Cerca:chorus

After so long it becomes harder to say new things about older things you now just do. Some things you've become. Some things you simply (never simply) are. The thing becomes a slippery notion. The self slides along with it. After this long, the story is whatever are the songs. A Self-portrait at two decades. Here are 11 new ones, from the current constellation, and a future still to come. The cement is still wet on that one. From the forest near where I now live you can hear a chorus of different birds in voice at once, competing but each defined, in defence of a territory or to attract a mate. There's an app that tells you so. I wonder, too, what that app doesn't reveal, if their nature need not share those same purposes. This is simply (never simply) how it exists. If we can't speak to the mysteries of these strategies, they at least persist, regardless of who picks up the frequency. Singing to itself, and there will always be these kinds of songs. Indies only Blue Vinyl! 1.Ulrika Spacek - 'Interesting Corners' 2. Empty Country - 'D3SP4IR' 3. The Reds, Pinks & Purples - 'New Market Space (Down the Stairs Ver.) 4. Cindy - 'The Thousand First' 5. April Magazine - 'U Bop' 6. Index For Working Musik - 'Going to Heaven On the End of A String' 7. Midding - 'Do As You Would' 8. Luft - 'My Third Eye' 9. Hospital - '25 Jade Place' 10. William Doyle - 'The Sun Ain't Doing It For Me Lately' 11. Daily Toll - 'Begin Again'

"Carmina Burana macht Spaß, denn das Werk hat echte Emotionen. Das sind die beiden markanten Punkte, die in dieser lebhaft charakterisierten Aufführung deutlich werden und viele neue Hörer und Genießer gewinnen dürfte.“ Gramophone Magazine. André Previns bahnbrechende Aufnahme der Carmina Burana mit dem London Symphony Orchestra aus dem Jahr 1974 ist nach wie vor eine der elektrisierendsten Darbietungen von Orffs überschwänglicher Kantate. Vom bedeutungsvollen Eröffnungslied O Fortuna bis zum schwärmerischen Schlusschor bringt Previn die rhythmische Vitalität, die Sinnlichkeit und das theatralische Flair dieser hedonistischen Feier des Lebens und der Liebe zur Geltung. Die Solisten – Sheila Armstrong, Gerald English und vor allem Thomas Allen glänzen mit Klarheit und Charakter, während der London Symphony Chorus und der temperamentvolle Knabenchor der St. Clement Danes Grammar School die Aufführung abrunden. Nun erscheint diese Aufnahme auf Vinyl.

Mit The Shadow of the Guest veröffentlichen Blonde Redhead eine traumwandlerische, leicht entrückte Neuinterpretation ihres gefeierten Albums Sit Down for Dinner (2023). Das Album ist seit dem 27. Juni 2025 digital erhältlich – die limitierte physische Edition erscheint am 24. Oktober 2025 über section1.

In Zusammenarbeit mit dem Brooklyn Youth Chorus entstanden neu arrangierte Versionen von „Before“, „Rest of Her Life“ und „Via Savona“, die das Originalmaterial auf überraschende Weise vertiefen. Hinzu kommen frische Interpretationen des Rick-and-Morty-Klassikers „For The Damaged Coda“, darunter eine ebenso hypnotische wie unerwartete mariachi-inspirierte Variante.

Ein besonderer Bestandteil des Albums sind mehrere ASMR-Tracks, komponiert von Kazu Makino – ursprünglich als Soundtrack für eine Modenschau von Isabel Marant gedacht. Was als akustisches Experiment begann, entwickelte sich zu einem intimen kreativen Projekt mit starker emotionaler Tiefe.

„Diese Veröffentlichung ist für uns etwas Besonderes“, sagt Kazu. „Es sind nicht einfach neue Versionen – sondern die Verwirklichung eines langen Traums.“

Für Fans von Art-Rock, atmosphärischen Klangwelten und mutiger musikalischer Neugier.

Developed over three years across residencies, tours, and periods of deep listening, “Your Whistle Tells of Landscape” finds Australian sound artist Alexandra Spence continuing her investigations into the perceptual entanglements of sound, place, memory, and imagination. Like much of the artist’s work, it unfolds at the liminal edge between the real and the imagined — between what is heard and what is remembered.

Composed from a constellation of materials gathered across sites and seasons — snowscapes recorded in Vancouver, insect choruses from a Sydney backyard, ceramic fragments unearthed while mudlarking with tinysound — it renders an intimate cartography of experience: one shaped equally by ecological resonance and internal drift. Each piece traces a kind of imaginary geography, where sonic ephemera become proxies for topography, weather, or myth.

The album is informed by time spent at EMS (Stockholm) and MESS (Melbourne), where Spence deepened her engagement with microtonality and tuned feedback systems, and by dialogues with sympathetic artists such as Tashi Wada and Patrick Farmer. Sound materials were sourced from Serge Modular systems, a custom lyre built by Tim Wall, amplified objects, handmade electronics, and Spence’s own field recordings captured within rockpools, beneath sand, and among a flock of sheep in the French Pyrenees. On “Magenta,” a collaboration with Delphine Dora, the domestic and mythic intertwine, as layers of voice, environmental recordings, and Halldorophone feedback drift in and out of one another like overlapping weather systems.

Despite its diverse material palette, the album resists spectacle or accumulation. Instead, it moves with a quiet sense of continuity and a rich interiority — less a sequence of compositions than a set of situated attunements. Across its duration, sounds seem to murmur, glint, or hover right at the edge of presence, invoking a listening practice that is as much about orientation as it is about reception. These are pieces not simply about place, but of place — etched with the grains of time, vibration, and breath.

The Scunthorpian partners-in-crime Rupert and Henry Stansall, mythologized in wanted posters as Ruen Brothers, are back in the saddle with their fourth studio album: Awooo. Titled after the lycanthropic howling chorus of their melancholic track “Sitting at the Station,” Awooo finds the duo on the road again, full of ruminative wanderlust and exploring sprawling, dark deserts, carrying with only their songbook of western-inspired folklore. The meditative, building desire of “The Cabin on the Hill,” the pensive yearning etched inside “Poison Down the Wire,“ and a tasteful reimagining of the tried-and-true traditional “Mama Don’t” that could easily pass as an original, all exhibit the creative growth that these young troubadours have established over their decade-long career. This limited first edition pressing of Awooo is pressed on frosted shadow color vinyl and is limited to 800 copies worldwide.

