Cerca:bio nic

2025 Repress in Arctic Pearl Vinyl
Alles fließt, nichts bleibt wie es ist. Diese philosophische Erkenntnis gilt auch für das dritte Studioalbum der aufstrebenden niederländischen Rockband DOOL. Der treffende Titel "The Shape of Fluidity" zielt keineswegs nur auf die musikalische Innovation. Sondern das Album dreht sich um Themen wie persönlicher Wandel, physische Veränderung, psychologische Weiterentwicklung und die sich erneuernde Welt um uns herum. DOOL und insbesondere Sänger/in und Gitarrist/in Raven van Dorst stellen Fragen: Wie wirkt sich der Wandel auf uns aus? Wie bleiben wir uns selbst in einer Welt treu, die so unglaublich herausfordernd und aggressiv gegenüber dem Individuum ist? Wir müssen so fließend wie Wasser sein, um in diesem Ozean von Möglichkeiten und Ungewissheiten erfolgreich zu navigieren - und Frieden mit Chaos und Unbeständigkeit zu schließen. Musikalisch setzen DOOL den auf den beiden vorangegangenen Studioalben eingeschlagenen Weg fort, der emotionale Rockmusik mit Elementen aus dem Metal kombiniert. Dabei demonstrieren die Niederländer eine auffällige Reife und Kontrolle im Songwriting, die aus Jahren der Erfahrung gewachsen sind. "The Shape of Fluidity" zeigt eine eklektische, aber nahtlose Verschmelzung von Progressive und Post-Rock sowie Doom und Heavy Metal, die mit einer stets präsenten Eingängigkeit und hintergründigen Dynamik kombiniert sind. Es ist offenkundig, dass sich das Album thematisch mit dem Konzept der Identität vor dem Hintergrund einer sich ständig verändernden Welt befasst. Die Texte des Albums sind eng mit der Biografie von Leadsänger/in Raven verknüpft. Von Geburt an intersexuell, entschieden die Ärzte chirurgisch, dass der Säugling als Mädchen durchs Leben gehen solle. Dies führte zu einer Existenz auf der Suche nach der eigenen Seele, dem Kampf gegen Tabus und die Überschreitung von Grenzen, bis Raven vor kurzem beschloss, das zurückzufordern, was andere versuchten hatten, ihnen wegzunehmen - und ihre hermaphroditische Natur zu akzeptieren. Der Bandname DOOL leitet sich vom niederländischen Wort für "Wandern" ab. Bereits das im Jahr 2017 erschienene Debütalbum "Here Now, There Then" landete einen sofortigen Volltreffer. Der frisch-wilde Rock- und Metalsound aus den Niederlanden wurde von den renommierten deutschen Magazinen Metal Hammer und Rock Hard zum "Album des Monats" gekürt. Auch Vice (US), Aardschok (NL) und De Volkskrant (NL) überschütteten die junge Band mit Lob. Mit ihrem zweiten Album "Summerland", das 2020 erschien, übertrafen DOOL die ohnehin schon hochgesteckten Erwartungen. Es gab weitere "Album des Monats"-Auszeichnungen in den deutschen Magazinen Rock Hard (10/10) und Sonic Seducer sowie eine #2 Soundcheck-Position in Metal Hammer (DE) und Metal.de, und eine weitere #1 im polnischen Metal Hammer - mit einem Berg herausragender Kritiken auf beiden Seiten des Atlantiks. Mit "The Shape of Fluidity" bieten DOOL sehr viel mehr als nur verdammt coole Musik. Die zusätzlichen Dimensionen von Tiefe und Bedeutung sind Teil ihres einzigartigen Reizes und kommen auf dem neuen Album deutlich zum Vorschein. Mögen sich alle, die wandern, unter der fluiden Flagge von DOOL versammeln!

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Madronas’ debut LP Erogenous Biome is an amorphous, murky, cathartic offering. A duet of modular synthesizer and winds that’s equal parts doom and ecstasy, it’s the sound of a majestic butterfly emerging from it’s slimy chrysalis just in time to catch the sun setting on the end of days, a bewitching, heavy ceremony, a power-wash of both mind and spirit.

