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Giulio Campagnolo, born in 1986, is an accomplished Italian jazz pianist and Hammond organ specialist whose
musical journey spans over two decades. His passion for music ignited at the age of 8 when he began studying
piano, and by 14, he had already delved into jazz under the guidance of masters D. Memoli and M. Polga. At
20, Campagnolo further honed his skills at the prestigious Siena Jazz summer seminars, while simultaneously
intensifying his concert activities with various jazz, blues, and soul ensembles. In 2012, he made a pivotal
shift in his career, dedicating himself exclusively to the Hammond organ and perfecting his craft with A. Marsico. The following year marked the beginning of his teaching career at the "Filarmonica Bassanese" Association in Bassano del Grappa, where he continues to instruct piano, organ, and ensemble music.
Campagnolo's formal education culminated in 2020 when he graduated with honors from the Conservatory
"A. Pedrollo" in Vicenza under the tutelage of maestro P. Birro. Throughout his career, Campagnolo has made
significant contributions to the music world, recording about ten albums as a sideman and four as a co-leader.
His debut solo album, scheduled for release in autumn 2024, is eagerly anticipated. Campagnolo's talents
have allowed him to collaborate with a diverse array of acclaimed musicians in both the jazz and blues scenes,
including Y. Silberstein, W. Bernard, N. Hempton, E. Martin, S. Waterstown, and U. Porcaro, among others. His
musical prowess has taken him across Europe, performing at jazz and blues clubs and festivals in Italy, Spain,
Switzerland, France, Germany, and beyond, establishing him as a truly international artist. Currently, Campagnolo leads his own quintet, featuring Piero Bittolo-Bon, Michele Polga, Federico Pierantoni, and Adam Pache,
for which he composes and arranges the repertoire, showcasing his skills not only as a performer but also as
a bandleader and composer.

Writing music, for singer-songwriter and producer Fine, “feels like being entrusted with a secret.” On Rocky Top Ballads, the Copenhagen-based musician’s debut album, these secrets take the form of minimalist compositions that search for glimpses of beauty in the everyday. Recorded, produced, and mixed by Fine, the album is a mystical soundtrack to a captivating songwriter’s explorations of process and intuition.

“The whole album is about the moments when you see a crack in something,” Fine explains, “where you briefly see another side of yourself or of someone you've known forever.”

Fine grew up in Denmark’s rural Northern Jutland; there, her father’s guitar and banjo playing formed the sonic backdrop of her childhood. In the years since, her musical curiosity has led her to work across a range of styles and sounds. In her early twenties, she became part of Danish electronic trio Chinah, which released three albums. You might also have caught her sampled vocals on the joyfully rollicking Two Shell song “Home,” from 2021. Then, last year, she — along with Erika de Casier and Smerz — co-wrote three songs for the massive, critically lauded K-pop group New Jeans. Fine is also a part of Clarissa Connelly Canons group back home in Denmark, and writes music under the moniker Coined with composer and songwriter Astrid Sonne.

But Rocky Top Ballads is a turn back towards a more personal, stream-of-consciousness songwriting style. Fine wrote and recorded these songs sporadically over the course of the last few years. In light of Chinah’s collaborative, piecemeal production style, Fine craved a more organic, intuitive process for these songs. Her work on the record combines sample-based production with the sounds of instruments she and her collaborators could hold in their hands, ones that inspired free-flowing improvisation: electric and acoustic guitar, even the Ensoniq keyboard that was in her childhood home. The resulting songs are equally inspired by the country and folk of her childhood, the hazy beauty of Mazzy Star, the avant-garde pop of Dean Blunt, and the songwriting of ’90s singer-songwriters like Suzanne Vega.

Fine describes her songwriting process as a “magical thinking method”: being in contact with the present moment and pretending as if she already knows the song she’s about to write. Many of the songs on Rocky Top Ballads use the original takes of Fine’s vocals, an attempt to capture a song’s initial essence and avoid disturbing the song’s generative idea as much as possible. You can hear that well-preserved spark on songs like “Losing Tennessee,” a minimalist and wistful reflection on the inherent loss and change of growing older. She wrote other tracks, like the piano-led “Whys” and the woozy “Coasting,” through a process of cutting and layering her improvisations, carefully merging multiple musical snippets into newly seamless compositions. And the stunning closing track “A Star” is the product of a slow process of evolution: beginning as an understated expression of sincerity before dissolving into a rich, distorted guitar-driven exploration.

