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ALTER is proud to present ‘Tendrils’, the first LP release from London based artist & musician Malvern Brume. After gathering some hushed praise from the UK underground for a couple of excellent cassette releases and strong local live performances, ‘Tendrils’ is the first definitive document of the Malvern Brume sound world. His instrumentation and sound sources would be considered familiar staples in the world of “experimental” music, but Salter does an admirable job of making them his own. Comprised of 8 pieces, this is electronic music at its core but a kind that sounds as if it’s being played through fog. Like spores growing on a damp surface. Densely composed and thick with an almost asphyxiating atmosphere - even during the record’s more minimal moments - track titles like ‘Caught In The Exhaust Trails’ and ‘Sunk Into Plastics’ only heighten the tone further.

Salter was originally born in the countryside and since relocated to London, a place he finds “over stimulating in every sense”. Much of ‘Tendrils’ could be taken as a response to the city and a means of equating the two. Camberwell is listed as the location for composition, but field recordings are attributed to rural landmarks. The Rollright Stones on the Oxfordshire / Warwickshire border and Seven Sisters Cliffs by the English Channel are two in case, but despite their picturesque origins Salter renders them into abstract clatter. As if dubbed from the private tape archive of an old eccentric. In addition, synthesised electronic tones hum and buzz, occasionally giving away to strange, slurring sequences that sound like lost transmissions from the radiophonic workshop. Despite the nod to this electronic music institution, it’s lacking the sincere level of esteem that can turn one into a heritage act. There is a strangeness and distant other worldliness to the music that feels unselfconscious and keeps Malvern Brume from being easy to define by contemporary terms.

Salter says the album is defined by movement and the environments that have inspired him over the years. In his own words, “each of these tracks is inspired by a journey or moving through a space, not in a wishy-washy cosmic sense but more as a practical A to B.” With that in mind, ‘Tendrils’ is perfect music for solitary inner-city marshland walks and urban bike rides to forgotten local suburbs.

Driving anywhere in Texas can cost you half a day, easy. For example, it'll take you over four hours just to get from R&B singer Leon Bridges' hometown of Fort Worth down to Houston, where the psychedelic wanderers in Khruangbin hail from. The state is vast, crisscrossed with rugged expanses of road flanked by limestone cliffs and granite mountains, forests of pine and mesquite, miles of desert or acres of sprawling grassland, all depending on what part you're in. And it's all baking under the Texas Sun that lends its name to Bridges and Khruangbin's new collaborative EP. "Big sky country, that's what they call Texas," Khruangbin bassist Laura Lee says. "The horizon line goes all the way from one side to another without interruption. There's something really comforting about that." On Texas Sun, these two members of the state's musical vanguard meet up somewhere in the middle of that scene, in the mythical nexus of Texas' past, present, and future-a dreamy badlands where genres blur as seamlessly as the terrain. It calls equally to the cowboys boot-scooting at Billy Bob's in Fort Worth, the chopped-and-screwed hip-hop fans rattling slabs on the southside of Houston, the art-school kids dropping acid in Austin, the cross-cultural progeny who grew up on listening to both mariachi and post-hardcore out on the Mexican borders of El Paso. All of these things, overlapping in a multicolored melange, purple hues as vivid and unpredictable as one of the state's rightfully celebrated sunsets. A journey through homesick reminiscences, backseat romances, and late-night contemplations, the kind of record made for listening with the windows down and the road humming softly beneath you. Like the highways that inspired it, Texas Sun is guaranteed to get you where you're going-especially if you're in no particular hurry to get there.

Fusing hard bop and soul jazz and to create a seriously funky concoction, alto saxist Lou Donaldson’s classic 1967 soul-jazz album gets a vinyl reissue, his 16th and funkiest Blue Note record. Recorded at The Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, on 7 April 1967. Featuring the young George Benson on guitar, plus Lonnie Smith on organ, Melvin Lasite on cornet and Leo Morris (AKA Idris Muhammad) on drums. Features the classic title track plus two other superb Donaldson originals (‘The Thang’, ‘Rev Moses’), plus Lonnie Smith’s effervescent ‘Aw Shucks’. A breezy, uplifting funk-fest from start to finish, with good grooves and great solos. The beginning of a long and fruitful partnership between Lou Donaldson and Lonnie Smith. Featuring a classic cover design by Reid Miles and liner notes by Del Shields.

The  Hammond organist’s classic 1968 album. His second record for Blue Note. Recorded at the Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, on 23rd July 1968. Produced by Blue Note co-founder Francis Wolff. Featuring an all-star unit including Lee Morgan (trumpet), David ‘Fathead’ Newman (tenor sax) and Melvin Sparks (guitar). Kicks off with the hard-driving Hugh Masekela composition ‘Song Of Ice Bag’, and continues with a take on ‘Three Blind Mice’, a brilliant version of the title track, made famous by Aretha Franklin, and two more Latin-tinged Smith originals (‘ The Call Of The Wild’, ‘Slouchin’’). Includes liner notes written by Rhett Evers.

Recorded on 27th May 1965 at the Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey.Recorded right in the middle of Dexter’s golden Blue Note period. Featuring an all-star band of Freddie Hubbard (trumpet), Barry Harris (piano), Bob Cranshaw (bass) and Billy Higgins (drums). Dexter’s take on the famous ballad ‘I’m A Fool To Want You’ has become one of his trademark pieces. Elsewhere, the album features three fine Dexter originals (‘Hanky Panky’, ‘Jodi’ and the title track) plus ‘Devilette’ and ‘Lady Iris B’.

