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Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

The ten-track LP marks the latest collaboration of "Swiss born Gotham bred" (SPIN) indie rocker Sam Koechlin with his longtime producer / "Second Beatle" Daniel Schlett (Iggy Pop; The War on Drugs) and mastering engineer Greg Calbi and features Chris Egan (Solange; Blood Orange) on drums and Josh "JD" Werner (Ghostface Killah; CocoRosie) on bass.

Singles Golden Days (Sept 16) and Never Let Me Go (July 22), the album's title track, offer a taste of what to expect from the "King Of Tears’" (Radiotélévision Suisse) sophomore effort: a soundtrack for the first day after what looked like the last, fueled by the madness of a rapidly accelerating career trajectory, the thrill of touring with his band again, and the promise of a reopening world whose studios, stages and dance floors we get to share again at long last. In 2021, Sam released his debut album Power Ballads, a largely home-recorded yet “well-crafted set of atmospheric post-punk” (KEXP) to international acclaim.

"Released in April 1966 by Decca Records, Aftermath was the Rolling Stones’ fourth British studio album. It was issued by London Records in the US in June 1966. Recorded at the RCA Studios in California, it was their first album released in true stereo.
It is also one of the first ‘popular’ albums to eclipse the 50-minute mark, and contains one of the earliest rock songs to exceed 10 minutes (the blues jam Goin’ Home). The album’s release was briefly delayed by controversy over the original packaging idea and title – Could You Walk on the Water? – due to London Reocord’s fear of offending Christians in the US.

The album was considered an artistic breakthrough for the band, being the first to consist entirely of Jagger–Richards compositions, (after their maverick young manager, Andrew Loog Oldham, had shut them in the kitchen of their flat until they had written some more original songs!).
It also featured strongly the immaculate guitar work of Brian Jones and the remarkably wry, observant song-writing of Jagger–Richards
Jones played a variety of instruments not usually associated with their music, including sitar, dulcimer, marimbas and Japanese koto, as well as guitar, harmonica and keyboards, though much of the music is still rooted in Chicago electric blues. The burgeoning influences of psychedelia, Bob Dylan and the tensions around the world, are evident in classics like Paint It Black, an eerily insistent number one hit, available on the US version of the LP.

Other classics included the jazzy Under My Thumb, where Jones added exotic accents with vibes, and the delicate Elizabethan ballad Lady Jane, with distinctive dulcimer, the wry observational Mother’s Little Helper with its unashamed lyrical drug references, and the overlooked gem – the brooding, meditative I Am Waiting.

The American edition was issued with a shorter track listing, substituting the single Paint It Black in place of four of the British version’s songs, in keeping with the industry preference for shorter LPs in the US market at the time."

"Released in April 1966 by Decca Records, Aftermath was the Rolling Stones’ fourth British studio album. It was issued by London Records in the US in June 1966. Recorded at the RCA Studios in California, it was their first album released in true stereo.
It is also one of the first ‘popular’ albums to eclipse the 50-minute mark, and contains one of the earliest rock songs to exceed 10 minutes (the blues jam Goin’ Home). The album’s release was briefly delayed by controversy over the original packaging idea and title – Could You Walk on the Water? – due to London Reocord’s fear of offending Christians in the US.

The album was considered an artistic breakthrough for the band, being the first to consist entirely of Jagger–Richards compositions, (after their maverick young manager, Andrew Loog Oldham, had shut them in the kitchen of their flat until they had written some more original songs!).
It also featured strongly the immaculate guitar work of Brian Jones and the remarkably wry, observant song-writing of Jagger–Richards
Jones played a variety of instruments not usually associated with their music, including sitar, dulcimer, marimbas and Japanese koto, as well as guitar, harmonica and keyboards, though much of the music is still rooted in Chicago electric blues. The burgeoning influences of psychedelia, Bob Dylan and the tensions around the world, are evident in classics like Paint It Black, an eerily insistent number one hit, available on the US version of the LP.

