quête:burs

Applaus für GRAVEYARD, die mit „Lights Out“ nicht nur die Erwartungen erfüllt, sondern diese sogar noch übertroffen haben, denn auch wenn man sich für „Goliath“ als Single-Auskoppelung entschieden hat, auch jede andere Nummer hätte sich diesen Status verdient. Kurzum: Mit „Lights Out“ machen die Burschen klar, dass alle Spots auf sie gerichtet werden müssen! Zweifarbige Neuauflage!

Santana's self-titled debut album announces the arrival of a new Guitar God. Made during the legendary bandleader's most fruitful and creative period, the classic 1969 set functions as an accessible entry point into the tangy worlds of Latin music by way of an intoxicating blend of Afro-Cuban percussion, jazzy tempos, exotic leads, bluesy riffs, and psychedelic accents.

Indeed, separation between Carlos Santana's fluid fills, spicy solos, and broiling grooves and pianist Gregg Rolie's soulful Hammond organ runs allows the music to come alive with a newfound freshness and radiance. Songs simmer, with each passage bursting forth with vibrant colour. Just like the equally essential follow-up Abraxas, Santana also lays claim to one of the biggest (and unfortunate) production gaffes in music history.

For nearly four decades, copies were produced with the left and right channels reversed, meaning that everything was placed in a backwards manner. This even extended to compilations on which individual songs from Santana were included. Rest assured that, in addition to boasting reference audiophile sonics, this 180g 45RPM 2LP set gets all the specifications exactly right. And with a record of this magnitude, you want everything to be perfect.

Bound by natural chemistry and earthy spirituality, the record's innovative synthesis of myriad styles goes beyond anything that came before – as well as nearly everything that's followed. Playing with the finest band that the iconic guitarist ever had, Santana doesn't water down any exotic roots or simply incorporate mainstream Western styles into a Latin framework. This is a true hybrid, responsible for opening up borders, transcending cultural divides, and, most importantly, exhilarating the senses.

Released just weeks after the band blew minds at Woodstock, the groundbreaking record stands alongside Miles Davis' Bitches Brew and Jeff Beck's Beck-Ola as a pillar of rock fusion. Featuring the Top Ten radio smash "Evil Ways" and jam favorite "Soul Sacrifice," it hasn't aged a day. Hear like never before why Rolling Stone says Santana is #149 on its list of the Greatest Albums of All Time.

Debut vinyl by Cruz Perro Maldito, a Tenerife based trio forever imbued in the collective imagination and folklore myths of the magical and misty mountain of Agua García, located in Tacoronte district at the foot of Teide Volcano (Tenerife/Canary Islands). Their music is an explosion of free jazz improv where sophisticated sound textures emerg-ing from modular synths and processed guitar create abstract and random rhythmic patterns with complex saxophone lines guiding the ensemble from quiet to menacing passages of sudden bursts of noise and frenzy.


Entitled Truquetin Resorte, the album takes inspiration from the rich history of mechanical automata, such as Talos, the bronze giant who defended the island of Crete and was eventually defeated by Jason and his Argonauts. Or Apega de Nabis, a replica of King Nabis’ wife whom crossed unsuspecting victims with its iron spikes hidden in the device's lower arms, hands and breasts.

Or even René Descartes and his infamous daughter- like Automaton replica, an eerie creation from the renown philosopher to evoke his dead daughter
These myths and more serve as reminder of a mechanical world’s past, a world of complex automata stories with me-chanic ‘imitating’ beings as its problematic protagonists. An eerie counterpoint to our current uber modern digital world and its rapid advancing A.I.s.

For it's 46th outing, Klasse Wrecks recruits the Brooklyn based producer Gee Dee to it's ranks. Gee Dee aka Greg Droggitis turns in a wonderful and fully fledged collection of tracks that burst to the brim with atmosphere and sunny vibrations. True to the label's ethos, the music is as always, hard to pin down under one specific genre but instead slyly calls on various classic House, Electro and Acid tropes. The overall sound is one that is both universal and transcendent, feeling familiar but still surprising. 'Dream In Colour' is indeed an apt title for the EP as it spans the musical spectrum and is a lucid and vivid trip into the imagination of this new and exciting producer.

blue + red marbled vinyl
"Dog Eared"! Named as such as it marks a turning point in my productions and releases. Made while moving from Bristol back to London this as a theme pops up throughout the EP.

"Ithaca Vox" is the name of my first ever favourite preset - a CMI-inspired pad from GarageBand which I've been using since I was 11 but never on a release. The track also samples the screeching of Victoria line on my way back from nights out.

"Bubble Trouble" caused many headaches to finish hence the addition of the word "Trouble". The track pops, floats and bursts into the space between simplistic cartoon sound sources and excessively over the top sound design and production.

