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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surprise Chef’s music is based on evoking mood; their vivid arrangements utilize time and space to build soundscapes that invite the listener into their world. The quintet’s distinct sound pulls from 70s film scores, the funkier side of jazz, and the samples that form the foundation of hip hop. They push the boundaries of instrumental soul and funk with their own approach honed by countless hours in the studio, studying the masters, and perhaps most importantly, the “tyranny of distance” that dictates a unique perspective to their music. Hailing from just outside of Melbourne, Australia their first two albums, All News Is Good News and Daylight Savings amassed a die-hard fanbase and brought their sound from their home studio to every corner of the globe. The band is now signed to Big Crown Records, joining a lineage of contemporary and classic sounds that have influenced Surprise Chef’s music since their formation in 2017. Surprise Chef is Lachlan Stuckey on guitar, Jethro Curtin on keys, Carl Lindeberg on bass, Andrew Congues on drums, and Hudson Whitlock—the latest member who does it all from percussion to composing to producing. Their self proclaimed "moody shades of instrumental jazz-funk" have a bit of everything: punchy drums, infectious keys, rhythm guitar you might hear on a Studio One record, and flute lines that could be from a Blue Note session. But when you step back and take in the entirety of their sound and approach, you'll hear and see a group greater than the sum of its parts. In many ways Surprise Chef embodies the idiom "the benefits of limits." They were limited in that there weren't many people making or talking about instrumental jazz/soul/funk in Southeast Australia, let alone putting out records. This left them to develop their sound and approach in a kind of creative isolation where a small circle of friends and like-minded musicians fed off each other. "Being in Australia, being so far away, we only get glimpses and glances of this music’s origins," Stuckey says. "But hearing a label like Big Crown was one of the first times we realized you could make fresh, new soul music that wasn't super retro or just nostalgic." This approach is on full display throughout their new album Education & Recreation. Tracks like “Velodrome” pair chunky drums with an earworm synth line that has all the making of something you would find on an Ultimate Breaks & Beats compilation while numbers like “Iconoclasts” show their knack for tasteful use of space. From the crushing intro of “Suburban Breeze” to the floaty mellow bop of “Spring’s Theme” Surprise Chef has weaved together an album that takes you through peaks and valleys of emotion and provides a vivid soundtrack that will pull you deeper into your imagination. There is a beauty in the vast space for interpretation of instrumental music and they are adding a modern classic to the canon with this new album. Turn on the record and enjoy the ride, wherever it may take you.

We are proud to present the official 40-year anniversary issue of Imagination's debut album Shake It. Remastered from original tapes, this deluxe edition is a double vinyl LP with gatefold sleeve, featuring a newly available lyric insert.

Shake It covers a diverse spectrum of styles and sounds, all combining to a unique soulful amalgam that ranges from sunshine AOR funk ("Mornin' Lights") and leftfield disco ("Strawberry Wine") to psychy, epic, downtempo, vocoder grooves ("Can't Stand Without You") and more. Originally released in 1980, it fast became one of Germany's most collectible privately-pressed LPs.

Shake It was the creation of young thoroughbreds working hard on becoming professional musicians, trying to take their next big step in the music business. Starting out as a pure jazz-rock combo in the mid '70s (as we hear on the recently released lost studio tapes, I'm Always Right (The WDR Tapes 1977)) Imagination left behind their instrumental roots, incorporating new musical trends and styles.

Uwe Ziss, their saxophonist and flutist, became one of two lead singers in Imagination. He would be joined by the younger Roger Mork, a student of original guitarist Willi Hövelmann, around 1979. Roger's voice would best be heard on the aforementioned "Mornin' Lights", one of the various standout tracks on Shake It. However, there is much more that this album offers.

There are brilliant soulful soft rock ballads like "Clouds Flee Before The Wind" and "Waitin for your Call" or the catchy "California" song that switches from a dreamy Westcoast sound (as the title implies) to danceable rhythm & blues with equal ease. Last but not least, we have unearthed three unissued bonus cuts. On one, the demo take of "Clouds Flee Before The Wind", we hear, for the first time ever, the original refrain of this song, which, for some strange reason, was taken out from the final mix on Shake It.

When all eight original songs were recorded and mastered in June, at the well-equipped West Aix-La-Chapelle studio, the stage was set for Imagination's long-desired career push. They'd initially press about 2500 copies of Shake It selling it mainly, locally, directly to their hometown fanbase in Düsseldorf. Meanwhile, their manager would attempt to arrange a record deal with a music label. Unfortunately, this became more difficult than expected. Negotiations with a smaller publishing company were made by Imagination, and Shake It was repressed on Nash Records in 1981 without their consent, under the false promises of a nationwide promotional tour which would never come to fruition. At the same time, the group would face a UK band under the same name achieving mainstream success, making it difficult (not to say entirely impossible) to perform as "Imagination". Though the band would remain active after Shake It, they'd split shortly after Nash's duplicitous reissue hit store shelves.

Luckily, through time, Shake It itself has remained worthwhile, creatively, for those who stumbled upon it and financially, too, becoming quite the sought after gem in record collecting circles. This deluxe anniversary double vinyl issue makes the LP available once again at a far more reasonable price, featuring the original, illustrious, eye-catching, Roy Lichtenstein-influenced banana art, as well as previously unavailable press pictures and more.