The Scunthorpian partners-in-crime Rupert and Henry Stansall, mythologized in wanted posters as Ruen Brothers, are back in the saddle with their fourth studio album: Awooo. Titled after the lycanthropic howling chorus of their melancholic track “Sitting at the Station,” Awooo finds the duo on the road again, full of ruminative wanderlust and exploring sprawling, dark deserts, carrying with only their songbook of western-inspired folklore. The meditative, building desire of “The Cabin on the Hill,” the pensive yearning etched inside “Poison Down the Wire,“ and a tasteful reimagining of the tried-and-true traditional “Mama Don’t” that could easily pass as an original, all exhibit the creative growth that these young troubadours have established over their decade-long career. This limited indie exclusive pressing of Awooo is pressed on frosted shadow color vinyl and is autographed by both Henry and Rupert Stansall and is limited to 200 copies worldwide.

Young Gun Silver Fox are the captains of AM Waves, setting sail towards an isle where melodies soak the shoreline and grooves sway like palm trees. Their route traces a natural progression fromWest End Coast, an album that cast Andy Platts (Young Gun) and Shawn Lee (Silver Fox) as musical virtuosos of SoCal-infused pop. AM Waves does more than duplicate the perfection of West End Coast. It improves it.

Recorded at The Shop in London and Roffey Hall in the English countryside, AM Waves burnishes the blend between the duo's modern aesthetic and their sumptuously crafted homage to '70s-styled pop, rock, and soul. "This music hits a certain spot for me personally that nothing else quite does," says Shawn, who produced the album amidst his projects for Saint Etienne, Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra, and several other acts. "It's real high-caliber music. It's easy and breezy to listen to but it's really hard to make. Every aspect is A game."

The A game behind AM Waves fuels 43 minutes of Young Gun Silver Fox in peak form. "AM Waves is much more instinctive," says Andy, whose penchant for writing irresistible hooks and melodies also shapes his role as lead singer and lyricist/composer for the band Mamas Gun. "It's more vivid. You can see the clarity to the colors of AM Waves whereas West End Coast is slightly more impressionist, as it were."

Originally issued as a single in September 2017, "Midnight in Richmond" is the anchor of AM Waves. "I hit one chord, which I'd never played before, and the song sort of wrote itself," notes Shawn. "It was intuitive. In many ways, the primary function of what I'm doing is trying to find that chord that opens a door and takes you someplace else. Those chords have magic." Andy embellishes the song's appeal by nimbly juxtaposing wistful emotions with a sun-kissed melody, his voice evoking richly drawn memories. The qualities that make "Midnight in Richmond" an instant classic abound throughout the album.

"Lenny" and "Take It or Leave It" spotlight Andy's versatility as a songwriter. The former was inspired by a dream he had where Lenny Kravitz owned a bar. "It was surreal," he says. "He was polishing the glasses and just serving me hit after hit." Like swimming through moonshine, Andy languorously savors every syllable in the song. "Take It or Leave It" is pure pop bliss. "That was one of those songs that fell out in half an hour," he says. "I had everything and it was done." Shawn adds, "It's such a perfect song in itself. When I listen to it, it's like you've created a record that already existed."

Young Gun Silver Fox introduce a five-piece horn section on "Underdog" that literally trumpets the song's protagonist. Shawn affectionately dubbed them the "Seaweed Horns" in honor of the Seawind Horns, an LA-based unit that recorded with powerhouses like Michael Jackson,Rufus & Chaka Khan,and Earth, Wind & Fire during the late-'70s. Andy explains, "The horns grab another hue of the west coast sound, which is the starting point, but it's also maybe the point where we're injecting a little bit more of ourselves and some outside colors into the familiar west coast palette."

A bounty of treasures course through AM Waves' ebb and flow. "Mojo Rising," which the duo penned with Rob Johnson, is a veritable retreat to paradise. "Sky-bound, heaven sent / Way above the clouds watching shootingstars descend," Andy sings, mirroring the music's celestial undertones. Sensuality contours the notes on "Just a Man," a song that basks in the allure of a woman who leaves "footprints on the water" while "Love Guarantee" is festooned with the Seaweed Horns. "I wanted to bring more of that R&B slickness into the mix," Shawn notes about the latter track. "We hadn't done a tune with that sort of groove." Similar to his work on "Underdog," Nichol Thomson's intricate horn arrangement on "LoveGuarantee"exemplifies another distinction between AM Waves and its predecessor.

"Caroline" occupies a special place on AM Waves, beyond spawning the album title. It tells the story of Radio Caroline, a pirate radio station that broadcast from an offshore vessel during the '60s and '70s. "They played the music that kids wanted to hear, whether it was the old stuff or cutting edge stuff," says Andy. "'Caroline' is about Radio Caroline's eventual capture." Complementing Andy Platts' deft wordplay, which draws parallels between radio airwaves and the station's literal home on the ocean, Shawn Lee layers nearly a dozen different parts on "Caroline," showcasing the vastness of his musicality. "I loved that track as soon as I heard it," Andy continues. "It's a beautiful fusion of me and Shawn."

The Seaweed Horns joinYoung Gun Silver Foxas they detour to the dance floor on "Kingston Boogie." Shawn explains the track's genesis, "I was thinking, what have we not done yet We definitely should get an AOR disco thing happening. I quite like disco. The beat is so metronomic that it allows you to be really sophisticated on top. 'Kingston Boogie' just laid itself out. I call it 'midnight disco.'" With a nod to "Lenny," Andy Platts sets "Kingston Boogie" back at Lenny's Bar, this time revealing a detail or two about its mysterious proprietor as he pours sweet wine and moonshine.

