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Over the last few years upstate NY has been breeding some stone-cold killers in the rap game, and the mysterious natural-born storyteller GREA8GAWD is one of the standout names, turning people’s heads with his cold-blooded rhymes and catching the attention of many legends in the game getting co-signs from the likes of Roc Marciano and Benny The Butcher among many others. Gritty tales of street life viciously delivered over productions by Merc Betz, who curated the entire album with GREA8GAWD himself, as well as Whip Beats, Thanos Beats, Inkwelltwowords, Sypooda, Alcatracks, Agallah, Nomass, Big Skoon, and guest appearances by Hell Rell, Joey Majors and Rellion.

Human existence in digital times is accompanied by a constant noise of language, words and opinions. It"s a cacophony, it"s all too much. The more is said and written, the less is said at times. The Berlin band neànder has no words. Guitarists Jan Korbach, Michael Zolkiewicz and Patrick Zahn and drummer Flo Häuser rather speak through their instruments. This is not a cliché, but can be heard and felt on the new album "III". Everything is in motion here, one thinks of endless landscapes and unknown worlds. And by the way, if we have refrained from categorizing genres in this text so far, it is because neànder cannot be assigned to any genre in a meaningful way. Of course, this music is somehow post-rock, grunge, metal, prog, ambient and even pop - but at the same time it"s not. You might have to imagine it a bit like Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Prong, Mogwai, Black Sabbath, Faith No More and Venom would play a session together in 2024 and the result would be "III".

Mac DeMarco, formerly Makeout Videotape, is the anti-thesis to your stereotypical singer-songwriter. Disregarding the seriously somber moments, he replaces them with whimsical and youthful spontaneity, whilst retaining the endearing and subtle commentaries that exude his familiarity. Promptly after leaving his Edmonton garage for Vancouver he embarked on a North American tour accompanying fellow Canadians Japandroids on a grand voyage of enlightenment and alcoholic debauchery. DeMarco's a weird cat cultivating an affinity for occult imagery, nudity and social satire. But his most impressive trait is his undeniable and instinctual ability to compose magical pop jangles, of which he'll likely refer to as "jizz jazz". His dusted jams have garnished him accolades that are as ever-increasing as his song writing abilities; his sound rendering comparisons, but in a nomadic fashion alluding no distinct origin. DeMarco's debut solo EP entitled "Rock And Roll Night Club" will ramble into the great unknown guided by Captured Tracks, DeMarco's inner Elvis a tow.

There is NO LIGHT at the end of this tunnel! BROWN ACID: The Nineteenth Trip fires ten more savage nails deep into the coffin of ‘60s psychedelic idealism. This series is THE premier top dog journey into the rarest and most wasted early local eruptions of heavy rock, unleashed at a time when harsh reality, human nature and disillusionment drove prevailing underground rock glimpses of a ‘better’ world into ever darker selfabsorbed comedowns. Mind expanding ’60s love energies transform into toxic aggression right before your ears! The great thing is that these moves are totally justified, ‘we are all one’ is cosmically good in theory but ‘get it while you can’ ends up perhaps better advice in the light of human history. Both of those angles of awareness can coexist, some of these bands deliver unrelenting sideways positive energy but they aren’t over-thinking it, they are youthfully driven by hunger for life and satisfying the undeniable urges their DNA thrusts upon them. Sonically, the results in the BROWN ACID series never fail to breathe hot and heavy, the guitars kill it every time, the variety of approaches these tracks take keep the scenery shifting into new places. The key element that makes this stuff so potent is that THEY (the bands) are in control. Captured genuinely with no compromise, right out of the gate. No doubt they had ambition with high hopes for the future when they laid down these primal efforts, the fact that they captured their energy so vividly at a moment in time when the only direction imaginable was UP creates a hard hitting life affirming subtext to the proceedings. That is the core energy of blues and rock and roll, dealing with the struggles of existence by flipping a gigantic ‘what the fuck’ high energy bird right in the face of the moronic defective reality these bands were born into. If you take this stuff too ‘seriously’ you are utterly missing the point, it is beyond analysis, it is life itself! No amount of thinking will get you there quicker! BROWN ACID: The Nineteenth Trip is scary... the bottomless pit of deranged vintage heavy rock the series presents continually expands over time... one deadly dose too many and you might be trapped in the bad trip loop forever... enjoy it or lose your mind!