"Dive" dives further into these production ideas swapping tight space tiny bubbles for wide grinning resonance. The twisting track cuts these resonances leaving a large valley of missing frequencies that gets suddenly filled by an unrelentingly simple bell centring the listeners balance.

"From Window to Wall" gives a not so subtle nod to one of my favourite excessive chart hits as well as a further nod to the source of some of the track samples (see if you spot them).

"Calpohol" is the first collaboration Ive released (another reason to Dog Ear this release). Made from an afternoon of recording with Delay Grounds on his custom Eurorack the track was shaped by us over the weeks that followed.

Black Duck captures a band already deeply in tune with one another. The three-piece super-group consists of Douglas McCombs, Charles Rumback, and Bill MacKay each has a distinct musical voice that is instantly recognizable, yet blends seamlessly with one another-their time performing together, playing to the moment and reading each other and the spaces they"re in formed a fluency between the trio which allows them to follow each other down winding paths and short tangents alike. McCombs is a founding member of Tortoise, Pullman, and Brokeback and the long-standing bassist for Eleventh Dream Day, an artist whose contribution to the music world can not be overstated. MacKay began releasing records in the early 2000s. He has released several acclaimed solo albums with Drag City as well as a duo album each with Nathan Bowles (Banjo, Black Twig Pickers), and Katinka Kleijn (Cello, Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO)), and two beloved records with Ryley Walker. Rumback burst onto the fertile Chicago improvised music scene in the early 2000"s. His fluid technique and expressive playing garnered him much attention. In addition to his solo releases, Rumback has recorded with Ryley Walker, jazz greats such as Jim Baker, James Singleton, and Greg Ward. Black Duck"s debut is a testament to that fluency, an expedition led by three veterans into alluring worlds bathed in myriad splendors. Black Duck is a gallery of sonic tapestries, unbound by any genre constraints. Black Duck redefines what two guitarists and a drummer can do, pieces move from breezy shuffles to stormy blues rumbles to gorgeous textural drones. Playing entirely improvised live sets for years helped develop the trio"s acute senses for one another, knowing precisely how to listen to the others and bolster whatever direction they move in. In the short time the trio have played together, they have performed at Big Ears Festival and alongside acts like Yo La Tengo.

When I first heard Natalie Rose LeBrecht's time-suspending, air-ionizing music, more than twenty years ago, I thought "this kid is on to something." She's been proving that thought right ever since. Her recordings, from the teenage 4-track tapes she made as Greenpot Bluepot to the recent albums under her own name, have been fascinating dispatches from her progressively deeper dives into her gorgeous, weird, wildly idiomatic aesthetic. Holy Prana Open Game is a jewel of intensely personal cosmic music, created through a remarkable process of openness, craftiness, addition and subtraction. It belongs to a tradition of albums that document a rich, meditative sound as it rises up to join the world outside its creators' minds: Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness, Harmonia's Musik von Harmonia, Philip Glass's North Star, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock.

"Meditative" is specifically the idea here: Holy Prana Open Game had its origins in the fourteen days LeBrecht spent silently meditating in her home's small music room in the summer of 2019. "I came out of that bursting with the will to create new music," she says, and she created it sound-first. LeBrecht taught herself to program an analog synthesizer's timbres from scratch, and built a new set of glacial, heady compositions out of them, eventually singing to accompany the keyboard parts she was playing.

Then she closed her eyes at her computer, "let my mind be clear and open, imagined light pouring down through me, and began auto-writing to my memory of the music playing through my mind. Most of the lyrics emerged this way, and then I used my conscious mind to refine them a bit at the end." One other song came along with LeBrecht's new pieces, a cover that seems wildly unlikely from the outside and makes total sense in its context: it's a version of Atoms for Peace's "Amok" (which had been created by improvisation and editing, too), mutated into her own idiolect.

In early March of 2020, LeBrecht recorded Holy Prana Open Game's analog synth parts with Martin Bisi at his studio in Brooklyn--and then the world shut down. As you may have gathered, LeBrecht is very much a spiritual, head-in-the-stars type. She is also extremely hardcore, and if making the art she wants to make means doing things the hard way, she cracks her knuckles and gets down to it. Within weeks, she had taught herself how to record, mix and edit with a digital audio workstation. She recorded her vocal parts (sometimes multi-tracked into a radiant choir) at home, assembled a rough mix of the album, and sent it off to her collaborators.

LeBrecht spent some years studying with and assisting La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela at their legendary sound-and-light installation, the Dream House. As with their work, her singular, precisely focused vision is shored up by its openness to artistic voices beyond her own. For Holy Prana Open Game, she worked with the Australian guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White (both of Dirty Three, the Tren Brothers and innumerable other projects), as well as woodwind player David Lackner, a longtime presence on her recordings.