In a sense, AM Waves ends with the beginning. Even before there was Young Gun Silver Fox, there was "Lolita," the first song Andy Platts and Shawn Lee wrote together and a crowd-pleasing staple of the duo's live sets. The tale of a femme fatale who harbors a secret was recorded for West End Coast but instead furnished the B-side to "Long Way Back" as well as a bonus track on the North American edition of the album. Despite the song's checkered trajectory, its infectious chorus sparked the brighter, more buoyant orientation of AM Waves.

Like the moon pulling the tide, Young Gun Silver Fox are a magnet for good songs. "We're both so obsessed and constantly interested in music-making," says Andy. "We're both thinking about it all the time. When you know you have an accomplice with you that's the same as you, it's very liberating. Suddenly, worlds of color start to appear." Indeed, AM Waves is elemental in its power to induce pleasure. Dive right in.

Christian John Wikane

(New York City / February 2018)

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

The Reds, Pinks & Purples is a San Francisco indie band led by Glenn Donaldson (The Ivy Tree, Skygreen Leopards, Art Museums and Painted Shrine). For fans of_ Guided By Voices, The Chills, Teenage Fanclub, The Shins, The Replacements, Leonard Cohen, The Go-Betweens, Robert Wyatt. Having penned over 200 songs in the last six years, The Reds, Pinks and Purples release a collection of tracks previously unreleased on physical format that continues to romanticise the wonders and woes of the world. With song titles that read like chapter sub-heads for a post-Douglas Coupland novella, 'The Past Is A Garden I Never Fed' takes The Reds, Pinks and Purples central orator Glenn Donaldson through the turmoil of small talk and everyday water cooler moments with a fine sense of pathos and irony. Set to a soundtrack that swerves between the dark days of Television Personalities and Byrdsian twang to the Jarvis Cocker-styled rhetoric and vocal tenderness of 'Richard In the Age Of The Corporation' with hints of everything from Husker Du's fuzzed splendour to the chiming majesty of The Chameleons it's an empowering listen. The pathos and irony of the glorious track 'The World Doesn't Need Another Band' sets out the band's store, it's a measured and quietly outspoken rant at lacklustre opposition peppered with a gorgeous guitar break. Meanwhile, 'I Only Ever Wanted To See You Fail' rumbles with an Eddie And The Hot Rods pre-punk riff before dissolving into a tale of self-doubt and remorse, bemoaning others' good luck. 'Toxic Friend' is from the book of the TVP's Daniel Treacey with an upbeat chorus that smacks of all that was good in old school indie in a hail of fuzzy logic and guitars. From humble beginnings as a home recording project, The Reds, Pinks and Purples has blossomed into a sporadic live unit with tours on both sides of the Atlantic and appearances at Pitchfork Fest London and Woodsist Fest as well as support slots for indie legends such as Destroyer, Guided By Voices, and The Feelies. "Donaldson's best work hides allure within a bigger picture, like a jangle-pop egg hunt" Pitchfork.

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).

"Prudência / Praga", or "Prudence / Plague", is a double single with these two songs that I composed and which were originally recorded by two of my heroes: Maria Bethânia and Alaíde Costa. Curiously, they are two sambas: although I come from the rock and roll scene in Sao Paulo, I wound up writing a samba as if it were the 50s. At the time of my first heartbreak, at the age of 17, I had the record Jamelao canta Lupicínio with the Orquestra Tabajara on my iPod, and I identified with those dramatic sorrows, almost a hundred years old. In a way, I felt that Lupicínio Rodrigues was bloody and direct, like Tarantino, and Nelson Cavaquinho, heavy metal like Black Sabbath. So, I feel it's a compact 45 of sambas but it's also very Rock n Roll to me. Raw and coming from hell. "Prudência" is that internal battle between the passionate side and the controlling side in the head of the former romantic bohemian. I wrote it for Bethânia to record on her album Noturno. Her version turned into a moving bolero. When I saw her singing it live and the audience singing along with her, I couldn't believe it. I cried, hidden in the audience. She said that when she showed the record to her brother, Caetano Veloso, he thought that "Prudência" was some old classic that she had dug up to bring back to light. Nothing could be a greater compliment than this mistake on Caetano's part. "Praga" also has to do with MPB heroes of mine that I never imagined I'd see up close or have any relationship with or any connection with. I was asked to write these lyrics in partnership with the main man Erasmo Carlos for Alaíde Costa's album! Surreal. Like many people, I got acquainted with Alaíde listening to "Clube da Esquina," her singing with Milton Nascimento. And the idea was to do a poisonous cabaret song samba. The curse of a woman who has dumped a drunk. I love it when Alaíde sings "BIBIDA" in her recording of the song_a total legend. I wanted to produce a kind of horror samba recording, because if it wasn't rock and roll, it wouldn't be much fun for me. I went over to Bielzinho's, and we recorded this chorus that explodes with the percussion and the choir of my friends Tulipa, Maria Beraldo, and Luiza Lian. This take of "Prudência" came from the unpretentiousness of recording two live sessions of the song with Fred Joseph with the cameras of the 70s' program "Ensaio" (MPB Especial) by the great Fernando Faro. The video take ended up being so unexpected and raw that it unseated the studio version, and that's what you hear on the single. The idea behind the video is a sort of this temporal mindfuck; like found lost tapes of the MPB Especial from the early the 70s. Same microphones, same cameras, that zoom_time travel. Between Mil Coisas Invisíveis, the end of the cycle with O Terno, and starting the new album process, I decided to take advantage of the respite to release this rock and roll 45 of sambas, without thinking too much or over-producing the thing. "Prudence? Don't talk to me about prudence!" ;) Tim Bernardes, 2025

Fetter’s Body of Noise erupts at the threshold between ravey hypnosis and avant-pop experiment, slithering through the hinterlands of unconscious desire. Nine shape-shifting tracks conjure haunted landscapes where beauty refuses clarity and dancefloor logic warps underfoot. Vocals swoon, drift, and demand—stacking into fragments that multiply and weave through saturated pulses and shimmering, snarling synths.