As a songwriter and producer, Fine’s work often peers into the universes of experience that can be hidden inside a fragmentary moment. Sometimes she explores this literally — as in “Days Incomplete,” which she built off a short sample from “A Star.” This impulse — to zoom in, to recontextualize, to excavate — threads throughout her lyrics, too. What happens, her songs ask, when we pay close attention to those everyday images and physical realities we might otherwise ignore: the sky, the rain, the sun, the sea? On the spacious and swoony “Big Muzzy,” with its gentle sway and Cocteau Twins-inflected vocals, Fine sings about watching the “summer turn blue”; the grooving, propulsive “Remember The Heart” is a love letter to the sea where she grew up. In her airy voice, Fine traces meandering melodies that continually unspool with fresh insights.

A particular mantra guided Fine’s songwriting throughout the creation of Rocky Top Ballads: “Everything has potential.” In these songs, small moments are worthy of deep contemplation, and gentleness can evoke worlds of emotion. The resulting songs offer a gift of momentary pleasure, flowing and unhurried as a gentle breeze.

Marissa Lorusso

In the crowded field of contemporary jazz AuB stands out on first listen. Reinventing the classic twin-tenor line up for the 21st century is a tough proposition, but top-flight UK virtuosi Alex Hitchcock and Tom Barford are more than equal to the task, not so much reviving the format as turning it inside out and upside down. For their brand new collection "Folk Devils" the two horns dance and dialogue over the scintillating team of Danish bassist Jasper Hoiby and French drummer Marc Michel in a series of compositions that perfectly balance complexity with powerful melody, drama with intimacy, angular post-funk with sombre, spacey beauty.

FIVE LIVE YARDBIRDS is the debut album by British blues-rock band The Yardbirds. It features ten American rhythm and blues songs reimagined in, what would become, The Yardbirds’ “rave-up” signature. The “rave-up” treatment was the art of stretching a song with instrumental interludes building to a climax and was pioneered by the band for their live shows.

The album was recorded at the Marque Club on Wardour Street, London in March 1964 and released in the UK in December that year. It was the inspiration of the bands manager Giorgio Gomelsky who wanted to capture and preserve their youthful energy and the electric atmosphere.

At the time of release, it was not well received critically and failed to chart. Subsequently it is acclaimed as the most important live album of the Sixties during the British rock boom. Aerosmith’s founding guitarist Joe Perry describes their version of Chuck Berry’s ‘Too Much Monkey Business’ as a blueprint for much of what Aerosmith tried to do.

On their debut 45 for Batov Records, Indonesia-based BABON deliver two irresistible jams, cooked from a recipe full of Indonesian flavours, Afro Latin funk, Morricone grooves, Bollywood breaks and blues, they call “Tropical Desert Music”. A must-hear for fans of Surprise Chef, Khruangbin, or Sababa 5.

Drummer Wahyudi T. Raupp and multi-instrumentalist Rayi Raditia, friends since high school in Jakarta, via university life in Melbourne, formed BABON in 2023 to address environmental issues through instrumental music, thus combining
two mutual passions.

Working in their home studio free of time restraints, Babon developed their “Tropical Desert Music’’ sound, mixing the energy and influences of Melbourne’s vibrant music scene, with traditional Indonesian forms, from the pulsating rhythms of dangdut, and gamelan, the ritualistic percussion ensemble music native to Java and Bali, to keroncong, a popular and melodic folk style; while addressing environmental concerns and societal complexities, such as the
impact of ruthless exploitation on tropical regions.

On the A-side, “Desert Rose” is a spaghetti blues dedicated to the widows marginalised and objectified by mine workers. Rayi’s electric guitar gently wails with the cinematic effect akin to a Tarantino soundtrack, over a hypnotic groove that never grows tired.