Turner and White have been playing together in one context or another since 1985; in the summer of 2020, they were only blocks from each other in Melbourne, Australia, whose strict lockdown meant they couldn't meet up to record together. So both of them, as well as Lackner, recorded their improvisational additions to LeBrecht's rough mixes individually, often without hearing each other's contributions. "I had asked them to play as much as they could on each track," she says, "and told them that I would edit it all down in post, so I had a lot of source material of theirs to work with."

LeBrecht arranged and edited the recordings from all four of their homes to flow together like breath across the duration of her suite. Prana, one of the album's central conceits, is in fact the Sanskrit word for breath, with the connotation of the breath of life. Like LeBrecht's music, prana flows at its own pace, and demands stillness to take in fully--but it's also subtly playful and surprising, a force that can be as light as air or as immersive as the atmosphere itself.

2023 Repress

Snoop Dogg is a legendary personality. He burst on to the scene in the early 90’s and stole the show with his appearances on Dr. Dre’s classic album, The Chronic which cemented him as a prominent figure within the halls of hip hop. Since then he has gone on to release multiple platinum albums, star in major motion pictures, and even host a TV show with the one and only, Martha Stewart! In 2017, Snoop releaed the album, Neva Left which was a call back to the style that gained him notoriety. Packed with features from the likes of Too $hort, Wiz Khalifa, K CAMP, Nef The Pharoah, Devin the Dude, KRS-One, Redman, Method Man, BADBADNOTGOOD, Kaytranada and more.

After four years, De Lichting is back with a new double album: Drie Nul Drie!

This fresh addition to the infamous compilation series revolves around a central theme: The 303 Acid Bassline.

The double LP format has always been the weapon of choice for the crew when it comes to implementing diversity in their musical story.

Despite the 303 being a rather limited concept, everyone within the collective finds a unique way to approach this classic element that has been rinsed for decades.

From the typical techno bomb of “MJM002” to the sneaky after hours tech gem “5421”, or the Detroit influenced chill-out cut “Tool”, the album bursts with playfulness and creativity, while coming together logically sound wise.

Lion Machine 23 is a four piece Rock band fronted by singer / guitarist & songwriter extraordinaire Daland based in North London, a mix between Oasis and Nirvana, who have already packed out venues across the city, as well as a recent tour of Argentina featuring a support for the Arctic Monkeys. This four song EP has been co-produced with West London’s finest, JBJ Studios Stormzy, Skrillex & more is due for release this Spring! UK dates incl festivals tbc.

2023s one to watch with true rock n roll style, prepared to get blown away by Lion Machine 23. `Liar’ kicks off with heavy grinding guitars, over which lead
singer Daland’s vocals laments the tone. Solid-driving strobe-lit bass completes the track with a rejuvenating catchy chorus when Daland belts out Liar you can’t help singing along.

Turning the noise up a notch on `The Mobile Phone’ lead singer Daland charismatically vocalises the good and bad of having technology at your fingertips. Bursting into a perspicuity of unending guitars and drums energise the track.

‘Always’ Summer festival anthem in the making, carries that feel good factor.

‘Fucking Under The Water’ Always a crowd pleaser.

Clear Vinyl

Cairo’s trip hop, illbient and club producer Hashem L Kelesh aka Dijit documents a decade of sprawling productions at his home studio, fuelled by the energies of his friends and collaborators.

Populated with the vocal presences of vocal spars Deedz, 7aleeb, and Lella, ‘The Room’ is a metaphoric synecdoche for Kelesh’s studio output between 2008-2019, featuring 9 tracks of lo-slung but levitating trip hop and illbient that overlaps his productions on the long sold-out ‘Hyperattention: Selected Digital Works Vol.1’ album, and augmented by a number of fiery percussive pieces and future folk works that give a wider frame of reference to his style.

While the album follows the smoke curl dynamic of his previous work, the glorious mesh of electro-chaabi breaks and Eno-esque ambient guitar licks on ‘Dreak’, and the heat-seeking street rave scenes of ‘Saga’ will no doubt disrupt your preconceptions, while his folk prayer-like ‘Loli’ reaffirms a knack for captivating downbeats. ‘Leban’ brings a chopped ’n screwed trip hop temporality, deploying laminar layers of male/female vocals that inevitably call to mind Tricky via Leila Arab, while ‘Hasheesh’ trades in red-seal levels of heads-down pressure shades away from Portishead or even Pessimist’s snapped productions.

Dijit smartly manages to keep it all just the right side of gloomy though, with the shatterproof tension between screwed vox and ascendant hyaline electronics on ‘Hamhama’, or likewise in the high-register piquancy and celestial chorales of ‘Dream of a bee’, while the upfront burst of drums in ‘Saga’ will bring heads to their feet.