CELEBRATING SUN RECORDS - THE LABEL WHERE ROCK 'N' ROLL WAS BORN! The Rock 'n' Roll Collection features 40-songs from the most important record label in the history of music, with everyone newly remastered from the original Sun Records master tapes. A comprehensive introduction to some of the most iconic and influential music ever recorded. These are the list remaining copies of the strictly limited edition pressed on orange vinyl exclusive to UK retailer Sainsbury’s. Elvis Presley introduced the rockabilly sound to the world in 1954 with the recordings he made at Sun Records. These epitomised the famous “Sun sound” and set the scene for the rock ‘n’ roll explosion to follow. This raw and exciting new sound was a remarkable fusion of white country music and black R&B and quickly found an eager audience with the youth of the day. Presley’s extraordinary success at Sun Records led to the tiny Memphis-based label becoming a magnet for aspiring rockabilly singers from all over America’s South. Despite a relatively short heyday, that “Sun sound” has endured the test of time and remains as popular as ever with listeners of all age groups. As well as featuring Elvis and such other household names as Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Charlie Rich and Roy Orbison, the gatefold-sleeved double-album also includes significant contributions from the label’s other important artists such as: Billy Lee Riley, Sonny Burgess, The Miller Sisters, Warren Smith, Malcolm Yelvington, Jimmy Wages, and Earl Hooker. Includes such all-time rock ‘n’ roll classics as: Mystery Train, That’s All Right, Blue Suede Shoes, Great Balls Of Fire, I Walk The Line, Yakety Yak, Rock Island Line, Good Rockin’ Tonight, Red Hot, Ooby Dooby, Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On …and many more!

CELEBRATING SUN RECORDS - THE LABEL WHERE ROCK 'N' ROLL WAS BORN! The Rock 'n' Roll Collection features 40-songs from the most important record label in the history of music, with everyone newly remastered from the original Sun Records master tapes. A comprehensive introduction to some of the most iconic and influential music ever recorded. These are the list remaining copies of the strictly limited edition pressed on orange vinyl exclusive to UK retailer Sainsbury’s. Elvis Presley introduced the rockabilly sound to the world in 1954 with the recordings he made at Sun Records. These epitomised the famous “Sun sound” and set the scene for the rock ‘n’ roll explosion to follow. This raw and exciting new sound was a remarkable fusion of white country music and black R&B and quickly found an eager audience with the youth of the day. Presley’s extraordinary success at Sun Records led to the tiny Memphis-based label becoming a magnet for aspiring rockabilly singers from all over America’s South. Despite a relatively short heyday, that “Sun sound” has endured the test of time and remains as popular as ever with listeners of all age groups. As well as featuring Elvis and such other household names as Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Charlie Rich and Roy Orbison, the gatefold-sleeved double-album also includes significant contributions from the label’s other important artists such as: Billy Lee Riley, Sonny Burgess, The Miller Sisters, Warren Smith, Malcolm Yelvington, Jimmy Wages, and Earl Hooker. Includes such all-time rock ‘n’ roll classics as: Mystery Train, That’s All Right, Blue Suede Shoes, Great Balls Of Fire, I Walk The Line, Yakety Yak, Rock Island Line, Good Rockin’ Tonight, Red Hot, Ooby Dooby, Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On …and many more!

Just over a decade ago, Japanese indie-pop duo Tenniscoats recorded »Papa's Ear« (2012) and »Tan-Tan Therapy« (2007), two albums made with musical and production help from Swedish post-rock/folk trio Tape. Originally released on Häpna, they are beautiful documents of the exploratory music made by a close-knit collective of musicians, fully at ease with each other, playing songs written by Tenniscoats and arranging them in gentle and generous ways. Released during a prolific phase of collaboration for Tenniscoats – during the late ‘00s and early ‘10s, they would also collaborate with Jad Fair, The Pastels, Secai and Pastacas – they have, however, never been available on vinyl. In collaboration with Alien Transistor, Morr Music is now reissuing these albums with bonus material.

Filled with graceful pop songs, autumnal folk tunes, and gentle yet risk-taking improvisations, »Tan-Tan Therapy« was the first Tenniscoats album to be released in Europe, after a run of albums on Japanese labels, and the excellent »Live Wanderus« (2005) on Australian imprint Chapter Music. It was also the first recorded evidence of their collaboration with the three members of Tape and that group’s extended musical family. It opens with one of Tenniscoats’ signature songs, the pop fantasia of »Baibaba Bimba«, with Tenniscoats singer Saya repeating a light-headed incantation over joyous brass. The essence of Tenniscoats is contained in »Baibaba Bimba«: uplifting melody and playful musicianship, tinged with distant echoes of winsome melancholy.

From there, »Tan-Tan Therapy« explores many hues of lustrous blue. »Oetu to kanki no Namoriuta (Given Song of Sob and Joy)« is an aquatic arbour, the musicians’ gentle performances growing together like vines and seaweed as Saya’s voice swims through the waterway. »Umbarepa!« is full of play and pleasure, sparkling with glockenspiel as snare drum tattoos push the song ever-forward. »Abi and Travel« floats past, a lovely instrumental built from shifting layers of synthesizer and pianet; »Good B.«, an extra track originally only available on the Japanese edition of »Tan-Tan Therapy«, is added to this reissue, and follows a similar thread, its humming pump and Hammond organs swirling under beautiful vocals from Saya and guest performer Kazumi Nikaido.

Throughout, you can sense the deep empathy the members of Tenniscoats and Tape have for one another. It’s a conversational, tender and, at times, fragile music that can only be created out of mutual trust and kindness, with each of the players contributing to the community of sound they’re building. There’s an element here, too, of feeling out the possibilities of what this creative meeting can achieve, something reflected in the loose-limbs sprawl of »Marui Hifo (Everyone)«, which echoes the seaside drift of Bristol post-rock group Crescent, and the following »One Swan Swim«, a dreamsong redolent of the sleepy sensorium of Robert Wyatt’s »Rock Bottom«.

The freedom and liberty at the heart of Tenniscoats is something Tape and their friends have picked up on, beautifully so, and run with during the entirety of »Tan-Tan Therapy«. This is music with its wings outstretched, wanting to take to the air, ready to fly.

If someone would have told me years ago, when I started the label, that one day I would be releasing music by Ernesto Djédjé, the king of Ziglibithy himself, I would have personally driven them to the closest psychiatric institute such is the magnitude of the artist and his iconic tune “Zighlibitiens”.

