Buscar:central up down

Help020 is the second of two new 8-track albums by Central.

Following their 2023 LP Presents, Nathan Nelson's American Cream Band bring the Twin City heat back to Quindi with an album rooted in duality. From the yin and yang party-starting A side and meditative B side to the dual-attack boy-girl vocals, the nature of opposites and equals steer the expansive, artful strain of rock n' roll that spill out of this wholly unique Minnesotan export. For the ever intriguing Quindi, it's a strident step into Spring after the frosty introspection of Roudi Vagou & Läuten der Seele's Taghelle Nacht. While the world burns and injustice prevails, Twin is a celebration of unity and radical expression-all the more urgent against the backdrop of authoritarian overreach and righteous protest that has whipped through Minneapolis in recent times.
Twin continues Nelson's drive at the helm of American Cream Band to draw in a colourful cast of players to feed into his orgiastic sound, meshing the trance-induction of krautrock with the irrepressible funk of the post-punk-new-wave explosion. But principal among the cast of characters and forming a central tenet to the identity of this album is Liz Buhmann, lead vocalist and a formidable, playful foil to Nelson's own Midwestern twang. Around the electric spark between Buhmann and Nelson, a heavy duty ensemble wrangle guitar, bass, sax, a cornucopia of synths and a battery of percussion into all manner of sonic forms.
The double-sided concept manifests throughout Twin. On 'Call Me' Buhmann sings in French to contrast Nelson's English, while the strident strut of the NYC disco groove is offset by an inherent dreaminess that turns the track into a more cosmic kind of dancefloor workout. 'Ethical Vampire' is a spiky cut with a garage rock patina that spirals into a psychedelic, synth-soaked get-down. 'Don't Burn The House Down' is a loose and limber roller that captures Can at their funkiest along with the hypnotic vibe of other such esteemed long format jammers, but American Cream Band boils that energy into a hook-laden art pop sensibility before a gentle, drawn out landing.
Even the more pensive moments on Twin find space for friction. For all its tender, smoky temperament, 'Leda and the Swan' lets the electric piano and guitar fray at the edges and bleed into the red while Mat Heinrich's tumbling drums lurch with pent-up intensity on the one. 'No Funeral Necessary' skirts around the mellow pools of new age but prefers to let liberally doused Tape Echo tweak out Alex Meffert's honeyed sax inflections and Buhmann and Nelson's disparate sermons.
Nelson describes Twin as "an oppositorum coincidentia" - a reference to the mystical Latin concept of the coincidence of opposites that suggests contradictory ideas 'fall together' in a higher reality. Beyond the sound of the album, this idea also manifests in the cover photography by Sho Nikado and the swans on the LP labels by Autumn Garrington. As freewheeling and wide-open as American Cream Band feels, nothing appears by accident. The end result feels like a nourishing whole - rich with substance and nuance, deep enough to be explored and absorbed yet also so brazen and immediate you can't help but feel its surface charms from the first thrusts of 'The Hive Is Pissed' to the last ripples of 'We're Not So Sinister'.

nagoyaka na kaze / 和やかな風 (quiet wind): a collection of forward-thinking electronic experiments sourced from central Japan - co-curated by Nagoya artist abentis for Facta & K-LONE’s Wisdom Teeth imprint.

The project profiles a close-knit community of music makers operating in and around the Japanese city of Nagoya: one of the country’s most populous and industrial cities, but one all too often overlooked in terms of its cultural significance.