Tracked in one continuous take at Brooklyn’s Heavy Meadow studio, individual tracks were gleaned from the purge and eschew predictable structures, making for a dense, fluid suite of improvisation, like dancing smoke ribbons in the dark. The duo's chosen sound sources are seemingly opposite - Ry Fyan’s modular’s coming from electronic oscillators, Isaiah Barr’s saxophone and various flutes originating with the breath - but the visceral, imprecise, alive quality to the sound of both lends the record a thrilling combination of rapturous harmony and gritty, intense friction.

Opening the session in ritualistic, foreboding fashion, Voluntary lurches to life with rattles and wandering, bassy arpeggios before a suona’s cry signals the seance has officially begun. Ostraca Loam spits explosive modular rhythms and eerie shrieks for the flute to float above, while Detritus Harp smudges mechanical whirring, pensive horn and wind chimes for an untethered drift. Petrified Microdot swells with menacing sci-fi sequences and breathtaking sax runs until they both run out of breath, and Negative Lingam starts out in a panic of breathy riffing before exhaling into one of the most sublime passages on the record. Rhythmic pounding and undulating flutes punctuate Lenticular Shroud, before The Preparation Of The Novel sets the winds aside for a synthesized dual fit for electric dreams. The title track dominates the B-side, it's shimmering levity slowly unfurling to reveal itself as a kind of post-apocalyptic devotional music, deep space drifting grounded by earthly flutes, and Vale Of Cashmere offers an ascetic, contemplative closure, sparse flute and chiming rhythms organic or electronic - by this time it’s hard to know, it doesn’t matter either way.

Erogenous Biome is a world of it’s own, and one Impatience is honored to offer a window into.

RIYL - Senyawa, witchcraft, Colin Stetson , Civilistjavel, Mars (the planet), Finis Africae, raga, Stephen O’Malley, modular synthesizer, Anthony Braxton, Shabaka.

Madronas is Ry Fyan and Isaiah Barr. Fyan is a painter and tattoo artist, this is his first release. Barr is a prolific instigator of the downtown New York scene, producing and playing saxophone in jazz circles with his group Onyx Collective, as a player and/or producer on records by Nick Hakim, David Byrne and Wiki, performing live with William Parker and as part of his projects Universal Space Jam and Cafe Dewanee.

Erogenous Biome was recorded and mastered by Griffin Jennings at Heavy Meadow, Brooklyn.

Vinyl was cut by Beau Thomas at Ten Eight Seven Mastering, Berlin.

Artwork is by Ry Fyan, typography and layout by Nicolas Turek.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