Much anticipated debut album from this Leeds-based electronic duo, following high-profile UK festival slots, and shows alongside luminaries The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Warmduscher, Sea Power, Moonlandingz, The KVB, with multiple plays across BBC6/BBC Introducing and Amazing Radio, jellyskin are finally ready to unleash ‘In Brine’, their first full length release. The result of four years spent writing, recording, and refining the album between Leeds, Liverpool, Bristol, Palamos, and Berlin, ‘In Brine’ showcases the many talents of Will Ainsley and Zia Larty-Healy in a work straddling iridescent electronica, tungsten-tipped techno, art pop, and queasy, brown acid folk. The songs are pieced together with themes of longing, misadventure by the sea, desire and aquatic apparitions that showcase Larty-Healy’s warm but urgent vocal range, as at home around the campfire as it is in the club. The pair’s meticulous arrangement and rearrangement, sculpting, recording, and mixing was a glacially slow process of adaptation, mutation, cooperation, growth, and, yes, natural selection. First single ‘Bringer of Brine’ thumps from the speaker anthemically and forcefully, pitched somewhere beautiful and uncanny; Larty-Healy’s vocals soar and skim off the production like a smooth stone across choppy waves. The radio-ready pop electronica of ‘I Was The First Tetrapod’ bursts into the world with an urgency in line with the lyrics. An aquatic tale of crawling onto land for the first time, desperate to make new life forms, it’s also a positive, joyful rebuke to the despair of the world around us. “Growing my legs...”. The fuzzed-out psychedelic keys and forward-moving, Knife-like structure echo throughout while beautiful lyrics detail visions of where this would all lead life as we know it-“I can run freely, white horse behind me. Flexing my bones and artery twine, find human tone and reach for the vine.” ‘Fox Again’ opens with chopped alarm clocks segueing into a lurching rhythm, before exploding into skittering beats and a soaring chorus. The effect is like waking up drowsily, going over to the window in your room and yanking open the curtains to be blasted by searing sunshine. The pair brought in Berlin based co-producer, mixer and masterer Lewis D-t to help finesse the tracks into fat-free hunks of ecstasy and sonic exploration, their rich depths marking ‘In Brine’ as an album everyone should be talking about this summer and beyond-all nine tracks will have feet moving and hearts swelling in equal measure. As opening track ‘Lift (Come In)’ positively opines “Going up!/Just want to keep going up!”. It’s time to get in on the ground floor

The formidable Rex The Dog returns with his first single for Kompakt in three years, “Change This Pain For Ecstasy”, a slow-burning disco-glitter stomp that’s charged with analog energy. Pushing his self-built modular hardware set-up to its limits, “Change This Pain For Ecstasy” is taut and thrilling, stripped-back and pulsating, with sweeping chords shimmering through a classic Moroder arpeggio, as a delirious voice sings out a psychedelic raver’s plaint for liberation, pleading for you to "take away my sorrow and this pain”. Deeply emotional, it’s also a masterwork in tension and release, dizzy with snare-rush peaks, and dark, humid valleys where Rex is bound to the patchbay.

On the flipside, Rex gives us “Moto”, which tickles your ear with cymatic phenomena, its gentle vibrations building, beautifully, into a monster-piece of stealth techno. Rex’s DIY synths work overtime as he chases patterns and phases through circuitry, wielding the tones until they erupt into a spray of pointillist pizzicato. The sounds here crackle and corrode, the textures so tantalizing, so sensual, you can almost grab hold of them with your hands. It’s great to have Rex The Dog back, making livewire, yet deeply human techno, alive and bursting with electricity.

Der formidable Rex The Dog kehrt mit seiner ersten Single für Kompakt seit drei Jahren zurück, “Change This Pain For Ecstasy”, ein mit analoger Energie aufgeladener, stürmischer Disco-Glitter-Stomper. Man kann förmlich spüren, wie Rex’ selbstgebautes modulares Hardware-Setup an seine Grenzen gerät. “Change This Pain For Ecstasy” ist eine Hymne an das Nachtleben, an die kathartische Qualität einer durchtanzten Nacht. Über schwungvolle Akkorde und ein hochenergetisches Moroder-Arpeggio bittet eine delirierende Stimme um Befreiung von allem Leid und Schmerz. Das ist zutiefst rührend und emotional – da es sich hier aber um ein Meisterwerk der Spannung und Entspannung handelt – schwingt sich der Track plötzlich auf in schwindelerregende Höhen der Euphorie.

Auf der anderen Seite gibt Rex uns “Moto”, das das Ohr mit zymatischen Phänomenen kitzelt, deren sanften Vibrationen sich zu einem Monster von Stealth-Technotrack aufbauen. Rex’ DIY-Synthesizer machen Überstunden, während er Muster und Phasen durch die Schaltkreise jagt bis sie in einen Sprühregen aus pointillistischem Pizzicato ausbrechen. Die Sounds hier knistern und korrodieren, die Texturen so verlockend, so sinnlich, dass man sie fast mit den Händen greifen kann.

Es ist großartig, Rex The Dog zurück zu haben, der hochverdrahteten und doch zutiefst menschlichen Techno macht, voller Leben und Elektrizität.

