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For All The World, the black watch's twenty-fifth (and first double) album is a darkly poppy, brightly moody, many-splendored take on a number of the great themes: Death and Sex, Memory and Lament and Hope and Love. And it is, arguably, this heralded Los Angeles band's most sonically ambitious and moving record yet, since front man/novelist/ex-English professor John Andrew Fredrick formed the group in 1988 in Santa Barbara after he'd seen a London-by-way-of-Canada band called The Lucy Show play to twelve-or-so people in his hometown.

Having recorded 2024's Weird Rooms with producer Misha Bullock and Fredrick's son Chandler at Bullock's studio in Austin, TX, the TBW founder was keen to repeat the experience with, he says, more straightforward, classic psych/jangle/shoegaze songs. The result, though artistically satisfying, spurred a yen in John to write more songs as a sort of reaction against the batch he'd carried with him from LA to Texas. "We had such a productive time recording ‘Weird Rooms’ that I wanted to repeat the experience... without repeating the experience. And once it was over and I left Misha to do what he pleased with respect to mixing and overdubbing, all I could think was 'I need to write another album now.'" So Fredrick brought longstanding producer/engineer and TBW-associate Scott Campbell (Stevie Nicks, Acetone) along this time to help out with engineering and good cheer.

Fredrick, who has been "accused" of being "astonishingly prolific," learned that bandmate Andy Creighton had recently become unemployed, seized the opportunity to have yet another multi-instrumentalist flesh out the new songs he quickly wrote after he came back from Austin. “Achilles Past,” the first single, is in fact a song that John wrote when the production team thought the album was done—and the front man avers that it’s often the case that a very strong song comes to him, as it were, in the eleventh hour. The same could be said for “Listen You Wait”—another number that came late to the Austin sessions.

Nevertheless, the recording of the first half of For All The World has Creighton's signature indelibly stamped on it - especially on such tracks as “Fainting” and “Surely You Rally”- just as the latter half highlights Bullock's formidable talents. "They're both not just brilliant musicians and they understand my aesthetic and bring their own sensibilities to bear on my stuff. Our respective tastes meet in, you guessed it, The Beatles' realm - the great shadow that hangs over all I do, at least."

"There's A Place," the final song on side two, serves in fact as a distinct homage that's been a long time coming for a band that included a cover of "It's All Too Much" as a bonus track and that release a quite punkish, uptempo version of "Eleanor Rigby" on a 7".

José James just can’t leave the ’70s alone. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The singer, songwriter, bandleader, and producer was born in 1978, after all, but over his past 17 years of fundamentally forward-looking, blessedly mercurial music, he keeps getting pulled back in. His 2013 Blue Note breakthrough No Beginning No End revisited the hooky, funky, jazz-streaked songcraft of the time through a modern crate-digger’s ears. On 2020’s No Beginning No End 2 — James’ debut on his own Rainbow Blonde Records — he went back through the portal with a small army of fellow celebrated eclecticists. Just last year, there was the album 1978, a richly layered love letter to said year that felt deep, luxe, and cool. It’s as if — vested with the restless fluidity of jazz, the tuned-in sensitivity of soul, and the revisionist grit of hip-hop — he is trying to play his way into the exact moment when, culturally speaking, everything was about to change.

“I'm still so fascinated by the tension in that era of all these seemingly clashing things happening at once,” says James. “The loft scene, the jazz scene, Elton and Billy, Bob Marley, the Isleys, Funkadelic, disco being this behemoth in a way I don't think we even understand today… And then there’s where everybody went from there — into hip-hop, into punk rock, exploding jazz. It's like a summation of the ’70s, and it's about to transform. It's the peak of the rollercoaster.”

Literally breaking into history is impossible, of course, but James’ new LP, 1978: Revenge of the Dragon, does feel like breaking through or bursting out. In loving contrast to its predecessor, the fresh set plays hot, like a Friday night out at the Mudd Club in its prime. Though he’s dreamt up albums with collaborator counts approaching the dozens, James gathered a tight crew for this one. Himself and Taali on vocals. BIGYUKI on keys and analog synth. Jharis Yokley on drums. Bass split between David Ginyard (Blood Orange, Terence Blanchard) and Kyle Miles (Michelle Ndgeocello, Nick Hakim). And an all-star brass lineup: Takuya Kuroda on trumpet, young lion Ebban Dorsey on alto sax, and genre-spanning ronin Ben Wendel on tenor sax. They set up in Dreamland Studios near Woodstock, a restored 19th century church, and recorded live to tape, two tracks, drums pushed to the max — “a small homage to the rise of punk,” says James.

In that place out of time, the band laid down a handful of choice covers and some wild originals, like the single “They Sleep, We Grind (for Badu),” a decades-collapsing cut powered by an ugly groove. Steeped in dub, funk, and sampledelia, James chants an artists’ mantra (“They sleep, we grind / Man, f--- your nine to five”), makes lyrical callouts to Marley and Nas, and channels everything from George Clinton to J Dilla, not to mention the earthy mysticism of Erykah Badu. In 2023, James released and toured his Badu covers LP, On & On. “Living in her musical house for a year was transformative,” he says. “This is my summary of everything I learned through her, tying it to this idea that artists move differently. We are in society but we are outside, too, looking out and in at the same time. Our hours are different, our schedules are different.”

To that point, James and co. actually began each day in the woods, filming the album’s visual companion piece, Revenge of the Dragon, an honest-to-God kung-fu short complete with bad overdubs, training montages, camera tricks, and plot twists. The film pays tribute not only to the genre’s greatest year (1978, of course), but also its cinematic exchange with Blaxploitation, plus James’ own recent Shaolin training and admiration for Bruce Lee as a culture-bridging force (the LP’s cover recreates an iconic shot of Lee). On top of that, says James, “We had this immediacy in the studio. Live, one take, no overdubbing. I feel like that's where the martial arts piece comes in, where it's about being relaxed but also aware, and there's immediacy in your movements.”

