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For fans of The Stray Cats, Brian Setzer, Swing and Big Band! The Brian Setzer Orchestra (sometimes known by its initials BSO) is a swing and jump blues band formed in 1992 by Stray Cats frontman Brian Setzer. In 1994 they released their debut album which was followed up in 1996 with Guitar Slinger. In 1998, for their breakout album The Dirty Boogie, the group covered Louis Prima's "Jump, Jive an' Wail", which originally appeared on Prima's 1957 album The Wildest!. The BSO's follow up single, appearing on the album Vavoom!, was "Gettin' in the Mood." Now get Guitar Slinger from the Brian Setzer Orchestra for the first time on vinyl since 1996. Remastered on 180g vinyl in an amazing limited- edition color. There are only 700 of the Silver Melt. Guitar Slinger is the second release from the Brian Setzer Orchestra and where the band really started to come together. The album leads off with "The House Is Rockin’” and features the Brian Setzer/Joe Strummer (The Clash) penned tracks “Ghost Radio” and “Sammy Davis City”. There are 12 tracks in all, and it clocks in at just over 43 minutes. This is the first in a series of three reissues coming from Deko Entertainment with The Dirty Boogie scheduled to also hit by the end of 2024, with Vavoom! to follow in early 2025

Dive into the soul-stirring depths of Snowgoose's latest album, "Descendant."
"Descendant" is crafted with their exquisite blend of folk and psych. Featuring the guitar of Raymond McGinley (Teenage Fanclub) the keys of Chris Geddes (Belle and Sebastian), the bass of Stevie Jones (Arab Strap), the pedal steel of Tim Davidson (Tracyanne & Danny), and the drums of Stuart Kidd (BMX Bandits) and Adam Stearns (Trembling Bells), this album is a testament to the collaborative spirit of Scottish indie royalty.
Following their acclaimed psych folk albums "Harmony Springs" and "The Making of You," Snowgoose continues to enchant with narratives of love, loss and the ephemeral beauty of life.
Praised for their "spellbinding" sound (Uncut Magazine) and vocals that evoke "the spirit of Sandy Denny" (The Scotsman),

In the age of streaming platforms and social media, stimulation is easy to come by. Real pleasure, however_the kind that feeds our soul rather than draining it_is in shockingly short supply. The second LP by THUS LOVE is full of that kind of nourishing euphoria. It swoons, shakes, and swaggers with a combination of grit and sensuality that's been hard to locate in music lately. It's called, fittingly, All Pleasure. The album came out of a period of dizzying growth and transformation for the group. When they began work on it, vocalist/guitarist Echo Mars and drummer Lu Racine were still reeling from the runaway success of their 2022 debut Memorial_a set of lush, elegant post-punk that brought praise from The FADER, the NME, and the Guardian_along with processing the departure of the founding bassist. With All Pleasure, the band re-formed with new bassist Ally Juleen and guitarist/keyboardist Shane Blank. The group convened in a barn in the woods that Mars had transformed into a recording studio, and kept one rule at the forefront: "If it's not joyful, don't do it." What emerged from that mission is a stunningly gorgeous album, full of big, arcing melodies and a range of kinky stylistic twists that will surprise listeners who know the group just for Memorial's chorus-drenched 80s-style psychedelia. "Birthday Song" gives grungy glam rock with a transcendent hook that underlines Echo's lyrical tribute to communal joy. "Get Stable" transmutes existential panic into sharp-angled punk pop. The anthemic title track is something like the album's mission statement, paying tribute to the power of joyful creation. Mixed by Matthew Hall and Rich Costey and mastered by Bob Weston, All Pleasure was recorded as live as possible, capturing the sheer infectious ecstasy that comes from sharing space together and making a divine racket. Put on All Pleasure, tap into the energy that THUS LOVE is putting out, and you just might find an escape.