Curated in close collaboration with local scene organiser Yuya Abe - aka abentis - the record seeks to capture the creative energy of a community of artists making hard-to-define, future-facing electronic music away from the clamour of the bigger cities. “In Nagoya, there’s a strong culture of supporting artists. Even if you pursue music in your own way, as long as it’s good, you’re encouraged to keep doing what you want”, explains abentis. “Within that environment, my generation has been able to freely bring in elements we like from all kinds of genres, combine them in our own way, and express ourselves individually. If you go to Tokyo or Osaka, that kind of freedom isn’t something you can take for granted.” Spiritually, Nagoya fits the mould of cultural hotbeds like Bristol, Detroit or Melbourne, showing that some of the most innovative creative communities form away from the glare of the capital cities. Like Detroit, Nagoya is principally known for being a major auto manufacturing hub, famous for being the home of Toyota Motors - but behind the scenes, it is quietly harbouring one of Japan’s most vibrant and forward-thinking electronic music scenes. “In a good way, Nagoya is a bit removed from the cutting edge, so you find people making all kinds of music”, explains Karnage. “If you’re making music, you feel like part of the crew, and people of different ages mix together without much hierarchy.” The city’s music scene is characterised by a freedom to mix genres and an open-door approach to creatives of all disciplines. The artists featured come from a diverse set of backgrounds, ranging from hip-hop to noise music, but have found a common collective identity in their omnivorous approach to genre. As such, the record moves fluidly between shimmering ambient and new age (Am Shhara, DHYAN, daiki hayakawa), psychedelic minimal house (Methodd, abentis), abstract, low-slung downtempo (baptisma, Nasty Soupman) and spaceage steppas (Karnage). “I’d say the way ambient, new age and that kind of sound design are blending nicely with dance music feels somewhat new”, says baptisma, the crew’s eldest member and de-facto scene leader. Responsible for bringing artists like Basic Channel, Mala and Jan Jelinek to the city, baptisma has been crucial in establishing underground electronic music in Nagoya since the 90s, and now helps cultivate the next generation of local talent. “Artists and DJs are seamlessly mixing ambient and new age with techno, house and bass music. I think that’s a really interesting development.” nagoyaka na kaze has its roots in a one-off event held in October 2024 as part of the 10 Years of Wisdom Teeth Japan tour. Curated by abentis in collaboration with Facta & K-LONE, the showcase featured live sets from eight artists based in and around Nagoya at one of the city’s key dance music hubs, Club JB’s. Each of the artists features again here, on record, presenting an original commission produced especially for the project. The record’s art direction was led by Yudai Osawa - in-house designer for Kankyō Records, the much-loved Tokyo record shop run by H. Takahashi - and features original photos by Hayato Watanabe.

2026 Repress

Do you know what time it is It's debut o'clock. Emitting his first material for Pampa, it's &ME - craftsman of all things deep and sturdy, at the same time connoisseur of emotive touch and virtuoso of sure instincts, one of the scene's central characters for a good amount of years now and one of the main figures of Berlin's Keinemusik-crew. The man has been hitting the bulls eye of public perception several times in the past, meeting everything it takes to get a crowd going with an intent on the detail when it comes to his arrangements and sound. These new two cuts seem nothing less than the essence of his abilities.

There is "In Your Eyes", the name lending A side to this EP, showcasing a rather pensive mood. It's just a few bars for the compound of kickdrum, tuned hi-hat tambourine and shimmering background noise until the first chords of an improvised piano-piece are tenderly laid upon the beat. Add a synth-motive coming back and forth and you'll have the main ingredients to this - in every sense of the word - floor-moving tune. Accordingly, the arrangement won't aim for an all too obvious sensationalism and rather opts for a flowing and intertwining call and response of its elements, ultimately resulting in a staggering impact anyway.
In comparison, "As Above So Below" on the flipside is adding a fair amount of emphasis. It unfolds in a dry and dense sounding beat-architecture that's suspense-packed with shaker sounds and subtextual field recordings. Most certainly, a slip-proof ground for this tune's centre-piece, a scale-riding synthbass sparking an almost anthemic trigger for floor-ecstasy. While details like subtle reverberating tapping and sparkling ambient textures sound like recorded deep down in a dripstone cave, the overall energetic layout pushes relentlessly to the heights of peaktime-grandeur. There you have it: "As Above So Below" - this tune works on every level.

In recent years, Blackploid has come to be one of Central Processing Unit's signature artists. The German producer has averaged more than a record a year for the Sheffield imprint since he first landed on CPU in 2021. This prolific run continues withCosmic Drama, Blackploid's second LP for the label. The album takes the baton from its predecessorEnter Universein style, delivering twelve tracks of top-quality machine-funk that draw down from electro's classic artists while also imbuing proceedings with a playfulness that very much gives things a signature Blackploid-ish flavour.