Across the project, tribute takes that refracted, multifaceted form. From his personal late-’70s playlist, James chose four covers reflecting the era’s disco-fied churn: the MJ-meets-Quincy dancefloor masterpiece “Rock With You”; Herbie Hancock’s prescient vocoder fever dream, “I Thought It Was You”; and a pair of Black-radio hits from two bands whose fans typically wouldn’t have been caught dead in the same stadium: “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones and the Bee Gees’ “Inside and Out.” All of it gets filtered through a contemporary Black (and beyond) lens, coming out loud, free, funky, and buzzing — dynamic, yes, but also of a joyous piece.

1978: Revenge of the Dragon transports you to a crowded room where all this is playing out in real time. That feeling is helped out by opener “Tokyo Daydream,” a bass-driven swan dive into a neverending night of boutique bar-hopping and neon revelry. Later, “Rise of the Tiger” finds James bringing rare braggadocio to a propulsive track with growling synth lines and a hunger for whatever comes next. And then there’s the closer, “Last Call at the Mudd Club,” which with its upbeat energy and string of Stevie-inspired pickup lines, evokes the sort of unabashedly elated track the DJ throws on at 3:56 a.m. before everyone is kicked out. “I wanted to leave the album on that note,” says James. “If this was a night out in New York, this would be the last thing you hear before you get in that taxi and go back to your apartment.” Or, perhaps, back to 2025.

Limited edition deluxe box featuring the Blu-ray film, 2CD set, 180g 3LP on special crystal-clear vinyl, hardback book and x5 12” art prints. Recorded live on 9th November 2018 (their only UK show of 2018), ‘education entertainment recreation’ is the live album from London’s Alexandra Palace.

This strictly limited and exclusive deluxe box features:

● Blu-ray Film

● 2CDs of the audio

● 180g 3LP Vinyl *

● 48pg Hardback book *

● Five 12” art prints *

* Exclusive to the box

Sonically and visually spectacular, spanning 2 hours 20 minutes, the show joyously mixed New Order classics, their latest acclaimed album ‘Music Complete’ and Joy Division’s finest.

Opening with ‘Singularity’ from ‘Music Complete’, they eased back in time to 1993’s ‘Regret’, to ‘Love Vigilantes’ from 1985’s ‘Low-Life’ to ‘Ultraviolence from 1983's ‘Power, Corruption and Lies’. Later, their power over the dance floor was proven by sublime performances in the manner of the celebrated extended 12-inch remixes they are synonymous with - on ‘True Faith’, ‘Blue Monday’ and ‘Temptation’ before a three song Joy Division mini set to end.

Double 12" vinyl pressing of Astral Projections - a 12-track journey through the realms of electro, featuring some of the genre's most revered producers, curated by Alien Communications.

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.

Three LPs packed in a trifold jacket. Pressed on Deep Ocean Pearl, Gold & Dark Green Vinyl. Take up your sword, channel your magic or board your Mech. Chained Echoes is a 16-bit style RPG set in a fantasy world where dragons are as common as piloted mechanical suits. The game is set on the continent of Valandis during the time of a multi-generational war between three kingdoms, Taryn, Gravos and Escanya. After a great catastrophe caused by Grand Grimoire shakes the continent, the kingdoms agree to sign a peace treaty. One year later, an unknown force strives to begin a new war. A group of unlikely heroes joins forces and eventually becomes the clan of Crimson Wings in order to stop it. The outstanding soundtrack for Chained Echoes was passionately composed, arranged and recorded over four years by Eddie Marianukroh as well as many other musicians who worked under his direction. It includes 50 tracks at two hours in length. Even the game has been out for a while, Marianukroh's admiration and enthusiasm for the game and his addition to it remain undiminished: "It has been over two years now since the release of Chained Echoes, which is rather difficult for me to believe. Time really flies, and it's honestly a bit frightening when I think about it. But, despite that, when I listen to the music I've written for this game, I still very much remain proud of what I composed. I really did give my all for this soundtrack. I will forever be grateful to Matthias for trusting me with the music for his game. I can vividly remember how I felt when I first came across his project, and how I nervously reached out to him about the composer position. I truly, truly cannot thank him enough for giving me this memorable experience that I will always hold dear. Thank you, my friend."

The iconic Hôtel Costes music collection, a veritable benchmark of Parisian luxury and refinement, continues to captivate lovers of sophisticated sounds. Famous for its unique blends of warm vocals, funk, jazzy and pop grooves, fusing electronic sounds and acoustic instruments, this series is a must for connoisseurs of refined music.



This ninth volume, orchestrated by the talented Stéphane Pompougnac, offers light electro soul and racy house, perfect for livening up the most elegant evenings and keeping the most reluctant dancing until the wee hours. The Hôtel Costes series has revealed exceptional talents such as Pink Martini, Flight Facilities, General Elektriks, Angus & Julia Stone and Brigitte, while mixing hidden nuggets with masters such as Gotan Project, Femi Kuti, Trentemøller, Thievery Corporation, Shirley Bassey and Grace Jones.



With over 5 million copies sold worldwide, following the resounding success of the reissue of the first six volumes, this ninth opus is finally available for the first time on vinyl. A true gem that will delight long-time fans and appeal to a new generation of listeners worldwide.

4XLP. Hardcover slipcase box. Liner notes from Soichi Terada, Colour: translucent red, clear, blue, and yellow vinyl

It has been 25 years since the release of Saru Get You (サルゲッチュ), known stateside and in the UK as Ape Escape. Ape Escape marked a significant milestone for the PlayStation, as it was the first game to require use of the PlayStation's DualShock (analog) controller. In Ape Escape, the use of the analogue sticks goes beyond camera rotation and acts as an extension of Kakeru's (Spike's) own character, controlling his many gadgets like the stun club, time net, and sky flyer. It's a unique form of control that, really, didn't become popularized until the release of the Nintendo Wii. It feels like a distinctly Japanese design, the sort of off-the-wall design that is either embraced or rejected on a global scale. In Ape Escape's case, the mechanic caught on.