5 Jahre seit Veröffentlichung ihres 7. Albums "Where The Light Ends" sind nun vergangen und das Warten hat endlich ein Ende. KEITZER sind zurück mit neuem Album, unter dem schmissigen Namen "Pandemonium Humanitas". Die Band nutzte die Zeit und komponierte 9 neue Songs, die den bisherigen Höhepunkt ihres musikalischen Schaffens darstellen. Keitzer präsentieren, einzigartige, ultrafette, rasende Gitarrenriffs, pure wütende Energie - simply eigenständiger und eingängiger Death Metal versetzt mit Elementen aus dem Black Metal.
"Pandemonium Humanitas" ein musikalischer Wutausbruch par excellence und wurde, wie auch schon das Vorgängeralbum, im Soundlodge Studio unter der Leitung von Jörg Uken, aufgenommen, gemixt und gemastert. Das Albumartwork stammt vom italienischen Maler Paolo Girardi.

Trust Fund, hinter dem der britische Singer/Songwriter Ellis Jones steht, kehrt mit einer neuen LP zurück. Das fünfte Album "Has It Been A While?" wurde Anfang des Jahres in Sheffield gemeinsam mit dem Produzenten und engen Freund Joe Mackenzie Todd aufgenommen. Fans von Jones" feinfühligem, geistreichem und nahbarem Songwriting mussten sich für eine ganze Weile gedulden. Sein letztes Album ist vor sechs Jahren erschienen: "Bringing the Backline" erhielt Lob u. a. von Pitchfork, Rolling Stone und The Guardian, doch Trust Fund wurde direkt im Anschluss auf Eis gelegt, da einige Bandmitglieder Familien gründeten und Jones nach Norwegen (und dann nach Kanada) zog, um eine akademische Karriere zu verfolgen. Oder wie er selbst sagt: "Ich wurde 30, zog weg und dachte, dass ich das jetzt wohl bleiben lasse". Erfreulicherweise konnte er es nicht bleiben lassen Die Einsicht, dass es mit dem Musikmachen doch noch nicht vorbei sei kam einher mit der Entwicklung eines gereiften Stils. Während bei frühen Trust-Fund-Alben eine diffuse Indie-Rock-Ästhetik im Vordergrund stand, reduziert Jones seine Songs auf "Has It Been A While?" auf klassische Gitarre und Gesang, unterstützt von ergreifenden Streichquartett-Arrangements von Maria Grig. Geblieben ist die lyrische Finesse von Trust Fund, die sich hier besonders in Tracks wie "The Mirror" (ein Duett mit Celia MacDougall von Radiant Heart) zeigt, in dem der prahlerische Protagonist allzu gern den Spiegel als TV nutzen würde.

In Zusammenarbeit mit Künstlern wie Saul Williams, Mndsgn und Co-Produzent Omari Jazz entstanden, dokumentiert 'Take Off from Mercy' - das neue Album des in Charleston, South Carolina, lebenden Musikers Contour (sein erstes für Label Mexican Summer) - eine Reise durch Vergangenheit und Gegenwart, Tag und Nacht, Verleugnung und gelassene Akzeptanz. Contour (mit bürgerlichem Namen Khari Lucas) stellt sich 'Take Off from Mercy' als ein Epos vor, das in der Dunkelheit der Nacht spielt und in einer diffusen Auflösung endet.

Contours Werk zeugt von einer rastlosen Neugier, die in 'Take Off from Mercy' ihren Höhepunkt findet. Lucas begann als Beatmaker, aber seine Vision hat sich mit Veröffentlichungen wie Onwards!, Love Suite und Weight erweitert und reicht von Sample-getriebenem Soul bis hin zu Coverversionen von Strawberry Switchblade. Auf 'Take Off from Mercy' verzichtet Lucas auf Samples und setzt stattdessen auf gitarrenbetontes Songwriting - ein Schritt, der ihn sofort in eine metaphysische Konversation mit einer langen Reihe von Südstaaten-Songwritern bringt.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Anadol and Marie Klock have teamed up for a joint album, La Grande Accumulation. They met two years ago at a festival in England crowded with violent seagulls and outsider musicians. Klock being prone to barking on stage and Anadol not laughing at jokes she doesn’t find funny, they straight away had the intuition that they would meet again. And so they did, a few months later, at Anadol’s studio in Istanbul.