'Through Today' is the sophomore album for rising Australian band Chimers. A husband / wife duo comprising life partners Padraic Skehan (vocals / guitar) and Binx (drums / vocals). Recorded by Jono Boulet (Party Dozen) over two days at Stranded Studios, Wollongong and mixed at Boulet’s Sydney home studio, produced by the band and veteran manager / promoter / producer Tim Pittman (Feel Presents), 'Through Today' features ten tracks of tightly-coiled intensity that barely lets up for all of its 34 mins. In enlisting Boulet, the band were confident that due to his own experience of being one half of Party Dozen, they had someone who understood the confines of working within the structure of a two-piece but also the possibilities that creates. Boulet, in turn, rewarding that trust by capturing a powerful bedrock of sound that allowed the band's taught rhythms to circle and permeate and yet give full breathing space for the melody within. For Pittman’s part, having a third ear on hand to devote serious listening time and critical commentary was an added bonus. It’s a major step forward from the band’s 2021 self-titled debut. A twelve track effort that snuck out during covid and only hinted at the power within. "Our debut felt more like just trying to capture the songs we had at the time, we weren’t sure if we’d even release it or if it would be our only album" "This time around we were intent on capturing the energy and intensity of our live show on the recording but with a more produced sound than self-titled. We worked more on song structure previous to the sessions. We rehearsed a lot playing quietly so we could actually talk to each other whilst playing the song and iron out any kinks.” “Jono turned the whole live room into a drum room, mics everywhere. The guitar amps were situated outside to prevent too much spill but still recorded live along with about half of the vocals. Second guitar and the rest of the vocals were recorded the next day. Jono was super quick and had the same work ethic and mindset, get in, get it done. If the first take was good enough, move on.” - Padraic Lyrically Chimers maintain the intensity as they tackle the themes of love, life, death and relationships, distance from home (Padraic is Irish, moving to Australia in 2001) and the current political climate providing enough drama to fuel a forest fire. Guest musicians on the album include saxophonist Kirsty Tickle - also of Party Dozen - and violinist Jordan Ireland of The Middle East. Both of whom were invited in on short notice adding their respective parts in just 1-2 takes each without any prior knowledge of the material. Binx too showing added versatility contributing lead vocals to An Echo and sharing lead across 3AM, Generator and others. “Singing is not something that comes naturally to me, and it was at the last minute before we went into the studio that Padraic suggested I sing the lead in An Echo. Having very minimal musical instruments within the band I think having the two different vocals adds a nice dynamic to the record.” - Binx 'Through Today' is a great album. Solid and confident from the get go. No waste. No unnecessary fat. Should it be Chimers last it would remain a defining statement of originality and intent. But it’s not the last, it’s just the beginning. And there’s plenty more where that came from. BIO Like many good bands Chimers are a band born of isolation, not geographically though, via the pandemic. Irish born Padraic Skehan and his life partner Binx, formed the band in their Wollongong backyard during the initial lockdown of 2020. Veterans and drummers both of the ‘Gong’s vibrant garage-scene – The Pink Fits, The Drop Offs, Evol and more – Chimers is an altogether different beast, Padraic taking a giant leap forward by removing himself from the back-seat and assuming the role of driver; singing, playing guitar and writing the songs that would eventually become their 2021 self-titled debut album. It’s a sound and album that draws heavily on Skehan’s time as a youth in Ireland and the post-hardcore sounds of Dischord Records, Husker Du, The Wipers and which has seen the band find friends and favour in like-minds The Mark Of Cain, Henry Rollins, Guy Picciotto and Mudhoney. This is no mere nostalgia though, the band instead landing at the vanguard of a new generation of Sydney and surrounds bands – Body Type, Second Idol, Dust, Private Wives, R.M.F.C – borrowing from the past in order to create a future.

American director and actor Eli Roth takes you on a forbidden journey across the vaults of legendary Italian soundtrack label CAM Sugar. Setting the mood for his very own red light discothéque, Tarantino’s right-hand man and Italian B-movies connoisseur has sourced and selected 20 juicy tracks, spanning from kinky disco and funk to seductive bossa nova and psych, from Italian Sexy Comedy and softcore films (1969-1981). It includes 9 previously unreleased tracks with 4 previously unreleased on vinyl and music by some of Italian film music's most cult composers, including Stelvio Cipriani, Bruno Nicolai, Riz Ortolani, Franco Campanino, Gianni Ferrio, Nico Fidenco as well as unique vocal performances by actress and Italian sexy comedy actress Gloria Guida.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Max Richter, der gefeierte Komponist, der dafür bekannt ist, traditionelle Orchestrierung nahtlos mit modernen elektronischen Elementen zu verbinden, bereitet sich darauf vor, sein mit Spannung erwartetes Album
zu veröffentlichen. Dieses Album markiert eine bedeutende Entwicklung in Richters musikalischem Werdegang, da er sich intensiver mit Themen wie Optimismus und der Polarität des Lebens und menschlicher
Emotionen auseinandersetzt, begleitet von einer tieferen Erkundung elektronischer Klänge und Feldaufnahmen.
Mit seiner jahrzehntelangen Karriere und prägenden Projekten wie SLEEP oder Vivaldi Recomposed kann
Max Richters Einfluss auf Musik und Kultur gar nicht hoch genug eingeschätzt werden. Seine unvergleichliche Fähigkeit, tiefgreifende menschliche Erfahrungen in musikalische Kompositionen zu übersetzen, hat
ihm weltweit eine treue Anhängerschaft eingebracht.
Seither begeisterte Max Richter weltweit ein Millionenpublikum und berührte damit nicht nur bewährte
Kenner, sondern auch völlig neue Generationen von Hörern, sei es in Filmen wie Ad Astra, oder Serien, wie
zuletzt in den Netflix-Erfolgsformaten Bridgerton oder The Crown.

Dienne creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss combining analogue instruments with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources. Her new album "Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence.

"Abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances" serves as the guiding principle for Belgian composer, Dienne, as she builds songs and soundscapes that portray the images and stories that play behind her eyes.

Combining analogue instruments like the oboe, the piano, and the flute with reverb-drenched vocals and shimmers of processed electronic sources, she creates hazy pieces of music full of the melancholy of remembrance and loss.

Her debut album Addio (2022) was released on Nicolás Jaar's Other People imprint. Addio is a 32-minute study on loss and mourning. Following the death of her grandmother due to Covid-19, and unable to say a proper goodbye due to travel restrictions, Dienne set out to give her "Addio" through musical form. The result is a deeply intimate work that channels classical instrumentation through foggy electronic experimentation.

Memories, biographies, and family histories merge in this simultaneously somber and optimistic work which plays out like a universal and comforting ode to lost loved ones. Her second album, Conducturis, accompanies an immersive film installation delving into speculative fiction, conceptualized by Mira Sanders and Cédric Noël. Conducturis will be released on Cortizona at the end of January 2025.

Conducturis is an immersive film installation project that delves into the realms of speculative fiction, employing the cinematic language of the road movie to envision the ramifications of constructing an artificial brain within the Swiss landscape.

Following their encounters with key figures in the Human Brain Project during an art research expedition in Geneva from 2019 to 2020, conceptualized by Cédric Noël & Mira Sanders, they stumbled upon a remarkable discovery: a hidden fiber-optic cable linking Geneva to Lugano.

Anchored at both ends by the Human Brain Project in Geneva and the CSCS (Centre Suisse de Calcul Scientifique) in Lugano, this conduit facilitated the transmission of intricate brain simulations from the imposing computational hub in Lugano to Geneva via a 'superconductor' cable.

While the nuances of this fiber network eluded the naked eye, Sanders & Noël meticulously pored over maps, gathered endless data, and traversed the terrain. In crafting "Conducturis", they chose to portray an immersive journey along this IT infrastructure connecting Geneva and Lugano, exploring the curious allure of dreaming about artificial landscapes.

The accompanying originalscore by Dienne invites audiences to delve into the intersection of human creativity and machine intelligence. Guided by the principle of being "abundant in beauty and rich in disturbances", Dienne embarks on a sonic exploration of the Swiss landscape, translating its ethereal beauty and technological wonders into evocative musical compositions.

"How can a human sound like a machine?"

This intriguing question lies at the heart of Dienne's artistic endeavor. For her, the soundtrack of "Conducturis'' transcends mere musical notes; it embodies a profound philosophical exploration into the essence of human creativity amidst the rise of artificial intelligence.

Similarly, "How can a human being compose like a machine?" serves as a pivotal inquiry guiding Dienne's creative journey. As she navigates the delicate boundary between human expression and machine cognition, she skillfully intertwines the pulsating rhythms of data transmission with the haunting melodies inspired by artificial landscapes.

Drawing inspiration from the cinematic aesthetics of the road movie genre, as envisioned by Sanders & Noël in their speculation on the construction of an artificial brain, Dienne weaves a sonic tapestry that transports listeners on a contemplative journey through mountains, lakes, and cities.

Each track for "Conducturis" becomes a testament to the fusion of brain and landscape, inviting audiences to ponder the limitless potential of human imagination.

As audiences immerse themselves in the evocative world of "Conducturis", Dienne's soundtrack serves as a guiding force and perfect companion, leading them through a transcendental experience where reality and imagination merge, and the symphony of human and machine harmonizes seamlessly.

"Conducturis" emerges as a sensory exploration of the human spirit and the boundless horizons of artificial intelligence. With Dienne's soundtrack as its heartbeat, this project invites audiences to embark on a voyage of discovery, where the echoes of human creativity reverberate across the digital frontier.

