Cerca:body language

Mega rare 1974 jazz funk rock album recorded by Argentina's top jazzmen Pocho Lapouble, Ricardo Lew and Adalberto Cevasco (also members of Quinteplus, Jorge Lopez Ruiz's band and Gato Barbieri's group among many others). Includes the irresistible fast-paced funk rock track 'Se Acabó el Recreo' and the ethereal 'Todo en Su Medida y Armoniosamente' and 'Haceme Shaft', featuring Patricia Clark on vocals and unexpected moog arrangements. First time reissue, with remastered sound and original artwork.

Those into world jazz will be aware of the amazing modal, big band and post-bop jazz recordings released in Argentina in the '60s. The body of work produced by the likes of Chivo Borraro, Jorge López Ruiz or Enrique Villegas would be able to rival the recordings of their American counterparts.

The following decade would see a great openness to the exploration, with a jazz language, of other musical genres, with a certain preponderance of rhythm. The members of El Trio are part of a jazz generation with a greater propensity to experiment with electricity and with what could be considered an avant la page exercise of what soon afterwards would be called jazz rock -it is music composed and played, in the faraway Buenos Aires, at the same time Miles Davis adventured into new fields, with such records as "In a Silent Way" or "Bitches´ Brew".

"Todo en su medida y armoniosamente" reflects that same spirit of experimentation and fusion of diverse influences with an eye on both rock and local folklore. It's not surprising that the protagonists of this recording -Pocho Lapouble (drums), Ricardo Lew (guitar) and Adalberto Cevasco (bass) - had accompanied Gato Barbieri himself in his project "Latinoamérica" shortly before the release of this album where the presence of rhythms from the southern hemisphere infused the avant-garde jazz of the Argentine saxophonist. Drummer Pocho Lapouble had also created Quinteplus, which in 1972 released a single studio LP inspired by those same premises of fusion jazz.
This album was originally released on the eclectic local label Music Hall in 1974 and probably distributed in tiny quantities, hence the rarity of this record and the current crazy prices in the collectors' market.

Stolen Body are super stoked to announce the addition of French Psych/World rockers Gondhawa to our ever evolving roster.

Gondhawa is a musical laboratory - a fusion between Fela Kuti’s groove and Hendrix’s electricness.
Formed in 2018 in Angers (France) by Idriss (vocals and guitar), Clément (drums) and Paul (bass), the band explores different styles with a boundless energy. Inspired by French sci-fi literature, they invented a language. Outcomes Gondhawii, a fusion of sounds from all over the world and others as yet unidentified. With this new language the whole mind immerses into a delicious trance where we cross odd rhythms, quarter-tone riffs, oriental groove and electric explosions as well as stringed instruments from other countries. (n'goni, sanxian, microtonal guitar)

Gondhawa release their first album, “Kâampäla”. Six powerful and eclectic tracks dipped in stoner, afrobeat and progressive rock. Six tracks linking convoluted rhythms and inventive riffs.

Through the micro-tonal groove of Raba Dishka, the Afrobeat Stoner power of Käampâla, or the softness of Djoliko, a beautiful ballad lulled by the melancholy of acoustic strings from around the world, Gondhawa delivers the soundtrack of an interstellar road movie. An electric tornado with an abundance of rhythms and textures.

Originally from Limerick, O’Brien’s work captures the everyday and the inbetween in a way that transcends any genre label. Writing from her own observations, O’Brien’s influences can be found in the realism of Mark E. Smith of The Fall, Patti Smith and The Slits, and the works of literary icons such Frank O’Hara, W.B. Yeats, Joan Didion and Albert Camus. Releases to date have drawn admiration from British and American outlets and radio stations as diverse as The FADER, Stereogum, The Guardian, Loud And Quiet, The Quietus, BBC Radio 1 and BBC Radio 6 Music, and more.

Speaking about the new single, O’Brien explains: “‘Most Modern Painting’ is about the creation and maintenance of ‘the self’ - the most epic task we are faced with in our lives. I wanted to work with structure in an unconventional way, linking the movements together using various voices from the narrative. The lyrics are voiced through a dialogue between the conscious and unconscious, through dream recall, memory, the individual and the ego.”

The accompanying music video for ‘Most Modern Painting’ was shot in a film-like manner on 16mm. Directed by Saskia Dixie, the movements are intrinsically linked to the lyrics; the choreography incorporates physical theatre, dance and elements of daily gestures and habits.