The star of Ernesto Djédjé started rising in the late 60s, when he became the guitar player and leader of Ivoiro Star, founded by Amédée Pierre, star of Dopé, the leading musical style at the time. Annoyed by the “congolisation” of the Ivorian music that was taking place within the band, Ernesto left the group and emigrated to Paris in 1968 to record his first few singles arranged by Manu Dibango and influenced by Soul, Rhythm & Blues and Jerk. Those recordings reflect the musical mood at that time which was dictated by two musical trends within the Ivoirian scene: Traditional music, embodied amongst others by Amédée Pierre on one hand and imported music from the States, Cameroon and Zaïre on the other. And while the first trend was generally neglected, the youth fully embraced the second and as a result bands such as „Les Black Devils“, „Djinn-Music“, „Bozambo”, “Jimmy Hyacinthe”, shot to stardom overnight by recording mainly funk and disco music. It is within this context that Ernesto would draw the inspiration for a future formula.

Returning to Côte d‘Ivoire in 1974 Ernesto began looking for like minded musicians to form the mighty “Ziglibithiens”. Diabo Steck (drums), Bamba Yang (keyboards & Guitar), Léon Sina (Guitar) and Assalé Best (chef d´orchestre and Saxophon) would become the core of the group and together with Ernesto they began thinking of ways of combining the rhythms and chants of the Bété people and fuse them with Makossa, Funk and Disco and create a musical style that was both Ivorian and International. He called his experiment Ziglibithy and his first two albums, immortalised at the EMI studios in 1977 in Lagos and released on the Badmos label, took West Africa by storm turning Ernesto Djédjé into an icon overnight and one of the legends of African music.
Ernesto Djédjé died in mysterious circumstances on June 9th, 1983 - at the age of 35 - shocking the whole Ivorian nation. And although the end came abruptly, it didn’t come soon enough, and Ernesto had time - within 5 albums - to cement his legacy as one of the most innovative artists the Ivory Coast ever produced.

The song Zighlibitiens, brought to Colombia by an aeronautical mechanic in the early 1980, would become a huge hit on the Caribbean Coast. Renamed “El Tigre” by locals soundsystem operators - certainly due to the Badmos logo - that particular song would reach legendary status in Barranquilla and Cartagena. Setting fire to uncountable local parties, it has become one of the most sought-after Album in that part of the world. And so, while Ziglibithy has mostly disappeared from the airwaves of its country of birth, on the other side of the Atlantic, its fire continues to shine bright.

‘Complex and dangerously catchy, lyrically sophisticated and provocative, noisy and somehow serene… Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… is simply a masterpiece.’ – Pitchfork, 10/10, April 2002

‘The looped chaos and plangent melodies... effectively heralded the birth of a new band, as Jeff Tweedy overhauled his compositional modus operandi. So tender was the emotional core of songs like ‘Jesus, Etc.’ that the record became wrapped up in America’s post-9/11 cultural discourse... Yankee Hotel Foxtrot embedded Wilco’s great American songwriter status.’
– Mojo

‘It's as if the Flying Burrito Brothers suddenly decided to cover Pavement songs. There is a gentle, rootsy beauty here that Wilco has buried in a box of vulnerability and covered with a handful of dirt.’ – New York Times

‘Born out of turmoil, Wilco’s fourth album was a stone-cold classic.’ – Uncut

Nonesuch releases seven special editions of Wilco’s landmark 2002 album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The now-classic record has been remastered and will be available as part of each set. The Super Deluxe version comprises eleven vinyl LPs and one CD – including demos, drafts, and instrumentals, charting the making of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – plus a live 2002 concert recording and a September 2001 radio performance and interview. That box set includes eighty-two previously unreleased music tracks as well as a new book featuring an interview with singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeff Tweedy, drummer Glenn Kotche, and Jim O’Rourke, who mixed the acclaimed 2002 album; an in-depth essay by journalist/author Bob Mehr; and previously unseen photos of the band making the album in their Chicago studio, The Loft. For the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot recording, Wilco was Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Glenn Kotche, and Jay Bennett with Craig Christiansen, Ken Coomer, Jessy Greene, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Jim O’Rourke.

A live version of ‘Reservations’ from a legendary concert contained on Snoozin’ at The Pageant – Live 7/23/02 at The Pageant, St. Louis, MO – a recording that is part of the Super Deluxe LP and CD sets as well as the Deluxe LP and digital sets – is now available. A limited-edition vinyl 7” with versions of ‘I’m the Man Who Loves You’ and ‘War on War’, from the Super Deluxe box set, is available now from wilcostore.

Wilco marked the anniversary of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – which was released commercially on April 23, 2002, after a circuitous and storied gestation, including a period of streaming for free on the band’s website – with a performance of the album’s ‘Poor Places’ on April 18’s Late Show with Stephen Colbert, which may be seen here. The band is currently performing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in its entirety (plus a mix of concert favourites and rarities) in two limited runs at New York City’s United Palace and Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre. The Chicago show on April 23 will be available as a live stream here.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was widely acclaimed as one of 2002’s best albums, appearing in year-end lists of Mojo, NME, Q, Rolling Stone, and Uncut, among many others. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot also was featured in multiple decade-end lists, with Rolling Stone naming it #3 Album of the 2000s, as well as many Greatest Albums of All Time lists, including in the NME.

Among Yankee’s inspirations was a recording Tweedy bought at Tower Records in the late 1990s, The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations. As Bob Mehr points out in his new album note, the record got “deep under Tweedy’s skin.” Tweedy said in his 2017 memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back), “It was as fascinating to me as anything being made by actual musicians using actual instruments… I wanted to know why it was so hypnotic to me. Why could I listen to hours of this stuff, even though I had no clue what any of them were saying. That question became the foundation for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… the way people communicated or ultimately failed to communicate.” The album takes its title from a haunting recording of a woman repeating those words that is included in The Conet Project; that recording is sampled in the penultimate song on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘Poor Places’.

“Conceptually, Tweedy had decided to focus on a big idea for the next album: the state of America. His lyrics – often distilled from scribbled pages of free verse or poetry – became a form of inquiry,” Mehr continues. Tweedy said, in 2004, “I wanted to write about the stuff right in front of my eyes, microscopically looking at America and asking questions about each little thing… How can there be all these good things and things that I love about America, alongside all of these things that I’m ashamed of? And that was an internal question, too; I think I felt that way about myself.”

Mehr says, “Exploring those questions, while weaving in strands of Eastern philosophy and bits of autobiography – Yankee lyrics would be loaded with the pained imagery of someone suffering from migraines and mental health issues – Tweedy would conjure a deep examination of both country and self.”

Describing the uncanny, strangely prescient feeling of the album, which Wilco began offering as a free stream on its website in 2001, Mehr notes: “In the wake of 9/11, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot would be burdened with unintended meaning. The disc had originally been scheduled for a September 11 release. Its cover – a Sam Jones-shot image of Chicago’s twin Marina Towers angled in looming fashion – bore an eerie resemblance to the felled World Trade Center towers. And the songs – with titles like ‘Ashes of American Flags’ and ‘War on War,’ and lyrics about how ‘tall buildings shake, sad voices escape’ – took on a terrible new resonance.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the first Wilco release on Nonesuch Records following the band’s infamous split with Reprise (both labels are part of Warner Music Group). It was also the first release featuring the line-up of drummer Glenn Kotche and multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach joining founding members Jeff Tweedy and John Stirratt. The 2002 Sam Jones film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documented the fraught recording and mixing process, personnel changes, and label issues.

The relationship with Nonesuch would last nearly a decade and include three more studio albums – the Grammy Award-winning A ghost is born, Sky Blue Sky, and Wilco (the album) – along with a live album and a live DVD, plus reissues of earlier records, before Wilco began its own label, dBpm. The band’s current lineup of Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Glenn Kotche, Mikael Jorgensen, Patrick Sansone, and Nels Cline has been together for nearly twenty years.


DISC 5: HERE COMES EVERYBODY – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 2)
Side I: (TRAIN)
1. Radio Cure (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
2. War on War (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
3. Venus Stopped the Train (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
4. I'm the Man Who Loves You (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
5. The Good Part (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
Side J: (KETTLE)
1. Pot Kettle Black (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
2. Ashes of American Flags (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
3. Poor Places (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
4. Shakin' Sugar (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
5. Reservations (Here Comes Everybody Version) *

DISC 6: HERE COMES EVERYBODY – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 2) / THE UNIFIED THEORY OF EVERYTHING – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 3)
Side K: (ESCAPE)
1. Cars Can't Escape (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
2. A Magazine Called Sunset (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. Remember to Remember (Hummingbird) The Unified Theory of Everything Version ** #
4. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
Side L: (WAR)
1. Kamera (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
2. Radio Cure (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. War on War (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
4. Jesus, Etc. (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #

DISC 7: THE UNIFIED THEORY OF EVERYTHING – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 3) / LONELY IN THE DEEP END – DEMOS, DRAFTS, ETC.
Side M: (DRUMMER)
1. Ashes of American Flags (Stravinsky Mix) ** #
2. Heavy Metal Drummer (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. I'm The Man Who Loves You (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) **
4. Pot Kettle Black (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
5. Poor Places (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
Side N: (RESERVATIONS)
1. Reservations (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
2. Love Will (Let You Down) Lonely in the Deep End Version *
3. Lost Poem Demo (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *
4. I’m The Only One Who Lets Her Down (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *
5. Has Anybody Seen My Pencil? (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *














[l] E1. Anniversary (Nothing Up My Sleeve) [American Aquarium Version] *









[v] G2. Not for the Season (Laminated Cat) [American Aquarium Version] *


[y] H2. Not for the Season (Laminated Cat) [Here Comes Everybody Version] * #





[xe] K3. Remember to Remember (Hummingbird) [The Unified Theory of Everything Version] ** #











[xq] N2. Love Will (Let You Down) [Lonely in the Deep End Version] *

‘Complex and dangerously catchy, lyrically sophisticated and provocative, noisy and somehow serene… Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… is simply a masterpiece.’ – Pitchfork, 10/10, April 2002

‘The looped chaos and plangent melodies... effectively heralded the birth of a new band, as Jeff Tweedy overhauled his compositional modus operandi. So tender was the emotional core of songs like ‘Jesus, Etc.’ that the record became wrapped up in America’s post-9/11 cultural discourse... Yankee Hotel Foxtrot embedded Wilco’s great American songwriter status.’
– Mojo

‘It's as if the Flying Burrito Brothers suddenly decided to cover Pavement songs. There is a gentle, rootsy beauty here that Wilco has buried in a box of vulnerability and covered with a handful of dirt.’ – New York Times

‘Born out of turmoil, Wilco’s fourth album was a stone-cold classic.’ – Uncut

Nonesuch releases seven special editions of Wilco’s landmark 2002 album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The now-classic record has been remastered and will be available as part of each set. The Super Deluxe version comprises eleven vinyl LPs and one CD – including demos, drafts, and instrumentals, charting the making of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – plus a live 2002 concert recording and a September 2001 radio performance and interview. That box set includes eighty-two previously unreleased music tracks as well as a new book featuring an interview with singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeff Tweedy, drummer Glenn Kotche, and Jim O’Rourke, who mixed the acclaimed 2002 album; an in-depth essay by journalist/author Bob Mehr; and previously unseen photos of the band making the album in their Chicago studio, The Loft. For the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot recording, Wilco was Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Glenn Kotche, and Jay Bennett with Craig Christiansen, Ken Coomer, Jessy Greene, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Jim O’Rourke.

A live version of ‘Reservations’ from a legendary concert contained on Snoozin’ at The Pageant – Live 7/23/02 at The Pageant, St. Louis, MO – a recording that is part of the Super Deluxe LP and CD sets as well as the Deluxe LP and digital sets – is now available. A limited-edition vinyl 7” with versions of ‘I’m the Man Who Loves You’ and ‘War on War’, from the Super Deluxe box set, is available now from wilcostore.