The Soultrend Orchestra is a side project of the producer and musician Nerio ‘Papik’ Poggi.
Owner of the main project, Papik, Nerio Poggi has been one of the most internationally renowned Italian producers for the Nu Jazz
Lounge sound for over ten years, with around forty albums under his own name and those produced by him with solo artists or
with monothematic collections such as the ‘Cocktail’ series.
With the project The Soultrend Orchestra, Nerio Poggi has dedicated himself in particular to the Soul Jazz and Disco sound, with
a particular eye on the 70s/80s sound that starts from artists such as Roy Ayers, George Benson and Donald Byrd to arrive at the
Acid Jazz sound of Incognito and The Brand New Heavies.
The first album '84 King Street', released in 2017, was the one most dedicated to the Disco sound, also for the title that reports the
address of the legendary New York club Paradise Garage from where Disco music in the late 70s was definitively launched all over
the world by the deejays David Mancuso and Larry Levan in primis.
With the second album of 2022 'Live For Funk' the sound ranges more towards Soul and Jazz thanks to some songs that have driven it such as About Love openly inspired by the sound of Roy Ayers.
This third album, produced like the second Live For Funk together with Peter De Girolamo (aka P.A. Jeron) is due out at the beginning of 2025 and is titled Non Imagine where he continues in the search for these same sounds.
With some of his closest collaborators such as Alfredo Bochicchio, Massimo Guerra, Simone ‘Federicuccio’ Talone and vocalists
Laura Lanzillo, Erika Scherlin and Anna Fondi, the album as always also has other illustrious guests such as Wendy D. Lewis, Ely
Bruna, Nadyne Rush, Filippo Perbellini, Stevie Biondi and Nicole Magolie on lead vocals.
In the tracking list we also find some covers in this album: Lost In Music, a symbolic song of Disco by Neil Rodgers and Bernad
Edwards (Chic) made famous in the 70s by Sister Sledge, and Summer Madness, a very particular song by Kool And The Gang,
famous for its magical atmosphere here perfectly rendered by Peter De Girolamo's keyboards and Anna Fondi's voice.

Der britische Gitarrist/Produzent Phil Dawson lernte sein Handwerk bei Legenden wie Hugh Masekela, Tony Allen, Mulatu Astatke oder DJ Osibisa.

Auf "Don't Waste Your Ancestors' Time" kreiert er eine Fusion aus afro- und afro-brasilianischen Grooves, hochkarätiger Improvisation und Dub und wartet dabei mit etlichen Kollaborateuren auf, die die Musik in neue Richtungen treiben, darunter Spoken-Word-Künstlerin Khadijatou Doyneh (Heliocentrics), Saxophonist Tony Kofi (Abdullah Ibrahim, Jazz Jamaica, Cymande,), Pianist Sam Leak (Aquarium) und Afrobeat-Meister Dele Sosimi, der in Kontexten singt, in denen man ihn noch nie gehört hat. Der Albumtitel paraphrasiert den Romanautor Wole Soyinka in einer Bitte an alle, nicht wegzuwerfen, wofür ihre Vorfahren gekämpft haben – sei es durch die Missachtung des spirituellen Erbes, durch das Zulassen, dass wir gespalten und erobert werden, oder durch das Wegschauen gegenüber zeitgenössischen Ungerechtigkeiten.

Die schwedische Produzentin und DJ La Fleur bricht drei Jahre musikalischer Stille mit ihrem bevorstehenden und lang erwarteten Debütalbum 'Väsen', das am 18. Oktober bei PIAS Électronique erscheint. Ihr unverkennbarer Stil ist technisch hervorragend ausgearbeitet und zu gleich hochemotional. Ihre neuen Songs, die ständig überarbeitet wurden, haben eine optimistische, positive Kraft und melodische Schönheit über komplexen Perkussionsschichten, die so mit Hooks geschmückt sind, dass man die Ohren nicht davon abwenden kann.

Während der Pandemiejahre zog La Fleur von Berlin zurück nach Schweden und arbeitete als leitende Angestellte in einem Stockholmer Krankenhaus. Eine krasse Veränderung nach einem Jahrzehnt mit ihrem eigenen Label Power Plant, zahlreichen Kollaborationen und gefeierten DJ Set und Auftritten. Die gezwungene Pause nutzte sie, weiter an ihrem Debütalbum zu feilen, das 2020 eigentlich schon fertig war, doch ihre geänderten Lebensumstände sollten noch einen Einfluss darauf haben: „I’ve always drawn inspiration not only from music, but changing elements in my life. It’s only now I feel I have the tracks ready for the world to hear.“

- Col. LP: (Green Bio-Vinyl)

Die meisten Bands schreiben Songs über Alltagserlebnisse, Liebesgeschichten, Gedanken zur Welt. Public Service Broadcasting sind anders. Das Quartett aus London taucht tief in die Archive ein und macht aus historischen Begebenheiten packende Konzeptalben. Mit Samples aus alten Nachrichtenfilmen, Archiv- und Propagandamaterial formt die Band packende Geschichten, getragen von cineastischen, meist instrumentalen Rock-, Elektro- und Orchesterklängen.