The chorus line on ‘Most Modern Painting’ birthed the title for the EP ‘Drowning In Blessings’ - “The more I said it, the more it meant. It’s an image which I find really cathartic; seeing the weight or build up of things as possibilities and opportunities instead of bearing their burdens. I approached the set of songs on the EP like a short album so the body of work feels full and tells a substantial story. Tracks allude and refer to one another and provide clues and hints to the future and to the past. It’s not only about language and music - it’s about energy, spaces, leaving room for other people to get in.”

A multifaceted artist, O’Brien’s writing has also been published by the esteemed London Magazine whose alumni include T.S. Eliot, Sylvia Plath and William Burroughs. Her unique fusion of spoken lyrics and art rock has piqued the attention of luminaries of both fields, seeing her perform with John Cooper Clarke and The Brian Jonestown Massacre at sold out theatres across the U.K. Playing live with her band and collaborators; Julian Hanson (guitar) and Oscar Robertson (drums), Sinead O’Brien’s transfixing performances are placing her at the forefront of a resurgent wave of independent British and Irish talent.

Summer was conceived as an entry point for Sonae to access and wrestle with difficult themes, to engage with them authentically, artfully, personally. It was also the starting point for a collaborative audio-visual project with video artist Jennifer Trees (the confronting multimedia installation that premiers in September 2021 at Stadtgarten, Cologne).

Summer articulates these ideas using the unique musical and sonic language that Sonae has been developing across previous releases. The expressive textures and tender melodics of 2015’s Far Away is Right Around the Corner; the atmospheric noise and brute unease of 2018’s I Started Wearing Black; the vicious edges of her 2019 remix-tape Music For People Who Shave Their Heads. Summer is haunted by blistered cellos and spectral string drones, the elegant and emotive movement around diatonic harmonies that echo the classicism and bucolic themes of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons (1775). Like Vivaldi, Sonae’s work is programmatic, presenting a progressive, intensifying narrative and suggesting aural phenomena of the natural world - buzzing insects, breaking rocks, waves crashing, dust and heat rising - and characterising the seasonal spirit as capricious, volatile and punishing. In these ways, Summer is related to pastoral traditions of European classicism, evoking the aura of doomed and dust-blown gothic grandiosity. It also has feet firmly planted within the lean, sound worlds of underground techno - pulsating four-on-the-floor beats with deep, vibrational sine-wave sub kicks; elegantly bleak, distorted atmospherics that straddle the uncanny space between corrosion and euphoria. The result is a visceral and poetic listening experience. Original, highly affecting, fully engaging body, mind and soul. (…)

Sonae’s music evokes imagination, provokes emotion, and disrupts and defies expectations. She explores the edges and intensities of experience, creating audible and embodied sensations that suggest the physical, atmospheric, and psychological effects of global warming on a living organism. We feel the fatigue, the slowness, sweatiness, dizziness, the sensations of uncomfortable warmth and burning; the atmospheres are hazy, dark and heavy, articulations are brutish and tactile, crunchy and sharp; there is restlessness and resignation, desolation and awe.

Summer is not a warning. It is not an explanation or an argument. It offers no answers. Summer simply holds up a mirror and asks us to experience and behold both the beauty and the brutality of our present reality. It is a work of protest, grief and hope, and it functions as a space for the listener to reckon with these truths and sensations for themselves. (Leah Kardos, London, June 2021)

Sonae (Sonia Güttler) is a German electronic producer and DJ, based in Cologne. Her acclaimed debut album was released in 2015 with Monika Enterprise (Berlin) followed on the same label with her second album in 2018 : ‘’I Started Wearing Black’’. Her Third album ‘’Music For People Who Shave Their Heads’’ has been released in 2019 with bit-phalanx (London).
Sonae plays live solo and with the label collective Monika Werkstatt at places like Institut Für Zukunft (Leipzig), Meakusma Festival (Eupen), Ausland (Berlin), Pop Kultur Festival (Berlin), Fusion Festival (Germany), Uh-Fest (Budapest), Cafe Oto (London), 23rpm Festival (London) The Cube (Bristol) and more on the same bill with Squarepusher, Plaid, Darkstar, Kyoka, Frank Bretschneider, Tim Exile.

After the exploration of snowy mountains of Alpestres, released on Hands in the Dark in 2018, French composer Matthias Puech ventures into new territories, sketching a cartography of the invisible where the journey, in chiaroscuro, is announced as a rite of passage. A Geography of Absence, as introspective as unpredictable, immerses the listener into a unique sensory whirlwind where organic matter becomes almost palpable. A researcher in theoretical computer science and an engineer at GRM, Matthias Puech constructs a dialog between synthetic music and field recording, capturing sounds that surround him and creating his own sonic language with the help of synthesizers he designs and develops; notably the Oscillator Ensemble and the Tapographic Delay, made by the American company 4ms.