Cosmic Dramasets its stall out from the off. The opening run of 'Alien', 'World Construction' and 'Virtual State' all deliver piston-snapping beats which anchor pleasing melanges of B-movie synth lines. Alongside this, Blackploid adds little flourishes which add buoyancy to each joint - a syncopated bassline reminiscent of I-f's late-90s classic 'Space Invaders Are Smoking Grass', crackling robo-voiced commands, skittering synth chords which wash across the mix and so on. It's the work of someone completely at ease with their craft, comfortable enough to take risks without upsetting the apple cart of their sound's core appeal.

Blackploid's idiosyncratic approach to synth work is something which distinguishesCosmic Dramafrom the pack. Electro has long been a genre which prides itself on innovation on the keys, but few producers are willing to push their sonics as far as Blackploid does - take the seasick churn of pads and processors on 'Multiverse', for instance, or the way John Carpenter-esque single-note lines dovetail with gurgling synthetic pulses and eerie, spacious chords on 'The Lab', a highlight ofCosmic Drama's midsection.

Cosmic Dramaskips along at club tempo throughout - every one of these joints will get bodies moving in dark rooms across the galaxy. However, even when tracks maintain their single-minded pursuit of machine-funk perfection, they never forget to deliver on the hooks. Blackploid has lead lines (and counter-melodies) to burn here, and each track knots them together in ever-more intriguing ways as they plough onwards. Drexciyan heads will be thrilled by the sci-fi delights of 'Species', for instance, while Blackploid brings melodies as cold as they are catchy on the aptly-named 'Polar Dunes'. By the timeCosmic Dramahits upon the vroom-vrooming bassline line of closer 'Contact', you're fully enthralled to the album's combination of broken-beat heft and synthetic melodiousness.

Central Processing Unit mainstay Blackploid comes through with another delightful dozen of electro heaters for the Sheffield label.

RIYL:Drexciya, I-f, Cygnus, AFX

Passing Currents aims to stand out from the predictable by offering a deeply human touch in its music. This five-tracker backs that up by melding academic expertise with dancefloor intuition and the A-side features txted by Phil Moffa remixed by Yamaha DSP coder okpk after they met during doctoral studies, they flip technical mastery into bass-driven energy while Atrevido' fuses California warmth with analogue electro, Josh Dahlberg's rediscovered 2009 electro gem, 'Ass On The Floor', still bangs and Detroit's Kevin Reynolds delivers hypnotic grooves before Hazmat Live pushes boundaries with a sound rooted in soulful, experimental innovation.

The word Datasal paints inner pictures for most people growing up in Sweden during the 1990’s. The datasal (a classroom for computers) was an ordinary classroom with few changes to fit the school’s 10 newly leased computers. The room represented the change of times in Sweden during this period: the fixed institutions and the awaiting digital flood wave.

The music of Datasal sounds captures the feeling of printing a downloaded picture of your favorite hockey player or music artist or the expectations building up as you wait for the modem to log in to interact with the thousands of users of the internet in 1995. The tracks this release manifests the excitement but also the bit of fright you felt connecting to the world in the mid 90’s - a time when the internet still was fun.

The sound is built around repetitive sequencer loops and programmed beats where electric bass, electric guitar and flute improvise around a theme, creating a sound that is best described as cosmic flute house. Datasal is an harmonic reminder of a time where digital progress seemed less harmful than today.

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Originally released on CD in 2006, It's A Feedelity Affair marked a formative moment in Hans Peter Lindstrøm's early career, compiling key tracks from his first wave of 12-inch releases between 2003 and 2006. Now, twenty years after the founding of his Feedelity label, the album is presented for the first time as a newly remastered vinyl edition.

"Listening back now, I hear an artist still figuring things out, but with a clear instinct for where I wanted to go. It was a period defined by freedom - no rules, no expectations." - Hans-Peter Lindstrøm

Released at a time when electronic music was shaped by extended runtimes and physical formats, It's A Feedelity Affair captured a club culture rooted in patience, atmosphere, and spatial awareness rather than immediacy. Its long-form approach remains central to the album's lasting appeal and resonates strongly with today's renewed focus on vinyl and immersive listening experiences. The album stands as a document of an era marked by experimentation, expansive club tracks, and an open-ended vision of electronic music.