Repress! There are very few albums across any genre that stand the test of time better than 93 ‘Til Infinity, the classic debut record from the Hieroglyphics crew’s very own Souls of Mischief. In an era where Gangsta Rap and G-Funk dominated the West Coast Rap scene, Souls broke ground on a completely unique and thoroughly west coast sound. While the Dr. Dre’s and the Snoop Doggs were garnering much of the mainstream attention, Souls were quietly forging a charismatic, critically acclaimed, and cohesively shaped record that when categorized, sounded much closer to A Tribe Called Quest than N.W.A. The sound of their debut is characteristic of the distinct style explored by the collective, including a rhyme scheme based on internal rhyme and beats centered around a live bass and obscure jazz and funk samples.

93 ‘Til Infinity was propelled into success by its title track and lead single, which reached #32 on the Billboard Hot 100. It also featured singles “That’s When Ya Lost” and “Never No More” which also reached the Hot Rap Singles. In 1998, the album was selected as one of The Source’s 100 Best Rap Albums of All Time. Considered by many to be a text book “slept-on” classic Rap record, 93 ‘Til Infinity has only grown better with age. The album simply defines the Hiero golden age with a sound that would later be fine tuned with strong releases from MCs Del The Funkee Homosapien, Casual and Pep Love.

It takes some serious bravado to name your album 93 ‘Til Infinity, but certainly the goal of creating a Hip Hop “classic” must have been on the collective minds of group members A-Plus, Tajai, Opio, and Phesto when recording this landmark moment in Hip Hop history. It’s true, even seventeen years after the album’s initial release many people are still discovering it, and with this re-mastered reissue on double vinyl, fans all over the world will once again discover the brilliance that 93 ‘Til Infinity delivers and will continue to deliver beyond infinity.

Recorded at the Studio Acousti, Paris, September 23, 1965.

Original LP issue: International Polydor Production – 46.871.

This self-titled album is a testimony of the short lived-band led by New-York drummer Ron Jefferson during his stay in Paris in the mid-60s. After a first album under his name on Pacific Jazz in 1962, the founding member of The Jazz Modes and the Les McCann trio made the trip overseas.

Here, he made his living by playing with the popular pianists Errol Parker or Hazel Scott but his main drive was this trio that he formed with two other US expats, bassist Roland Haynes (the same musician who recorded an album on Black Jazz as a pianist, as confirmed by Kirk Lightsey) and guitarist Buz Saviano. After a highly successful show at ‘Palais de Chaillot’ in 1965, they were invited for a series of concerts in Dakar Sénégal. On their return, Polydor International proposed them this session. You can hear the deep impact their stay in the Motherland had on their music on the stand-out track ‘Africa the Beautiful’. On pair with the best of Yusef Lateef’s afro-eastern explorations from the time, it showcases Ron on flute and Senegalese percussion. The album release nonetheless was a commercial failure that prompted the band’s separation and Ron’s return to New-York where he performed until his passing in 2007.

Only a few copies of this record ever made it to the shops at the time and very few have had the chance to listen to it before this legit reissue remastered from the original MONO master tapes.

– Antoine Rajon –

Ron Jefferson (Drums & Flute)
Buz Saviano (Guitar)
Roland Haynes (Bass)
Jackie Robinson (Vocal on The Speaker)

Free The Robots unveils the second instalment of his tribute project to his Filipino roots.

The veteran member of L.A.'s Low End Theory collective (alongside Flying Lotus, Gaslamp Killer, Daedelus, Nosaj Thing) keeps his trademark punchy drum breaks and deep bass, but this time adds 100% samples from his archipelago (percussion, tribal voices, field recordings...).