Composed during a moment marked by ordeal and mourning, A Geography of Absence retraces an inner journey where the physicality of sound leads the listener into an initiatory tunnel filled with apparitions, ghosts, visions. With sound oscillations as a navigational map, we progress, step by step, through the meanders of an unknown world, dazzled by the prospect of a new synthetic horizon, an electronic biotope teeming with life and incarnations. Playing with time, space and matter in an approach similar to that of musique concrète, Matthias Puech combines ambient and noise, floating sounds and electroacoustic experimentations, thus shaking up our listening perspective, which finds itself walking through a parallel universe, strata after strata, sequence after sequence.

The trip begins with “Hollow”, as if on board a night train travelling at full speed through ghost towns. Or is it a spaceship? Removed from their original habitat, sounds – picked up during walks or moduled by synths – are free to be interpreted differently by everyone, according to the memories that shape us. Granular and metallic, this first piece takes us to an elsewhere in orbit. "Work Song" is built around the pulsation of the void, of space, where strange creatures and liquid emanations abound. We become fetus, cocoon coiled in the placenta, heart beating to the rhythm of the gooey choreography of the human body. "Chrysalis" awakens the racket that lies dormant in us, when the skin changes, when the transition takes place. One seems to recognize certain sounds stemming from nature but they could also be mirages, imitating reality to render the barely perceptible engulfing. “Tunnel Vision” brings out a herd of haunted bells, slowly swelling in a pastoral maelstrom, ending in a deafening buzz. Further on, the chirping of an animatronic bird mixes with the hooting of an owl: "A Faint Beacon" invokes a nocturnal vigil that mixes the crackling of a fire and icy gusts of wind blowing everything away. Like an epic, sucking the listener into the breach of a black hole in the center of the Milky Way, it's up to "Homeostasis" to conclude in the high spheres and contemplative vapors, where the balance of dawn announces a rebirth.

A Geography of Absence is a meticulous and sensitive piece that constructs a delicate symphony of extremes, between introspection and desire for the unknown. Accompanied by the ink work of the artist Léa Neuville, whose folds of prints sketch this imaginary atlas, Matthias Puech becomes a narrator of mental adventures. And succeeds once again in transcending reality to dig a path to the unspeakable.

Erased Tapes debut. Wait, what? How? Anyone who has seen
the trail blazing sonic pioneer live will know Nils likes to
deadpan a joke. Graz is in fact the first studio album he
recorded for the label back in 2009, that somehow remained a
secret… until now.

Nils Frahm has quietly changed the musical landscape,
reincarnating the centuries old figure of a pianist-composer for a
new generation of music fans. As Nils’ word-of-mouth popularity
grew and grew, so did the pop-culture profile of his instrument. He
founded Piano Day with a team of like-minded friends in 2015 to
help that process, some years releasing an album of piano
recordings to celebrate one of humankind’s greatest inventions.
Graz is one such record; an unheard snapshot of a young Nils
recorded at Mumuth, the University of Music and Performing Arts
Graz, in 2009 as part of the thesis Conversations for Piano and
Room produced by Thomas Geiger, which received an award in
the Classical Surround Recording category at the 127th AES
Convention in New York.
Whilst at the time it was decided to keep the grand piano
recordings from the Graz sessions locked away and instead focus
on his close mic’ed, dampened piano explorations which would
become his acclaimed studio album Felt in 2011, two of the pieces
— most notably Hammers — lived on as part of his live set, and
were expanded on and re-recorded as part of his breakthrough
2013 record Spaces (a collage of field recordings from concerts
which broke the Fourth Wall and included audience coughs). Over
his mercurial career, Nils has pushed and pulled at the boundaries
and parameters of his prolific work like that. He’s physically
changed his piano (the softened prepared strings of Felt) played
with a modified body (Screws recorded with 9 fingers and a broken
thumb) played with scale (Solo recorded on the 3.7 metre high
Klavins M370) and with the different layers of formats (last year’s
Tripping with Nils Frahm nested his studio setup inside a live
performance, concert film and live album). Now with Graz he has
found the final frontier for play: time itself and his own discography.
Graz is a moment of time at the very beginning of Nils’ quiet
revolution. The essential genius is already evident; the harmonic
language of classical, and the immediacy of jazz. Nils seems to
pull down each idea moment by moment, gently, to not scare away
the muse. He describes: “sometimes when you hear a piano, you
might think it’s a conversation between a woman and a man. At
the same time, it can hint at shapes of the universe and describe
how a black hole looks. You can make sounds that have no relation
to anything we can measure.”