Upon its original release, the album received widespread international attention, including a Best New Music rating (8.4) from Pitchfork. The track I Feel Space has since become one of Lindstrøm's most enduring and recognizable works. The album also documents some of his earliest collaborations with Prins Thomas and Christabelle, resulting in tracks such as Boney M Down and Lovesick.

Lindstrøm relaunched Feedelity in 2024, with the label returning in 2025 alongside his most recent album Sirius Syntoms and the single Cirkl, marking a full-circle moment for the imprint. A new studio album is currently in progress and expected in autumn 2026.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.

“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”

However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.

The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”

What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.

Evighet proudly unveils its fifth release, EVIGHET005, featuring the Sky City EP by Dave N.A., the prolific producer from Yerevan known for his refined sound design and emotionally resonant compositions. With a catalog that spans labels such as Typeless Records and Uppers & Downers, his work continues to bridge precision and sensitivity, exploring the borders between rhythmic architecture and ambient introspection. On Sky City EP, Dave N.A. constructs an intricate sonic landscape where lush atmospheres coexist with fractured breaks and IDM-inspired rhythms. Rooted in the traditions of Jungle and Breakbeat yet unbound by genre, each piece reveals a narrative built from texture, movement and space. His music invites reflection while maintaining a dynamic forward energy, evoking the sense of motion through memory and dreamlike transitions. A central moment in the release is “Bloom”, which features a collaboration with Hayk Karoyi on flute. His performance adds an organic depth and melodic fluidity, weaving through electronic layers with warmth and clarity. The result is a delicate interplay between human breath and machine pulse, blurring the boundary between the natural and the synthetic. Sky City EP marks a new chapter for Evighet, reaffirming the label’s dedication to sound as a medium of exploration and storytelling. Through this release, Dave N.A. captures both emotional immediacy and compositional detail, expanding the label’s evolving narrative with a vision that feels deeply personal yet universally resonant.

Ever since the late 1950s bossa-nova revolution, Brazil’s influence on French music has been undeniable. Pierre Barouh, Georges Moustaki and a vast array of lesser known artists, all made the Musica Popular Brasileira (MPB) an axis of promotion at the service of a cool and metaphysical, modern and mixed Brazilian lifestyle. Some were seduced by the poetic languors of the bossa, some were looking for fun, and others just loved the American hybridization of jazz-bossa, jazz-samba.



What is bossa nova? One of its creators, Joao Gilberto said: "Its style, cadence, everything is samba. At the very start, we didn't call it bossa nova, we sang a little samba made up of a single note - Samba de uma nota so .... The discussion around the origins of bossa nova is therefore useless”. It is nevertheless useful to remember that these magnificent Brazilian songs, which the guitarist describes as samba, were shifted and balanced around improbable chords. "I like things that lean, the in-betweens that limp with grace," said Pierre Barrouh, quoting Jean Cocteau.



With emotion, arrangements for violin and supple guitar licks, bossa nova rapidly changed. A transformation that can be heard in the Tchic, tchic, French Bossa Nova 1963-1974 compilation, the result of a cultural reappropriation, which traveled through the United States and supplemented itself in France.

A musical revolution that has remained significant, bossa nova was born in Rio. From 1956 to 1961, Brazil lived through its golden years. In five years, the country had invented its modernist style. Elected president in 1956, Juscelino Kubitschek de Oliveira, an elegant man with a broad forehead, brandished a promising slogan: "Fifty years of progress in five years". He quickly got to work. Not worried about increasing debt, he launched the project for a new federal capital, Brasilia, designed by the communist architect Oscar Niemeyer. Volkswagen opened state-of-the-art factories and created the “fusquinha”, the Beetle. In Rio, the Vespa made its first appearance. The Arpoador Surf Club crew run into the “girl” from Ipanema, Helô Pinheiro - the tanned garota ("chick"), between a flower and mermaid, who at 17 walked by the Veloso bar, where the fiery author and composer, Tom Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, were getting drunk on whiskey. From then on, bossa symbolized cool.