Dies gilt auch für das neue Album: "The Last Flight" handelt von der letzten Reise der US-Flugpionierin Amelia Earhart, die mit nur 25 Jahren begann, eine Reihe von Rekorden aufzustellen: Sie überquerte als erste Frau im Alleinflug den Atlantik und Pazifik, ihr gelangen mehrere Geschwindigkeits- und Streckenrekorde. Doch ihr Plan, als erste Frau die Welt am Äquator zu umrunden, ging nicht auf. Sie überquerte Amerika, Afrika, den Nahen Osten und Asien, erreichte aber nie die letzte Zwischenstation vor der finalen Pazifik-Etappe, die Howlandinsel. Die bis dahin grösste Suchaktion der Luftfahrtgeschichte mit 4 Flugzeugen und 8 Kriegsschiffen blieb erfolglos. Stattdessen stieg Amelia Earhart in mythische Höhen auf, die nur den mutigsten Abenteurern vorbehalten sind.

Songschreiber J. Willgoose, Esq. war vom "Mythos Earhart" fasziniert: "Ich wollte eine Geschichte mit einer Frau im Mittelpunkt erzählen, weil ein überwältigender Teil des Archivmaterials, zu dem wir Zugang haben, männlich geprägt ist." Aufgenommen im Londoner Bandstudio, mit einem Tag für die Streicher des London Contemporary Orchestra in The Church, sind auf "The Last Flight" u.a. Carl Broemel (My Morning Jacket) an der Eno-artigen Pedal-Steel-Gitarre, die Berliner Stimmen Andreya Casablanca (Gurr)und EERA, sowie Kate Stables (This Is The Kit) zu hören.

Die Zuhörer mögen überrascht sein, dass das Album keine originalen Zeugenaussagen aus erster Hand enthält, sondern neu aufgenommene Dialoge von Schauspielern, darunter Kate Graham, die Amelia vorlas. Diese wurden behutsam bearbeitet, um ihnen Klangeigenschaften und Verzerrungen der 1930er Jahre zu verleihen. Als Ausgangspunkt dienten Earharts Aufzeichnungen aus erster Hand, darunter "Last Flight" von 1937, sowie die Biografie "East To The Dawn" von Susan Butler.

Clear Vinyl

Die meisten Bands schreiben Songs über Alltagserlebnisse, Liebesgeschichten, Gedanken zur Welt. Public Service Broadcasting sind anders. Das Quartett aus London taucht tief in die Archive ein und macht aus historischen Begebenheiten packende Konzeptalben. Mit Samples aus alten Nachrichtenfilmen, Archiv- und Propagandamaterial formt die Band packende Geschichten, getragen von cineastischen, meist instrumentalen Rock-, Elektro- und Orchesterklängen.

Dies gilt auch für das neue Album: "The Last Flight" handelt von der letzten Reise der US-Flugpionierin Amelia Earhart, die mit nur 25 Jahren begann, eine Reihe von Rekorden aufzustellen: Sie überquerte als erste Frau im Alleinflug den Atlantik und Pazifik, ihr gelangen mehrere Geschwindigkeits- und Streckenrekorde. Doch ihr Plan, als erste Frau die Welt am Äquator zu umrunden, ging nicht auf. Sie überquerte Amerika, Afrika, den Nahen Osten und Asien, erreichte aber nie die letzte Zwischenstation vor der finalen Pazifik-Etappe, die Howlandinsel. Die bis dahin grösste Suchaktion der Luftfahrtgeschichte mit 4 Flugzeugen und 8 Kriegsschiffen blieb erfolglos. Stattdessen stieg Amelia Earhart in mythische Höhen auf, die nur den mutigsten Abenteurern vorbehalten sind.