Repress !

Where We're Calling From
The Liminal Zone: Reflections on Duval Timothy’s Sen Am
Lamin Fofana

Sen Am is an enduring and tender album, rich and beguiling and generous in a quiet way. Over the last few years, I find myself returning to it, listening and absorbing, reflecting on the voices and working through the multiple layers of feelings and themes it announces with confidence and equanimity. Notions of care and contradiction, expressions of joy and desire and the underlying feeling of unease and turmoil; there is an urgent appeal to the listener for generosity, to strengthen our capacity to hear multiple voices simultaneously, to exist in multiple places at once.

Duval Timothy’s music was dropped into our world from another realm sometime in the spring of 2017. We received the call and we answered it. The rhythm and spirit was transmitted via London’s NTS Radio on the Do!! You!!! Breakfast Show with Charlie Bones and a short while later we were listening to the first vinyl edition of Sen Am in our living room in Berlin. The record got a lot of plays (at home and at some shows, before and after performances). It was like sunlight filtering through a cracked window and remaining there for a moment, dancing. Blue music emanating from a liminal zone, an in-between space, somewhere on the outskirts of Freetown, or rural Sierra Leone, or the outer edges of South London, or Bath, UK, or some undisclosed orbit, unfixed location. The music is soaked in diasporic experiences. It refuses to settle but still invites us to enter and stay awhile in that zone, where multiple forms exist (all) together with jazz, hip-hop, various strands of expressive electronics and experimental music all breathing together and moving around. It is a portal to a place of possibilities, a space for building and repairing possible and lost connections. But life in that liminal zone is precarious; it is life under duress; under pressure – not merely the pressure to produce a presentable, categorizable, and salable body of work, but the pressure that compels us to experiment and create new concepts and things that will help us imagine a different existence, a way out of the turbulence.

Freetown is a marvellous and sometimes sad place. It is one of those unmistakable locations inscribed diasporic memory; a place that touches you, a place that holds you and demands you bear witness: witness to pain, poverty, joy and desire. You remember the voices and the eyes of people even in momentary encounters. In Sen Am, you hear not only Duval’s recollections and sounds of Freetown, you hear family and friendship, people coming together and forming bonds, creating surrogate families. Forging community wherever you go is a practice, and community is at the core of this music. It’s in all the voices, from Emmerson and 6pac to Aminata and Aruna. It opens up a space for Black voices, for Sierra Leonean voices, and those voices extend through the succeeding projects, the 2 Sim EP and the album Help, and all that radiates from Duval’s Carrying Colour imprint.

Thank you for the invitation to write about the album Sen Am, on the occasion of its re-release which also coincides with the release of the exquisite double 7” Smɔl Smɔl with cktrl — a wonderful piece which calls on the listener to play both records at the same time to hear the music or play them separately and hear different versions. Duval is strengthening us, encouraging us to feel comfortable with discomfort, with incompleteness, with the hard-to-understand. This is a beautiful thing.

Perila (Aleksandra Zakharenko) left her native Russia six years ago, landing in Berlin. Finding her place almost immediately - first at Berlin Community Radio and through that amongst a group of like-minded creative individuals (including her current flatmates Special Guest DJ and exael) - she started a regular practice of working on an expressionistic "sonic diary" of field recordings and electronic sound research for her own pleasure. When the opportunity arose to create her own podcast series, WET (or Weird Erotic Tension) was born. Upon hearing her evocative and atmospheric music layered with friends Nat Marcus and Inger Wold Lund's erotic spoken word poetry, Sferic Records asked to release it, and Perila - a project name originally used for her BCR show - truly came to be. Aleksandra, who was raised in St. Petersburg, has been involved in music since childhood thanks to her melomaniac father. She's been both drummer and singer in local bands in Russia, and is also the co-founder of radio.syg.ma - one of the first online stations in Russian focusing on experimental sounds - but Perila is something else entirely. You could loosely describe it as ambient, but her soundworld is so specific and transportative, filled with detail and movement, it's more akin to hauntological musique concrète, touched by song. Her fascination with voice and language - she studied English literature at university - is still evident, although that's now her voice, her texts, her crooning you can hear on the Everything Is Already There cassette (Boomkat Editions, 2020), her processed breaths on the Meta Door L cassette (Paralaxe Editions, 2020). The Wire Magazine got it right when they said about Irer Dent that, "Sensuality is presented as a secret pass to a higher consciousness." For her debut album, How Much Time it is Between You and Me?, released via Smalltown Supersound on June 11th, Aleksandra takes inspiration from the concept of time, which she felt keenly during the pandemic. Recorded primarily in September 2020 in a rural village in France - her only travel during the first year of the pandemic period - surrounded by mountains but otherwise alone with no internet, her perception of time there differed immensely. She describes the trip as, "an immersive experience into self," viewed through a "silence prism" where everyday sounds usually ignored felt amplified. While her work has always dealt in intimacy - be it the private thrills of WET or the audible closeness of our surroundings - the organic response and consistent feedback she gets for Perila made Aleksandra recognize a longing, a need for it in today's world. Intent on creating work based in honesty and tenderness, Perila's practice also explores how we feel music and emotion throughout the body and how sound can help to release it. How does the sound enter a body and travel through it? Where does movement start? How do you reach and unblock emotional clusters with the help of sound and deep listening of the body responses? Aleksandra likes to describe her music and performances as trips - thick narratives drifting along sound to get closer to self. Let Perila guide you through this journey.