On the flip, “TNT” explores the moral dilemma faced by a miner torn between the destructive nature of his occupation and the dire financial needs of his family, leading to a downward spiral of alcohol abuse. Slowly raising tension levels,

BABON pit somber organ riffs over bass guitar fuzz and Indonesian-sounding guitar motifs, leading to a final explosion
of guitars and drums. BABON’s “Tropical Desert Music” perfectly complements Batov Records’ rich catalogue of Middle Eastern grooves and is an irresistible sound its own right with a poignant message.

World Seven is a record label brought to you by the Paris & London based Africa Seven crew . We have joined forces with a collective of label heads, music freaks & crusty crate diggers to expand our musical quest - to search the world for sounds, vibes & scenes which cross musical genres and geographical borders. It's all about the music brothers and sisters.

Michel Sardaby was born in Fort de France, Martinique in the French West Indies in 1935. As a child he was surrounded by music in his dad's brasserie. He became a child prodigy on the piano and went on to study art at the Boulle School in Paris before deciding to concentrate on a career as a jazz pianist. Throughout the 60's, he played piano with blues musicians like Sonny Boy Williamson and T-Bone Walker, at the same time beginning to release more jazz-focused solo albums.

The record was recorded in New York in 1975 and the personnel on record is formidable. Billy Hart (McCoy Tyner alumni) is on drums, Richard Davis on bass and Leopold Flemming on Percussion. Michel himself is on keys and delivers a Rhodes master class.

The album itself has been remastered specially for vinyl and pressed (at the request of Michel himself) on heavy weight vinyl.

Lara Sarkissian’s long-awaited debut full-length, ‘Remnants’ is an ornate patchwork of ancient and modern sonic shapes that uses the vernacular of electronic music to reformulate Armenian traditions and memories. Taking digitally modeled instruments (such as the kanun, a large zither, and the duduk, an ancient double reed woodwind instrument), vocals, davul and dhol drums, tenor saxophone (from acclaimed Paris-based player Adrien Soleiman) and myriad electronic elements and techniques, Sarkissian tangles the old and the new, creating an immersive, narrative-driven experience that’s powered by history, mythology and her own familial connection to the West Asian landscape. It’s an album that’s best absorbed like a film; only multiple encounters can reveal its layered themes and references to industrial music, noise, various club styles, ambient and traditional folk.

Born and raised in San Francisco and currently based in Los Angeles, Sarkissian has developed her unique approach to composition over years of relentless experimentation across various disciplines. Her interest in music production initially stemmed from her filmmaking and video editing work, when she began to sculpt her own sound collages and scores to accompany the visuals. Since then, she’s constantly blurred the boundary between dance and experimental music, DJing around the world, producing AV installations and scoring film and video projects that have been exhibited in Berlin’s Gropius Bau, Montréal’s Musée d’art contemporain, the Music Center Los Angeles and other prestigious institutions, and releasing music with labels such as Tresor, Knekelhuis, All Centre, Silva Electronics and CLUB CHAI, the label and event series she co-founded. In recent years, she’s also been able to advance the theory behind her art, publishing a conversation with ethnomusicologist Sylvia Alajaji in the Journal of the Society of Armenian Studies in 2021, and unveiling her methodology in Norient’s ‘This Track Contains Politics – The Culture of Sampling in Experimental Electronica’ a year later.

‘Remnants’ is a new stage in Sarkissian’s evolution as an artist; not only is it her first proper album, but it’s the inaugural release on her new platform btwn Earth+Sky. She sees the label as a place to encourage collaborations between musicians and producers and prioritize sound in visual arts realms, and ‘Remnants’ is the ideal proof of concept. It opens with ‘Heaven, or Paradise; and Hell’, a track that’s inspired by the layout of the Armenian sharakan (or hymn) ‘Aravot Luso’. Sarkissian imagines the original piece’s harmonies and melodies as parts of a dreamy electronic opera, using digital kanun sounds to punctuate her woozy, evocative synths. Soleimen joins on tenor sax in the third act, while Sarkissian repeats the chant and Jace Akira adds ghostly traces of electric guitar and bass. And on the rousing ‘Our Dead Can’t Rest (Old Jugha Flute Dance)’, Sarkissian chops urgent davul and dhol drum rhythms with spine-chilling shvi woodwind sounds lifted from a documentary about Old Jugha. The title is a reference to the moving of graves by Armenian families; the area initially housed over 10,000 elaborately carved khachkars (cross stones), one of which is pictured on the album’s cover, provided by historian Argam Aivazian’s archive.