Screen-printed sleeve

Remastered Deluxe-Format zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum des legendären Debütalbums der US-Indie-Band American Football. Die Band brillierte mit einem Slowcore-Sound zwischen Math- und Post-Rock, löste sich aber kurz danach auf, um sich mit einer Reissue dieser LP 2014 wieder zu vereinen. Im Zuge der zweiten Emo-Welle entfaltete das Album eine ungeahnte Wirkung: Für Pitchfork "beste Neuauflage" und "einflussreichstes Album des Genres", für den Rolling Stone #6 der "40 besten Emo-Alben aller Zeiten". Das neue Format ist remastert und erscheint auf silberfarbigem Doppelvinyl mit 24-seitigem Booklet und Download-Card im Gatefold-Sleeve mit neuem Artwork in Silberfolienprägung.

The "Sula Bassana" project marks the fusion of two distinct but complementary musical worlds: that of 20syl, electro-hip hop producer and DJ, and that of Christophe Panzani, versatile jazz musician. The album is an ode to contemplation, an immobile voyage embodied by the Gannet, the symbol of their creativity as they fly across styles and soundscapes.

The duo affirm their complicity with the eponymous track "Sula Bassana", where 20syl's sophisticated electro production blends with Christophe Panzani's melodious instruments. The track was accompanied on its release by a remarkable interactive video that poetically retraces the journey of a gannet.

The album also features a number of enriching collaborations. On "Dreams", they invite Yael Naim with her haunting voice and poignant harmonies. "Nuevo Mundo" invites La Chica to take us into a vibrant and eclectic atmosphere, fusing electro rhythms with Latin influences. Finally, "Playtime" features jazz pianist Eric Legnini, whose subtle chords and virtuoso improvisation infuse the album with a refined energy.

"Sula Bassana" is a space where the duo asserts itself with confidence, a rich and varied musical exploration, transcending the boundaries of genres to offer a unique and captivating sonic experience.

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has the American myth finally run its course?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has the American myth finally run its course?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has the American myth finally run its course?

Known for the monolithic force of their music and their inventive production techniques, The Body"s albums are benchmarks in the expansion and evolution of heavy music. Tightly packed with deceptively nuanced arrangements and exhilarating, challenging distortion, their compositions are possessed of an unmistakably singular sound. The Crying Out of Things is no exception; a culmination of all that The Body have done before, highlighting their mastery of dynamic and monumental music that pushes toward the unmistakable sound of oblivion The Body have produced a wealth of groundbreaking collaborations with the likes of Full of Hell, Thou, Uniform, BIG|BRAVE, OAA, and Dis Fig. The duo"s benchmark albums have, over the past 2 decades, changed the perceptions and directions of heavy music. The Crying Out of Things" embrace of noise is a comprehensive display of the multitude of expressions possible with abrasive sound, a skill that The Body have pioneered and refined. "I think for us the key to the way we use noise is, it"s not the only element," says Buford. "You"ve gotta really listen if you"re into noise. But it also has to have dynamics. Where, say, BIG|BRAVE (who have a similar ethos) expresses it in this more intellectual, minimalist way, The Body comes from an instinctual, maximalist way. We"re trying to cover it ALL." The Body stand alone in their ability to connect disparate influences and collaborators into a wholly original, potent and singular work. Alongside producer/engineer Seth Manchester, the duo"s voracious and omnivorous musical appetites have pushed the studio as an instrument into new avenues to conjure profound feelings from the music. The Crying Out of Things cements The Body"s place as a leader of heavy new music, their boundless creativity, their defining ability to convey anguish, created with a visceral clarity to devastating impact.

Known for the monolithic force of their music and their inventive production techniques, The Body"s albums are benchmarks in the expansion and evolution of heavy music. Tightly packed with deceptively nuanced arrangements and exhilarating, challenging distortion, their compositions are possessed of an unmistakably singular sound. The Crying Out of Things is no exception; a culmination of all that The Body have done before, highlighting their mastery of dynamic and monumental music that pushes toward the unmistakable sound of oblivion The Body have produced a wealth of groundbreaking collaborations with the likes of Full of Hell, Thou, Uniform, BIG|BRAVE, OAA, and Dis Fig. The duo"s benchmark albums have, over the past 2 decades, changed the perceptions and directions of heavy music. The Crying Out of Things" embrace of noise is a comprehensive display of the multitude of expressions possible with abrasive sound, a skill that The Body have pioneered and refined. "I think for us the key to the way we use noise is, it"s not the only element," says Buford. "You"ve gotta really listen if you"re into noise. But it also has to have dynamics. Where, say, BIG|BRAVE (who have a similar ethos) expresses it in this more intellectual, minimalist way, The Body comes from an instinctual, maximalist way. We"re trying to cover it ALL." The Body stand alone in their ability to connect disparate influences and collaborators into a wholly original, potent and singular work. Alongside producer/engineer Seth Manchester, the duo"s voracious and omnivorous musical appetites have pushed the studio as an instrument into new avenues to conjure profound feelings from the music. The Crying Out of Things cements The Body"s place as a leader of heavy new music, their boundless creativity, their defining ability to convey anguish, created with a visceral clarity to devastating impact.