Opening track "Like a Rose" traces a dreamer’s transition into the unstable physics of a perplexing but familiar dream world, where they gradually become lucid. “Beast” follows up humming with shadowed urgency, threading a path through self-sabotage and metamorphosis. “Spathiphyllums” drifts a while in a lush lostness, aching for something new before fracturing into wild, cathartic collapse. Side B’s “Do I Exist? (D.I.E)” and “The Longing” spiral into existential wonder, searching for a human origin story—both personal and collective—against a backdrop of uncertainty, while “Headache” thrusts forward as an absurd and insistent manifesto to stay the course and harness one’s own power within the madness.

Body of Noise is crafted not only for sweating bodies in motion, but for distorting time and opening psychic portals, where surrender becomes strategy and uncertainty transforms into ecstatic navigation. Rooted in all-hardware improvised production and shaped by Fetter’s years of boundary-blurring visual and performance art, their debut LP feels alive and in flux. Reminiscent of a spectral pop chorus trapped in a loop of broken machinery, or a lost broadcast from a dancefloor in a parallel realm, Body of Noise is a journey into chaos, transformation, and a bold refusal to be contained.

About Fetter:
Fetter makes clubby self-destructing noise pop to dance and weep to. Oscillating between ethereal and pounding, their all-hardware, largely improvised live sets take listeners through a foggy wilderness of saturated rhythms and menacing synth lines, a golden voice guiding the way through. Fetter is the stage moniker of multimedia artist Jess Tucker. Their performances take place in clubs as well as galleries, often incorporating video, installation, and interactive performance art elements to create other-worldly surrounds of mesmerizingly unhinged bodies and faces.

This is techno stripped to its core - uncompromising, visceral, and engineered for shadowed, late night dancefloors. SOU002 stamps a serious script in the South Signatures arc. Deep reverberations, modular overdrive, chorus tight grooves. Two masters unite for the Coordinated Beatdown EP - a relentless barrage of analog grit and machine smarts. Together: expect seismic kicks, electro acid tension, and flawless modulation.

ORBIT CULTURE läuten eine neue Ära ein. Das Century Media-Debüt des schwedischen Quartetts, "Death Above Life", ist nicht nur ein Statement, wie weit sie es gebracht haben, sondern es ist der Sound von Metal in seiner modernsten Form. "Das Album steht für einen Neuanfang", sagt ORBIT CULTURE-Gitarrist, Sänger und Songwriter Niklas Karlsson. "Es ruft positive und negati-ve Emotionen hervor, aber insgesamt bedeutet es eine Veränderung zum Besseren. Es fühlt sich an wie eine Wiedergeburt." Vom Opener "Inferna" über den stampfenden Titeltrack bis zum melancholischen Schlussstück "The Path I Walk" ist klar: ORBIT CUL-TURE sind in Bestform.
Neben ihrem DIY-Ethos und ihren kompromisslosen Dark-on-Dark-Visuals prägt laut Karlsson seine Vorliebe für Soundtracks und cineastische Soundscapes ihren Sound und Vision. Komponisten wie Hans Zimmer (Dune, Interstellar) und Howard Shore (Der Herr der Ringe) hätten einen großen Einfluss auf die Band. "Wahrscheinlich deutlich mehr als aktueller Metal", sagt Niklas. "Jeder von uns würde sich lieber den Soundtrack von 'Inception' anhören, weil er zeitlos ist. Wenn ich beim Schreiben nicht wei-terkomme, bieten mir z.B. Cello oder Klavier neue Möglichkeiten. Wir schreiben einfache Riffs und Strukturen, und wenn wir uns dabei von einem Künstler wie Hans Zimmer inspirieren lassen, kommt ein Song wie 'Inferna' heraus, weil wir den Chorus größer und cineastischer machen."
Produziert von der Band und gemixt von Buster Odeholm (Vildhjarta, Humanity's Last Breath, Thrown), ist "Death Above Life" ein Statement für den Metal, seine Gegenwart und Zukunft. Es ist ein entscheidender nächster Schritt für ORBIT CULTURE, da sie sich selbst und Metal als Ganzes frischer definieren. "Wir spielen Metal", sagt Karlsson. "Wir haben Einflüsse von Djent, von Me-talcore und melodischem Death Metal. Wir bleiben uns selbst treu, und ich denke, die Leute sind genau danach hungrig."
"Death Above Life" ist erhältlich als: Ltd. CD Digipak, Gatefold 2LP, Digital Album.

"Pop" is a tag that's been assigned to Minus The Bear throughout their career. It's been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It's also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it's a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Now celebrating its 10-year anniversary and first time in print since 2011, Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear's first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track "Fine + 2 Points" remains one of the band's strongest opening tracks in their discography,charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Outta My Head". If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with "Let's Play Clowns" and "Dog Park" - nods to Highly Refined Pirates' formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider's lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus The Bear's original trademark version of pop, but on songs like "I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien" the band eschews it's restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that's inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out "Pony Up!" the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus The Bear's first two full-lengths transpire within under half-an-hour, with the their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn't fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus The Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century.

Formed in Brussels in 2017, Milk TV has drunk from many sources, quenching an enormous thirst for inspiration to create a singular universe, imbued with nostalgia and cynicism towards Anglo-Saxon pop culture. That of cheap TV programs, giant milk bottle ads, but above all of the underground, from New York no-wave to the Californian noise scene. With "NEO GEO", a new album on Brussels label EXAG' Records, the trio take their music to even more versatile playgrounds, an art-rock kaleidoscope, perhaps more intuitive and effective than its predecessor. While the band's trademark bass chorus and jerky rhythms with a hint of exotica are still present, some tracks give way to a more punky, immediate energy.

On his new album All Cylinders, Yves Jarvis expresses a brazen songcraft and pure musicianship. 11 tracks he played himself, without a single additional contributor, transforming his now four-time-Polaris-nominated vision into the stuff of verses and choruses, hooks and hits, vibrating like a cosmic anthropology. Whereas once he had fetishized analog tape, now Jarvis appreciated the value of working without any such preciousness: much of All Cylinders was recorded on bare-bones Audacity, sans plugins, channeling the spirit of Paul McCartney’s II.