Ape Escape is fast, frantic, and—at times—downright frustrating. Pipo monkeys dash, taunt, and swim away from your advances. They ride water monsters, fly UFOs, and even shoot uzis! Whether it's Kakeru, his friends, or the monkeys themselves, the characters are always running across the levels. This mad dash is enhanced by the game's soundtrack, composed by legendary composer Soichi Terada. As he recalls, the director of the production said, "Spike and his friends always have the image of running." In response, Terada happily produced fast songs with an average speed of over 170bpm. The resulting gameplay and audio is a match made in heaven.

Ape Escape is the first game soundtrack Mr. Terada ever created. The producers of the game heard one of his singles, "Sumo Jungle," and thought his frenetic drum-and-bass (Jungle) would be perfect for the game. The marriage of Ape Escape's charming overworld and Soichi's upbeat compositions is nothing short
of sublime. Especially now, it is difficult to separate the mischievous Pipos and fast-paced action from Soichi Terada's silky smooth synthesizer and heart-pounding bass. Earlier this year (2024), Soichi Terada's Ape Escape work was celebrated by the six-track EP Apes in the Net, which includes music from Ape Escape 1 and 3 (Terada did not compose the series' second installment). The label, Rush Hour Music, has prestigiously championed almost all of Soichi Terada's music, especially his (specifically non-VGM) house, jungle, and drum and bass releases (Sounds from the Far East, Asakusa Light, and more).
Before Apes in the Net, Terada's Ape Escape music was only available on CD, released in Japan around 2010. This release featured reconstructed tracks created by Mr. Terada himself, identical to the music arrangements featured in the game. The biggest difference, of course, was that they were of higher fidelity than was originally available on the PS1 disk format. Completing all of the aforementioned releases is this box set, released by Far East Recording in partnership with Cartridge Thunder and officially licensed by Sony Computer Entertainment. This box set release includes four LPs, housed individually by a hardcover slipcase. This box set includes every song from Ape Escape 1, except those available on Apes in the Net. This box set release also includes one bonus song, previously unreleased anywhere else (including the game itself!).

The music on this box set was meticulously mastered by Justin Perkins of Mystery Room Mastering. Using Mr. Terada's premastered source files, the music was completely and specifically mastered for vinyl. Rounding out the audio is absolutely stunning artwork created by Gobo3D. CT worked with Gobo to recreate some of Ape Escape's most iconic characters, referencing the original Japanese guidebook and other promotional materials. The result is visually delicious 300dpi artwork that takes you straight back to 1999. As uber-fans of the original PlayStation game, Cartridge Thunder and Far East Recording are proud to celebrate Soichi Terada's music and pay our respects to such a legendary PlayStation franchise—on the original hardware's 30th anniversary no less! It's with a happy heart, then, that Far East Recording and CT present to you Soichi Terada's Ape Escape Originape Soundtracks in a Box.

Please note: due to licensing exclusivity, this release does not include tracks previously released on Apes in the Net

Neon Orange & Black Vinyl. With Information (2019), Cleveland-raised, New York-based producer and DJ Galcher Lustwerk marked his debut LP on Ghostly International, having already carved out a lane of low-key hip-house music with his instant classic 100% GALCHER mixtape: deep, smooth, psychedelic, equally cut for the club, after-hours, night drives, and headphones. Lustwerk leveled up for Information, experimenting with more live drums and jazz saxophone to create a new dynamic, what he considered a hookier, more bittersweet, Midwest mindset. Lustwerk emerged in 2013 with the game-changing 100% GALCHER for the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop, later named a mix of the decade by Resident Advisor. The signature sound - a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues - felt like an epiphany distinctly linked to the expanse of Midwest driving and the strobe-lit detachment of club culture. Now over a decade into his musical vision, Lustwerk remains an elusive nightlife narrator, embodied by the hooks and a growing catalog that's proven influential and singular.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Known as one of the leading voices in the European roots scene, Ina's explosive live
performances and powerful, honey- dripping vocals have captivated audiences for
over a decade. With this new release, she takes listeners on an emotional and groovy
journey of rediscovery and resilience.
Recorded in Helsinki with a team of Finnish musicians and produced by Michael Bleu
and Ina, After Dark Hour is steeped in Retro Soul, Funk, Motown-inspired grooves, and
R&B. The energy of live performance was a driving force behind the album's creation.
"I wanted to make songs that would be fun to play live, songs that would make people
leave my shows sweaty and smiling,"
The title track, After Dark Hour, was the spark that reignited her creativity after over a
year of writer's block. "I was going through it--what I call the postpandemic blues. I
couldn't get myself to write songs or even listen to music. Then one day, I wrote the
title song, and it was like magic. It was such a relief to know I still had it in me after a
year of not having it. After dark hour represents the first moment you see the light
coming through the blinds you've been keeping shut. It's the feeling
that things are finally getting better."
The album takes listeners through an eclectic mix of soul sounds, from sultry power
ballads to James Brown- style funk explosions, tender sweet soul, and uptempo
Motown grooves. The lush production includes cinematic strings, bold horns, and
gospel-like backing vocals, all serving as a backdrop to Ina's signature vocals.
Ina has been performing since she was 17, dedicating her career to crafting music
that blends classic soul with her unique voice and vision. With After Dark Hour, she
delivers an album that invites listeners to dance through life's darkest moments.

Portland-based ambient architect and far afield sound technician Graintable, aka James Cooke returns with his debut outing on Music To Watch Seeds Grow By and his fourth in the R$N stable; 'Blue Flax'. Following his acclaimed and sold out cassette releases 'Herons', 'Universal Ash' and ‘The Rain In The Trees’ on Ransom Note Records, this new collection sees Cooke delving deeper into the intersection of natural processes and liminal organic electronics.