On ‘Miracle’, Sarkissian samples atmospheres from the post-Soviet Armenian comedy film ‘Կիսանդրի’ (Kisandri). She takes this opportunity to lighten the mood a little, powdering her smudged samples with tightly edited breaks and bass thumps. It’s not until the album’s middle section that the duduk, perhaps Armenia’s best-known instrument, makes its appearance. Its familiar reedy tones, popularized by Djivan Gasparyan on his many Hollywood soundtrack appearances, emerge on ‘Unraveling (Interlude)’, weaving through the acidic ‘Zephyr’ and ‘Far from the eye far from the Heart’, a post-punk inspired stomper. Sarkissian mutates the instrument almost beyond recognition, pitching and layering it into a voice-like wail that creeps between her woody, dancefloor-primed percussion on the former, and turning it into a gentle, ghostly moan on the latter. And she brings ‘Remnants’ to a close with two of her most cryptic tracks, marrying digital kanun strings with Soleiman’s resonant tenor hums on ‘What Solace Can I Give’, and looping the same saxophone sounds until they dissolve into the air on the beatless closer ‘…nothing matters more than touching you although i haven’t touched you yet’.

It’s an album that ties up Sarkissian’s various interests and experiences, finding a romantic, poetic glimmer of light in history’s darkness. But most of all, ‘Remnants’ is about the optimism of starting anew, and rebuilding a life from the pieces of everything that’s been left behind.

The Blues and the Abstract Truth is not just a landmark album in Oliver Nelson's career but in the history of jazz itself

The album features an incredible ensemble of top-tier jazz musicians, often referred to as a "supergroup": Oliver Nelson (alto saxophone, tenor saxophone), Freddie Hubbard (trumpet), Eric Dolphy (alto saxophone, flute), George Barrow (baritone saxophone), Bill Evans (piano), Paul Chambers (bass), Roy Haynes (drums). The early 1960s were marked by a shift from the hard bop of the 1950s to more experimental forms, including modal jazz, free jazz, and the incorporation of avant-garde elements. Musicians like John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, and Charles Mingus were all pushing the boundaries of jazz, and Oliver Nelson's work fits within this broader movement: in this album there's a perfect combination of modern compositional techniques, virtuosic performances, and emotional depth make it an essential listening experience for any jazz fan. It captures the moment when jazz was evolving into new, exciting directions while staying connected to its roots in the blues. The Blues and the Abstract Truth is considered one of the essential albums in modern jazz where Oliver Nelson's compositional style blends hard bop, modal jazz, and blues influences with sophisticated harmonic structures and striking arrangements. The album is noted for ts rich orchestration despite having a relatively small ensemble with use of textures and colours, particularly in tracks like "Stolen Moments," created a new standard in azz arranging.

Hubbard was only 22 years old when he recorded the album, yet it showcases his prodigious talent and hints at the remarkable career he would go on to have

The album has become a classic in the hard bop genre, combining elements of bebop and blues with advanced harmonies and improvisational flair and features a stellar lineup of musicians, many of whom were already influential figures in the jazz world or would go on to become so Freddie Hubbard, Tina Brooks, McCoy Tyner, Sam Jones, Clifford Jarvis. "Open Sesame" is rooted in hard bop, a jazz style characterized by a mix of bebop's fast tempo and complex improvisations with blues, gospel, and R&B influences. Hubbard's trumpet playing is both aggressive and lyrical, marked by his technical precision and emotive phrasing. His performance is complemented by Tina Brooks' soulful tenor saxophone and McCoy Tyner's distinctive piano comping, which adds a rich harmonic layer. The album's compositions range from the upbeat and fiery title track "Open Sesame", to the lush ballad "But Beautiful", and the bluesy groove of "One Mint Julep". The track "Gypsy Blue", written by Tina Brooks, is a highlight with its sophisticated chord changes and melodic inventiveness. Open Sesame received critical acclaim upon release and established Hubbard as one of the premier trumpet players of his generation. It's considered a cornerstone of Hubbard's career and a significant recording helped launch Hubbard into a long and successful career where he would collaborate with some of the biggest names in jazz, including Art Blakey, Herbie Hancock, and Wayne Shorter and remains an essential listen for anyone exploring Freddie Hubbard's discography.