Other classics included the jazzy Under My Thumb, where Jones added exotic accents with vibes, and the delicate Elizabethan ballad Lady Jane, with distinctive dulcimer, the wry observational Mother’s Little Helper with its unashamed lyrical drug references, and the overlooked gem – the brooding, meditative I Am Waiting.

The American edition was issued with a shorter track listing, substituting the single Paint It Black in place of four of the British version’s songs, in keeping with the industry preference for shorter LPs in the US market at the time."

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Ltd. Green & Blue Vinyl

Over the past 20 years, The New Pornographers have proven themselves one of the most excellent bands in indie rock. The group's ninth album and first for Merge establishes them alongside modern luminaries like Yo La Tengo and Superchunk when it comes to their ability to evolve while still retaining what made them so special in the first place. A dazzling and intriguing collection of songs, "Continue as a Guest" finds bandleader A.C. Newman and his compatriots Neko Case, Kathryn Calder, John Collins, Todd Fancey, and Joe Seiders exploring fresh territory and shattering the barriers of their collective comfort zone. Newman began work on "Continue as a Guest" after the band had finished touring behind 2019's "In the Morse Code of Brake Lights". Themes of isolation and collapse bleed into this album, as Newman tackles the ambivalence of day-to-day life during the COVID-19 pandemic. But Newman says that the album's title track also addresses the concerns that come with being in a band for so long. "The idea of continuing as a guest felt apropos to the times," he explains. "Feeling out of place in culture, in society, being in a band that has been around for so long_not feeling like a part of any zeitgeist, but happy to be separate and living your simple life, your long fade-out. Living in a secluded place in an isolated time, it felt like a positive form of acceptance: find your own little nowhere, find some space to fall apart, continue as a guest." Newman discovered new vocal approaches within his own talent. There are new and rich tones to Newman's voice throughout Continue as a Guest, from his dusky lower register over "Angelcover" to his slippery slide over the glimmering synths of "Firework in the Falling Snow," to bold tones he embraces on the soaring "Bottle Episodes." Another sonic change comes courtesy of saxophonist Zach Djanikian, whose tenor and bass luxuriate all over Continue as a Guest's alluring chassis, especially on the menacing build of "Pontius Pilate's Home Movies." Along with Newman's usual collaborators, several songwriters contribute. The bursting opener and first single "Really Really Light" is a co-write with Dan Bejar (Destroyer, the New Pornographers). Then there's "Firework in the Falling Snow," a collaboration with Sadie Dupuis of Speedy Ortiz and Sad13. Even as Newman embraces a collaborative spirit more than ever, his new album is a testament to his ability to discover new artistic sides of himself. "Continue as a Guest" sounds like a thrilling path forward for The New Pornographers, with songs that generate a contagious feeling of excitement for the future as well.

Pressing Info: 180g clear blue vinyl, printed inner-sleeve. Based between Brussels and Berlin, Golden Hours is comprised of past and present members of Gang Of Four, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Tricky, The Fuzztones and The Third Sound, to name just a few. A band with mileage and stories, they trade in rock'n'roll missives that are at times dark, tense and hypnotic, at others sweaty, relentless and danceable. Made up of Hákon Adalsteinsson (Guitar/Vocals), Rodrigo Fuentealba Palavacino (Guitar), Tobias Humble (Drums/Vocals) and Wim Janssens (Bass/Keys/Vocals), Golden Hours' self-titled debut album is due for release March 31st 2023 on Fuzz Club Records. Wim says of the project and its incoming debut: "The musical backgrounds of each member are pretty broad but somehow when we come together there's a pretty clear definition of what our music should sound like. There's a beautiful friction between the noise we produce and the love for melody that seems to overtake at just the right moment. There never seems to be a lack of ideas when we come together. In silent agreement, every idea gets tried and will be further developed into a song or skipped in a heartbeat. No time is wasted. It all happens pretty automatically."