Following on from the Bergisch-Brandenburgisches Quartett’s anarchic Live ’82 (BT095), Black Truffle continues its deep dive into the archives of legendary drummer/accordionist/photographer/composer/conceptual prankster Sven-Åke Johansson with Scheisse ’71. Recorded in November 1971 during the Berliner Jazztage at a heavy-hitting concert that also included the Spontaneous Music Ensemble and groups led by Peter Brötzmann, Manfred Schoof, and Masahiko Sato, Scheisse ’71 is the only document of a wild, otherwise unrecorded quintet featuring Johansson on drums, accordion and oboe d’amore, legendary free jazz vocalist Jeanne Lee, her husband Gunter Hampel on vibes, flute and bass clarinet, live electronics pioneer Michael Waisvisz on modified Putney (VCS 3) synthesizer, and the unknown Freddy Gosseye on electric bass. Part of a festival centred on giants of jazz like Duke Ellignton and Dizzy Gillespie, the radical performance shocked its audience, who can be heard heckling and yelling abuse at points, including the titular exclamation of ‘Scheiße!’ Clocking at just over half an hour and recorded in raw but detailed stereo by Johansson himself, the music burns with intensity while also making room for spacious passages and frequent dynamic movement. Beginning with Lee’s voice, Hampel on flute and Johansson on oboe d’amore in a bird-like game of call and response, the unexpected entry of Waisvisz’s tortured, squelching synth bursts prompts the first of many changes in energy and instrumentation, as Gosseye’s busy, roving bass enters and Johansson moves to the kit, his swinging cymbal work and juddering toms extending the approach of Sunny Murray or early Milford Graves. The presence of synthesizer, electric bass, and Lee’s highly amplified voice moves the quintet away from conventional free jazz textures, at times pushing into zones of abstract free sound reminiscent of what groups like MEV, AMM or Johansson’s MND were exploring in the same years. But the energy and joyful melodicism of the music keep it rooted in the tradition of American fire music and its European inheritors. Capable of changing gears in an instant from ferocious blow outs to fragile tapestries of chiming vibes and fizzing synth, the music finds space for Lee’s post-bop free scat (which integrates shrieks and howls just as a post-Ayler saxophonist might), Gosseye’s virtuosic bass runs (a rare attempt to apply the classic free jazz style of players like Alan Silva or Henry Grimes to the electric instrument), Johansson’s folkish accordion interjections, and even a sustained passage of unison bass clarinet and electric bass riffing in its second half. Special mention should be made of Waisvisz’s Putney performance, one of the earliest documents of this under-recorded instrument inventor and player, here playing a major role in giving the music its wildly exploratory, primordial air, his buzzing glissandi and bubbling filter sweeps at times howling like a distressed monkey. Arriving in an austerely stylish sleeve with beautiful black and white photographs by Johansson, Scheisse ’71 is an essential recording that adds yet another layer to our appreciation of this golden era of radical free music.

Warehouse find!

Teenage Fanclub have announced news of their tenth studio album, Endless Arcade, released 5th March. Even if we weren’t living through extraordinarily troubling times, there is nothing quite like a Teenage Fanclub album to assuage the mind, body and soul, and to reaffirm that all is not lost in this world.

Endless Arcade follows the band’s ninth album “Here”, released in 2016 to universal acclaim and notably their first Top 10 album since 1997; a mark of how much they’re treasured. The new record is quintessential TFC: melodies are equal parts heart-warming and heart-aching; guitars chime and distort; keyboard lines mesh and spiral; harmony-coated choruses burst out like sun on a stormy day.

In the 1990s, the band crafted a magnetically heavy yet harmony-rich sound on classic albums such as “Bandwagonesque” and “Grand Prix”. This century, albums such as “Shadows” and “Here” have documented a more relaxed, less ‘teenage’ Fanclub, reflecting the band’s stage in life and state of mind, which Endless Arcade slots perfectly alongside. The album walks a beautifully poised line between melancholic and uplifting, infused with simple truths. The importance of home, community and hope is entwined with more bittersweet, sometimes darker thoughts - insecurity, anxiety, loss.

Such is life. But the title track suggests, “Don’t be afraid of this endless arcade that is life.”

A preview from the album came in February 2019 with Raymond’s ‘Everything Is Falling Apart’, an online single released at the outset of a six-month tour and a highlight of Endless Arcade.

Everything is falling apart? Well, yes, but the song was written long before COVID-19 arrived. Neither was Raymond’s inspiration political or social, but more, “the entropy in the universe, the knowledge that everything eventually decays,” he explains. But Raymond says relax. Or rather, “Relax, find love, hold on to the hand of a friend”.