In 1958, Joao Gilberto recorded Chega de Saudade, which the directors of Philips denied, calling it "music for fagots". The marketing director, who believed in it, secretly pressed 3000 78-inch vinyls and distributed them at schools around Rio, creating a tidal wave.

American jazzmen then took over. In particular, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie and guitarist Charlie Byrd. In November 1962, the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs funded a "Bossa-Nova" concert at Carnegie Hall in New York, inviting the genre’s pioneers. Unprepared, the show soon turned to disaster. But the troupe was invited to the White House by Jackie Kennedy. The first lady loved "the new beat" and in particular Maria Ninguem, a song by Carlos Lyra, later covered by Brigitte Bardot.

In Brazil, the 1964 military coup quickly ended this euphoria. The destructive atmosphere that ensued pushed many Brazilian musicians to leave, if not to exile. Thus, Tom Jobim, Sergio Mendes and Joao Gilberto arrived to the United States. In New York, Joao Gilberto met saxophonist Stan Getz. At the time, he was married to the Bahianese Astrud Weinert Gilberto, who had a German father. She had never sung before, but she knew how to speak English. Getz therefore asked her to replace her husband on The Girl From Ipanema. The Getz/Gilberto record with Tom Jobim on piano, was released in March 1964. Phil Ramone, the "pope of pop" was in charge of sound.

Bossa nova arrived in Paris through the classic “guitar-voice” channel (Pierre Barouh, Baden Powell, Moustaki…) But France loved jazz and Paris had already welcomed its American contributors. All these good people were to pass through Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The cabaret l'Escale became the Mecca of Latin American sound where one could find Pierre Barrouh and his friends, such as the Camara Trio, samba-jazz aces, whose only record was published by the Saravah label. With a band strangely called Les Masques (a band that included Nicole Croisille and Pierre Vassiliu, among others), the Camara Trio recorded an interesting Brazilian Sound, including the track Il faut tenir which is present on this tasty compilation of rarities.

Other enlightened musicians can also be found on the compilation, such as Jean-Pierre Sabar (songwriter for Hardy, Auffray, Leforestier ...) and the French pop rock organist Balthazar. In 1975, Sabar recorded Aurinkoinen Musiikkimatka on a Finnish label, which featured the crazy Vai, Vai, included on this record. We are now following the footsteps of Brazilian electronic musicians such as Sergio Mendes, Eumir Deodato or Marcos Valle who created funk and disco sounds on their keyboards and synthesizers. A style that influenced Véronique Sanson when she wrote Jusqu’à la Tombée de la nuit in 1969 for Isabelle de Funès, the niece of Louis and a great friend of Michel Berger - Sanson did end up singing this track on her 1992 Sans Regret record.


The pinnacle of exoticism and travel, Sylvia Fels’ Corto Maltese includes bongos, sea mist and ocean sounds. The title was taken from Jacky Chalard’s concept album written in 1974, Je suis vivant, mais j’ai peur (I am alive, but I am scared), based on Gilbert Deflez’s science fiction novel.


However, bossa nova extended the scope of popularity. "In the 1970s, I was a fan of Sergio Mendes, Getz / Gilberto. I fell in love with this music that I knew because I had been an orchestral singer, " explained Isabelle Aubret, who in 1971 delivered a composite record of covers by the very funky Jorge Ben, Orfeu Negro, Tom Jobim, Vinicius de Morais and Jean Ferrat. "I recorded this album for Meys Records in Paris, far from Brazil, with wonderful musicians, François Raubert, Roland Vincent, Alain Goraguer...". The latter wrote the arrangements for Casa Forte, a very percussive title borrowed from Edu Lobo, one of the initiators of the bossa who spent time in California. "Jazz and bossa came together and produced very rhythmic music. I love singing, it allows me to dream, to have fun, to feel a high on stage, and these songs brought me joy, made me swing, my singing felt like a dance.”


The world tours of French singers and their desire for the tropics, often brought them to Rio with its hills, forests, caipirinhas and tanned bodies. There are surprises though, like this Iemenja (Iemenja is the goddess of the sea in the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion). Not unlike the composer and musician Jean-Pierre Lang, based in Sao Paulo, Claire Chevalier taught Brazil to Brazil. In 1970, the singer and painter published a 45-inch vinyl, Mon mari et mes amants (My husband and my lovers), under the improbable pseudonym of Clarinha (little Claire). She was then living in Rio, with her husband, Joël Leibovitz, who founded a band called Azimuth, and who owned a record label specialized in "sambas enredos" songs for samba school parades.