Jarvis is an omnivore, and All Cylinders smashes together a stunning array of influences: Serge Gainsbourg, Judee Sill, Sheryl Crow, Captain Beefheart, Jackson Browne, Throbbing Gristle, Ray Charles, Brian Eno, Fleetwood Mac… All distilled into tunes that feel like taking sips from a cup, or drags from a cigarette. Vivid and self-contained songs that are just two or three minutes long. “I feel like this is the least contrived thing I’ve ever done,” Jarvis declares. Lyrics that matter. Vocals up front, where people will actually hear them. “If something’s true to you,” he explains, “it’s probably true to a million other people.”

The first run of All Cylinders on limited edition vinyl sold out, leading to this highly anticipated second pressing. This edition includes 4 bonus tracks from the forthcoming deluxe release, making it an essential piece for fans and collectors alike. Originally released via In Real Life to critical acclaim from Pitchfork, Financial Times, NPR, Aquarium Drunkard, Far Out Magazine, New Noise, Out Front, KCRW, RANGE, Atwood Magazine, The Luna Collective, Billboard Canada, The Fader, Blamo! Podcast, Stereogum, and Guitar World.

Human Leather have always been a ferocious live act, unbelievably loud for a 2 piece. Their gigs are often an overwhelming wall of sludge, howls and amphetamine-addled drums, with spectators flying joyously around the pit. Previous recordings did full justice to the impact of the live show; however, the second helping is something else. On Here Comes the Mind, There Goes the Body the sludge is still present, rising, and lapping at your ankles, but there's a new clarity showing off exactly how f*cking good those riffs are. There are ear worm riffs for days, shout along vocals that roar, shriek and reform into a Greek chorus, drums that thump you repeatedly in the chest and then the whole thing vanishes in just under 30 minutes, leaving you bruised, deafened and with Some Questions about your life. Squint your ears a bit and you'll hear the influences of bands like Karp, Torche and Big Business but they're thrown into a much crustier stew. The lyrics span a variety of political issues, not limited to the landed gentry, global warming and consumerist harbingers of doom. Importantly the songs are also not afraid to discuss class issues (unlike many political bands who you suspect have a much sturdier security net). While this could easily feel preachy, every line is delivered with the knowing wink of the underdog and good humour (I am going to smile every time I think of "clod damn" or "QVC Hands" staring up at me from the lyric sheet), and the vibes are as they've always been in difficult times - "we know we're fucked, tonight we mosh, tomorrow we march". And what is the point of a revolution you can't dance to? Speaking of dancing, the final track features an honest-to-god dance beat, acid squelches and disembodied vocal samples, pointing to an alternative universe in which Human Leather are a heavy electroclash band. Here comes the record of the year, bring what is left of your eardrums. You didn't need that body anyway

DK takes ‘em to church! The connections between Black Gospel traditions and dance music are strong and deep, and in this latest masterclass from the Mr. K Edits series Danny Krivit explores two under-the-radar but powerful examples. After the success of his disco-funk hit ‘This Feelin’, the Washington DC-based Frank Hooker turned from the club to the chapel, releasing a full-length album of worship music set to the early ’80s sound of post-disco boogie. ‘Rise and Shine’ is a clear precursor to piano house — full of energy and giving all the hands in the air vibes of the best gospel. Danny’s edit extends the too short original and adds a sneaky isolation of the chorus vocals for an extra theatrical touch. Also hailing from the DC area, Lafreda’s ‘Church Girl Church’ is a quirky 12-inch from 1983 that has remained largely undiscovered, just the sort of left-field pick you’d expect the deep digging Krivit to have lurking in his crates. Mr. K’s edit melds Lafreda’s impassioned vocals with the stomping dub version to create an unexpectedly powerful cut that is the very embodiment of fierce.

Star Feminine Band, hardest working women in Beninese show business, are releasing their third album on Born Bad, who went all out for their first. Some get malaria at the sight of that sticky world label : rest assured, the world is all they deserve after nine years of hard work. These eight young women, from a village that even Beninese can't quite place, started out in hard mode.

They had to convince themselves that it was worth a shot, but also their family, their village and an entire continent.

André Balaguemon, composer, manager and lyricist, does a lot, while remaining in the background. He put the group together, included his three daughters, houses everyone with his wife Edwige who also manages dances and costumes. He gave them a musical training, and created the framework for them to continue school while rehearsing hard. From local heroes to UNICEF ambassadors, the group has made it. The very existence of this new album is a testament to the perseverance of Grâce, Anne, Urrice, Bénie, Angélique, Sandrine, Julienne and Ashley. The personnel of this family affair has changed a bit : two new women have joined the group, which conquered bigger stages (Glastonbury in the summer, the X-mas BBC special).



This new album brings simple joys : watching them grow from Benin's first girl band to a band in its own right. And never forgetting why they took to the stage in the first place. Star Feminine Band makes straightforward music, taking no detours to express what's missing in the country. When Grâce advocates for kids getting a chance to get to school it's because there's nothing else more important to say that day. Teachers, don’t leave the kids alone, after all.



As they said on their first album, « music is our job », let them be that : musicians having a lot of fun on this album. It wanders through the vast territory of the countless West African styles. They even make a quick foray into reggae to talk about marriage (with a little rap thrown in), and interweave their voices in multiple languages (Waama, Ditamari, Bariba, Fon, Yoruba). And boy do they have hits. To each is own, but “L'enfant c'est un don de Dieu » (Child is god’s gift) is a mighty steamroller, methodically smoothing out the ground for dancing together to its final chorus, singing « debout-les-en-fants / get up, kids ! » along.



Smoother than the first two albums, supported by fine arrangements, ambitious keyboard parts and more complex vocal harmonies without losing any of their spontaneity, this third opus quietly adds to Benin's musical heritage. As they make clear in « Jusqu'au bout du monde », clever little number that we can already hear swelling up on stage: « oui, c’est Star Feminine Band qui a gagné - o / Star Feminine Band won».