Today, the two Pingipung artists present the fruit of this musical friendship. La Grande Accumulation was born out of the peculiar atmosphere of the studio neighbourhood in Büyükada, an island where thousands of cats run free and humans randomly destroy things during apocalyptic times when parts of Turkey had just been turned into dust by terrible earthquakes. The French lyrics are inspired by hours of conversations, the music is consequently drenched in absurdity, overflowing with a strong urge to live and enjoy. According to the LP sticker, this album has been certified “Best handshake of 2024”, and stickers never lie.

La Grande Accumulation brings together Marie Klock's mysterious metaphors and Anadol's intriguing radiophonic psych-pop. Stretching forms beyond common sense to see how long they can resist is probably their favourite game. The result are six highly imaginative tracks that challenge the sub-3-minutes standards of Spotify pop.

Gözen Atila aka Anadol is well known to the Pingipung audience, with three solo LPs on the label. Her music follows a kind of collage logic, she interweaves countless styles, combining field and studio recordings with obscure quotation marks here and there. "I hope no one will come and explain this music to me, because it's the most beautiful music there is", says Kristoffer Cornils about her solo album Felicita.

Marie Klock is a French writer and musician who produces songs oscillating between synthpop and neo-folk, full of anarchic humour and existential dread. Her recent solo LP on Pingipung was a captivating tribute to the recently deceased poet Damien Schultz entitled Damien est vivant.

Marie Klock delivers her lyrics in song or spoken word, stream-of-consciousness musings on strange human adventures, and her rich keyboard melodies culminate in a nonchalant dialogue with the bass trombone (La Reine des Bordels). In the opulent opening piece (La Grande Accumulation), a woman is cursed to take home everything she kicks in the street; a bit later, we stumble upon a ghoul hiding in the gutter (Sirop amer), Mona Lisa loses her teeth (Sonate au Jambon) and a warthog struggles to climb the stairs of a silver tower (Sabots triviaux).

La Grande Accumulation was mixed and mastered by Jonas Romann at Chaos Compressor Club in Hamburg and cut to vinyl by Kassian Troyer at D&M in Berlin. It's an audiophile LP that invites to focus on every detail in this heap of musical ideas.

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Collapsing new rhythms and industrial visions meet restless melodic vocals on Gateway, the debut album from San Francisco duo YANTRA on Swiss label Subject To Restrictions Discs. This isn’t dance music, but you will dance to it. It isn’t ritual music, but it will channel spirits.

The dreamer is still asleep. She awakens to heed the call. Curious downtempo drums, spartan and potent, animate the body. Running through the city, shadows dance on walls, and alluring voices, whispered, sung, and soaring, possess the mind. At the end of the path, gazing at the mirror’s edge, she finds the source of the voice—and realizes it’s her own.

YANTRA are artist-producer Yaniv de Ridder, also known by the alias YNV, and lyricist-vocalist-instrumentalist Janina Angel Bath. The pair have worked together for some time, beginning with YNV’s 2021 LP Golden Hour Ritual. On Western Paradox, a YNV EP released last year on Subject To Restrictions Discs, Bath contributed vocals—and so YANTRA, the project and the concept, was born. Working together, the pair craft new forms of transcendent sound, timeless and familiar all at once

Back in stock! As hip-hop’s online footprint began rapidly expanding in the early 2010s, acclaimed Los Angeles emcee Blu was a rising star who commanded attention. Just a few years removed from the breakthrough success of Below The Heavens and an appearance on the XXL Freshmen list, the talented wordsmith was navigating the major label system, dropping self-produced mixtapes, and working with artists like The Roots, Miguel, Flying Lotus, 9th Wonder, and more. In 2011, the mysterious album Jesus turned up on Bandcamp, uploaded by an artist calling himself “b.” Soon discovered to be the latest project from Blu, the unpolished but deeply soulful collection quickly made waves on blogs and social media. Just weeks later, Jesus improbably became one of Blu’s first official solo releases, and it remains a lo-fi masterpiece, with mesmerizing production by Alchemist, Madlib, Knxwledge, Hezekiah, and Blu himself. Now, this classic is receiving a long-overdue vinyl reissue, complete with the Jesus-era bonus track “Arrow & The Sparrow” featuring Jimetta Rose.