Wilco marked the anniversary of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – which was released commercially on April 23, 2002, after a circuitous and storied gestation, including a period of streaming for free on the band’s website – with a performance of the album’s ‘Poor Places’ on April 18’s Late Show with Stephen Colbert, which may be seen here. The band is currently performing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in its entirety (plus a mix of concert favourites and rarities) in two limited runs at New York City’s United Palace and Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre. The Chicago show on April 23 will be available as a live stream here.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was widely acclaimed as one of 2002’s best albums, appearing in year-end lists of Mojo, NME, Q, Rolling Stone, and Uncut, among many others. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot also was featured in multiple decade-end lists, with Rolling Stone naming it #3 Album of the 2000s, as well as many Greatest Albums of All Time lists, including in the NME.

Among Yankee’s inspirations was a recording Tweedy bought at Tower Records in the late 1990s, The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations. As Bob Mehr points out in his new album note, the record got “deep under Tweedy’s skin.” Tweedy said in his 2017 memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back), “It was as fascinating to me as anything being made by actual musicians using actual instruments… I wanted to know why it was so hypnotic to me. Why could I listen to hours of this stuff, even though I had no clue what any of them were saying. That question became the foundation for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… the way people communicated or ultimately failed to communicate.” The album takes its title from a haunting recording of a woman repeating those words that is included in The Conet Project; that recording is sampled in the penultimate song on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘Poor Places’.

“Conceptually, Tweedy had decided to focus on a big idea for the next album: the state of America. His lyrics – often distilled from scribbled pages of free verse or poetry – became a form of inquiry,” Mehr continues. Tweedy said, in 2004, “I wanted to write about the stuff right in front of my eyes, microscopically looking at America and asking questions about each little thing… How can there be all these good things and things that I love about America, alongside all of these things that I’m ashamed of? And that was an internal question, too; I think I felt that way about myself.”

Mehr says, “Exploring those questions, while weaving in strands of Eastern philosophy and bits of autobiography – Yankee lyrics would be loaded with the pained imagery of someone suffering from migraines and mental health issues – Tweedy would conjure a deep examination of both country and self.”

Describing the uncanny, strangely prescient feeling of the album, which Wilco began offering as a free stream on its website in 2001, Mehr notes: “In the wake of 9/11, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot would be burdened with unintended meaning. The disc had originally been scheduled for a September 11 release. Its cover – a Sam Jones-shot image of Chicago’s twin Marina Towers angled in looming fashion – bore an eerie resemblance to the felled World Trade Center towers. And the songs – with titles like ‘Ashes of American Flags’ and ‘War on War,’ and lyrics about how ‘tall buildings shake, sad voices escape’ – took on a terrible new resonance.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the first Wilco release on Nonesuch Records following the band’s infamous split with Reprise (both labels are part of Warner Music Group). It was also the first release featuring the line-up of drummer Glenn Kotche and multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach joining founding members Jeff Tweedy and John Stirratt. The 2002 Sam Jones film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documented the fraught recording and mixing process, personnel changes, and label issues.

The relationship with Nonesuch would last nearly a decade and include three more studio albums – the Grammy Award-winning A ghost is born, Sky Blue Sky, and Wilco (the album) – along with a live album and a live DVD, plus reissues of earlier records, before Wilco began its own label, dBpm. The band’s current lineup of Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Glenn Kotche, Mikael Jorgensen, Patrick Sansone, and Nels Cline has been together for nearly twenty years.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emotional Rescue celebrates its 10th Anniversary with a repress of one of its most cherished reissues, in the first ever collection of works from Spanish song writer Javier Bergia. As a member of Finas Africae his name is finally coming to prominence, now with this selection of his music from 1985 to today, the depths of his acoustic, folk and balearic writing can be heard.

Born in Madrid to a family steeped in both classical and Spanish traditional music, Javier 's mastery of guitar, percussion, voice, poetry and composition is drawn from both this grounding and upon his lifelong musical inquisitiveness'.

Since 1980 he has been an integral part of the ancient music group 'Atrium Musicae', while in 1984 he founded, with Juan Alberto Arteche and Luis Delgado, the groundbreaking group 'Finis Africae' as a sonic investigation into a fusion of diverse ethnic musical forms incorporating both indigenous instruments and electronic elements.

As a solo artist, his career blossomed when, in 1985, he recorded his first LP, the acclaimed 'Recoletos' and with Luis Delgado he recorded the now classic album 'La Fl or De Piedra' under the name Ishinohana (ERC025).

Today Javier is active, participating in the Sephardic music groups 'Halilem' and 'Alquibla', as well as diverse alternative chamber music groups, as well as working around as composer, arranger and producer and appears regularly with Manolo HH on Radio Nacional de Espana.

The ground- breaking, unique jazz/R&B/pop group Brian Auger & The Trinity were formed from the ashes of Long John Baldry’s and Brian Auger’s previous group bandThe Steampacket, an R&B Revue collective, which also featured a then barely known Rod Stewart and Julie Driscoll.

Adding the UKs then greatest soul/pop singer Julie Driscoll to this new collective meant that not only did the band have a unique, beautiful voice and face to front the group – Driscoll also embodied everything about the 1960s fashionable It Girl; her sound, her clothes, hair styles and make up assured that nearly as many column inches were dedicated to her stylish demeanour as much as the band’s genre bending music.

The group were the one of the first too to intentionally set out to break down musical barriers – Brian himself specifically stated in the sleeve notes for 1968s ‘Definitely What!’ album that his concept “lies along a straight line drawn between pop and jazz and aims at the ‘fusion’ of both elements”. ‘Fusion’ at that time was not even a recognised musical term, reinforcing Auger’s credentials as an originator and innovator.

