bring together the biggest names of each decade, combined with forgotten hits and less discovered gems, giving the listener an experience of listening to their favourite tunes while uncovering new musical grounds at the same time.

Various Artists - Seventies Collected features classic tracks and forgotten gems: Queen “Somebody To Love”, Billie Joel “Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)”, Lou Reed “Vicious”, Blondie “Atomic”, Paul McCartney & Wings “Mrs. Vandebilt”, Rodriguez “Sugarman”, Patti Smith Group “Dancing Barefoot”, Roxy Music “Dance Away”, Big Star “Thirteen”, Leon Russell “A Song For You”, 10CC “Dreadlock Holiday”, Grace Jones “La Vie En Rose”, Rush “Closer To The Heart”, Gerry Rafferty “Right Down The Line”, Minnie Riperton “Les Fleurs”, The Brothers Johnson “Strawberry Letter 23” a.o.

Various Artists - Seventies Collected is available on black vinyl and includes an insert.

Having scooped the prestigious Record Store Day Unsigned 2020 award, her debut album 'In The Blue Corner' was released as a limited edition run on turquoise sparkle vinyl in November 2021. Now available on a full digital and physical release including a new vinyl pressing on dusk blue coloured vinyl. "Loving this. Really cool voice_ love the voice!" Craig Charles (6Music) // "The most original sound. Like Little Richard, Mark Ronson, Nina Simone and Nick Cave all got locked in a New Orleans speakeasy" Record Store Day Unsigned Panel 2020 // "Wow, I mean what's not to like about that? That is sensational! How groovy is that?! Mark Radcliffe, BBC 6Music // "What a voice!" Robert Elms, BBC London // "Her voice is stunning, powerful and unique, and her stage presence hits the back of the room at any venue she plays" DJ Anne Frankenstein, Jazz FM // Included in Craig Charles' Funk and Soul 'Ones to Watch 2022' list. From London via Lagos, charismatic chanteuse Sister Cookie will take you on an eclectic excursion into the roots & fruits of black music. Old sounds, new tricks. Sensuous, seductive and moody. As well as possessing a distinctive voice that's tender and sweet when it needs to be, she's a composer and self-taught pianist who writes honest and raw songs about pain, heartbreak, suffering - all that bad (meaning-good) stuff. A mainstay on the vintage Soul & R'n'R circuit since 2015 with slots at Wilderness, Latitude, Red Rooster, Port Elliot and more under her belt - as well as touring across Europe with her band - Sister Cookie has so far been supported by Craig Charles, Mark Radcliffe & Cerys Matthews at 6Music, Robert Elms on BBC London plus plays on Resonance, Jazz FM and Amazing Radio. Craig Charles is a big supporter on BBC 6 Music and has played current single 'Ain't No Good (But It's Good Enough For Me)' several times. Steve Lamacq and Lauren Laverne have also given the track multiple plays. The track has also been playlisted at Jazz FM. Singles from the album have been played many times across European radio stations including France Culture, Rock Radio (Greece), Radio Nova (Portugal), Mach 5 (Italy), HR Radio Sijeme (Croatia). She's performed at some of the UK's most esteemed venues including the 100 Club and Union Chapel, The Round Chapel and has enjoyed a number of stints as a guest vocalist with The Soulful Orchestra, Jim Jones & The Righteous Mind, Future Shape Of Sound & MFC Chicken. Sister Cookie Is going to be part of the judging panel for Record Store Day Unsigned competition in April, the competition she won in 2020.

Nightports is based on a simple but unbreakable rule of restriction: only sounds produced by the featured musician can be used. Nothing else. These sounds can be transformed, distorted, translated, processed and reprocessed, stretched, cut, ordered and reordered without limitation. Nightports w/ Tom Herbert is the third in a series of albums from musician-producers Adam Martin and Mark Slater to be released on The Leaf Label, following 2018's Nightports w/ Matthew Bourne and 2020's Nightports w/ Betamax. Tom Herbert made his name as the bass player in Mercury Music Prize-nominated bands Polar Bear and The Invisible, and has become an in-demand collaborator and session musician, including work with Adele, Lana Del Rey and most recently The Smile. Having honed his craft holding the low-end down in some of the most forward-thinking British groups of recent times, and also appearing on some the biggest tracks of the last twenty years, Nightports w/ Tom Herbert brings Herbert's command of the double bass into the spotlight.