The album introduced a lush, complex dream world that the singer, composer, and producer created and inhabited largely on her own. She produced all the songs, and wrote and performed everything on the self-released collection outside of a re-imagined cover of Pink Floyd’s “Green is the Colour” and 2 other tracks (“The Time,” “Give It Back To You”), which started as instrumentals written by Survive’s Kyle Dixon (who composed the Stranger Things soundtrack with his bandmate Michael Stein), to which Ainsworth wrote melodies and added lyrics. Ainsworth, who’s relocated to Los Angeles from Toronto since 2017’s Darling of the Afterglow, explains that the collection revealed itself to her “as a play taking place in Mother Nature’s vanishing home,” aka Phantom Forest, and that she’s singing from 3 perspectives: herself, Mother Nature, and Greek Chorus. For instance, of the album’s opener, “Diamonds Cutting Diamonds,” she explains: “The Greek Chorus sets the scene, narrating and offering direction on how to enter Phantom Forest. It’s my hope that the listener will imagine the narration to be directed to them as well, as they begin the journey of the album.” You’ll get a sense of this from the collection’s edenic cover art and the playful, pastoral video for the album’s first single, “Can You Find Her Place.” Its inspiration came from Ainsworth’s love for Italian Renaissance painter Botticelli’s 15-century masterpiece “Primavera,” an allegorical representation of the burgeoning fertility of the earth in spring. She notes: “The video features the Greek gods of the painting in a choreographed Baroque style dance.” Keeping with the personal feel of the collection, her sister Abby Ainsworth directed the clip. In line with the classical and historical depths of Phantom Forest, Ainsworth, who holds a Masters Degree in film scoring composition from NYU and studied composition as an undergrad at McGill, notes that although the album might be considered pop, she approached it as an orchestrator. “Even if I’m dealing purely with synths,” she says, “The songs are like a score, each one an evolving journey. I love to use strings so I’ve included my string arrangements on ‘Tell Me I Exist’ and ‘Can You Find Her Place.’ I recorded live musicians on drums, bass, and guitar on ‘Edge of the Throne,’ ‘The Time,’ and ‘Floating Dream,’ and wove those live elements into my programmed elements.” Phantom Forest is a beautiful, vast collection that mixes the historical and the hands on, with hooks about the apocalypse and people obsessively using face-recognition software to see what paintings their face match with, in search of some kind of connection. It’s a journey that holds up to close listening (and lyric reading) and to dance floors, but that can also exist on a purely emotional plane. In all cases, it asks that you listen, and take some kind of action.

“'Lyceum' is a fountainhead of unqualified greatness. It’s a strange, sad sound harking back to old school tunesmanship – Aztec Camera, ‘Rattlesnakes’, prime-time Felt – but the whole affair is permeated with a resonant, almost tearful quality. ‘Lyceum’ is reminiscent of Galaxie 500’s ‘Today’ in that it sounds like it cost less than a round of drinks to produce. But the lo fi sound merely enhances the misty glazed-pop sound and raises the hallelujah choruses to the forefront. Rather than drowning them in production mush. Don’t pass it by”.
– Bob Stanley, Melody Maker 1989
Hailing from the suburbs of Glasgow, this five-piece are best known for their three starry-eyed albums on the renowned Sarah Records - this being an expanded version of their first (an eight-track 10” at the time).
By the tail end of the 1980s the independent music scene in the UK was turning its back on the polish and over-indulgence of the mid-80s with its gated drums and wallpaper production. And those who weren’t stretching the boundaries of sonic innovation had tuned back to the post-punk ethos of ramshackle charm and zealous melody, even dousing the spirit with some political fervour once more. Influences were more likely to be Television and the Television Personalities than MTV.
The Orchids and The Sea Urchins were the first two bands to release 7” singles on the Sarah label having previously begun their recording existence on a shared flexi disc in 1987 (The Sea Urchins went on to become Delta, whose classic album ‘Slippin' Out’ from 2000 will be the second release on Circuitry). The Scottish five-piece released ‘I’ve Got a Habit’ and ‘Underneath the Window, Underneath the Sink’ as EPs before really finding their feet with ‘Lyceum’; the tracks, remastered from the original Toad Hall tapes are included on this reissue as are the three songs from the ‘What Will We Do Next?’ 7” (this collection closes with the frazzled stretch that is ‘Yawn’). 'Lyceum' was originally released in August 1989.
The album opens with ‘It’s Only Obvious’ and its gloriously youthful chorus of “who needs tomorrow when all I need, all I needed was you”. James Hackett somehow appears both forthright and rejected, something that one of their musical heroes The Go-Betweens also had down to a fine art. It barely takes a breath until midway through side two where ‘Hold On’ (sounding suspiciously like an unlikely objective) descends into the intro of ‘Blue Light’, the counted-in ‘1, 2, 3, 4’ whispered like the most hopelessly dejected rally. If that sounds depressing it isn’t. This record by The Orchids was a spirited source of comfort for an 18 year old at the time and still shudders with the best type of melancholy, one that’s spirited not indulgent. If you’re not familiar with the band’s charm, this is where you should begin.
'Lyceum' is released on double black vinyl by new label Circuitry.

The latest by Andrew Clinco's acid punk alias VR SEX takes its title from an architectural phrase but more importantly refers to the warped, wicked underworld the songs both chronicle and condemn. Donning the moniker Noel Skum - an acerbic anagram of Elon Musk - Clinco vents his scorn for and fascination with the seedy, surreal margins of low-life Los Angeles, doomed to dead ends of vanity, lust, and technology. Although initially launched as an outlet for "heavier sounds" beyond Clinco's duties in new wave fantasists Drab Majesty, the project has ripened into a compelling exercise in world building, weaving themes of gritty city neofuturist sleaze within a framework of driving, distorted guitars and cathode-blasted synths. Echoes of Chrome, Wire, Minimal Man, and Sisters Of Mercy ripple through the collection but ultimately Rough Dimension charts its own twisted vision of "our unforgiving reality." Written and demoed across two weeks alone in a Marseille flat using his prized 1980's Gibson "Invader" and a laptop, Clinco then took the tracks to Strange Weather studios in Brooklyn to record with Ben Greenberg (Uniform, The Men) who helmed 2019's debut, Human Traffic Jam. The results are notably ripping, refined, and riveting. Riffs in alternate tunings chug and churn over mid-tempo drums punctuated by spikes of sci-fi electronics while the vocals swagger and spit venom ("where we walk is also where we shit / but if we bark at our reflections are we hypocrites? / impulses bleed right into our seed / where hate culminates the apple rotted on the tree"). It's a bristling mix of the melodic and the macabre, absurdist observations of fast living and desperate measures, the clock of youth ticking towards midnight as dreams unravel in Babylon. VR SEX's specialty is making these cautionary tales of psychic decay and tainted love a thrill rather than a drag. There's a sunglasses at night glamor to Clinco's choruses and solos, a wit to his black leather judgements ("what is the answer / to cancerous people / walking in my line of sight?"). The music's milieu tends towards parasites and predators but its mood skews refreshingly accelerated and amused, cruising the strip with a cigarette, watching goths and limousines crawl in gridlock beneath digital billboards. The Rough Dimension may be a cesspool, but it's home.