Fortunately, Endless Arcade was virtually finished by the time lockdown was announced, bar the odd tinker under the engine hood. It seems timely, given how everyone had to initially stay home under lockdown, that the album starts with Norman’s ‘Home’, though it was chosen in part because of its opening line: “Every morning, I open my eyes...” The album’s longest track (at seven minutes) typifies TFC’s relaxed groove, culminating in Raymond’s peach of a guitar solo.

Norman’s search for ‘home’ could be literal: after all, he’s been living in Canada for the last 10 years. But it’s also figurative. Like Norman’s other Endless Arcade songs – The Sun Won’t Shine On Me’, ‘Warm Embrace’, ‘I’m More Inclined’, ‘Back In The Day’ and ‘Living With You’ – his words on ‘Home’ are etched by loss and yearning. “Without going into too much detail, the last eighteen months have been challenging for me on an emotional level,” he admits. “But it’s been cathartic channelling some of these feelings and emotions into song.”

In contrast, Raymond’s songs – he’s also responsible for ‘Come With Me’, ‘In Our Dreams’, ‘The Future’ and ‘Silent Song’ – are philosophical and questing. As he sings in ‘The Future’: “It’s hard to walk into the future when your shoes are made of lead”, but he’s still going to try, “and see sights we’ve never seen.”

In the band’s own near future, they’re already planning another new album given they can’t yet tour the one they’re releasing now. Welcome back, Teenage Fanclub, unafraid of this endless arcade that is life.

Warehouse find!

Teenage Fanclub have announced news of their tenth studio album, Endless Arcade, released 5th March. Even if we weren’t living through extraordinarily troubling times, there is nothing quite like a Teenage Fanclub album to assuage the mind, body and soul, and to reaffirm that all is not lost in this world.

Endless Arcade follows the band’s ninth album “Here”, released in 2016 to universal acclaim and notably their first Top 10 album since 1997; a mark of how much they’re treasured. The new record is quintessential TFC: melodies are equal parts heart-warming and heart-aching; guitars chime and distort; keyboard lines mesh and spiral; harmony-coated choruses burst out like sun on a stormy day.

In the 1990s, the band crafted a magnetically heavy yet harmony-rich sound on classic albums such as “Bandwagonesque” and “Grand Prix”. This century, albums such as “Shadows” and “Here” have documented a more relaxed, less ‘teenage’ Fanclub, reflecting the band’s stage in life and state of mind, which Endless Arcade slots perfectly alongside. The album walks a beautifully poised line between melancholic and uplifting, infused with simple truths. The importance of home, community and hope is entwined with more bittersweet, sometimes darker thoughts - insecurity, anxiety, loss.

Such is life. But the title track suggests, “Don’t be afraid of this endless arcade that is life.”

A preview from the album came in February 2019 with Raymond’s ‘Everything Is Falling Apart’, an online single released at the outset of a six-month tour and a highlight of Endless Arcade.

Everything is falling apart? Well, yes, but the song was written long before COVID-19 arrived. Neither was Raymond’s inspiration political or social, but more, “the entropy in the universe, the knowledge that everything eventually decays,” he explains. But Raymond says relax. Or rather, “Relax, find love, hold on to the hand of a friend”.

Fortunately, Endless Arcade was virtually finished by the time lockdown was announced, bar the odd tinker under the engine hood. It seems timely, given how everyone had to initially stay home under lockdown, that the album starts with Norman’s ‘Home’, though it was chosen in part because of its opening line: “Every morning, I open my eyes...” The album’s longest track (at seven minutes) typifies TFC’s relaxed groove, culminating in Raymond’s peach of a guitar solo.

Norman’s search for ‘home’ could be literal: after all, he’s been living in Canada for the last 10 years. But it’s also figurative. Like Norman’s other Endless Arcade songs – The Sun Won’t Shine On Me’, ‘Warm Embrace’, ‘I’m More Inclined’, ‘Back In The Day’ and ‘Living With You’ – his words on ‘Home’ are etched by loss and yearning. “Without going into too much detail, the last eighteen months have been challenging for me on an emotional level,” he admits. “But it’s been cathartic channelling some of these feelings and emotions into song.”

In contrast, Raymond’s songs – he’s also responsible for ‘Come With Me’, ‘In Our Dreams’, ‘The Future’ and ‘Silent Song’ – are philosophical and questing. As he sings in ‘The Future’: “It’s hard to walk into the future when your shoes are made of lead”, but he’s still going to try, “and see sights we’ve never seen.”

In the band’s own near future, they’re already planning another new album given they can’t yet tour the one they’re releasing now. Welcome back, Teenage Fanclub, unafraid of this endless arcade that is life.