'Blue Flax', the resilient flowering plant celebrated for its delicate blue blooms and medicinal applications, is native to the Pacific Northwest - the region Cooke calls home. This plant has long grown on the ancestral lands of the Wasco, Klickitat, Warm Springs, Cayuse, and Umatilla tribes. Its connection to this landscape underscores the album’s themes, weaving together ten intricate ambient pieces that reflect the plant's dual nature of part healer, part object of wonder. Recorded during the transitional hours of dawn and dusk in his Portland studio, Cooke’s soundscapes capture both the meditative aspects of watching plants grow and the gradual transformation of organic matter into usable forms. The centrepiece of the album Cerulian FIelds, reminds of the early morning light, those inspiring hours before the rest of the world wakes and the first shoots break through the soil into the new dawn. It’s a beautiful crystallisation of what is Cooke’s most comprehensive collection of meditative compositions to date.

For fans of: Steve Roach, Alessandro Cortini, Suzanne Ciani, Davis Galvin

Early support including: Courtesy, Laurent Garnier, Massimiliano Pagliara, DJ Harvey, Domenic Capello

Dear Life Records is proud to present the physical reissue of the self titled debut of MJ Lenderman. MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; a voice reminiscent of the high-lonesome warble of a choirboy; the keen observations and reflections of a front stoop philosopher. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made with longtime friends at Asheville's Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting doesn't seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true. "MJ Lenderman" was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital in 2019 by Colin Miller in Asheville NC, and was self-released online to quiet but firm acclaim. Now available as a Double LP and remastered for vinyl by Heather Jones, it offers a glimpse into the formative steps of a style; focused and precise, yet expansive and rough around the edges, that remains consistent across MJ's catalogue to date (see also 2021's `Ghost of Your Guitar Solo' (DLR 016) and 2022's `Boat Songs' (DLR 031)). Looking as firmly to the legacy of 90s slowcore as it does to the tenor of Magnolia Electric Co. and sound wall of Neil Young and Crazy Horse, these 9 songs clock in at just over an hour and offer warm, patient worlds of heavy color that blow by breezily. These are songs that wrap mysterious and urgent feeling in layers of patience and clarity that unfold anew with each timeless listen.

Transparent Blue Vinyl.Limited to 300 copies. Bob Balch here. When Gary Arce mentioned that Yawning Man was gonna record and we should do another round of Yawning Balch jams I was super stoked. I'll always jam with those guys. Once the invite was extended I knew I had to drop some money on new pedals. Haha. Not that I don't have enough already but jamming with Yawning Man means you have to build a massive pedal board and try to get the most "out there" sounds you can. At least that's what it means to me. Another aspect is once we start jamming I like to improvise riffs but keep them in mind so I can return to them throughout the jam. It was an honor to share a few hours playing with those dudes and I'm always surprised how much material we get out of it. Volumes 3 and 4 were recorded in one five hour session April 20th, 2024 in Joshua Tree, CA.

Alternative Tentacles Records is thrilled to announce the first-ever vinyl release of two long-awaited tracks, previously available only in digital format. This highly anticipated split 7" features Jello Biafra & The Guantanamo School of Medicine and The November 3, with two explosive songs: "Blunder Blubber" and "IFAR." "Blunder Blubber," originally released as a digital single to mark Rush Limbaugh's passing and was recorded during the TEA PARTY REVENGE PORN recording sessions, highlights everything iconic about Jello Biafra & The Guantanamo School of Medicine. The song critiques the rise of right-wing extremism, tracing its roots back to Rush Limbaugh's influence and the repeal of the Fairness Doctrine under President Reagan in 1987—a policy change that allowed one-sided political commentary on public airwaves. Biafra argues that this set the stage for the toxic media landscape, fueling figures like Limbaugh and the current wave of ""MAGA"" rhetoric. Reflecting on the political climate, Biafra notes, "I wrote the song back when Clinton was president, seeing the writing on the wall. I was hoping never to use it, but we had no choice but to update and perform it now." On the flip side, The November 3 delivers "IFAR," a fiery debut track that first dropped during the 2020 Republican National Convention. Blending punk rock energy with raw political outrage, lead vocalist Billie O' Rights unleashes a bold, biting rant, backed by Tom Pain’s searing guitars. Pat Triotte and Justice Ferrall add their creative touches to this electrifying anthem, capturing the chaotic spirit of the times. "IFAR," is a raucous, tongue-in-cheek commentary on partisan divides, clocking in at just two minutes of catchy, irreverent fun. Interestingly, the song was reportedly conceived during a mundane moment: Pat Triotte was baking blueberry muffins one Saturday afternoon when the idea hit, and within hours, the track was recorded— and the muffins were supposedly amazing. Despite the humorous and often provocative tone of both songs, the core message of this release is clear: a call to action to vote. With this limited 7" vinyl, Alternative Tentacles Records urges everyone to make their voices heard in the 2024 election and beyond! Don't forget to VOTE!

In 1964, Big City Blues dropped, and John Hammond delivered the goods. With his raspy voice and guitar, he gave a fresh spin to classics by legends like Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon. No big band needed—just him and his raw feeling to capture the soul of Delta blues. But he added an urban edge that fit perfectly with the times. Simple, powerful, and incredibly authentic. This record is pure blues that hits hard and sticks with you.