Charles Aznavour schuf mit seinem außergewöhnlichen Talent Werke, deren Originalität ein großes Publikum verführten. Seine Einflüsse waren vielfältig – armenische Familie, jüdische Kindheit, Idole, die Jazzmusiker waren und Mentoren des Chansons. Dieser illustrierte Bildband samt LP vereint 14 Highlights seiner Frühzeit, in der er sein Temperament formte, sein Talent verfeinerte und seinen eigenen Weg aus Rhythmus, Sinnlichkeit und Nostalgie fand. Aznavour bleibt mit über 100 Millionen Verkäufen der bekannteste französische Sänger der Welt.

ALL and the Descendents hit you square in the jaw with this live trade. The band has always dealt with issues in their own way. They attack subjects at the core of social, political and cultural concerns: drugs ("World"s On Heroin"), our corporate-dominated society ("Educated Idiot") and religion ("Crucifixion," with its repeating chorus of "Hypocrite! Hypocrite!" and further indictment with "praise the Lord, pass the ammunition!"). ALL then proves they can segue effortlessly to somewhat lighter matters like relationships ("Breakin" Up," "She"s My Ex") with full irony in tact. Why, they nearly approach boy-band sensitivity with the tender yet thumping "Until I Say So" and the unabashed love song "Teresa." "ALL Live + One" is a must for ALL Descendents fans.

Improving on their very fine, self-titled debut album, their latest, Sing Sing Death House, is battle-scarred and resolute, but Brody"s tough voice is more expressive than your average punker"s and especially affecting when she flaunts the full range of her throaty snarl. On "Seneca Falls," an appreciation of the women"s suffrage movement set to chugging guitars and a thumpity-thump bass, there"s an exceptional, goosebump-inducing though unintelligible chorus, which soars above the music because of the emotional quality of Brody"s howl. Otherwise, the music is quite stirring, coming from a gang of gutter-punks with lip piercings.

Words from the label:

Having made its mark with a strong debut outing by Jon E, Natural Element returns with a 12” single from the seasoned and versatile Amsterdam producer Kid Sublime. With previous releases on Kindred Spirits, Jazzy Sport and Co-Op, to name a few, this release serves as a little taster to an exciting full-length project to follow in the coming months. The featured track ‘You Got Me Runnin’ is a blissful piece of uptempo soul delivered straight from the heart, with a warm, infectious bounce and synths that cut deep. Georgian/American singer-songwriter Bako features on vocals with a smooth and subtle delivery that adds an extra layer of beauty, alongside Kid himself on the chorus.

The EP sees remixes from West London’s WheelUP, who has been steadily making his unique mark on the broken beat scene for the past few years, and fellow Amsterdam producer on the rise, Mo Wrights, who takes the energy up a notch delivering a raw and captivating arrangement for the dancefloor.

Hugely prolific American ambient artist and analogue drone don zake is back once again with some new re-imaginings of works from a wide range of artists from glitch-pop to post-rock. His singular sound is imprinted on all of the source material which becomes defined by dusty texture and frayed edges as he layers up immersive, meditative soundscapes such as highlights like a haunting take on Beno�t Pioulard's 'Xaipe,' the luminous 'Nicotiana Suite' with Pausal and a poignant reshaping of Inquiri's 'They Come Around.' Each remix reflects zake's deep respect for the originals while also adding something wholly his own.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

Joe Hisaishis neues Album wurde Live in Tokyo in der renommierten Suntory Hall am 31. Juli 2024
aufgenommen. Zu hören ist die japanische Erstaufführung von „The Desert Music“ von Steve Reich,
einem Freund und Kollegen Hisaishis sowie „The End of the World“, ein eigenes Werk des japanischen
Komponisten. Aufgeführt wurden die Stücke vom Future Orchestra Classics unter der Leitung des Maestros.
Dieses Orchester wurde von Hisaishi gegründet, um sein Interesse an klassischer Musik mit anderen zu teilen.
Es ist ein Orchester junger Musiker, das für seine lebendigen, ausdrucksstarken Interpretationen sowohl des
Kernrepertoires als auch zeitgenössischer Werke bekannt ist. Die Vocalpartien wurden vom Philharmonic
Chorus of Tokyo und, in „The End of the World“, von der Sopranistin Ella Taylor gesungen.

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

Alanis Morissette Delivers the Equivalent of a Spiritual Awakening on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie:
Introspective Themes and Compassionate Emotions on Eastern-Tinged Album Have Grown More Relevant
1998 Smash Plays with Enhanced Detail, Rich Textures, and Sharp Focus on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set:
First-Ever Audiophile Edition Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies
1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Alanis Morissette refuses to adhere to convention on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. While most artists follow-up their breakthrough with an album that closely parallels the approaches that helped make them famous, the maverick singer-songwriter stayed true to herself and drew inspiration from travel to India before she began the recording sessions. As much as the preceding Jagged Little Pill put her on the global radar, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie confirmed her role as a vital generational voice — and proved her blockbuster success was no fluke. Having set a mark for most sales of an LP in its debut week by a female artist, the 1998 smash remains a pop-rock staple.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie presents the triple-platinum LP in audiophile sound for the first time. Benefitting from defined grooves that befit the album’s nearly 72-minute length, this pressing plays with enhanced detail, refined clarity, sharper focus, and broader dynamics than prior versions.