"We're a bunch of outsiders who refused to be kept out," says High Pulp drummer Bobby Granfelt. "We've never had an academic approach to jazz-most of us grew up playing in DIY bands-so it was the rawness and the energy and the absolute freedom of the music that called to us in the first place." Indeed, there's something defiant, something utterly liberating about High Pulp's remarkable ANTI- Records debut, Pursuit of Ends. Drawing on punk rock, shoegaze, hip-hop, and electronic music, the band's brand of experimental jazz is both vintage and futuristic all at once, hinting at times to everything from Miles Davis and Duke Ellington to Aphex Twin and My Bloody Valentine. The songs here balance meticulous composition with visceral spontaneity, and the performances are nothing short of virtuosic, fueled by raw, ecstatic horn runs ducking and weaving their way around thick bass lines and dizzying percussion. While the Seattle-based collective is centered around a crew of six core members, they also make judicious use of a broad network of collaborators on the album, wrangling special guests like sax star Jaleel Shaw (Roy Haynes, Mingus Big Band), harpist Brandee Younger (Ravi Coltrane, The Roots), GRAMMY-nominated trumpet?er Theo Coker, and keyboardist Jacob Mann (Rufus Wainwright, Louis Cole) to help stretch the boundaries of their already-expansive sonic universe. The result is a lush, cinematic collection that's as unpredictable as it is engrossing, an urgent, exhilarating instrumental album that manages to speak to the moment without uttering a single word.

Danish singer-songwriter Soren Munk releases his debut solo album Purr Show on 15 April 2022 via Navarino Records.Soren also travels the world as a cameraman for Channel 4 News, and the album was written and recorded in between trips to cover some of the major global events of recent times, from the war in Mali to the Taliban resurgence in Afghanistan

Soren also co- wrote the much- loved theme tune to the hit animated TV series Charlie and Lola – which is currently trending on TikTok with millions of views.Despite the nature of his news work, the songwriting on Purr Show has a more private focus, dealing in intimate but ambiguous moments of love and loss.

Melodic and intense, the album has elements of Dream Pop, Slowcore and classic songwriting, while the blend of electric guitars, analogue synths and vocals draws on the work of artists that combine restraint and power, such as Neil Young, Low, Big Star and Elliot Smith. Soren worked with Andy Ramsay from Stereolab to record the album, and Jimmie Robertson (Depeche Mode, Arctic Monkeys) during the mixing Soren explains, “I wanted to create slow pop songs. Romantic and melodic but with an edge of strangeness that makes them harder to pin down. That's the music I respond to – things that are assertive but fragile at the same time. Where every element counts.”Soren drew together a strong lineup of musicians and collaborators, including guitarists Garo Nahoulakian (Emiliana Torrini, Gaz Coombes, Piney Gir) and Nick 'Growler' Fowler (Gaz Coombes, Luke Haines); a Danish rhythm section of drummer Nikolaj Bjerre (Lamb) and bassist Andreas Jensen (Dub Pistols); and
pianist Tom Dyson (co-writer of the Charlie and Lola theme). Soren's vocals are often combined on the songs with the soft alto of backing singer Emma Faulkner, creating a sense of something confidential, like snatches of pillow talk.