Ten years after its original release, after having sold thousands of copies on CD and collected millions of plays all over the world, "Canzoni" is finally available on vinyl, in a deluxe edition – double vinyl with gatefold sleeve – the album that revealed Chiara Civello's talent as an interpreter, attesting her artistic depth on international stages.

A record which embraces the Italian musical tradition in all its facets, capable of moving through Northern Soul, Bossa Nova, Blue Eyed Soul, Jazz and Pop. Produced by Nicola Conte, recorded in analog between Bari, New York and Rio de Janeiro, and enriched by the participation of extraordinary guests, including Gilberto Gil, Chico Buarque, Ana Carolina and Esperanza Spalding, with orchestral arrangements by the legendary Eumir Deodato, "Canzoni" still proves to be a very successful work today, capable of honoring the beauty and depth of Italian music, demonstrating once again Civello's status as a timeless musical icon.

CREDITS

Produced by Nicola Conte
Executive producer: Quarter Moon Inc.
Additional production: Ettore Caretta
Bari production coordination: Bass Culture

Orchestral Arrangements: Eumir Deodato
Flutes arrangement on "Senza Fine": Magnus Lindgren

Recorded mixed and mastered by Tommy Cavalieri at Sorriso Studios, Bari, Italy
Additional recording studios: CNSO Recording Studios, Prague / #AC Studio, GG Studios, Rio de Janeiro / Pat Dillet's Studio, New York City
Additional engineers: Eduardo Andrade, Renato Godoy, Pat Dillet

Gilberto Gil appears courtesy of GEGE Producoes Artisticas
Chico Buarque appears courtesy of MAROLA
Ana Carolina appears courtesy of Armazém Produtora e Editora Ltda

Album cover: Daniela Boccadoro
Photos by Fabio Lovino
Graphic layout: Eugenio Crippa















[o] 15: I Mulini Dei Ricordi (The Windmills Of Your Mind) [feat. Esperanza Spalding]

The songs that grace this comprehensive double vinyl package all come from the golden age of country music. For nearly a century now, country music has been captured on cylinder, vinyl, tape and compact disc. In America during the 1950s, while rock & roll battled calypso as the nation’s favourite sound, meanwhile in the background, these classic country songs could be heard across the land - all the way from the Gulf of Mexico, right up to the frozen wastes of Minnesota. After the golden age of what might be called pure country, came country-rock, alt-country and Americana. But the century of songs gathered together here is plain and simple country music - at its best

Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series, blurring the boundaries between text, music and voice, returns with their fifth instalment, an expanded version of Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, across its two sides the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist taps an almost dada sensibility, delivering a suite of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life.

Roughly a year ago, we had the pleasure of exploring the first two releases from Dischi Fantom’s emerging Sussurra Luce series, Ginevra Bompiani, Caterina Barbieri, and Tomoko Sauvage’s “Il Calore Animale” and Francesco Cavaliere’s “Zoomachia Disc 1”. An extension of the Milan based cultural platform Fantom’s broad and diverse activities (exhibitions, installations, performances, etc.) across numerous artistic disciplines, the series, curated by Francesco Cavaliere and Massimo Torrigiani, delves into the “science of imagination”, working with contemporary authors to explore and blur the boundaries between text, music and voice. Now the brilliant series returns with its latest entry, the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Released in a limited edition of 200 copies and coming with an LP-sized booklet, it combines orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, and it’s a stunning gesture of performative poetics that plums a startling range of subjects through its sonorous forms.