Those traits are key given Morissette’s use of more textured and atmospheric soundscapes, not to mention her evolution into a more nuanced and controlled singer. Similarly, the scale and reach of David Campbell’s string arrangements come across as orchestrations should. Ditto the synth-based architecture shaped by producer and principal Morissette collaborator Glen Ballard. All in all, Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition simply delivers more information via transparent means.

Notable for its balance, sophistication, and richness, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie at heart finds Morissette pausing, taking a breath, and learning how to navigate life in a healthy manner after enduring one of the most exhausting and rocket-to-fame stretches any musician ever experienced. It’s the sonic equivalent of a spiritual awakening, a call to betterment, a brave assessment of the self and humanity as a whole. As such, the tunes on her second international (and fourth Canadian) release teem with gratitude, compassion, love, empathy — emotions that lend themselves to the largely mellow, contoured scope and Eastern-tinged melodies of the songs themselves.

“How ‘bout how good it feels to finally forgive you,” Morissette sings on the lead single “Thank U.” “How ‘bout grieving it all one at a time.” Those sentiments, and the vocalist’s embrace of concepts such as divinity and acceptance, not only provide a foundation on which Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie rests. They also reflect the personal maturation she gained from her embrace of Buddhist culture in India and a mindset bent toward notions of reconciliation, peace, and sensuality that were nearly absent in popular music in the late ‘90s.

Those themes continue on “That I Would Be Good,” a confident reflection that takes stock of one’s mental, physical, and emotional state in the face of both changing and unpleasant circumstances — and concludes with Morissette performing a flute solo, further exposing the raw intimacy of the introspective tune. She channels relatable simplicity and joy on “So Pure,” with her invocations of “dance” and “freestyle” speaking to the freedom of expression that courses throughout Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. And perhaps no song finds Morissette showcasing her refreshed attitude toward life and opening up more than the relationship-themed “Unsent,” whose unconventional structures and lack of a chorus only add to its directness.

Akin to many albums that were ahead of their time, and despite the critical and commercial accolades afforded it upon release, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie attracted new appreciation and perspective as it got older. Issued during an era where its ideas of serenity, absolution, tranquility, and contentment seemed largely alien, the record — akin to the ways its predecessor foreshadowed a movement — now functions as a visionary beacon that foretells of way to maintain sanity, dignity, and goodness amid a contemporary landscape filled with constant distractions, polarizing views, and incessant calls to purchase, promote, and produce without questioning the what-for purpose.

Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie dares to ask the questions and, at its best, supplies meaningful answers and alternatives that lead to longed-for enlightenment, healing, and laughter. For these reasons alone, it’s a record that never goes out of style.

Experience the Double-Platinum 1996 Album in Audiophile Sound for the First Time
Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Is Sourced from the Original Analogue Tapes
1/2” / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

If great art, as many believe, is inherently polarizing, then the Stone Temple Pilots’ Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop easily ranks as the California-based band’s finest album. Simultaneously celebrated and castigated upon release in spring 1996, the group’s third full-length finds vocalist Scott Weiland and company expanding their “grunge” palette with a smart blend of glam rock, psychedelia, jangle pop, and other related styles. Having benefited from long-view reassessments that shed the biases and meanness of initial criticisms, the double-platinum effort is now largely and rightly seen as a creative masterwork. All the more reason why it deserves reference-grade production.

Overseen by producer Brendan O’Brien, Stone Temple Pilots used bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, and the lawn to capture a broad blend of textures, spaciousness, and ambience that helped underline the group’s obvious (and somewhat unexpected) leap from normal “alternative” status to an artist whose aspirations went beyond that of many of its contemporaries. You can hear the multitude of details and tonalities with previously unattained clarity, presence, and scope on this fantastic reissue, which also delivers the impact and punch every rock record deserves. Another tremendous asset: The depth, grain, and pitch of Weiland’s voice.

For all the contagious choruses and glossy melodies that help make Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sparkle, the vocal performances of the late singer arguably rank as the best that the much-missed Weiland committed to tape. None other than the Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan — who, like many peers and critics, felt a pressing need to reevaluate the record as both time marched on and the self-importance attached to the “alternative” scene faded — praised Weiland’s efforts by noting: “Like Bowie can and does, it was Scott's phrasing that pushed his music into a unique, and hard to pin down, aesthetic sonicsphere.”

Smooth and diverse, those traits are everywhere on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop. From the clever combination of emotional closeness and distance he brings to the catchy albeit ultimately melancholic “Lady Picture Show”; to the lounge-fly balladeering that causes “And So I Know” to lightly swing akin to a bleary-eyed house band’s final number at a 4 A.M. bar; to the effortless cool and laissez-faire casualness he articulates on the grinding “Pop’s Love Suicide”; to the dimensional raspiness, defiant energy, and let-loose wail that sail through the crunchy “Big Bang Baby.”

The latter tune, the record’s first single and per Weiland a conscious attempt by the band to deconstruct its prior approaches, clearly borrows from the Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” Because of it, the song drew all kinds of barbs from naysayers. Their disdain extended to most material on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop, which indirectly references other prized acts such as the Beatles, Cheap Trick, T. Rex, and Lush. Those cynics failed to grasp that Stone Temple Pilots were paying homage and having a blast, with even Weiland, then battling serious substance-abuse and legal issues, getting in on the action.

Stone Temple Pilots’ skeptics also turned a deaf ear to the records’ stellar pop craftsmanship, sticky hooks, and sly commentary on music-industry machinations and fame. Not to mention the band’s intent, made clear from the outset. In an interview conducted in 1994, guitarist Robert DeLeo stated: “The last thing I wanted to do with this band was make everybody believe we invented something.”

Seen through that lens and the hindsight afforded history, and appreciated independent of the self-righteous authenticity standards of the day, Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sounds borderline fearless while authoritatively checking all the right boxes for fun, flavor, and finesse. Part winking send-up, part tribute to the glitter rock age, and part middle finger towards the hip crowd that didn’t know what they were missing, this mid-90s classic repeatedly invites you to drop the needle and press play.

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?