For its B side, she asked Pierre Perret to come up with lyrics for a song composed by Carlos Imperial: "Oh goddess of the sea, o goddess Iemenja, I bring a white rose to adorn your long hair ..." . "Perret came to see us, and we had fun, remembers Joël Leibovitz. We wrote Lemenja for fun, we recorded it at the Havaí studio, behind the Central do Brasil the central station. Erlon Chaves, the arranger who worked with Elis Regina, joined us" adding his share of Afro-Brazilian percussions and funky brass to the mix.

There is a common misunderstanding in Franco-Brazilian history: that bossa, admittedly hedonistic, is perceived as funny, even though the poets who wrote the texts are often philosophizing on the human condition. Its French interpreters pull it towards a carnival inspired universe, far removed from its fundamental essence. Thus, Jean Constantin covered the famous Samba da minha terra, an ode to the art of samba written by the classic Bahian composer Dorival Caymmi, renaming it with the enticing title of Pas tant de tchi tchi pompon: "On your pier there is no tchi tchi / when you arch your back, you know everything is alright ”(lyrics by Gérard Calvi). This expedited bossa aims for the absurd, but retains a certain elegance.

Indeed, Jean Constantin was not an idiot, the rather large man had a huge mustache and liked fantasy, (Les pantoufles à papa, Le pacha, inspired by cha-cha-cha-cha, salsa and jazz) but he was also the lyricist of Mon manège à moi interpreted by Edith Piaf, the composer of Mon Truc en plume by Zizi Jeanmaire and the soundtrack of François Truffaut’s 400 Blows. Le Poulpe, published in 1970, from which this bossa is extract, was arranged by Jean-Claude Vannier, an accomplice of Serge Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson. In short: "There is enough of samba / By looking at the parasol / Because my poor cabeza / Is going to die in the sun".

Even the American actress Marpessa Down, who was at the heart of the bossa nova revolution with her role as Euridyce in Marcel Camus’ film Orfeu Negro, winner of the 1959 Cannes Palme d'or, fed the clichée with Je voudrais parler au petit cuica - "Tell me how you manage to always make people want to dance / It's true, I must admit that I cannot resist your magic" - in consequence, once can hear the cuica, a little drum inherited from the Bantu.


But bossa nova had many angles. Societal, of course, pushing actresses who were symbols of women's liberation like Brigitte Bardot, Jeanne Moreau, or Sophia Loren to engage in the exercise of accelerated bossa. In February of 1963, Sophia Loren made a record in French in Rome, Je ne t'aime plus, featuring the song De jour en jour, a bossa written by two Italians, Armando Trovajoli and Tino Fornai, which was released a little later by Barclay. Bossa accompanied the 1960s, a decade of moral liberation. Ann Sorel, who interpreted La Poupée des favellas, caused a sensation with L’amour à plusieurs, a provocative song written by Frédéric Bottom and Jean-Claude Vannier. As for the actress Andrea Parisy, she displayed her bourgeois cheekiness in Marcel Carné's Les Tricheurs before interpreting Les mains qui font du bien. And Magalie Noël, the friend of Boris Vian, who sung Johnny fais-moi mal, was hired to sing Une énorme Samba, composed by Alain Goraguer (arranger to Gainsbourg, Bobby Lapointe and Jean Ferrat) with lyrics by Frédéric Botton.

But in the end, of what wood is bossa nova made of? The answer is given by Christianne Legrand, daughter of Raymond the conductor, and sister to Michel the composer: "With me, with jà" - jà means "immediately" in Portuguese. In 1972, the singer, an expert in vocal jazz and a member of the Double Six, published Le Brésil de Christianne Legrand. Two songs included on the Tchic Tchic compilation that demonstrate how bossa, jazz, funk, rock, etc. work like a swiss army knife: the music is used to denounce broken systems, or miracles, HLM et ciné roman, Cent mille poissons dans ton filet, two songs from the O Cafona soundtrack, a successful telenovela broadcast, at the time in black and white, on TV Globo. The first was adapted in French by the fighter and friend of the Legrand tribe, Agnès Varda. The second is content with a play on words, jostling them into a summer fun.