Working across the fields of text, vocal performance, sound installation, printed objects and sculpture, for more than a decade Hanne Lippard has deployed language as the raw material for her work. Working within a practice that rests at the juncture of the spoken and written word, drawing upon content appropriated from the public sphere (found text) intertwined with her own words, Lippard’s work investigates how the rise in digital communication and mediation reprograms our relationship to language, presenting the subsequent fragility of language - its flaws, oddities, and potential for misinterpretation - and its attempts to convey meaning and sense.

“Talk Shop”, the fifth instalment of Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series and Lippard’s third recorded release - building upon the ground of 2020's “Work”, issued by Collapsing Market, and 2021's “PigeonPostParis”, released by Boomkat Editions - began as a live performance. Combining orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, its relationship with the world of work today, and its personification through the experience of the human body - anonymity as the spearhead of the digital economy - the conceptual underpinnings of the piece depart from the notion that the human voice has become commodified by the ubiquitous nature of contemporary productivity, and intertwined with the mechanics of capital - the voices of satnavs, smart speakers and voicemail systems - while the written word has become increasingly anonymous online.

Addressing vocal anonymity as a spearhead of the digital economy, Lippard’s “Talk Shop” - regarded by the artist as “a compilation of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life” - taps an almost dada sensibility through its unexpected layers of meanings drawn from a maximalized approach to the potential of the human voice, creating an engrossing and challenging listen from the first sounding to the last, that continues to reveal itself and unfold with every return.

Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, it culminates as one of the most strikingly singular creative gestures we’re likely to encounter this year. Highly recommended and not to be missed.

Hanne Lippard (Milton Keynes, 1984) explores the social forms that govern discourse. Her artistic practice, which mainly takes the form of reading and sound installations, investigates the voice as an instrument of emancipation and alienation in times of hyper-connectivity. By mixing personal thoughts and appropriating texts from advertising, slogans and newspaper articles, the text becomes a mix of private and public that regains inventiveness and authorship through the use of the voice, becoming a body of its own. Her recent artistic research has focused on the use of the female body as a container of sounds, on the conscious and unconscious automation of speech and language.

12” paddling pool blue vinyl, is an edition of 500. CD Digifile. Following the runaway success of their critically acclaimed 2021 second album Contender, the question for fast-rising London four-piece Fightmilk was always going to be “what next?” With a tight indie-pop sound that defined their early recordings, the answer was obvious to a band who seem hellbent on the notion of evolve or die… The band originally formed in 2015 in a Brixton pub garden by Lily and Alex, who had both, separately, just been dumped and thought being in an angry punk band would cheer them up. Then they found Nick and Healey to hold the rhythm down and make them sound good. With three albums under their belt, they’ve perfected their chaotic, melodic brand of joy and rage-filled pop with full-throated yelling and sparkling guitar riffs as their trademark. They’ve graduated from angsty whippersnappers in their mid-twenties to overgrown teenage 30-somethings with mild ongoing back and shoulder pain. Their previous 2 albums Not With That Attitude (2018) & Contender (2021) marked them out as an ambitious and rising prospect, and now on their forthcoming new album No Souvenirs the band eschew their former Britpop ties and edge further into DIY punk and heavier rock influences to reveal a leaner, meaner, more abrasive side to their cathartic lo-fi anthems. Whilst collectively diving into their passion for Jimmy Eat World, frontwoman Lily Rae made a conscious decision to strengthen her “big loud yell” with influence from Alicia Bognanno (Bully), Nat Foster (Press Club), and Missy Dabice (Mannequin Pussy). “My voice is the biggest it’s ever been and I’m constantly thrilled when people are surprised at how loud I am, considering I’m so small in stature,” she grins. “Lyrically I always look to Bruce Springsteen for inspiration but I also really enjoyed the angsty candour of Sour by Olivia Rodrigo, and Kacey Musgraves’ impeccable one-liners.” There are a few genre experiments on the record—Yo La Tengo in ‘Paddling Pool’, ‘Canines’ is part The Strokes and part Neu!, and ‘Back From Tour’ was heavily influenced by long term friends Johnny Foreigner. “You could probably make a case for ‘Inferno’ having a bit of Counting Crows to it, but we were never writing to emulate,” explains guitarist Alex. “The references and touchstones just happened along the way. As far as we’re concerned, they just sound like Fightmilk - and that’s a really nice place to be nearly a decade in.” “That said, we’ve also been REALLY picky with the songs that made it onto the album - there’s probably an-other album’s worth of songs that didn’t feel right, even if we loved them. We got really good at finding the “magic thing” in each song that made it work.” Spilling over with candid lyrics about death, doomed love, and dog bites, framed by endless punk energy and the kind of full-throated riff-rock that sounds just at home in a giant stadium as it does in a sticky-floored toilet bar, No Souvenirs is a triumphant return from the band, who are equally enthused by the album. “I only realised after we put the songs together how personal to me this album was,” explains Lily. “Not just because I’m writing about extremely specific sitcom episodes in my life (getting fired from bridesmaid duty, being bitten on the arse by a dog, being relentlessly asked when I’m going to have kids), but because whilst we were making it, I turned 30. It’s a significant age for women, especially in music, because aside from being something called a ‘geriatric millennial’, there’s an unspoken rule that there’s a cut-off point for you to have ‘made it’ and after that you have to settle down and be normal.” For Lily, writing for the album also aligned with the 10th anniversary of the death of a close friend, with the resulting track ‘No Souvenirs’ lending its title to the album as a whole. “It had taken me that long to write about it in a way I felt ok with. But I realised that I couldn’t have written it before,” she explains. “I needed that distance, and that maturity, to be able to articulate those feelings. It feels to me now like the album is about scorched earth, moving on, taking nothing with you for the next ‘thing’ - and realising that getting older is a privilege.” Bringing a huge amount of energy and joy with them whenever and wherever they hit a stage, interacting with the audience is a vital part of the Fightmilk live experience. “Without people singing and dancing at us we wouldn’t have gigs at all, so we want everyone to get involved!” says Lily of the band’s future tour plans