**BACK IN PRINT ON SINGLE LP**After three albums filled for the most part with quick song bursts and the occasional longer track, the eight-song long Bullhead found the Melvins stretching out a bit more at points, this time allowing the heavily stoned tempos plenty of time to really sprawl all over the place. There are fewer sudden shifts between fast and slow moments as well, and a lot more pure lava-flow beat-over-head feedback sludge and noise. It's not all ten mph deliberation, though - "Zodiac" shows the trio at full speed and blasting aside anything that might be so foolish as to get in its way, not to mention one unhinged Osbourne vocal lead. If grunge was achieving breakthrough status in Seattle, it was being perfected in its rawest sense on this album. Opening cut "Boris" does all this in excelsis - the band's longest recorded song at this point, nearly ten minutes long, it practically drips from the bongwater of eight million potheads, with Osbourne invoking his own brand of demons over the deep crawl of the music. Osbourne here really has got the dramatic, theatrical Ozzy Osbourne attitude down, with the occasional double-tracked vocals adding to the off-kilter intensity of the performances. Crover again shows his worth on the drums - he plays things slow most of the time but, crucially, never once sloppily - while Black keeps the bass going, however relatively unheard under Osbourne's guitar attack. "It's Shoved" is the not-so-secret highlight of Bullhead, Crover's brisker drum work and Black's sharp bass playing heralding a wild lead-guitar melody and a great ensemble performance. However, efforts like "Anaconda," with its slowly uncoiling power, and the intense "If I Had an Exorcism," which gets all the more wired and wound up as it goes (Black's bass here is some of her best), are no slouches. (All Music)

Carole King’s The Legendary Demos will be released April 24th, 2012 via Hear Music / Concord Music Group. A previously unreleased collection of 13 history-making Carole King recordings of some of her most celebrated songs, The Legendary Demos traces King's journey from her days as an Aldon staff writer in the 1960's, where she crafted hit after hit for other artists, to the dawn of her own triumphant solo career in the 1970's, and contains her original recordings of future standards like "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman," "It's Too Late," and "You've Got A Friend." Featuring liner notes by acclaimed author and Rolling Stone contributing editor David Browne, the collection brings to light a heretofore missing link in the chain of King's career. Fittingly, The Legendary Demos serves as a companion to King’s long-awaited memoir, A Natural Woman, which is being released April 10th, 2012 via Grand Central Publishing.

Aldon Music used these demos—short for “demonstration records”—to pitch King's material to other artists, from Gene Pitney and Bobby Vee to Aretha Franklin and the Monkees. While the recordings have long been coveted and collected within the industry, they have never before been released to the public.

Whether it was a potential single for the Monkees or a solo performer like Pitney, King’s demos were remarkable in their completeness. “When she sat down to the piano and played a demo of one of her songs, the whole arrangement appeared right in front of your eyes magically,” recalls Brooks Arthur, who engineered a number of these efficient sessions for King at one of several midtown Manhattan studios. “A lot of the smarter producers would adhere to Carole’s demos. If you stuck to that, you’d come home a winner.”

King and then-husband / songwriting partner Gerry Goffin signed with Aldon Music in 1959, and anyone who listened to the radio during the first half of the ‘60s will recognize the songs of teen passion and devastating heartbreak heard in King’s original recordings. “Take Good Care of My Baby” was a No. 1 hit for Bobby Vee in 1961. Goffin’s gift for tapping into teen anguish—in this case, hiding behind a stoic public face—was never conveyed better than in “Crying in the Rain,” which the Everly Brothers took into the top 10 in early 1962. “Just Once in My Life” was the Righteous Brothers’ follow-up to their still-spine-tingling “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’,” and King’s demo reveals how she and Goffin were instantly able to tap into the duo’s (and producer Phil Spector’s) dramatic, impassioned sound.

Like many of their fellow songwriters at the time, King and Goffin wrote songs for Don Kirshner’s TV show about a fictional, Beatles-derived pop band that debuted in September 1966. The Monkees turned out to be more credible singers (and musicians) than anyone initially expected, as their high-charting 1967 version of King and Goffin's “Pleasant Valley Sunday” revealed. The Monkees also cut “So Goes Love,” a dreamier ballad heard here, but the track didn’t make their first album and wasn’t released until long after they’d disbanded.

The Legendary Demos includes early takes of six tracks that formed the basis for King’s world-wide solo breakthrough Tapestry. King and lyricist Toni Stern’s ever-poignant “It’s Too Late” is here, along with King’s own “Way Over Yonder,” “Beautiful” and “Tapestry,” all three bursting with the artistic and spiritual renewal infusing King’s life during this period.

Among the collection’s numerous gems is the original 1967 demo for Goffin, King, and producer Jerry Wexler’s “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman,” a song that would later appear on Tapestry and of course be famously cut by Aretha Franklin later that same year. King’s version offers several different takes from the Franklin and Tapestry versions. Her delivery in the opening lines is looser (check out the way she stretches out “Lord” in “Lord, it made me feel so tired”), and the bridge is even more imbued with palpable romantic and sexual heat.

And finally, there’s King’s initial take on “You’ve Got a Friend,” a classic entry in the Great American Rock Songbook. Milling around in the Troubadour balcony during soundcheck, her friend James Taylor heard King perform the song on a bare stage and was immediately taken with it; his own version, a massive hit, would arrive the following year.