Véronique Mortaigne

The Just Joans' new album Romantic Visions of Scotland finds the Glasgow band in characteristically melancholic form, pairing shambling indie pop with sharp observations on romantic pratfalls and everyday dis-appointments, all delivered with sardonic Scottish wit, fronted by siblings David and Katie Pope, whose wry lyrics and heartfelt vocals remain at the heart of the band’s distinctive sound.
Originally inspired by a grandiose exhibition title spotted on Glasgow buses in 2019 for a show at the Nation-al Museum of Scotland called Wild and Majestic: Romantic Visions of Scotland, the new album arrives six years later as a collection of semi-autobiographical snapshots from the Central Belt of Scotland. Whilst some of the details have been exaggerated for comic (or tragic) effect, the songs are based on personal experience of mundane failings, bitter regrets and missed opportunities that make up an unremarkable life.
Recurring themes of nostalgia for a bygone era and the fear of being left behind by lovers, friends and peers run throughout the album. Musically and lyrically, the band channels Village Green-era Kinks, with nods to The Television Personalities, The Smiths and Dolly Mixture.
In the past they have always recorded by themselves in a variety of bedrooms, living rooms – and the occasional toilet. For the first time they have abandoned their DIY recording practices to create what songwriter David Pope calls, “a corporate behemoth in an actual studio.” The album was recorded at Chem19 in Blan-tyre with Paul Savage, who is best known as a founding member of local legends The Delgados. He has also produced and recorded the likes of Teenage Fanclub, Arab Strap and Camera Obscura, and has captured a slightly more muscular version of the band while retaining their ramshackle charm.
The album artwork by vocalist and painter Katie Pope depicts Motherwell Train Station – an ordinary, boring place that speaks to the subject matter of the songs, but with a hint of potential escape. As David Pope ex-plains, “For me, the painting reminds me of the ending of Billy Liar in which Billy tries and fails to leave his hometown for the bright lights of London. Half the band also live in Motherwell, so it seemed appropriate.”
Funded by Creative Scotland, the recording allowed the band to bring in bass and cello arrangements, adding depth and a sheen of musical proficiency to their signature sound.
About The Just Joans - The Just Joans were formed in Glasgow in 2005 by songwriter David Pope. Early demos were collected together and released as a loose concept album, Last Tango in Motherwell, in 2006. Chris Elkin joined on guitar and was followed shortly after by David’s younger sister, Katie, on vocals and Fraser Ford on bass. Over the years they have released EPs and albums on WeePOP! and Fika Records and have gained a cult following as Scottish pop miserabilists.
The current line-up consists of Katie Pope (vocals), David Pope (vocals, guitar), Chris Elkin (lead guitar), Fraser Ford (bass), Arion Xenos (keyboards) and Jason Sweeney (drums).
Press Quotes:
“They fit snugly into the scratchy, low budget Scottish indie tradition of The Delgados and Arab Strap… There’s mischief in this miserabilism.” - Mojo 4*s
“Glasgow’s The Just Joans have documented the romantic pratfalls of a generation of indie kids with sardonic wit and a shambling musical style where Stephin Merrit lies down with The Vaselines.” - Uncut
“Funny and sad, it’s the kind of song that made Red House Painters, The Magnetic Fields and The Wedding Present’s early albums so easy to embrace; an unpretentious sharing of relatable gloom.” - Record Collector

Over the past year, No Drama, the label founded by Roy Rosenfeld, has established itself as a space for creative independence and artistic authenticity. Known for his refined fusion of house, techno, and downtempo, Rosenfeld channels the same principles into his imprint, prioritizing artistic freedom, emotional resonance, and sonic exploration.

The label's fourth release, No Drama V.2, delivers a cohesive four-track EP spanning over twenty-six minutes of forward-thinking electronic music.

Opening with Dubi, Rosenfeld crafts a composition built on contrasts and playful percussion set against a wistful melodic backdrop. Over nearly seven minutes, the track unfolds gradually, expanding into a hypnotic crescendo that captures both dance floorintensity and introspective depth.