Opaque yellow vinyl in reverse board jacket.
A full four years after Chicago organ maestro Jimmy Lacy’s legendary maiden voyage as SiP, Leos Naturals, he returns with its lush, layered, long-awaited sequel: Leos Ultras.

Conceived and recorded in a corner of a large floorplan warehouse-turned-sound lab called Homan Gardens, the album radiates a rare joy and colour, projected through a technicolor slideshow of cosmic keys, clarinet, kalimba, sax, melodica, flute, tambourine, and drumbox. The songs feel warm and weathered, like familiar garments treasured through passing seasons.

Many seasons did pass while these songs took shape, spiked with seismic changes – Lacy’s first daughter was born, followed 17 months by a second. Daily routines grew denser, but he never lost faith in the melodies simmering in the periphery of his thoughts: “I knew the music would be there whenever I had the time. It felt good to stay calm about it.” Patience paid off; Leos Ultras is indeed the ultimate SiP statement to date, rich with detail, discovery, beauty, lofted improvisation, and shades of spiritual jazz. It’s music both casual and cosmic, playful and poignant, channelled from long shadows and wordless hours in celebration of life, love, and Leo.

In the eternal city of Rome, where the whispers of cryptic ecclesiastical hierarchies still linger, FELDSPAR emerges as a musical enigma, delving into the shadows to unravel, with a certain dose of irony and creativity, the clandestine threads of power. Named after a mineral purportedly worn by a covert Roman clergy, this entity consists of six eclectic souls working tirelessly to expose the elusive puppeteers who have shaped the lives of millions of people since the beginning of time. Formed in late 2023 and based just a stone's throw from the Vatican, the Godless folk two blocks from the Pope, FELDSPAR's journey begins with the legendary Andrew Mecoli, founder of the iconic Growing Concern, Mecoli's guitar riffs echo the peculiar spirit of Italian hardcore. Joining him is Stefano Casanica, a prolific songwriter and producer, whose musical odyssey spans decades with undertakings in Undertakers, Craiving, Crude, and collaborations that transcend genres. Casanica's production magic is immortalized in Noyz Narcos cult classic 'Non dormire', a cornerstone of Italian hardcore rap with millions of streamings so far. Old City, New Ruins," the debut album of Feldspar, takes its title from Rome, the city where the band is based. It depicts the contemporary ruins of the capital, yet it's merely a pretext to expose the complexities of everyday life common to Western societies and their major cities, foremost among them.

"""Many Tribe fans consider the band’s next album, 1993’s Midnight Marauders, to be its magnum opus. But you don’t arrive at the perfect nocturnal LP without first releasing a focused work like The Low End Theory, which winnowed the colorful expanse of People’s Instinctive Travels into a seamless listen. The Low End sounds minimal in comparison and is a mostly drum’n’bass record of subtle bells and whistles. Tribe represented freedom, and some 30 years after The Low End Theory, it’s still a sonic marvel and one of the best hip-hop albums of all-time."" "

Released in December 2007, The Big Doe Rehab was a technical commercial success at the time, but it endures spiritually as an essential title in Ghostface Killah's own expansive, 13-album discography, let alone his larger body of work with other artists. While every Wu member’s solo project inevitably serves as a stage for the Clan, with The Big Doe Rehab, the spotlight never leaves Ghostface Killah in the dark, even with so many other big-name players entering and exiting — a level of artistry that could only be achieved by one of hip-hop’s top dart spitters.