2023 was a whirlwind year for Oracle Sisters. The trio—Julia Johansen, Chris Willatt, and Lewis Lazar—followed the release of their debut album Hydranism with a globe-spanning tour that captivated fans and critics alike. From the highways between Knoxville and Nashville to sold-out clubs in rain-soaked Seattle, and festival stages across the UK, they logged countless hours on the road. Their journey was a tapestry of exhaustion and exhilaration, falling apart, brawls and disputes, love and acceptance. By the year’s end, just two days before Christmas, they found themselves in Tokyo, reflecting on the fleeting nature of time and the fragments of inspiration gathered along the way. It was there the seeds for their next album, Divinations, began to sprout. Composing as a true trio for the first time, Oracle Sisters pieced together sketches formed during stolen moments on tour. These fragments coalesced into Divinations, an album shaped by the band’s nomadic existence. The recording sessions spanned cozy Parisian studios, a barn in northern France, and the storied Valentine Studios in Los Angeles. Their creative process embraced experimentation—swapping primary instruments, playing with toy drum machines, and crafting melodies on quirky tools like the OP-1 and a baby Casio keyboard. This spirit of discovery lent the album a sense of spontaneity and wonder. At its core, Divinations channels mysticism and timeless storytelling. The band’s songwriting draws on diverse influences, from the surrealist poetry of Baudelaire and Rimbaud to the introspective philosophies of Carl Jung. Musically, echoes of Talking Heads, Air, and Leonard Cohen resonate throughout the album and tracks like “Riverside” delve into existential questions— “How far are you going? Is it more than money can buy?” Elsewhere on the album “Marseille,” born in the city that gave the song its name, kicks off as a trance with lyrics that play between the sincere and desperate self-help affirmations, we give ourselves while trying to find a bridge between our individual lives and a universal feeling. Lead-single “Alouette” is Oracle Sisters at their most direct; propelled by a driving bassline and exuberant strings, the track summons the sound of 80’s, 90’s, and early 2000’s rock n roll as they sing about “getting out of dodge, finding a pirate ship and sailing home.” Inspired by the book Caliban and the Witch, “Blue Left Hand” is a lyrical tapestry weaving together history, philosophy, and cultural critique. The lyrics, “It’s in the harbor of every page / It’s in the corner of the playwright’s stage / And every player and every fake / And every witch that we burned at the stake,” reflect on the forces that shaped the capitalist society we know today. Across Divinations’ 11 tracks it’s not only geographic boundaries that were crossed but also the boundaries of time and circumstance. While their work may not consciously reflect specific worldly events, they seek to embrace the universal and offer a space for healing. “Good music would make sense to a farmer in 17th century France as it would to a pastry chef in Slovenia in the 21st century,” shares Lazar. “It’s not written for any temporal powers that be. It’s about expressing our common humanity and taking it from there.” This intuitive approach fuels Oracle Sisters creative process - whether composing in a frozen French farmhouse or performing live with an ever-expanding lineup of collaborators, the band remains committed to exploring the unknown. Through Divinations, they hope to leave listeners feeling transcendent, levitating on waves of intuition and discovery.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Louisville, Kentucky-based musician and artist Evan Patterson never planned for JAYE JAYLE to blossom from a stripped-down solo project into the otherworldly, full-band sonic experience that it is today. In the beginning, the songs were short and lighthearted, written on acoustic guitar with no intention of releasing them or even performing them publicly. Time, however, is a fickle thing. `After Alter' is an astounding collection of musical memories and emotional fragments, all drawn together from previous recording sessions and previous lives in order to chart a cathartic creative course into new, unknown territories. At once volatile, gut wrenching and serene; expect the unexpected. Raw remnants and lingering refrains from these pivotal moments are reframed to form a powerful reminder of what Jaye Jayle is and always has been: an unadulterated, unfiltered outlet for the sounds that pour out of Patterson's mind at any given time or place. `After Alter' is a document of the indecipherable, of feeting feelings dragged once again to the surface. Lead single and opening track `Father Fiction', for example, dives headlong into the fables and factious ideologies of organised religion with a hardened gaze and a wry smile as rolling drums and repetitive discordant guitar refrains spiral ever down into the labyrinth of meaning and misinterpretation. Elsewhere, `Fear Is Here' sees Jaye Jayle facing up to day-to-day examples of how terrifying everything around us can become within an instant as the song's truncated blues piano hook is pushed ever further, distorted over time into something strange and hideous whilst the crawling post-hardcore dirge of `A Blackout' serves as a searing critique of the American Dream; a nameless, homeless protagonist worships the alluring glow of billboard ads from their bed in the dirt on the side of the highway. Simultaneously both tracks five and eight though, the arresting `Bloody Me' is Jaye Jayle's dichotic, janiform identity made manifest. Written even before the band's debut album was released, track five's `Bloody Me' is a bolshy, bass-driven punk rock retaliation to dressing up for Halloween because Patterson is always dressed for Halloween. Track eight's `Bloody Me' however, is a tender solo acoustic recording cut straight to wax at Third Man Records in Nashville, mere hours before Patterson saw Bob Dylan perform for the first time. Two sides of the same coin; one ferocious and snarling, the other plaintive and bare but both unapologetically Jaye Jayle. By creatively exorcising these poignant moments, Jaye Jayle have opened themselves to even more inspiration. FOR FANS OF Leonard Cohen fronting Spiritualized, Spacemen 3, JJ Cale, Lungfish, Angels of Light, Young Widows The very limited Help Edition is single colour purple vinyl!

It’s safe to assume no one in the audience at Carnegie Hall on March 30, 1974 anticipated what Miles Davis would play at the concert documented on Dark Magus: Live at Carnegie Hall. Recorded near the tail end of his electric period, the double album remains the darkest, most ferocious statement of Davis’ career — a visionary effort that foresaw developments in jungle, noise-rock, funk, and drum ‘n’ bass.

Initially issued in Japan in 1977, Dark Magus waited two decades for U.S. release. Now, more than 50 years after Davis and his ensemble blew minds at the famous New York venue, it gets its first-ever domestic issue on vinyl — and on a definitive-sounding pressing at that.

Mastered at Mobile Fidelity's California studio, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Dark Magus invites you to pull up a seat and wrap your head around an exhilarating performance that simultaneously functions as an audition, experiment, release, and magnificent explosion of jazz-rock fusion. We hope your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge.

This collectible reissue presents the improvisational magic that unfolded onstage — the skronking tonalities, wah-wah-pedal bluster, acid-washed effects, furious drumming, run-the-voodoo-down grooves, menacing riffs, crashing cymbals —with incredible detail, color, and pace. It also captures the band’s unbelievable energy, rendering both instruments and on-the-fly changes with revealing depth, definition, and dynamics. At its core, MoFi’s audiophile set takes you deep into the boundless mystery, promise, and uncertainty of Davis and company’s efforts like never before.