“Back then the jazz audiences were purists. They really looked down on rock and pop,” he explains. “I had people cross the road when they saw me coming, I was persona non grata at Ronnie Scotts because of themusic we were doing and the clothes we were wearing”.

Happily – audiences of the time didn’t take the same dismissive approach, Julie Driscoll, Brian Auger & The Trinity toured the US and had exploded onto American TV screens as guests of The Monkees, and also scored hits across Europe's pop charts via the singles ‘This Wheels On Fire’ & ‘Save Me’ – but simultaneously appeared on the UK’s ‘Top Of The Pops’ in the same month as headlining major European Jazz Festivals – a feat no other act has equalled since.

Between 1967 and ’70, Brian Auger experienced a four year run of unprecedented creativity – 1967’s Open with Julie Driscoll, 1968’s Definitely What!, 1969’s Streetnoise again with Driscoll and 1970’s Befour – taking the Hammond Organ in new directions with their thrilling fusion of club R&B, jazz and psychedelic cool, engaging both the underground and the mainstream, and bringing the group chart success in the UK and Europe. “I look back on my years with The Trinity as aperiod of discovery,” Auger concludes. “I didn’t know what would happen or where it would take me but we were breaking down barriers and going someplace new.”


King Britt “The Multi-Genre Maestro, Brian Auger is every producer and DJ’s secret weapon. A hero who deserves his flower now”

DJ Format “I have more Brian Auger records in my collection than any other British artist, which says more about my love of his music than words ever could"


FOR FANS OF:
Jimmy Smith, Aretha Franklin, The Spencer Davis
Group, Nina Simone, Georgie Fame, Traffic. Sly &
The Family Stone, Jimmy McGriff.

FATSO JETSON was formed in Palm Desert, CA, in 1994 and are often credited as one of the fathers of the desert strain of stoner rock made most famous by their slightly younger neighbours Kyuss and Queens of the Stone Age. While musically similar to some of their stoner brethren, FATSO JETSON incorporate a broader variety of musical influences that includes punk, blues, jazz and surf music. That is not to say that the band isn't capable of dishing out supremely heavy riffs... Certainly grounded in dense hard rock, FATSO JETSON experiment with many musical textures, angular instrumental epics, and bizarre lyrics to create a punk, blues art rock all their own. In 1995, the group recorded their debut "Stinky Little Gods" and followed that up in 1997 with "Power of Three" (both appeared on SST). Brant Bjork briefly joined up as second guitarist and appeared on two 7" releases. The band then teamed up with Bongload Records, who released FATSO JETSON's third full-length, "Toasted", in 1998. Guitarist and old friend Gary Arce joined the band to record their fourth LP "Flames for All" in 2000 for Artist Frank Kozik's Mans Ruin Label. FATSO JETSON also contributed to "The Desert Sessions" releases that Josh Homme organized, bringing desert musicians and other creative like-minded rock musicians together to collaborate. It was Homme's record label Rekords Rekords that released the next FATSO JETSON album in 2001 "Cruel and Delicious". For this session the band was joined by Vince Meghrouni on Sax and Harp, adding a new dimension to FATSO's hard to pin sound. The band continues with this line up in 2009. There must be something in the sand of sweltering Palm Desert, a California town that has birthed Kyuss and Queens of the Stone Age, as well as Fatso Jetson. Like Kyuss/QOTSA, Fatso Jetson built a name for themselves by putting their own unique spin on the Sabbath sound, but unlike their counterparts, larger than life singer/guitarist Mario Lalli's true love lies in both jazz (Thelonious Monk, Eric Dolphy) and experimental rock (Frank Zappa, Devo). On paper, this conglomeration of different styles sounds like the perfect recipe for a train wreck, but it somehow all comes together on disc, as evidenced by the trio's 2003 offering, Cruel & Delicious. Issued on old pal Josh Homme's label, Rekords Rekords, the trippy songs perfectly fit the feel of the album's cover (a sun-bleached photo of a long stretch of desert highway), especially such standouts as the saxophone free for all "Drinkin Mode," the melodic "Light Yourself on Fire," the bouncy instrumental "Heavenly Hearse," a barely recognizable cover of the Devo obscurity, "Ton O Luv," and the jazzoid freak-out, "Pig Hat Smokin." Cruel & Delicious is an enjoyable slice of hard rock, well off the beaten path. Originally released on CD via Josh Hommes rekords rekords label. Right in time for its 20th Originally released on CD in 2001 on Josh Hommes own Rekords Rekords-label and now on vinyl for the first time! 20th anniversary! Remastered for the vinyl release. This record is a classic and we’re happy and proud to put it out on wax! Track listing: Pleasure Bent; Drinkin’ MODE; Light Yourself On Fire; Died In California; Heavenly Hears; Ton O Luv; Pig Hat Smokin’; Superfrown; Iron Chef; Sunshine Enema; Party Pig; Stranglers Blues; Mountain Of Debt