"We could go so far as to say that it is the human condition to be grotesque, since the human animal is the one that does not fit in, the freak of nature who has no place in the natural order and is capable of re-combining nature's products into hideous new forms." So reckoned Mark Fisher in 'The Weird And The Eerie', which chronicled the means by which the uncanny can enter the everyday. Mwg Drwg, the second album from South Wales psychic seers Obey Cobra, is an album that dwells in exactly this kind of headspace, where the otherworldly meets the kitchen sink. Always a band who've sought out new dimensions to explore via their trademark warped post-punk, electronic and industrial influences, Obey Cobra have crafted surreal new shapes here. Taking influences as diverse as Diane Arbus, David Lynch and Sonic Youth, they balance out heaviosity and grace on the likes of the majestically discordant 'Ten Of Wands' Elsewhere, on the title track, the band sculpt a Jesus Lizard-esque rhythmic pulse, eerie vocal abstraction and the crepuscular downtempo atmosphere of Massive Attack's Mezzanine into a uniquely haunting dreamscape. Mwg Drwg is where the weird and eerie are amplified to intimidating proportions It's where grotesquely and beauty happily cohabit. It's an aural exorcism of William Friedkin proportions that demands your immediate attention.

"Even by the high-water marks set by Herbie Hancock’s tremendous 1960s Blue Note output, 1965’s Maiden Voyage remains one of the pinnacle artistic achievements of the great pianist’s career. Hancock is joined here by his Miles Davis Quintet bandmates Ron Carter on bass and Tony Williams on drums, along with Freddie Hubbard on trumpet and George Coleman on tenor saxophone. The quintet embarks on an oceanic exploration of five original Hancock compositions, several of which have since become enduring standards of the jazz lexicon including the title track, “Eye of the Hurricane,” and “Dolphin Dance.”
"