Electronic duo Pale Blue return to Crosstown Rebels with ‘No Words’, the second single from their forthcoming album ‘Maria’, with remixes from DJ Tennis and Perel.

Italians Do It Better founder Mike Simonetti and Silver Hands’ Elizabeth Wight’s rich and storied careers within the electronic realm and beyond only elevated further with the launch of their Pale Blue project in 2015, unveiling a series of critically acclaimed releases via Simonetti’s 2MR imprint with plaudits including Pitchfork, FACT and Resident Advisor, to name just a few. Having provided the first look into their forthcoming album on Crosstown Rebels entitled ‘Maria’, scheduled for release on the label later this year, the pair return to open March with the second single from the project, ‘No Words’ - accompanied by remixes from DJ Tennis and Perel.

Detailing the backstory to the record, Simonetti notes both upcoming single ‘No Words’ and the majority of the tracks on the duo’s forthcoming album project were made on the exact synths used to create Jaydee’s iconic 1993 hit, ‘Plastic Dreams’.

Guided by a captivating bassline accented by Wight’s charming vocals, which flutter amongst the mix, ‘No Words’ is a hooky and compelling production that ebbs and flows across its near five-minute duration with effortless ease, capturing the playful nature alluded to by Simonetti. Life and Death head honcho DJ Tennis’ remix arrives next, veering down a hazy yet absorbing path as crisp organic drums and engrossing melodies form around the vocals and journey through light and dark textures.

The B-side of the record belongs to DJ/producer, vocalist and DFA Records favourite Perel, offering a cosmic dive through spacey synths, skittering bleeps and pops, and tough kicks across her take on the production - before distorting and warping the vocals and shifting the emphasis on the ever-evolving electronics across her ‘Dub Version’.

Following the tumultuous riots of the late 60's, youths in Washington, DC were looking for two things: positivity and an outlet to relieve tension. MUGO, aka "Music, Unity, Guidance, & Organization", offered just that. Formed by 8 high school friends during the summer of 71', this high-octane machine was driven by Manager and retired Marine Sgt. Reuben McNair Sr. His son, Reuben McNair Jr., was a leader within the group, and consequently wrote the B-side of their only public release. This cut, entitled "Space Travel", boasts a driving rhythm section as well as synthesizer overdubs likely to captivate even musically ambitious extraterrestrials. The flip, "Organize", became the group's unofficial theme song; submitting to the public a deft vocal response to rampant inner city blues.

Marroon coloured vinyl.

1st pressing on Maroon coloured vinyl. Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Tape

1st pressing on Maroon coloured vinyl. Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Record Kicks celebrates its 20th Anniversary with a limited edition "Rare Box Set" consisting of ten 45 vinyl with the very best of the label's catalogue.

2023 is a special year for Record Kicks: the Milan-based independent label turns 20 years old. In order to celebrate this great achievement, Record Kicks is proud to announce the release of a limited edition "Rare Box Set", coming out on March 3rd and containing 20 tracks on 10 "rare" 45 vinyl that retrace the story of these past 20 years of Record Kicks. The boxset is limited to 500 copies worldwide and it will also be released on digital format on that same day, March 3rd. The artwork by Japanese artist Ruminz is an homage to Afro-American culture. Of the 20 tracks on the "Rare Boxset", 11 tracks are previously unreleased on 45 vinyl, while 9 are reissues of mega in-demand gems.

Among the tracks released for the first time on 45, you'll find label's Funk & Soul heavyweights such as "Easy To Come Home" by Sydney funk maestros Dojo Cuts, "Your Love is Mine" by British funk band The New Mastersounds feat Corinne Bailey Rae and remixed by Nostalgia 77, "50 Foot Woman" by Hannah Williams & The Affirmations, "Soul Connection" by The Diplomats of Solid Sound and "Soul of My Life" by The Tibbs. For the first time on 45 vinyl, there are also two singles from the masters of Cinematic funk Calibro 35: "Stainless Steel" from their legendary album "Traitors" and "Ungwana Bay Launch Complex" from "S.P.A.C.E.", The Diasonics with "Andromeda", taken from their debut album "Origin Of Forms", and Whatitdo Archive Group's "Blood Chief" from the band's album "The Black Stone Affair".