Songschreiber J. Willgoose, Esq. war vom "Mythos Earhart" fasziniert: "Ich wollte eine Geschichte mit einer Frau im Mittelpunkt erzählen, weil ein überwältigender Teil des Archivmaterials, zu dem wir Zugang haben, männlich geprägt ist." Aufgenommen im Londoner Bandstudio, mit einem Tag für die Streicher des London Contemporary Orchestra in The Church, sind auf "The Last Flight" u.a. Carl Broemel (My Morning Jacket) an der Eno-artigen Pedal-Steel-Gitarre, die Berliner Stimmen Andreya Casablanca (Gurr)und EERA, sowie Kate Stables (This Is The Kit) zu hören.

Die Zuhörer mögen überrascht sein, dass das Album keine originalen Zeugenaussagen aus erster Hand enthält, sondern neu aufgenommene Dialoge von Schauspielern, darunter Kate Graham, die Amelia vorlas. Diese wurden behutsam bearbeitet, um ihnen Klangeigenschaften und Verzerrungen der 1930er Jahre zu verleihen. Als Ausgangspunkt dienten Earharts Aufzeichnungen aus erster Hand, darunter "Last Flight" von 1937, sowie die Biografie "East To The Dawn" von Susan Butler.

The 2024 biographical drama film Back To Black explores the life of the iconic talent Amy Winehouse, played by Marisa Abela. The biopic is directed by Sam Taylor- Johnson and written by Matt Greenhalgh.

Nick Cave and Warren Ellis crafted the evocative soundtrack for the biopic Back to Black, which chronicles the rise and impact of Amy Winehouse. Their composition is a haunting yet soulful homage, blending melancholic strings and ambient soundscapes to mirror Winehouse’s turbulent journey and profound artistry. The duo’s music underscores the film’s emotional depth, capturing both the rawness of Winehouse’s struggles and the brilliance of her musical legacy.

"The 2024 biographical drama film Back To Black explores the life of the iconic talent Amy Winehouse, played by Marisa Abela. The biopic is directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson and written by Matt Greenhalgh. Nick Cave and Warren Ellis crafted the evocative soundtrack for the documentary Back to Black, which chronicles the rise and impact of Amy Winehouse. Their composition is a haunting yet soulful homage, blending melancholic strings and ambient soundscapes to mirror Winehouse's turbulent journey and profound artistry. The duo's music underscores the film's emotional depth, capturing both the rawness of Winehouse's struggles and the brilliance of her musical legacy. The music of Black To Black is cut on 45 RPM and is available on black vinyl and includes 4-page booklet with liner notes by director Sam Taylor-Johnson.