It’s not easy to summarize any band whose career has stretched over two decades. In the case of Growing, though, it’s all in the name: since 2001, the core duo of Kevin Doria and Joe DeNardo have been making vibrating, explorative experimental music that is in a forever state of evolution. In that time, they have amassed a hard-to-define and influential body of work, and Diptych sees the band operating at the height of their “big amp ambient” powers.

Diptych is a masterclass in slowly undulating ambient drift, and quite possibly the definitive headphone album of the year. Guitars that sound like organs pointed at the heavens are cut with subtly damaged electronic moves, the end result being a record that is at once ecstatic, transportive and gritty.

Ambient and new age music have become part of the larger indie vocabulary. Things were different over twenty years ago in the Olympia, Washington punk community where Doria and DeNardo got their start. Both veterans of aggressive music by the time the band began, Growing emerged like a rainbow at the other end of the heavy music tunnel: loud as ever, but with a sonic and aesthetic position that ran counter to punk rock norms.

Created over the past year and a half, Diptych extrapolates on Growing’s formative drone-based work, showing a unit in full control of a language that they have built and reconfigured over time. The music here continues to be an intuitive outgrowth of a friendship that started in late-90s Olympia and still bears fruit today—even as each member lives in a different city.

Drab Majesty's first ever release was the 2012 self-released cassette tape "Unarian Dances". Originally limited to 100 copies, tracks from this tape would eventually make their way onto the Completely Careless CD collection as bonus cuts. Now, along with the "Unknown to the I" 12" also released on March 26, these songs are finally made available on vinyl in 45 RPM 12" format, bringing all early Drab Majesty material from the Careless era (2012-2015) to vinyl. Mastered by Josh Bonati with beautiful new packaging by Nathaniel Young.



Drab Majesty is the project of Deb DeMure, the androgynous alter-ego of L.A.- based musician Andrew Clinco and partner Mona D. With its combination of reverb-drenched guitars, synth bass lines, commanding vocals, and rhythmic drum machine beats, this project is a stark departure from Clinco’s previous stints as drummer in Marriages and Black Mare. Dubbed “Tragic Wave” and “Mid-Fi” by DeMure, Drab Majesty eloquently blends classic 80s New Wave and hints of early 4AD with a futuristic originality.



Atalented multi-instrumentalist, DeMure composes all of the elements of DrabMajesty. However, rather than taking personal credit for the music, DeMure insists that the inspiration for the songs is received from an other-worldly source and that Deb is merely a vessel through which outside ideas flow inward. But Drab Majesty is more than just a musical project — it’s a methodical experiment in the identity of creativity. The character Deb DeMure is an enigma that eludes all expectations of gender and ego. When DeMure’s imposing 6’ 4” figure assumes the stage, Deb’s playful, harlequin-esque appearance, tempered by an ominous body language, and clashing with the dreamy, ethereal melodies comes across as a web of contrasts. The result is a perfect balance between seemingly conflicting messages, between the high and the low, the drab and the divine.

Drab Majesty's first release for Dais Records was the "Unknown to the I" cassette in 2015, which featured the title track that would later appear on his debut album "Careless" that summer. The additional early cuts "Saturn Inc." and "Ultra Violet" have previously only been available on digital or as CD bonus tracks. Now, along with the "Unarian Dances" 12" also released on March 26, these songs are finally made available on vinyl in 45 RPM 12" format, bringing all early Drab Majesty material from the Careless era (2012-2015) to vinyl. Mastered by Josh Bonati with beautiful new packaging by Nathaniel Young.