Jack Vegas is the sixth album by Swedish electro/post punk outfit Agent Side Grinder. It marks the band’s first exploration of American culture, drawing heavily on the beatnik-era works of Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs, as well as the proto-punk and avantgarde movements — while maintaining a contemporary storytelling perspective.

The American dream becomes a symbol for escape from a Europe ravaged by pandemics, war and financial instability. Lyrical themes revolve around boredom, resilience, government and corporate intrusion, and mental health — with the occasional glimmer of light. It’s a drum machine-driven road movie, plotting its course through the desperate heart of rural Sweden.

The name Jack Vegas’ is derived from a Swedish chain of low-stakes slot machines.

The album has been produced by former ASG member Henrik Sunbring, and recorded in Stockholm during 2022.

Genre-wise Agent Side Grinder has always existed in some kind of twilight zone. Deeply rooted in early electronic and industrial music as well as proto- and post punk, their sound is driven by iterative, suggestive beats and sudden bursts of untamed ferocity, built on equal parts dissonant samples and elegant melodies.

Like a winding system of trails and paths cutting through a digital forest-scape, M. Sage's Paradise Crick is shaped by time. Full of wonder and charm, designed patiently and from a rich, curious mulch of synthesized and acoustic sound, the versatile American artist and magic realist's new suite of music is an imaginary destination and a pastoral fantasy that envisions the natural and fabricated worlds as one. Matthew Sage is a musician, intermedia artist, recording engineer and producer, publisher, teacher, partner, and parent. Assembling a sprawling and idiosyncratic catalog of experimental studio music between Colorado and Chicago since the early 2010s, recent highlights include The Wind of Things (Geographic North, 2021), an ensemble-recorded expression of bow-splashed nostalgia, and the four seasonal albums of Fuubutsushi, the improvisatory ambient jazz quartet he formed with friends from afar in 2020. Sage renders projects with nuanced velocity and a completist sensibility _ when it's finished, it's done _ which is what makes Paradise Crick, his debut for RVNG Intl., a compelling outlier. Sage first staked his tent in Crick's conceptual campground five years ago from his home studio in Chicago (he's since returned to Colorado, home to the mountains and prairies often personified in his work). He had just read Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America, a kaleidoscopic reflection of pastoral America's shifting identity by way of magical fishing sojourns. Inspired by that feeling, of getting lost but finding oneself in through the outdoors, he amassed over seventy demos documenting a fictional soundtrack for camping. Pull up to this park, and the sign might read, "Welcome to Paradise Crick. Fire Danger Is Low." The sequence, pruned down to thirteen tracks, courses the dewy mornings, afternoon hikes, and firelit nights of a weekend expedition. While Sage is not a filmmaker, he views the method of making this album as a similar form of world-building via structure, narrative, formal elements, and editorial refinement. Contrasted with his collaborative craft, here he is a sole auteur reclined in total autonomy, able to improvise scenes and implement special effects at will. A parallel precedent for such unchecked imagination in the M. Sage canon is A Singular Continent, his 2014 album that tilted its compass to a faraway land. Where Continent built its world layering samples as composition, Paradise Crick deploys a balance of accessible song structures with experimental instrumentation and sound design. Speckled with harmonica, autoharp, chimes, penny whistle, voice, hand percussion, and other mysteries, Crick's texture is treated as a sensorial adventure; the swamps gurgle, the lakes glisten, and the valleys breathe in robust HD. The rhythms are loose and buoyant, bursting with a few `kick and snare' moments shaped by Sage's lifelong love for drumming and headphone prone electronic music. Crick bumps more than most anything he's done before; crackling static pulses and lush vibrations reveal an intrinsic groove, a hidden beat map. In the landscapes of Paradise Crick, science and magic co-exist, 5k boulders and midi frogs share the frame with real-life memories of Midwest camping trips and the desire to feel extra human in a digitized space. Sage strived for "nature in the holodeck" but couldn't help leaving fingerprints in the simulation, and it's these traces of spirit and character that give Paradise Crick its strange allure. The album's bubbling sense of play, melody, and timbre takes cues from left-field electronic lineage; synth pioneers like Tomita and Raymond Scott up through the more expressive pop tendencies of Woo, Stereolab and the Cocteau Twins, and into contemporary composers like Sam Prekop. The album's vocabulary is uncomplicated; the gestures are sweet and inviting, intended to lull the listener. As much as Sage continues to be an experimentalist by nature in his work, with Paradise Crick, he spins a narrative. Not necessarily a concept album, but rather an invitation to take off for a weekend. That's the modus operandi down here in the Crick, we stretch out. M. Sage's Paradise Crick will be released May 26, 2023 in LP, CD, and digital editions. A portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Earthjustice, the premier nonprofit public interest environmental law organization.