The story behind Dark Magus is nearly as unbelievable as the spur-of-the-moment compositions that resulted when Davis brought drummer Al Foster, bassist Michael Henderson, percussionist James Mtume, horn virtuoso Dave Liebman, and guitarists Pete Cosey and Reggie Lucas together, and, in a new twist for the concert’s second half, added guitarist Dominique Gaumont and tenor saxophonist Azar Lawrence to mix. That the latter two instrumentalists had never seen each other until that night adds to Davis’ legend — and penchant for bold, unorthodox moves.

Ditto Davis’ own actions that spring evening, which reportedly included showing up to the show an hour late and taking the stage with his back facing the crowd. The strategy worked. Davis inspired the group to play in a bold manner that few, if any, had heard before. Dark Magus is a rhythmic bonanza. Rooted in Afro-centrist techniques, avante-garde sensibilities, and exploratory moods, the songs eschew set arrangements and solos, and, for the most part, melodic devices.

For Davis, Dark Magus represented a personal triumph amid a period marked by health issues, addictions, and critical decline. The latter slight would be corrected, but not until decades later when Dark Magus saw Stateside release in 1997 via a CD reissue. Of course, the free-form patterns, unpredictable passages, dense structures, and distorted blues that course through the songs — titled after Swahili numerals — are not for everyone. And certainly not for the fainthearted. Though Dark Magus contains majestic moments marked by quiet restraint and something on the level of balladry, its rich and radical concoction of tormented thwacks, thumps, cracks, clatters, wails, bleeps, burbles, stomps, and enigmatic beats remains its adventurous heart and soul.

Primal and enigmatic, fierce and jagged, forceful and revolutionary, jolting and terrifying, Dark Magus seemingly attacks from any and all directions. Turn it up loud and let the prophetic brilliance of this inimitable and relentlessly funky album wash over you.

Established in 2014, These Wicked Rivers are Derby’s entry to the new wave of rock and roll that is sweeping across the United Kingdom. Drawing influence from the well of rock legends and blues greats, the band have made quite an impact since their inception with their unique brand of blues-infused modern rock steadily picking up plaudits for their gutsy live performances across the UK and beyond.

The ensemble received a slew of positive reviews for their debut EP ‘The Enemy’ back in 2015 and followed it up with 2017’s ‘II’, gaining them attention within the emerging UK rock scene as well as airplay on Planet Rock radio. Debut album ‘Eden’ was released in May 2020 and brought new levels of critical acclaim, including a Classic Rock Magazine ‘High Hopes’ feature as well as a coveted ‘Track of the Week’ accolade.

On the live circuit the lads have forged an ever-growing fan base through supports with the likes of Massive Wagons, Those Damn Crows, Kris Barras and Hayseed Dixie, as well playing stand-out performances at festivals such as Planet Rockstock, Steelhouse Festival, Stonedead Festival and Giants of Rock. 2024 has proven to be their busiest year yet, kicking off in January with a hometown show that sold out in just 5 hours. Eden's highly anticipated follow up, 'Force of Nature' dropped 1st March 2024 via Fat Earth Records, reaching no. 3 in the UK Rock Charts which called for an almighty (sold out) celebration at Matlock Bath's Grand Pavilion. The band ventured to Europe for the first time in April, delivering 'Peace, Love & Lampshades' to sell-out crowds across France, Germany and The Netherlands before another successful UK tour in May which saw the 'Rivers "Family" of fans continue to grow

Dieses Album erzählt eine fesselnde Geschichte über Widerstandsfähigkeit und die erlösende Kraft der Liebe. Als SingerSongwriter, Gitarrist und Produzent hat Henry im Laufe der Jahre zahlreiche erfolgreiche Alben veröffentlicht, die sich durch eine reichhaltige Verschmelzung von Folk-, Jazz- und Blues-Einflüssen auszeichnen. Auf Invisible Hour sind einige seiner engsten musikalischen Weƽefährten zu hören, darunter The Milk Carton Kids
sowie Lisa Hannigan. Nun erstmals auf 180g-Doppelvinyl erhältlich, inklusive zweier alternativer Demoversionen von "Slide" und "The Glorious Dead", die ursprünglich auf Henrys 2017er Album Thrum veröffentlicht wurden, sowie das bisher unveröffentlichte Demo "News From The Great Wide World".

Expanding beyond the Folk and Pop stylings of his fi rst album, Waits" second studio release The Heart of Saturday Night established his reputation as a versatile and distinctly American songwriter. It"s bluesy jazz arrangements featured bass, drums, sax and Waits on piano. The title track, a melancholy ode to Saturday night rituals, and the tenderly romantic hymn-like "San Diego Serenade" are enduring classics covered by an array of artists from Diana Krall and Nancy Griffi th to folk hero Eric Anderson. The album also features "Diamonds On My Windshield", the fi rst of what would become a signature for Waits", the spoken word-poetry song. Waits" delivers these lyrics as pure beat jazz in the stylings of Kerouac, Langston Hughes and Bob Kaufman.

If you feel like motoring down the highway at 100 miles per hour breathing in pure rock n roll exhaust then look no further– Rowdy is here to kick out the jams and rev up with their self-titled debut LP Rowdy! These seasoned rockers are dealing out a heavy dose of song-forward classic garage punk that sounds like a mixed bag of Joan Jett singing for Teengenerate and Roky Erikson and The Aliens covering Oblivions. This is no surprise as Rowdy is formed by members of legendary Austin band Hex Dispensers and Scotland's Goldie Dawn, (Hex Dispensers, major contributors to the Texas garage punk scene). Rowdy’s sound runs the gamut with catchy 77 punk tunes like “All in My Head”- with its huge chorus, anthemic doo-wop tinged songs like “Fine Mystery, and bluesy garage rippers like “Cost Of It”. The recording is raw and punchy, dripping with overdriven twangy guitars, a steadfast, tight rhythm section, and blown out vocals. This record is pure rock n roll madness! Pop this Rowdy on in your headphones, shotgun a Steel Reserve, and you’ll be on your motorcycle doing donuts on your highschool principal’s lawn in no time.

imited White Vinyl

Norwegian post punk duo Mayflower Madame return with their 3rd Studio album and we are delighted to welcome them to the Up In Her Room Family!