After the 2021 Re-Release of “Schwingungen” (MG.ART612) we proudly announce “Seven Up” as Part 2 of the authorised 50th Anniversary “A.R.T.” Re-Edition Series.
“Seven Up” is the third studio album by Ash Ra Tempel and their only album recorded in collaboration with American Ph.D. in psychology, Dr. Timothy Leary. The Coverart for “Seven Up” was designed by famous Swiss Artist Walter Wegmüller. Recorded in August 1972 at Sinus Studio in Berne, Switzerland, remixed September 1972 at Dierks Studios in Stommeln, Germany. First release in spring 1973 by OHR Musik - the first release on the new sub-label "Kosmische Kuriere", Kat-Nr. KK 58001.
We release “Seven Up” in a Re-Cut carefully overseen by Manuel Göttsching himself, on September 9th 2022, also being Manuel Göttsching´s 70th Birthday. Our Edition features the full original text for the “7 levels of consciousness” by Timothy Leary in English, i.e. “Instruction Manual for Pleasure Panel” plus a previously unreleased glimpse view of the original scripts incl. notes and mark ups as well as partly unreleased photos from the recording session. ->continued on page 2->continued on page 2 As for the music itself we again refer to Julian Cope´s review and remarks from his book "Krautrocksampler” (published by Head Heritage, 1st ed. 1995):
“When the Leary Mob met the Kaiser Gang, the sparks flew ever Up-wards... 7up is a stone classic in every way. Yes, it is unlikely to find Timothy Leary singing lead vocal in a cosmic group, but even weirder that he chose to sing a wild yelping freaked out blues !
Manuel Göttsching and Hartmut Enke had begun their careers in The Steeple Chase Blues Band back in the mid-'60ies, and they quickly felt their way through what Barritt and Leary were aiming for. They reconciled it all as a kind of West Coast chordless psychedelia, where blues riffs sparkle out of nowhere and the sheer weight of synthesizers renders everything with an unreal Pere Ubu/early Roxy Music quality.
The greatness of Ash Ra Tempel burned so brightly on 7Up that there is really nothing else like it. Hartmut Enke and Manuel Gottsching here returned to their riffy roots. It can hardly be called a retro act, though, as the context of music is everything. And with Dierks at the controls, even the New Kids on the Block would have sounded psychedelic.
7Up is like a late night radio show glimpsed through a shattered tuner where all but the most truly dangerous sounds have been allowed to stay, to drift and to dance around the performers.
The result is an extreme gem, a flash of hysterical white lightning, and a pre-punk Technicolour yawn in the grandest of traditions.
In typical Ash Ra Tempel style, the record is divided into two pieces, “Space” and "Time”. Within this, though,
Timothy Leary’s ideas are allowed to free-flow and the two sides are therefore divided into mini-songs all segued together. The highlight of Side 1 is “Power Drive”, a West Coast burn-up that transcends any W.
Coast music I ever did hear. Leary and Barritt present the greatest twin-vocal of all time, coming on like Jagger and Morrison but too caught up in their own maelstrom to be anything less than Heralds of the Punkfuture still five years away.
In chaos it was conceived and in chaos it was recorded. Yet Dieter Dierks, the great Aural Architect of the Cosmic Couriers, turned 7Up into a personal triumph and a Kosmische dream.”

Ash Ra Tempel – “Seven Up”
TIMOTHY LEARY - voice
BRIAN BARRITT - voice
MICKY DUWE - voice & flute
LIZ ELLIOTT - voice
BETTINA HOHLS - voice
PORTIA NKOMO - voice
HARTMUT "HAWK" ENKE - bass, guitar & electronics
MANUEL GÖTTSCHING - guitar & electronics
STEVE A. - organ & electronics
DIETMAR BURMEISTER - drums
TOMMY ENGEL - drums
DIETER DIERKS - synthesizer & Radio Downtown

Now a 45 RPM 180-gram 2LP release!
Peter, Paul & Mary Album 1700 reissue from Analogue Productions!
Mastered by Kevin Gray at Cohearent Audio from the original analogue tape!
Gatefold old-style "tip-on" jacket by Stoughton Printing
Plated and pressed at Quality Record Pressings!

Now a 45 RPM 180-gram 2LP release! Wider grooves for better tracking, more detail, more breath and sparkle! Transport your ears completely back to the studio!

This is a phenomenal reissue of a significant album for the famed folk rock trio. Album 1700, released in 1967, yielded the group's final hit single (and only No. 1), "Leaving on a Jet Plane." It also yielded graceful folk-rock trappings for their repertoire of originals and covers by, among others, Bob Dylan and Eric Anderson, writes David Wolf.

This is the deluxe Analogue Productions treatment. An expert remastering by Kevin Gray of Cohearent Audio. A 180-gram pressing with lacquer plating by Gary Salstrom at Quality Record Pressings. Expertly recreated jacket artwork. A masterpiece.

Following the »Minna Miteru« compilation, released in 2020, Morr Music announces a sequel, dedicated to Japanese indie music, overflowing with surprises and welcome discoveries. Like its predecessor, »Minna Miteru 2« is compiled by Saya of Tenniscoats, with the support of Markus Acher (The Notwist). It’s also another part of the Minna Miteru universe, alongside retrospective albums by The Andersens (»There Is A Sound«, 2020) and yumbo (»The Fruit Of Errata«, 2021). Taken together, these albums suggest a scene in rude health, sharing a unique vibration.

If its predecessor circled around Tenniscoats and their close friends, the second volume, though featuring a collaboration between Tenniscoats and Deerhoof as oneone, reaches far further afield, drawing from music old and new, far and wide. Consistent across »Minna Miteru 2« is a sense of wonder and a cheerful unpredictability: you never quite know what you’ll hear next. There are some gorgeous indie pop songs here, like Yuko Kono’s »Ginger« or HOSE’s »Baseball«, but there are other sounds too, like Kariu Kenji’s blue-hued electro-pop, or the wheezing pipe-organ ambient of FUJI||||||||||TA: »Minna Miteru 2« hints at new kinds of beauty.

Some of the more widely known names here contribute typically gorgeous melodies – Kama Aina’s »Wedding Song«, from 2005’s »Hawaii Hawaii« CD, is a reflective tune that combines a country-ish lilt with hints of slack-key guitar. Shugo Tokumaru’s »5 A.M.« is a delirious psychedelic pop mantra, drawn from his excellent 2005 album, »L.S.T.«. Many of the revelations, though, come from artists and groups relatively unknown outside Japan. The lovely, disorienting glitch-folk of Wasurerogusa features Aki Tsuyuko, perhaps best known for her albums on Thrill Jockey and Jim O’Rourke’s Moikai label, collaborating with psych-folk legends Eddie Marcon.

There’s also the delightful synth-pop of Jonathan Conditioner; the electronic dreamscape of Chaplin, whose opening »Out Cont« runs along several parallel paths at once; the twinkling, acoustic jangle at the heart of mmm’s luscious »Blue«; and a curious collection of miniatures, from acts like tenshinkun, Daisuke Tanabe and NNMIE, that embrace a childlike curiosity, essaying a kind of toytown pop-tronica.