ltd edition box set, 4xlp + poster & dl card. rewriting the history of music, pere ubu continue to confound convention and shift personnel. the next box set in fire records’ reissue series, ‘nuke the whales’ houses 4 lps originally released between 2006 and 2014 – ‘why i luv women’, ‘carnival of souls’, ‘lady of shanghai’ and ‘long live pere ubu!’. ‘nuke the whales,’ is a nod of respect to a couple in cleveland who would daub such messages over the big news stations’ advertising boards. “very few bands display such dedication to constant self-reinvention as pere ubu” the quietus // all four albums have been remixed and remastered by original pere ubu member david thomas. ‘why i luv women’, originally released on glitterhouse in 2006, gains its first vinyl release. "spews 11 tunes of arcane lyrics and dense music” shrieked the cleveland gazaette. it’s joined by ‘long live pere ubu’ a soundtrack to a musical adaptation of the play. “skronking, squalling rhythms and melodic snippets undulating round a pulsating soundscape." record collector // and ‘lady from shanghai’, their fire debut for fire in 2013. originally released on the 35th anniversary of the group's debut, ‘the modern dance’, a latter day re-evaluation of the unprompted dance genre. and its follow up ‘carnival of souls’, a haunting “underscore’ to a tale of alienation, it “combines metallic percussion, spare guitars and david thomas' muttered vocals into something rustic and rickety, yet threatening at a moment's notice.”

7" Black Vinyl limited to 1000 copies.

Teenagehood, brotherhood and a genuine love for alternative music has united THE GOA EXPRESS from the off. Hailing from the industrial town of Burnley and adopted by the Manchester culture carriers, their teenage years can be viewed as something of a hedonistic pilgrimage into the underbelly of suburban rock and roll- their first gig having been 3 songs blasted out their mates garage, the next on top of a local vintage shop where the floor nearly caved in: “when there’s fuck all, you make do with what you got”. The intensity of this friendship has resulted in the occasional bust up along the way, yet it only adds to the burning chemistry that the band offer on record and on stage. Together, brothers James Douglas Clarke (Guitar + Vocals) and Joe Clarke (Keys), along with Joey Stein (Lead Guitar), Naham Muzaffar (Bass) and Sam Launder (Drums) all contribute to a fuzzy wall of diverse sound, becoming harder to pin down with their constantly evolving, psych-umbrella’d, rock and roll. What sets THE GOA EXPRESS apart from other musicians who sit comfortably within scenes is that their identity as a band has been growing organically long before the 5 of them decided to pick up instruments and teach themselves art of killing time. Their genuine joy in the everyday; their attitude and antics seem to hark back to the glory days of the NME- if they talk about a night out, you want to be there because these lads ooze charm and wreak havoc. This purist, old school approach to creating music through unified experiences and stimulated good times is married with the plain fact that they are very much young people of this generation, and while they see its flaws its hyperreality, its sheep-like tendencies, they still understand the importance in the immediacy of pop music: of a banging riff, or a glorious chorus and how effective this can truly be, and they want everyone along for the ride. With influences ranging from Spacemen 3 and The Brian Jonestown Massacre to French existentialism, from Beat Literature to long hours working at the Bookies to the journey into the sunrise on the night bus home, it is their ability to be all these things at once which makes THE GOA EXPRESS a guitar band for the 21st Century. Nothing is ever a compromise because they are so unapologetically themselves in everything they do- proud Northerners with a DIY foundation that aren’t afraid to look into the often dim future and see themselves shining brightly in it, unforgiving and unpretentious. So far, the band have released 3 singles with great success. The first: ‘Be My Friend’, produced by Ross Orton right next Sheffield’s famous ‘City Sauna’ brothel, presents itself to us as a cheeky, snarling pop song, holding undertones of raw cynicism laden with psychedelic sunshine. Ross Orton’s studio was also right next door to where the band recorded their last single ‘The Day’ with Nathan Saoudi of Fat White Family at ‘Champ Zone.’ Both these producers have been able to give these instant pop classics a grittier feel, capturing the essence of the unfettered lifestyle the band were living at the time that they were able to capture themselves in the music video for ‘Be My Friend’. After signing with Ra-Ra Rok, (WU-LU/Bingo Fury) the band released anthemic summer hit ‘Second Time’, that went straight to the 6 music B-List before quickly heading up to the A-List 2 for 2 weeks. This was followed by the release of its B-Side ‘Overpass’ that almost immediately caught the eyes and ears of BBC Radio 1’s Jack Saunders, who had the band on his ‘Next Wave’ Segment. Closing the year that saw them play to 1000 strong crowds at festivals like Latitude & End of the Road, the band headlined their biggest headline show to date at Manchester’s Gorilla. Its fair to say that this really is only the beginning.