Drab Majesty is the project of Deb DeMure, the androgynous alter-ego of L.A.-based musician Andrew Clinco and partner Mona D. With its combination of reverb-drenched guitars, synth bass lines, commanding vocals, and rhythmic drum machine beats, this project is a stark departure from Clinco’s previous stints as drummer in Marriages and Black Mare. Dubbed “Tragic Wave” and “Mid-Fi” by DeMure, Drab Majesty eloquently blends classic 80s New Wave and hints of early 4AD with a futuristic originality.



Atalented multi-instrumentalist, DeMure composes all of the elements of DrabMajesty. However, rather than taking personal credit for the music, DeMure insists that the inspiration for the songs is received from an other-worldly source and that Deb is merely a vessel through which outside ideas flow inward. But Drab Majesty is more than just a musical project — it’s a methodical experiment in the identity of creativity. The character Deb DeMure is an enigma that eludes all expectations of gender and ego. When DeMure’s imposing 6’ 4” figure assumes the stage, Deb’s playful, harlequin-esque appearance, tempered by an ominous body language, and clashing with the dreamy, ethereal melodies comes across as a web of contrasts. The result is a perfect balance between seemingly conflicting messages, between the high and the low, the drab and the divine.

Since his 2012 debut as Heathered Pearls, Jakub Alexander has constructed art — music, objects, installations, performances — as a way of re-imagining fragments of his past and mapping ideas for his future. The Polish-born, Michigan-raised, New York-based artist and producer sees imagery and narrative framework as fluid components to his craft. Alexander’s first album, Loyal, mimicked the hypnotic motions of ocean waves at night, offering melodic, loop-based ambient music as a tribute to the tasteful influence of his mother and aunt. The second Heathered Pearls album, Body Complex, found inspiration from comfort, imperfection, and visions of interior architecture, transforming Loyal’s soft textures into driving 4/4 figures, glacial tone drifts, and starry synth plateaus. His 2017 EP, Detroit, MI 1997 - 2001, reflected on a formative era through ephem- eral dance music. The third Heathered Pearls full-length,


Cast, returns to moodier loop formats joined by the distinctly new presence of the spo- ken word. The move mirrors the multitudes of its namesake: collaborators comprise a cast, healing in the bind of a cast, complex emotions and the shadows they cast. Alexander started work on Cast when living in Berlin and in Queens.

“I hit a wall listening to these tracks when they were instrumental.” This is where he diverged from previous modes, deciding to integrate speech. With a healthy distaste for aspects of performance art, he invited strictly non-scripted recordings, a series of anti-performances. This new format adds a surprising human element to music that has previously operated as sea-shapes or infrastructure. These flashes of language, Alexander’s close friends speaking about things, narratively and cerebrally, casually and profoundly, turn the distinctive Heathered Pearls sound into some- thing surprisingly gritty, tangible, and in certain sweeps, cinematic. It is as if the world outside of these compositions bleeds into the music, casting their verbal being from just off the surface, like the album’s cover artwork where the light hits the plexi object but misses the wall.

Alexander sees his covers as naturally unfinished workstations; the gauzed and patinaed copper on Cast continues in this philosophy. This is all to say Cast deals with absence as much a presence. Among the guest storytellers is Alexander’s friend and tourmate Nick Murphy (formerly Chet Faker), who unwinds a series of tender observations on “Basic Needs.” The swirling synthesizer immerses a series of empathies; feeling like an egg yolk, a window’s view, his love for the color yellow, and wanting yellow to love him back.

Philly-based indie rock band Tigers Jaw release
their new album and Hopeless debut ‘i won’t care
how you remember me’.
Described by the members’ moms as Saves The
Day meets Fleetwood Mac, Tigers Jaw have been
carving out their own legacy in the indie,
alternative and emopunk genres since 2006.
The band’s last two albums, 2014’s ‘Charmer’ and
2017’s ‘Spin’, were their most successful to date,
receiving critical acclaim from the likes of Pitchfork
and Stereogum, as well as charting at #3 in the
US vinyl charts and #11 in the current rock and
alternative album charts.
For fans of Joyce Manor, The Front Bottoms,
Turnover.

Hunt & Gather’s debut vinyl release comes by way of Pezzner’s cryptic moniker “The Native Language”. Written as a quasi-homeless man living off the rich in the San Juan Islands who writes music once per year to suffice his own delusions.

Walking the streets in these damp, anxious days that all run together lately, I was approached by a man who would blend right into the neighborhood, layered in flannel and sweatshirts for sleeping.