The twenty-six songs on »Minna Miteru 2« repeatedly catch you unawares, upending your expectations and signaling both the breadth and depth of the Japanese indie underground. It’s a compilation of play and pleasure, but also of bold experiment smuggled into the everyday through pop music’s welcoming moods, magically creating a new world for the listener, spun out of the air and woven in between your ears.

The iconic US blues-rock guitarist Walter Trout is set to release his 30th
solo album, Ride on 19 August via Provogue/Mascot Label Group.
However fast or far a man travels, he can never truly outrun his past
On his new album he found himself eyeing the horizon and the green shoots of
his triumphant late career. There was a new record deal with Mascot/Provogue. A
move from California to Denmark with his beloved family. Even now, aged 70,
Trout was still writing fresh chapters of his life story.
The last time we saw Trout stepping out, he was on the road in support of 2020's
Ordinary Madness. The campaign ended in frustration, when Covid rendered live
work too dangerous, both for this liver- transplant survivor and his fans,
condemning Trout to an enforced downtime in Denmark that he hadn't known in a
half- century. "I've been at this since '69, when I started out in the New Jersey
bars," he reflects. "Suddenly, I'm sat on my ass for sixteen months, although I did
still practice guitar every day. My wife and manager Marie knew I needed to make
music. So her present to me for my 70th birthday was a brand-new record deal
she had negotiated. My producer, Eric Corne, scoped out a new studio in LA, and
my plan was to fly home to make a new album."
The result is Ride, providing an emotional release-valve – both for its creator and
his loyal listeners – perhaps this veteran artist can reconcile with his past, accept
his future and live in the present as it unfolds. "I think you can interpret this album
title a few different ways," he concludes. "I mean, this album is definitely a
musical ride and I certainly tried to cover a lot of ground. But, really, life is kind of
a ride too, isn't it? And I want to live mine to the fullest."

The iconic US blues-rock guitarist Walter Trout is set to release his 30th
solo album, Ride on 19 August via Provogue/Mascot Label Group.
However fast or far a man travels, he can never truly outrun his past
On his new album he found himself eyeing the horizon and the green shoots of
his triumphant late career. There was a new record deal with Mascot/Provogue. A
move from California to Denmark with his beloved family. Even now, aged 70,
Trout was still writing fresh chapters of his life story.
The last time we saw Trout stepping out, he was on the road in support of 2020's
Ordinary Madness. The campaign ended in frustration, when Covid rendered live
work too dangerous, both for this liver- transplant survivor and his fans,
condemning Trout to an enforced downtime in Denmark that he hadn't known in a
half- century. "I've been at this since '69, when I started out in the New Jersey
bars," he reflects. "Suddenly, I'm sat on my ass for sixteen months, although I did
still practice guitar every day. My wife and manager Marie knew I needed to make
music. So her present to me for my 70th birthday was a brand-new record deal
she had negotiated. My producer, Eric Corne, scoped out a new studio in LA, and
my plan was to fly home to make a new album."
The result is Ride, providing an emotional release-valve – both for its creator and
his loyal listeners – perhaps this veteran artist can reconcile with his past, accept
his future and live in the present as it unfolds. "I think you can interpret this album
title a few different ways," he concludes. "I mean, this album is definitely a
musical ride and I certainly tried to cover a lot of ground. But, really, life is kind of
a ride too, isn't it? And I want to live mine to the fullest."

Highlights: Limey and the Yanks' A-side 'Love Can't Be A One Way Deal' is a garage song with a sound pitched somewhere between the Beau Brummels and the Beach Boys. 'Guaranteed Love', on the flipside, is an outstanding bluesy number with a stinging fuzz guitar, a concise harp solo and a rousing Bo Diddley-fied groove that has made its way to various compilations since the early 80s and now gets reissued for the first time on a 7" single. This release includes notes by Mike Stax (Ugly Things Magazine) Details: In California in the mid-sixties, with the British Invasion raging, having an authentic Englishman as the lead singer of your band was an ace in the hole that gave you an edge over the competition. Such was the case with Limey & the Yanks a quintet from Buena Park in Southern California's Orange County. Limey was young Steve Cook, and his Yanks by 1965 were guitarists Gregg DeLorto and Tim Gunne, bass player Bob Batman and drummer Wes Hunsinger. With his blonde Keith Relf-style hair, Steve was a striking front man who fortunately also possessed a decent voice, and with his father managing the group they were soon making waves throughout the area. A victory at a Battle of the Bands at the Hollywood Palladium put them on the map in Los Angeles, attracting the attention of producer Gary Paxton. By this time Wally Downing had joined on lead guitar, replacing Gregg DeLorto who had defected to the Spats. Paxton produced their debut single in late 1965, and it was released in January of the following year on his Starburst label. Paxton's business partner in Starburst was Lloyd Johnson, and the single's A-side was written by Lloyd's son Ken, who also recorded for Starburst with his group Ken & the Forth sic Dimension. Paxton had already produced a version of 'Love Can't Be A One Way Deal,' a couple of years earlier with the Rev-Lons, a girl group from Bakersfield, but the version by Limey & the Yanks took a completely different approach, turning it into a lovelorn garage number with a sound pitched somewhere between the Beau Brummels and the Beach Boys, with bright harmonies, mournful harmonica and a melodic twangy guitar solo. Swinging on a guitar hook based on Bobby Parker's 'Watch Your Step,' 'Guaranteed Love,' took a bluesier approach with a confident Limey vocal, stinging fuzz guitar, a concise harp solo and a rousing Bo Diddley-fied groove. The single was not a hit, but it added heft to the group's growing reputation. A second single, 'Out of Sight, Out of Mind,' was released in October, but it would be the group's last, although they did continue, through several lineup changes, into 1967. Limey's legacy lives on_