Schwarzes 140g Bio-Doppel-Vinyl mit bedruckten Innenhüllen ohne Beilagen



Einstürzende Neubauten präsentieren ihr neues Album. Sie suchen nach neuen Formen. Nach dem unentdeckten Ton und dem noch unausgesprochenen Wort. Seit ihrer Gründung am 1. April 1980 verschieben die Einstürzenden Neubauten die Parameter von Mainstream und Subkultur, um das Unhörbare hörbar zu machen. Und vielleicht auch das Unerhörte. Ein sich über vier Dekaden erstreckender Feldforschungsversuch, der nun ins nächste Stadium tritt. In ihrem 44. Bestehensjahr geht die Formation weit zurück zu ihren Wurzeln, um sich gleichzeitig neu zu definieren. Ein verändertes Selbstverständnis, für das das Berliner Quintett plus eins 2024 sein eigenes Genre kreiert hat: apm - alien pop music. Ständige Weiterentwicklung - so könnte man das Schaffen der Einstürzenden Neubauten kurz und knapp zusammenfassen. Eine musikalische Evolution, die beim 1981 veröffentlichten Albumdebüt "Kollaps" beginnt und sich nun auf dem im April 24 erscheinenden Album "Rampen - apm: alien pop music" manifestiert, auf diesem präsentieren sich Blixa Bargeld, N.U. Unruh, Alexander Hacke, Jochen Arbeit, Rudolph Moser und Felix Gebhard nun von ihrer unberechenbarsten und eigenwilligsten Seite. Auf ihrem neuen Album setzen die Neubauten nun allen Sound-Spekulationen ein - wenn auch spätes - Ende. Schon seit Mitte der 1980er-Jahre experimentieren die Einstürzenden Neubauten auf der Bühne mit sogenannten Rampen: Öffentliche Improvisationen mit offener Entwicklung und Ausgang; Abschussrampen ins noch Unerforschte, die die Band im Jahr 2022 auf ihrer letzten "Alles in Allem"-Tournee im Zugabenteil performte und deren Mitschnitte als Basis für das neue Album dienen. "Rampen - apm: alien pop music" ist Popmusik für Paralleluniversen und Zwischenwelten. Für Hyperräume und Interzonen. Mikrokosmisch und intergalaktisch zugleich. Eine demimondäne Behauptung außerhalb aller physikalischen Gesetze, mit der die Einstürzenden Neubauten ein stilistisches Niemandsland zwischen Vergangenheit und Zukunft betreten. Rückkehr zu den Wurzeln einerseits, andererseits entsteht aus lärmgewaltigen Kracheruptionen, auf kryptische, oftmals fragmentarische Lyrics treffend, eine neue Kunstform: Populäre Musik für Aliens und Außenseiter. Aus Anti-Pop ist Alien Pop geworden. Fremdartig. Kokonhaft versponnen. Ungehört. Sonus inauditus. Nicht ganz unabsichtlich erinnert das reduzierte Coverartwork an das ikonische Layout des "Weißen Albums" von den Beatles. "Ausgehend von der Idee, dass die Einstürzenden Neubauten in einem anderen Sonnensystem ebenso berühmt sind wie die Beatles in unserer Welt", so Blixa Bargeld über die Gratwanderung zwischen Avantgarde und Augenzwinkern, Provokation und popkultureller Diskontinuität. Womit auch direkt das zentrale Thema vorgegeben wäre, das sich wie ein roter Faden durch alle Songs zieht: Veränderung, utopische Gedankenspiele und Vergänglichkeit. "Ich habe auf der Platte ein paar Lösungen gefunden und Dinge formuliert, wie ich sie vorher noch nicht formuliert habe, weil sie mir noch nicht so klar waren. Ich bin jemand, der denkt, durch Musik Erkenntnisse zu gewinnen. Das war schon immer so. Die Überzeugung, in der Musik etwas zu finden, was ich vorher nicht wusste. Und etwas zu singen, was ich vorher nicht wusste. Etwas, was sich dann als Wahrheit herausstellt. Oder zumindest als sinnvoll, wenn man es ein wenig kleiner halten will." Dieses Album repräsentiert die nächste Stufe der Evolution, auf der man die bekannte Sprache schließlich hinter sich gelassen hat. Und die Eröffnung weiterer, unendlicher Möglichkeiten: alien pop music.

Louis Armstrong ist nicht nur einer der Schöpfer des Jazz, sondern mit Trompete und unverwechselbarer
Stimme eine auch heute noch enorm beliebte Pop-Legende. Diese bislang unveröffentlichte Live-Aufnahme
ist ein neues Juwel im Katalog des Künstlers, der seine größten Hits hier in swingenden, mitreißenden
Versionen präsentiert.
Im Sommer 1968 reiste Louis nach London, nur wenige Wochen nachdem er mit seinem Überraschungshit
”What A Wonderful World” Platz 1 der britischen Charts erobert hatte, und nahm in den BBC-Studios
einen Auftritt voll ansteckender Vitalität auf. Er selbst hielt diese Aufnahme für eine der besten seiner
gesamten Karriere.
Fünf Jahrzehnte nach seinem Tod veröffentlicht Verve den Mitschnitt jetzt erstmals komplett und frisch remastert auf Vinyl, CD und in digitaler Form, begleitet von ausführlichen Linernotes von Armstrong-Biograph
Ricky Riccardi. Hier erlebt man „Satchmo“ in all seinen Facetten, mit Jazzklassikern wie “Indiana” und
“When It’s Sleepy Time Down South”, seinem Chart-Hit ”What A Wonderful World” und Versionen von
Evergreens wie ”Mack The Knife” oder ”The Bare Necessities” aus Disneys „Dschungelbuch“.