Next comes Coral by Dulus, a Colombian-born artist, based in Santiago, Dominican Republic. With roots in guitar and vocal performance, his understanding of musical structure permeates the composition. Layers of subtle vocal textures, resonant basslines, and scattered sonic details create a sense of depth and movement. The track's hypnotic progression rewards close listening, revealing intricate nuances beneath its steady groove.

The third track, Pink Hearts, by Sydney-based producer Luka Sambe, draws from his experience in Australia's festival scene. Sambe blends melodic house structures with acid-tinged flourishes and offbeat sonic details. Each element lands with intent, building an infectious energy that feels effortless yet deeply crafted.

Closing the release is Oscar Wave by Darco, a rising artist celebrated for his immersive live performances that blend electronic textureswith organic instrumentation. The track channels early trance influences and Middle Eastern tonalities into an uplifting, psychedelic journey. Its central section bursts into a wave of euphoric release, bringing a fitting conclusion to a compilation that celebrates both diversity and unity in sound.

No Drama V.2 stands as a testament to Rosenfeld's curatorial vision and sincerity. Each track resonates with purpose, offering a glimpse into a global community of artists united by their shared pursuit of creation.

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

Jessica93, prodigal bastard of our glorious french squat scene, relocated on Born Bad : this is no picnic. Geoffroy Laporte, alone against all odds, alternates bass and guitar to build harsh loops with a drum machine spitting pre-Gulf War patterns. That’s where it gets tricky : every musical posse claims him. Grunge, sure, but Jessica doesn’t indulge in necrophilia. His circuit is punk, he doesn’t dress the part though. Cold wave, the atmosphere fits somehow, but the gear does not. The self-confident rock horde saw him playing with hair in his eyes… but he never joined the Party. Metal had something to say but sadly, nobody listened. Maybe it's time to give it a rest and let Jessica93 cook his great misery broth on her own, called « 666 tours de périph’ » (666 laps on the beltway). Witnessing Jessica93 live makes you dread that he'll get up the next morning, drive 200 miles and one nap later kick it again, when it takes us a good week to recover from the bad half of that same evening. Like so many other unknown soldiers during our very own world war of music, he patrols small venues relentlessly.



At the heart of this cultural pentacle painted by french weirdos Bryan's Magic Tears, and Carine Krinator, Jessica93 has built a sound validated by years of chosen vagrancy, birthing bands with joyously stupid monikers, in the humid jungle of small labels. Jessica93's debut album had a track celebrating Omar Little, HBO’s gay bandit from Baltimore. This story begins on the beltway, where Florence Rey, accidental copkiller turned to political icon of the 90’s. Geoffroy offers his brilliant analysis : " C’est la police qui nous tire d’ssus / C’est mon trou d’balle qui leur chie d’ssus « (Police shoots us down / my dripping asshole gets the job done).



A previous album was haunted by bedbugs, this one is essentially about love, a delicious scourge just as hard to eradicate. Two black diamonds peek out of the LP : ’’La colline du crack’’, heartbreak song about the ultimate temptation of violent delights, located on crackhead central in Paris. The brilliant chorus, ‘Take my hand and come with me to Crack Hill’ will put an end to the rumours, almost everything was really false. And Bébé Requin, alternative obituary that’ll make you shiver, where our nice couple states ‘’on kiffe la drogue dure et les ptits chiens’ (‘we love hard drugs and little dogs’). And that is the reason we face the wall of sound jostled by unnecessary shoulder thrusts: those nice fat chunks of charcoal poetry, hidden under light sarcasm.



The rest of the record demonstrates the know-how acquired in loop-by-loop construction of ruins that are pleasant to squat in together. There’s your classic doom delicatessen, with bits of heavy metal inside, crafted with the manic care typical of hard wankers. Arthur Satàn, who produced and mixed the album at home in Bordeaux, helped him get his head out of the reverb safe house. And Jessica93 took the opportunity to switch to the dark side of the language : french at last. Worth the wait ! Sing along : « nique sa mère / nique sa grosse mère » (translate that yourself).

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.