Rough, but for his shoes. (Never cheap out on anything that separates you from the ground.) “Pezzner,” he called out, from a safe distance. “What did the mangrove say to the marauding hordes.” My soul left my body for a moment and my voice responded on its own. “Petrichor.”

He caught my eye, nodded, left a padded envelope on the ground and vanished. The envelope had passed through many hands, slipped into the bed of a ferry-bound truck, passed from one fellow traveler to another, stashed under the counters of anarchist bookstores, left tucked between books at Little Free Libraries. The greenish stains suggested that at one point it had been swum across a lake. Another DAT, contents encoded here unabridged, and a letter from someone who called himself The Sentinel.

The Vessel lived out his days on Shaw Island, under a canopy of trees that gets smaller and smaller every season. His condition the same, any electricity lit his brain on fire, could only bring himself to compose one day a year, only at night, out of sight. Until he met The Angel, an eccentric with means, who built for him a device.

A Faraday Cage to block all electromagnetic emissions. Burlap walls, for atmosphere. A system of pulleys and levers, wood and rope, all running into a box that sat outside. An entirely mechanical control surface. No electrons in here. The Vessel lit fires, watched the shadows dance, closed his eyes and disappeared into the motion for hours at a time. The Sentinel came every morning to change the tapes. The Angel watched and pondered, his plans unknown.

The box sat sealed, bare except for another set of ideograms, scratched in day by day over time. Inside, the usual bedroom-producer shit. Outside, the ideograms told a story, passed from the Vessel to the Sentinel and drawn by the Angel, of a man who became another creature. Alert to the lowest frequencies, feeling music deep in the soil below their feet. Music that brings messages, from distant friends, warning of new creatures and the danger they brought. Skin alive to the world, so sensitive it can detect the landing of a single fly. A mind capable of keeping a map of the world inside. A mind that can look in a mirror and see a soul it knows well. A mind that can grieve.

After processing its contents, I filled the envelope with granola bars and walked it down to the market. The clerk gave me a knowing look as I placed it on the counter behind a stack of pork rinds from the previous century. As I walked out, a young man carrying a plastic bag and wearing impeccable shoes walked in.

The Body is a prolific musical force whose creativity is matched only by the astonishing weight of their sound. Duo Lee Buford and Chip King have established their own musical language that reimagines how rhythm, dynamics, and sonics can shape or dismantle song structure. Over the course of two decades, the duo has consistently challenged assumptions and defied categorization, redefining what it means to be a heavy band. On their new album, The Body are again pushing limits and testing the boundaries of the studio to explore the extremes and microtonality of distortion to find its maximal impact. I've Seen All I Need To See is The Body at their most incisively bleak, a towering monolith of noise.

The Body is a prolific musical force whose creativity is matched only by the astonishing weight of their sound. Duo Lee Buford and Chip King have established their own musical language that reimagines how rhythm, dynamics, and sonics can shape or dismantle song structure. Over the course of two decades, the duo has consistently challenged assumptions and defied categorization, redefining what it means to be a heavy band. On their new album, The Body are again pushing limits and testing the boundaries of the studio to explore the extremes and microtonality of distortion to find its maximal impact. I've Seen All I Need To See is The Body at their most incisively bleak, a towering monolith of noise.

In his essay ‘The Meaning of My Avant-Garde Hillbilly and Blues Music’, Henry Flynt talks about how his music should be analysed as an intellectual tribute to the music of the autochtone, setting aside plain folk references, but adopting academic insights to mold the music one makes as a folk creature. Much of Flynt’s discourse applies to the music of Glen Steenkiste’s Hellvete. Over the past twenty years he has been thoroughly investigating both the ethnic musical language of various regions as well as the contemporary pioneers that preceded him as a drone musician, internalizing concepts such as e.g. deep listening or just intonation. Casting off any redundant ideas or sounds, and stripping down the focus to develop singular concepts, his working method lead to pieces such as ‘Droomharmonium’, in which he shapes the endless variations on a theme, emphasizing detail and nuance rather than multitude. The Indian harmonium here serves as the main device to worship ancient ghosts and masters, and to preserve a continuum in a tradition that touches both folk and avant-garde culture. The materialisations are sustained tone compositions which become a means of appreciation of the people and cultures that paved the way for forms of mutual escapism. This might well be the core of what Hellvete’s music is about. As much as it is a form of self-entertainment – like folk music in the old days – it also invites the listener to a shared experience of sonic reverie, it is a casual gift to the community.