On the reissue's front, among the rare tracks that by popular demand finally see the light again on 45 vinyl we find: the afrofunk cover of The Artic Monkeys' "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" by Baby Charles, JB's classic "Soul Power" by Kokolo remixed by Lack Of Afro, The Bluebeaters with "Catch That Teardrop" and "Toxic (One Drop Version)" singles, northern soul floorshaker "I'm a Good Woman" by Hannah Williams & The Tastemakers and deep funk stormer "I'm Not Your Regular Woman" by Marta Ren & The Groovelvets.

The "Rare Box Set" is just the first of many upcoming initiatives that will be revealed during the year to celebrate the Milan's label 20th anniversary. Side by side with similar imprints like Daptone, Big Crown, Colemine or Timmion Records, under its motto "The explosive sound from Today's scene", Milan-based record label and music publishing Record Kicks has been pitching the contemporary funk & soul scene since 2003. With over 250 releases under the belt, the label has released bands from all over the globe and earned support of VIP fans such as rap superstars Jay-Z, Tyler The Creator and Dr. Dre, who took inspiration from the label's catalogue by sampling it.








g g1: The New Mastersounds - Your Love Is Mine (Nostalgia 77 Remix) feat. Corinne Bailey Rae

BLUE NOTE TONE POET EDITION: produziert von Joe Harley, komplett analog von Kevin Gray von den Originalbändern gemastert, RTI-Pressung (180g), stabiles Tip-on-Gatefold, wattierte Innenhülle.
Der Pianist und Komponist Andrew Hill gehörte in den 1960er Jahren zu den visionärsten Musikern im Blue-Note-Stall. Tatsächlich waren einige der 12 Alben, die er zwischen ’63 und ’70 für das Label einspielte, ihrer Zeit so weit voraus, dass sie erst Jahrzehnte später veröffentlicht wurden.

So wie das brillante Album “Dance With Death”, das 1968 entstanden war, aber erst 1980 das Licht der Welt erblickte. Zu hören ist Hill hier mit sechs höchst orginellen Eigenkompositionen zwischen Post-Bop, modalem Jazz und Avantgarde.
Exzellente Unterstützung erhielt er bei der Einspielung von gleichgesinnten Modernisten wie Trompeter Charles Tolliver, Saxophonist Joe Farrell, Bassist Victor Sproles und Drummer Bill Higgins.

24 Jahre jung war der Trompeter Carmell Jones, als er 1960 von seiner Geburtsstadt Kansas City nach Los Angeles ging. Schon kurz nach seiner Ankunft erhielt der vielversprechende Youngster, den manche
mit Clifford Brown verglichen, dort einen Plattenvertrag bei Pacific Jazz.

1961 konnte er für das Label sein phänomenales Debüt “The Remarkable Carmell Jones” aufnehmen. Im Zusammenspiel mit Tenorsaxophonist Harold Land, Pianist Frank Strazzeri, Bassist Gary Peacock und Schlagzeuger Leon Pettis präsentierte er auf dem Album eine hochinteressante Mischung aus Cool Jazz und Hardbop.

BLUE NOTE TONE POET EDITION: produziert von Joe Harley, komplett analog von Kevin Gray von den Originalbändern gemastert, RTI-Pressung (180g), stabiles Tip-on-Gatefold, wattierte Innenhülle.


Der Pianist und Komponist Andrew Hill gehörte in den 1960er Jahren zu den visionärsten Musikern im Blue-Note-Stall. Tatsächlich waren einige der 12 Alben, die er zwischen ’63 und ’70 für das Label einspielte, ihrer Zeit so weit voraus, dass sie erst Jahrzehnte später veröffentlicht wurden.