Norwegian band Mayflower Madame is set to release their highly anticipated third LP Insighton 1st November 2024. The lead singles, "A Foretold Ecstasy" and "Paint It All in Blue," have garnered widespread acclaim and extensive radio support, including airtime on BBC 6 Music. These tracks offer just a glimpse of what the album delivers—an expansive canvas of pulsating post-punk, shimmering shoegaze, and atmospheric psych-noir, masterfully blended with delicate sonic nuances.
Mixed and mastered by Maurizio Baggio (known for his work with The Soft Moon, Boy Harsher, and The Vacant Lots),Insightshowcases the band refining their sound into a sharper and more expansive sonic landscape than ever before. This album sees them exploring greater depths and heights, delivering a hypnotic journey through the shadows, filled with haunting melodies and dreamy melancholia. At the same time, it remains catchy and dynamic, with moments of vibrant brightness.
Insightis dedicated to frontman Trond Fagernes' stillborn daughter and is bookended by two songs—"Ocean of Bitterness" and "Insightfor the Mourning Hours"—that directly address this profound sorrow. Between these somber pieces, the album delves into a wide range of emotions, from nostalgic reflections on lost loves to feverish depictions of escapism and catharsis.
Over the past years, Mayflower Madame have gained a reputation far beyond their hometown of Oslo, Norway. They made their debut with the album ‘Observed in a Dream’ in 2016, which created a buzz in the indie music press and earned them tours across Europe and North America, while 2020s long-awaited sequel ‘Prepared for a Nightmare’ firmly established their position as one of the continent’s leading purveyors of cinematic shoegaze psychedelia swathed in 1980s post-punk and dark romanticism.

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2004’s 'Mantra Of Love’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what others had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2004 …

“Acid Mothers are strong folk. You'd think they'd tire quickly, all tucked away on their island, strewn about on tree roots while baking their lungs and throats to a knotty green tinge. But instead of waltzing through life like hippies, they manage to not only tour and put out records every year, but also to fill those albums with 30-minute jams and assorted freakouts. And while evil jam bands would fill that space with guitar work taken from the Classic Rock Manual of Clichés, Makoto Kawabata and company assault listeners with frighteningly dense walls of white noise, psychedelic swirl effects and, yes, even guitar solos-- albeit ones that are more Merzbow or Keiji Haino than Gary Rossington. Truly, AMT's endurance and threshold for cosmic lashings are both worthy of admiration.

But how much AMT can you take in one sitting? If there's anything this band has taught us-- via records such as 2002's Electric Heavyland and the ferocious Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O-- it's that they're not afraid to reach for the upper regions of consciousness. On Mantra of Love, they offer two titles over the course of one hour, never faltering along the way, and it's as if we listeners are just brief visitors passing through a never-ending, spontaneous group trip. For all I know, Kawabata has hundreds of hours of this stuff on his hard drive-- at any single moment, this record's sheer volume of sound is a clamor to behold. However, if you aren't dialed into that the particular space AMT inhabits (for me, it's the mystical fire-baptism standby), you might not hear their glorious noise for all the, well, glorious noise.

"La Le Lo" begins as a lengthy psychedelic ballad sung by Cotton Casino (who doubles on "beer & cigarettes"), who is accompanied by her own ghostly backing vocals. The band is playing a mantra as Casino waxes earth-mother stylings to the moon. The serenity is broken by a patented AMT rave led by Kawabata's electric sitar (!) solo. Ace rhythm section Tsuyama Atsushi ("monster bass") and Koizumi Hajime hold things together, as does the generally decent recording quality (not a given for these guys), but the real money is in effects-- lots and lots effects. Much like France's Richard Pinhas or AMT's countrymen in Les Rallizes Denudes and High Rise, the band understands the collaborative power of solo + overdriven Moog sirens and screams. And, also like those artists, Acid Mothers can go on all night if need be. About 25 minutes into this piece, any hell that hadn't already broken loose gets its due, and the band speeds to a fiery climax before winding down into glimmering astro-ambience.

The second track, "L'Ambition dans le Miroir", also begins as a minor ballad featuring Casino's haunting solo vocal. The Mothers set her up with a faux-blues drag and a thick buffer of synth-rays; when Casino actually enters, she fights for airtime with an array of falling stars and cosmic dust. However, this time there is no overwhelming solo to power the comedown. Casino intermittently coos in the background while droning horns keep the auxiliary pixie haze from evaporating. As they showed on In C and La Novia, AMT are more than adept at creating calmer storms-- listeners just have to catch them in the right light. Mantra of Love doesn't necessarily capture the most inspired moments in their canon but as usual with this band's records, it's rarely at a loss for moments of horror or grandeur.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. : Cotton Casino - Vocal, Beer & Cigarettes - Tsuyama Atsushi - Monster Bass, Vocal, Cosmic Joker - Higashi Hiroshi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Koizumi Hajime - Drums, Percussion, Sleeping Monk - Kawabata Makoto - Guitar, Bouzouki, Electric Sitar, Violin, Hammond Organ, Speed Guru

Re-mastered from the original Mono Master Tapes. Limited repress 1000 copies.

180 gr vinyl pressed by Pallas in Germany.

Deluxe high-gloss flipback album jacket.

Essay written by Brian Priestley.

Double insert using an original photo by JP Leloir from the concert.

Artwork by Jean-Louis Duralek.

Each record has been visually checked to prevent defects.

A never-before released Art Blakey 1965 live recordings.

First official release with the full permission and cooperation of the Art Blakey Estate & INA (Institut National de l’Audiovisuel).