Finally back on vinyl, this 2011 release was the first proper full-length showcase for the Grammy Award-winning superproducer. The signature soulful style of 9th’s beats was a sensation in hip hop and R&B--for underground fans and in the mainstream--and he played a leading role in bringing North Carolina to the forefront of American music culture in the 21st century.

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.

Matthew Herbert setzt seine Soundtrack-Produktionsreihe mit der Musik für den britischen Horrorfilm "Starve Acre" des Regisseurs Daniel Kokotajlo mit Matt Smith und Morfydd Clark in den Hauptrollen fort, der im September 2024 erscheinen soll - eine düstere Untersuchung von Trauer, Glauben und Übernatürlichem, die stark auf Folklore und Mythologie zurückgreift. Der OST folgt auf Arbeiten für Independentfilme wie "The Wonder", "The Cave" oder den Oscar-nominierten "A Fantastic Woman" und ist eine minimalistische Übung in Spannung und Zerbrechlichkeit, die geduldige Instrumentierungsfäden mit atmosphärischem Sounddesign verbindet – romantische Wogen der Orchestrierung gegen drohenden Druck im unteren Frequenzbereich und körperlose, unnatürliche Stimmen, die die bösartigen Kräfte darstellen, die im gesamten Film angedeutet werden. Er enthält zusätzlich zwei Versionen von "Let Me In", einer Interpretation des englischen Volksliedes "It Hails, It Rains, It Snows, It Blows" aus dem frühen 20. Jahrhundert, gesungen von Matt Smith und gespielt vom Folk-Elektronica-Duo Crewdson & Cevanne (Hugh Jones & Cevanne Horrocks-Hopayian) - ein bezauberndes Finale für die allgegenwärtige Düsterkeit der weiteren Partitur.

Available for the first time on vinyl! Sean Price aka Sean “Grinch” originally dropped this single and video in the holiday spirit in December 2012. “How Sean P! Stole Christmas” features Brownsville’s finest wreaking havoc on Christmas in the only way he can, and -- spoiler alert -- swiping gifts from under the tree is hardly the worst offense. Produced by Khrysis, this 7” single features dirty, clean, and instrumental versions, and is pressed on limited edition Neon Green Vinyl.

"Five years since her debut album Delivery, Mikaela Davis has moved away from her hometown of Rochester, shared the stage with the likes of Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Christian McBride, Bon Iver, Lake Street Dive and Circles Around the Sun and entered a new decade. But it’s the ever-evolving relationships between her closest friends and bandmates that has propelled the Hudson Valley-based artist onto her latest album And Southern Star––a truly collaborative effort that ruminates on the choices we make, and the people we always come back to.

The band, made up of Davis (harp/vocals), Alex Coté (drums), Cian McCarthy (guitars/vocals), Shane McCarthy (bass/vocals) and Kurt Johnson (steel guitar), have been playing together for over a decade and it’s the first time they’ve appeared on a full length record together. Weaving 60s pop-soaked melodies, psychedelia and driving folk rock, And Southern Star picks apart the reflection we used to recognise, while trying to build a new one. It navigates the periphery of past selves, the coexistence of isolation and excitement in a new environment and the tension of growing away from what we thought we wanted, tackling it with a luscious, kaleidoscopic grace. “I finally feel like this album is more me than anything else that’s been released,” Davis says, adding that producing the album along with her four bandmates allowed them to carve out their own ideas, rather than someone else’s. It’s the band’s collective step into adulthood that has informed much of And Southern Star’s thematic landscape."