So wie das brillante Album “Dance With Death”, das 1968 entstanden war, aber erst 1980 das Licht der Welt erblickte. Zu hören ist Hill hier mit sechs höchst orginellen Eigenkompositionen zwischen Post-Bop, modalem Jazz und Avantgarde.
Exzellente Unterstützung erhielt er bei der Einspielung von gleichgesinnten Modernisten wie Trompeter Charles Tolliver, Saxophonist Joe Farrell, Bassist Victor Sproles und Drummer Bill Higgins.

24 Jahre jung war der Trompeter Carmell Jones, als er 1960 von seiner Geburtsstadt Kansas City nach Los Angeles ging. Schon kurz nach seiner Ankunft erhielt der vielversprechende Youngster, den manche
mit Clifford Brown verglichen, dort einen Plattenvertrag bei Pacific Jazz.

1961 konnte er für das Label sein phänomenales Debüt “The Remarkable Carmell Jones” aufnehmen. Im Zusammenspiel mit Tenorsaxophonist Harold Land, Pianist Frank Strazzeri, Bassist Gary Peacock und Schlagzeuger Leon Pettis präsentierte er auf dem Album eine hochinteressante Mischung aus Cool Jazz und Hardbop.

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Scottish composer and multi-instrumentalist Bill Wells and virtuoso tuba player Danielle Price once more team up for Karaoke Kalk under the name The Sensory Illusions. The two further explore the affinities between their idiosyncratic musical approaches across a variety of styles and genres while also expanding their sound palette. After its predecessor saw Wells working strictly with his electric guitar, on the »Sensory Illusions II« the piano enters the mix on two of the eleven pieces. Much like his brass-heavy collaboration album »Osaka Bridge« with Japanese collective Maher Shalal Hash Baz—made available again on vinyl by the German label Karaoke Kalk in February 2023—this album injects melancholic atmospheres with a sense of playfulness. Picking up on elements from jazz, pop, blues, and classic songwriting while acknowledging their debt to techniques from the worlds of avant-garde and improv music, The Sensory Illusions weave together disparate elements into a colourful, imaginative suite of songs.

Starting with the folky chords of opener »Four Chord Dream,« the track titles spell out Wells’ characteristic use of ideas that literally come to him in his sleep (the project was even named after a record he found while browsing a store in a dream). The National Jazz Trio Of Scotland leader then fleshes them out together with Price, who again serves as a one-woman rhythm section, as she does throughout most of the album. When Wells enters 1960s spy movie territory with a swirling rendition of John Barry’s »Theme from Vendetta« and picks up on those dynamics with a rolling riff in the next song, her versatile playing provides the backdrop for that. Once Wells sits down at the piano for the tender »Flotsam Bodes,« however, their roles are being reversed and Price—a seasoned and multifaceted musician who was one of only six applicants chosen to attend Chilly Gonzales' Gonzervatory in 2019 and who is currently working with acclaimed London-based trumpet player and composer Laura Jurd—takes the lead. »I’m the Urban Spaceman« makes it even more apparent how seamlessly these two experienced players leave each other space to showcase their respective talent and expand on their individual ideas: Marked by Wells’ soloing and exploring different sonic possibilities of the guitar, it also sees Price showcasing her reduced yet agile solos before they both return to the idea at the heart of the song.

It is precisely those ideas that guide the duo’s way through the individual pieces, but their sometimes widely different approaches yield very distinct results. While working with the piano once more on »Mr. Sophie« results in a fuller and more anthemic sound, they opt for a more restrained, melancholic one the album closer »Desk Aunt«. It is precisely these kinds of variations in mood and tone that underscore how these two musicians are perfectly attuned to each other. As the second duo record in their six years of working together, »The Sensory Illusions II« proves once more how much musical ground they are able to cover with their instruments and open minds alone.

Rare Groove Collection Explore the fusion of world music with soul, funk and disco through the Rare Groove Collection. With this new volume, discover unique groove tracks straight from Jamaica! Fully remastered original versions Brazilian RARE GROOVE Discover the wonders of Brazilian music from 60s, 70s & 80s. A wave of modernity invades the country and Soul, Funk & Disco influences merge with traditional genres such as Bossa Nova, Samba or Batucada. This union led to a colorful and cheerful groove symbolizing the transformation of Brazil.