Art Blakey, Live in ’65 boasts an exceptional one-hour concert from Paris in 1965. This performance showcases one of the few undocumented Blakey bands, the New Jazzmen, featuring Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Jaki Byard on piano, Reggie Workman on bass, Nathan Davis on sax, and, of course, Blakey on drums.
Freddie Hubbard’s incendiary playing on “Blue Moon” and the blistering 24-minute version of his own “Crisis” shows that he was one of the most innovative trumpeters in jazz history.

On this live session, the audiences seem to have been enthusiastic and appreciative. “Everywhere we’d go people would say, This is the best Jazz Messengers we’ve heard!”, according to Davis. “And because of the way Jaki would play and Reggie would go, it was like a semi-freedom thing – with Messengers heads, you know, but when we got to soloing…! And Blakey was ridin’ and floatin’ the time…but he would always be loose enough to follow, to keep it going. He’s one helluva musician.”

Recorded at Palais de la Mutualité, Paris, France, November 3, 1965.

Freddie Hubbard (Trumpet)
Nathan Davis (Tenor saxophone)
Jacki Byard (Piano)
Reggie Workman (Bass)
Art Blakey (Drums)

PIG DESTROYERs wegweisendes drittes Album TERRIFYER feiert sein 20-jähriges Jubiläum mit einer riesigen, limitierten 2LP und 2CD!
Die Deluxe-Wiederveröffentlichung bietet eine erweiterte Verpackung und neu remasterte Aufnahmen von TERRIFYER und Natasha!
Auf TERRIFYER brodelt PIG DESTROYERs beängstigend fesselnde Mischung aus Metal, Grind, Thrash und Punkrock mit einer Intensität, die den
Unvorbereiteten verunsichert. PIG DESTROYERs derangierte, bösartige Attacke hüllt den Hörer in einen Kokon aus grausigem Nihilismus.

"Enjoy The Ride Records in conjunction with Paramount Music proudly presents 48 HRS., Composed and Conducted by James Horner.

Eddie Murphy rocketed to movie star status (and earned a Best Actor Golden Globe nomination) in this acclaimed action-comedy that pushes the limits of both genres. Nick Nolte is unforgettable as Jack Cates, a rough-edged Inspector on the hunt for two vicious cop killers. Unlikely ride-along con Reggie Hammond (Murphy), is given 48-hour leave from prison to help Cates on the case. The laughs fly almost as much as the punches, as both men attempt two very different goals in a short amount of time.

Available on vinyl for the first time with remastered audio, 48 HRS. is limited to 500 copies across three color variants."

‘The Man’ unapologetically traverses between genres. From foot stomping funk and blues to world music, folk and pop, Calum refuses to be placed in a box.

2024 Repress

Re-mastered from the original Mono Master Tapes. Limited repress 1000 copies.

180 gr vinyl pressed by Pallas in Germany.

Deluxe high-gloss flipback album jacket.

Essay written by Brian Priestley.

Double insert using an original photo by JP Leloir from the concert.

Artwork by Jean-Louis Duralek.

Each record has been visually checked to prevent defects.

A never-before released Art Blakey 1965 live recordings.

First official release with the full permission and cooperation of the Art Blakey Estate & INA (Institut National de l’Audiovisuel).

Art Blakey, Live in ’65 boasts an exceptional one-hour concert from Paris in 1965. This performance showcases one of the few undocumented Blakey bands, the New Jazzmen, featuring Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Jaki Byard on piano, Reggie Workman on bass, Nathan Davis on sax, and, of course, Blakey on drums.
Freddie Hubbard’s incendiary playing on “Blue Moon” and the blistering 24-minute version of his own “Crisis” shows that he was one of the most innovative trumpeters in jazz history.

On this live session, the audiences seem to have been enthusiastic and appreciative. “Everywhere we’d go people would say, This is the best Jazz Messengers we’ve heard!”, according to Davis. “And because of the way Jaki would play and Reggie would go, it was like a semi-freedom thing – with Messengers heads, you know, but when we got to soloing…! And Blakey was ridin’ and floatin’ the time…but he would always be loose enough to follow, to keep it going. He’s one helluva musician.”

Recorded at Palais de la Mutualité, Paris, France, November 3, 1965.

Freddie Hubbard (Trumpet)
Nathan Davis (Tenor saxophone)
Jacki Byard (Piano)
Reggie Workman (Bass)
Art Blakey (Drums)

"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.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

On October 18th, Twisted Pine releases its joyous third LP, Love Your Mind. Dubbed “a band to watch” by NPR, the band’s first album in four years is the long-awaited follow-up to Right Now, which No Depression praised for its "sheer pop glory, funky all-day grooves, and spacecraft sonics.” The title represents the quartet landing after several years of touring, serious introspection, glorious bursts of creativity, and many after-hour festival jam sessions that had them pickin’ ‘til dawn. What started as a (semi-)traditional bluegrass band in the trenches of the storied Massachusetts Americana scene a decade ago has bloomed into an ensemble gleefully ready to race down any artistic detour. This is the sound of Twisted Pine now —experimental production, fearless songwriting featuring input from each member, finely-crafted collaborative arrangements, playing that is sometimes virtuosic, always visceral. The sound of a band that demands you Love Your Mind.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

“Live In Liverpool” was recorded during the last night of the “New Adventures” tour at Grand Central Hall, Liverpool, UK, on October 18th, 2019. It features true P.P. Arnold classics, like “The First Cut Is The Deepest” and “Angel Of The Morning”, as well as special live versions of the songs from “The New Adventures of... P.P. Arnold”, such as “I Believe”, “Hold On To Your Dreams”, Paul Weller’s “Shoot The Dove”, the Northern Soul classic “You Got Me”, and Steve Cradock’s “Still Trying” and “Magic Hour”. This special live performance is a true testament to P.P. Arnold’s versatility as a vocalist and her charisma as a performer, and shows just how effortlessly her rich, soulful voice lends itself to various genres, from soul to rhythm and blues to rock and pop. “Live In Liverpool” will be released as a CD Digipak edition and 180g black double vinyl, packed in a high- quality gatefold jacket on October 18, 2024, via earMUSIC.