The two separate double vinyl sets are now available that correlate to the triple CD released earlier this year. TMTCH stumbled into existence onstage at the Alternative Country Festival, Electric Ballroom, Camden on Easter Sunday in 1984; after a long afternoon busking and drinking in a Hammersmith subway. They knew three chords and a hundred songs all of which sounded a bit the same, a frenzied skiffle that was exciting to jump around and drink snakebite to. If they thought about longevity at all, a lifespan of 40 days seemed most likely. It's forty years later and they are still running. Since those early days, and without much of a game plan other than always stepping onward, TMTCH have released around 20 albums plus many side projects, bootlegs, curios and an unknown number of T shirts. They've toured constantly, whether in dingy pub backrooms or Grand Ballrooms and Festival Stages. From Cairo to Reykjavik and all points in between, the TMTCH roadshow has shambled and thrilled through the decades, always passionate, always literate, occasionally dishevelled. Forty years of recording has spawned a vast back catalogue, well represented here by songs from each album, style and era; a tapestry of human stories and vibrant characters. So there are the fast sprints like early folk hoedown 'Ironmasters', the frantic shanty 'Raising Hell' and the amphetamine punk blues of 'Going Back to Coventry'. Then there are the waltzing folk ballads, from their impassioned version of the anti war standard 'Green Fields Of France' to the bitter regret of 'The Bells' and the righteous testimony of 'Our Day'. Elsewhere there are anthems galore; 'The Crest' a swirling gaelic chant, 'Rosettes', a fast marching assault of drums, fiddles and mandolins; historical epics such as 'Ghosts Of Cable Street', 'Shirt of Blue' and 'The Colours'; romantic ballads like the wistful 'Parted From You' and 'Island in The Rain'. All the eras are here; from the wiry lo fi of the first album, through the eighties into full blown MTV ready multi trackers with vast charging drums; the initial simplicity of their recipe deepening and darkening. And then on through the nineties, noughties and tens; always the double pronged vocals drifting between harmony and unison, always the celtic, folk and country tones vying for attention, the emotive fiddle, the top end mandolin above the thundering rhythm section. On through bouffant hair, spiky hair, dyed hair, thin hair and hats; on through Grunge, Baggy, Madchester, Rave, Britpop. On through the Miner's Strike, Poll Tax, New Labour, Iraq and Brexit. On through marriage, children, loss and revival. Forty years at the working end of rock and roll is a feat achieved by very few bands. It requires tremendous chemistry, a deep catalogue; both panoramic and miniature, a vital and irrepressible energy, all of which is on resplendent display in this sprawling 3 disc compilation. But most of all it requires an intense resilience, something that TMTCH possess in spades. Forty years on the run; was ever a band so aptly named?

Phenomenal ambient explorations from the talented French electronic producer

Music taken from the artistic performance led by visual artists Mark Pozlep and Maxime Berthou.
The new compositions by French electronic producer Julien Jabre illustrate the stunning visuals of the Franco-Slovenian duo.
Julien Jabre’s Soutien De Famille sees him exploring the subtle gaps and nuances of his past work, crafting ten tracks of low-lit ambient textures and non-percussive rhythms.
A deeply introspective listening experience, Soutien De Famille unfolds at times like the breathless pause before a storm’s fury, and at others like the serene hush of meditative calm, where time itself lingers in a quiet wave.
It's as if Julien Jabre’s compositions whisper the promise of clarity after chaos where every note breathes reflection into the vast expanse of possibility.

Limited Edition - 300 copies.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

"“Tenalach - The relationship with the land, the sky, the water and the deep connection that allows you to hear the earth sing and be one with nature”

Following on from their many mutual remixes and first collaborative EP “Pleamar” (Wonderwheel Recordings 2020) Chancha Via Circuito y El Búho return with a new EP “Tenalach"" which sees the duo enter new territories and soundscapes. This mysterious, atmospheric and melancholic EP is like the soundtrack to a videogame that takes place in a strange and wonderful parallel universe.

Imagine Zelda set in the jungles and mountains of Latin America.

Croaking frogs sit next to driving snares on the genre-defying Sapo Cururú, birds float above strobing synths on Oropéndola while Sumay’s epic synth lines melt into Chancha’s trademark percussions on Sumay. Opener El Samurai is perhaps the closest to the pair’s well-known folktronic sound, marrying cowbells with bowing violins and its animal-esque synth line.

While the BPM may have risen, this is neither ‘downtempo’ nor ‘umtempo’ and an EP that cannot easily be pigeon-holed - it is fresh and original. It also reflects a darker side to the pair’s music, a sub-conscious reflection of a changing world, holding in each song a constant tension and the desire to escape to new realities where the connection between humans and nature is blurred and equal."