On her third album, Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer Aimée Portioli, aka Grand River, asks what guiding forces might be driving, enticing, and affecting us. “All Above” is rooted in her deeply personal philosophy as an artist, blurring the boundaries between electronic music and acoustic music and sculpting familiar ambient forms into personal themes painted with rich emotional colours. Written painstakingly over the last two years, the album is the most ambitious and divergent set of music Portioli has assembled so far, with a wide variety of instrumentation (including voices, strings, organs, guitars, and synthesisers) focused around the piano. She‘s keen to assure listeners that while that instrument isn‘t always heard, it‘s constantly at the forefront of the album, shepherding its emotions and anchoring its mood. It makes sense then that on the opening track ‘Quasicristallo’, the acoustic piano is the first element we hear, recorded closely, so its characteristic rattle and creak can speak as loudly as the familiar tones themselves. When the music blooms into abstraction and processed electronics, it‘s almost imperceptible: reverb mutates into ghostly vapour trails, and distortion forms the keys into another instrument entirely.

“All Above“ follows 2020‘s acclaimed “Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes“ and 2018‘s “Pineapple” released on Donato Dozzy and Neel‘s Spazio Disponibile imprint. Having garnered praise from outlets like Resident Advisor, XLR8R, The Quietus, Inverted Audio, and The Verge, Portioli operates in a unique space within the electronic music scene, straddling the art world and the wider electronic music scene. She‘s developed sound art installations for Rome‘s La Galleria Nazionale and the Terraforma Festival-related Il Pianeta, and has appeared at Barbican, MUTEK, Le Guess Who?, Kraftwerk, and other internationally renowned venues and festivals, often collaborating with Marco Ciceri on A/V presentations. Ciceri also maintains the visual identity of Portioli‘s label One Instrument, a concept imprint that asks artists to create music only using a single device. All this experience is poured into “All Above”, a richly visual album that‘s far more than just an imaginary film score. While on ‘Human’, her piano punctuates a rhythmic synthesised bassline and smudged choirs that can‘t help but trace out the silver screen. The composer is keen to clarify that she doesn‘t think of her music (or sound in general) in visual terms.

Portioli studied as a linguist and used her art to develop an emotional language that‘s not bound by expected cultural constraints. When she adds a different instrument or process, it‘s not to reference a visual cue but to mark a journey through different states of being. Each element embodies a different emotion or mood: the electric guitar represents strength or violence, synthesisers shuttle us into the dream world, and the acoustic instruments highlight intimacy and warmth – even heart. Read like this, the tracks are like meditative poems rather than cinematic vignettes: ‘The World At Number XX’ is seemingly centred around a chugging synthesised arpeggio, but the cosmic, Klaus Schulze-esque pads, strangled guitar and evocative organ tones hint at the open-hearted, literate psychedelia of the 1970s; ‘In The Present As The Future’ meanwhile is breathy and windswept, juxtaposing urgent rhythmic phrases with light, flute-like gusts of harmony.

Dedicated to Editions Mego founder Peter Rehberg, who died suddenly last year, “All Above” demands engagement and refuses to evaporate into the background. The album asks listeners not just to absorb the album as a whole but notice the cracks in the structure and discern the tension they cause. That‘s never more evident than on the closing track ‘Cost What It May’, a piece of music almost jarring when Portioli chops into noisy waves of electric guitar. In the wrong hands, this might sound like a power move – some rock posturing to act as a finale. But Portioli‘s expression is different. She‘s forcing a level of engagement that perceives the negative space as just as necessary as the saturated positive, and what could be more haunting and emotionally resonant than that?

Composed, produced and mixed by Aimée Portioli.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu.
Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin.
Photography by Federico Boccardi.
Design and layout by Riccardo Piovesan.