This is certainly true for the pieces presented on this album. They were first presented in a smoke filled and darkened art space in Ghent, Steenkiste surrounded by only a couple of candles and just enough stage light to see him erratically moving to the rhythm of the piece, occasionally twiddling the knobs of a Doepfer synth that processed the prerecorded harmonium tracks. Unlike most of his other performances this piece embraced the audience in a trance that was similar to that of an old-school rave club. Flynt writes: ‘The music should be intellectually fascinating because the listener can perceive and participate in its rhythmic and melodic intricacies, audacity of organization, etc. At the same time, the music should be kinesthetic, that is, it should encourage dancing.’ ‘Voor Harmonium’ does exactly that; it builds on the artistic ideas that have long been established in Hellvete’s oeuvre, but the ecstatic nature of these pieces merges the usual spiritual transcendence with one of determined physical bliss. It encourages both mind and body to step into the sound, to be enraptured, to celebrate.

This mini LP is an explicit message from Lustpoderosa's sonic continuum. These 7 tracks show the deep connection of Marlene Starks' work as a writer and an artist to her role as mother and DJ in times when there is an urgent need to dismantle the patriarchy in our society and rave culture.
Marlene Stark is telling us much more than a great musical story with the symbolic title "Hyäne". Marlene wants to direct our attention to a reviled creature while she reflects on its literary and symbolic meanings. Although hyenas live in a matriarchal society, its transmutation can be perceived as the ongoing struggle of the non-male body in an androcentric world view.
Marlene Starks reinterprets the figure of the hyena in a very poetic, self-ironical and honest way, as shown in the tracks 'Hungry As a Hunter', 'Hyäne' and 'Language Of Old Woman'. It's a neo-ceremonial call to rethink established structures without missing out the turbulent landscape of today's politics.
From early trip-hop to post-rave elements, Stark combines her sonic adventures with an impressively nonchalant and colloquial vocabulary. Her voice, as well as the voice of guest singer Stefanie Mader, achieves a remarkable vocal structure that goes beyond the mainstream.
This is the contemporary body music for the next generation.

The story of how Transatlantyk came to be is, in many ways, one typical of our times. We've grown accustomed to being isolated, even stranded, in recent months, and Technology has become our means of overcoming these aspects of quarantine.

For Lübeck-based producer David Hanke, a.k.a. Keno, and Los Angeles-based musician Tristan de Liège, their intercontinental relationship began long before the days of lockdowns and social distancing. The pair 'met' on-line through mutual friends back in 2018 and quickly realised they were, in a musical sense, kindred spirits. Their shared tastes meant that what started out as a single track quickly morphed into an EP, and finally the full length album that you're enjoying right now.

Tristan's experience as a neo-classical musician was the ideal foil for Hanke's skills with a sample and production expertise. Both shared a love of the more lush and cinematic end of instrumental Hip-Hop and Downtempo music. This sound partnership is evident throughout the album, but particularly on tracks like Nkosi, and the title track, where luscious string sections dance playfully with fractured, programmed beats; or the melancholic opener, Kouyou, where more laid back drums underpin muted horns and joyous harps.

The pair's perfectly formed fusion isn't the end of the story though, as French chanteuse Elodie Rama is on hand to provide not only some impeccable vocals, but also irresistible melodies to this already mellifluous long-player. Speak The Language sees this brilliant vocalist drift seamlessly between euphonious song and spoken word whilst delivering one of the ariose moments of the whole album. Elsewhere, on Dancing In The Dark, Elodie gives a slightly more sombre performance, combining with lavish strings and driving rhythms to a tee; and on To Find A Way offers up an even more emotional and almost heart-breaking performance, aided by wistful and forlorn instrumentation.

Transatlantyk is a body of work from an amalgamation of rare talents who combine beautifully to take us through myriad emotions; from the urgent and compelling Off The Mark via the pensive Forever We Were, and finally find their Way Across thanks to a shared love of graceful and refined musicality and a good song.

To this day the three have never actually met in person, but here's a last hopeful thought that one day soon, as we emerge out of the darkness, they can finally join together in a physical, as well as a musical, embrace.

Atalanta’s hotly tipped Stefan Ringer comes correct with a four-track breeze through deep, hazed out, syncopated house for Second Hand Records. Following standout releases on the likes of NDATL, People's Potential Unlimited and Argot and comparisons with the likes of Marcellus Pittman and Kyle Hall, Ringer is a talent you do not want to pass up.

Though never in doubt, 'Side Notes' sets out Ringers stall for all to see. At points MPC crunched samples lay over the top of punchy basslines and echoed ad libs, at others free flowing keys dance around layered drum loops and off kilter percussive hits.

There’s a cut here for everyone - a deft magic, versatility and spark that you need in the bag.