SYML—Welsh for “simple”—makes music that taps into the instincts that drive us to places of sanctuary, whether that be a place or a person. Born and raised in Seattle, Brian Fennell studied piano and became a self-taught producer, programmer, and guitarist. This May marked the fifth anniversary of his self-titled debut album, which included the platinum-selling song “Where’s My Love” and the Gold Record fan favorite, “Girl,” and one year since his sophomore album, The Day My Father Died, which was recorded and produced with fellow Seattle-native Phil Ek (Band of Horses, Father John Misty, Fleet Foxes) and features Elbow’s Guy Garvey, Lucius, Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek, and Charlotte Lawrence. In the last year, he was also featured on Lana Del Rey’s song, “Paris, TX,” from her Grammy-nominated album Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, and realized several other notable collaborations including UK-electronic artist George Fitzgerald, Latin Grammy-nominated Colombian artist Elsa Y Elmar. In February 2024, he launched his imprint, FIN. Recordings, a new venture in collaboration with his label, Nettwerk Music Group, and management team, Good Harbor Music. Says Fennell about Infinity, “Sometimes, songs are wandering souls with no home, and it’s not until enough of them are written that the home is realized. I have a proud obsession with all things apocalyptic and the doom and wonder of an ever-expanding universe. This group of songs is an ode to the absurdity of human existence and my fondness for it. My inspirations were very cinematic ranging from big blaring soundscapes to more gentle, dusty settings like Ennio Morricone was so gifted in painting. I am fascinated by what humans are capable of, especially the stories we tell ourselves to explain our world and the space around it. Importantly, I am thankful for the creative space to make art without rules or expectation.

based songwriter Henrik Appel returns with third album Shadows. Ranging from freewheeling garage rock to intimate moments, and adding touches of jazz, Shadows is inspired by the likes of Bob Dylan’s Blond on Blonde and The Fall’s Hex Enduction Hour and another step of his continued evolution as a songwriter and artist.

For as long as he’s been a solo artist, Henrik Appel has been in a constant state of evolution. His first album, 2018’s Burning Bodies, was a meticulous construction project, one that came togeth-er over a five-year period and that saw him chronicle, with searing honesty, the slow death of a relationship, with its nine songs written according to a stringent set of self-imposed rules, intend-ed to keep the songwriting minimalist and bare-bones in nature.

His 2021 follow-up, Humanity, represented a remarkable progression of its own. It was born out of a break-up of a different kind, this time with his former bandmates in Stockholm outfit Lion’s Den; piecing together aspects of the vision he’d had in mind for the band’s never-realised second al-bum, he built from them his own sophomore LP, one that took the classic feel of Burning Bodies and imbued it with adventurous new influences, as he began to carve out a genuinely singular sound.

Now, three years on from Humanity, Appel has made another ambitious left turn. Neither of his first two albums were made in complete isolation; on both, he enlisted the production services of Stockholm underground legend Martin ‘Konie’ Ehrencrona, and also collaborated on his lyrics with his partner, Emma Lind. Now, on this thrilling reinvention of a third record, Appel has turned away from perfectionism, placing chief importance instead on making a raw, human record.

"In a world where there are no more heroes, the Fleshtones walk the earth like Roman gods. Since their inception in 1976 in Queens, New York, and their sweaty, boozy gestation at legendary venues such as CBGB, Max’s Kansas City, and the storied Club 57— recently feted at the Museum of Modern Art, where their proto-video underground film “Soul City” was unspooled for art stars, glitterati, and a raft of punk rockers who managed to get past the front gate — they have perpetrated their proprietary brand of SUPER ROCK, a frenetic amalgam of garage punk and soul, punctuated by the big beat and unleashed with the spectacular show business majesty which has kept them on the road for over forty years, adored by audiences whose love for them borders on religious fervor.

It’s Getting Late (…and More Songs About Werewolves) is a smash that could have dropped at any point in their epic career — it is an outburst, and a celebration of the SUPER ROCK sound. Unlike their contemporaries, they have not dialed down the tempos to compensate for osteoporosis, they have not lost anything on their fastball, and continue to throw it for strikes. The hardest working band in garage rock has never sounded better, and now you see why they've been your favorite band's favorite band for decades."