The guitarist’s acclaimed 1961 debut. Recorded at the Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, on 28th January 1961. Featuring Baby Face Willette (organ) and Ben Dixon (drums). A smouldering soul-jazz/organ trio classic. Featuring three Green originals (‘Miss Ann’s Tempo’, ‘Blues For Willarene’, ‘A Wee Bit O’ Green’), one Willette tune (‘Baby’s Minor Lope’) and two standards (‘Ain’t Nobody’s Business If I Do’, ‘Lullaby Of The Leaves’).
Cover photographed by Francis Wolff and designed by Reid Miles.
The first of Green’s 30 Blue Note solo albums and over 30 appearances as a sideman.

The trumpet/flugelhorn legend’s 1960 album. Recorded at the Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, on 19th June 1960. Featuring Tina Brooks (tenor sax), McCoy Tyner (piano), Sam Jones (bass) and Clifford Jarvis (drums). Features classic self-penned pieces such as the title track and ‘Hub’s Nub’, plus unique takes on the standards ‘But Beautiful’, ‘All Or Nothing At All’ and ‘One Mint Julep’. Produced by Blue Note co-founder Alfred Lion.
The famous album cover designed and photographed by other co-founder Francis Wolff.
Liner notes by the much-respected, recently-deceased jazz writer Ira Gitler.

Alt. folker Will Oldham - better known as Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - is set to drop a joint record with gently psychedelic crew Trembling Bells

Just four years after their debut album Carbeth, Trembling Bells are amassing a formidable body of work at a startling velocity. Just twelve months after the release of their critically acclaimed third album The Constant Pageant, the Glasgow quartet return to share the billing with a similarly restless creative spirit. A few thousand miles separate Will Oldham and Trembling Bells' drummer and principal songwriter Alex Neilson, but their stories intersect as far back as 2005, when the young Leeds-raised Neilson found himself playing drums on Alasdair Roberts' No Earthly Man, with Oldham producing. In time, a friendship between mentor and student became one between two kindred musicians. Neilson augmented his work with free-psych-drone practitioners Directing Hand by playing with the Bonnie 'Prince' Billy band. The drummer's eagerness to experience new epiphanies yielded unforgettable memories. In Big Sur, he recalls, 'we took mushrooms at midnight, then visited a natural hot spring built into the dramatic cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The stars were as vivid as frozen fireworks.' All of which is worth dwelling on, because without that background of mutual openness and empathy, it's hard to imagine The Marble Downs existing.

Neilson recalls a conversation about a 'collaboration' in the summer of 2010, though stresses that it 'was nothing too formal at first'. By the end of that year, a limited-edition seven-inch New Year's Eve Is The Loneliest Night of the Year showed what an inspired match the vocals of Trembling Bells singer Lavinia Blackwall and Will Oldham made. The cut-glass precision of the classically-trained student of medieval music and the worldly, careworn tones of Oldham created an unlikely chemistry. It must have seemed that way to Neilson too. He set about assembling a cache of songs with the purpose of further harnessing that chemistry. The result is an album that has, once again, redrafted the boundaries of what Trembling Bells can achieve together. Indeed, genre-lines aren't terribly helpful this time around. Yes, Trembling Bells' love affair with traditional music remains a constant — most emphatically so on the unaccompanied Blackwall/Oldham two-hander, My Husband's Got No Courage In Him. Then there is Blackwall's musical setting of Dorothy Parker's poem Excursion Into Assonance — and the thorough-going new-found classicism of Neilson's increasingly assured songwriting. Albeit delivered with Trembling Bells' rain-lashed sense of abandon, Love Is A Velvet Noose sounds like a standard of sorts — a warped consequence of Neilson's increasing fascination with the songbooks of Cole Porter and Hoagy Carmichael. 'I'm not saying I stand any chance of emulating them,' he adds, 'but the appreciation is definitely there.'

The knowledge that Oldham and Blackwall would be sharing centre-stage on The Marble Downs gave Neilson extra impetus to flex his songwriting muscles. I Can Tell You're Leaving finds both vocalists on irresistible form, dissecting their dying relationship with no heed to the other's feelings. 'You treat me like a child,' sings Oldham. 'I need a man,' she responds, barely catching breath. 'Now like Merle Haggard, you'll see the fighting side of me,' he later promises. 'I guess that's one of the lighter moments on the album,' ponders Neilson, 'I was trying to get a Planet Waves-era Bob Dylan feel there, with the piano and walking bassline.'

Here and elsewhere, the band — Blackwall, Neilson, bassist Simon Shaw and guitarist Mike Hastings — has never sounded more psychically attuned to one-other. On the slow-reveal sonic establishing shot of I Made A Date (With An Open Vein), two minutes of manic modal chaos elapses before Oldham takes the narrative reins of a majestic call-and-response folk-rock epic. The electrifying free-folk portent of Riding — a revival of the Palace Brothers classic — is no less compelling, calling to mind the words of broadcaster Stuart Maconie when he praised Trembling Bells for their ability to invoke simultaneously 'the charm of folk music and the power of rock.' Ditto Ain't Nothing Wrong With A Little Longing, in which Neilson slams down a four-to-the-floor beat over a synergy of demonic krautrock keys and a dialogue between Oldham and Blackwall that scales Nancy & Lee levels of romantic intrigue.

With nine songs gone and one remaining, the album's sonic undulations find an arresting denouement in the form of an inspired cover. Adapted from Robin Gibb's 1970 solo masterpiece Robin's Reign, Lord Bless All sees Trembling Bells tease out the hymnal qualities of Gibb's original with a slow volcanic upswell which — on four minutes — explodes into heavy psychedelic technicolour. What pleases Alex Neilson when he listens back is 'a sense of a common vocabulary and identity being forged.' If, by that, he means that there isn't another band on the planet that quite sounds like Trembling Bells, it would be hard to disagree. The evidence is right here.

'I didn't know anything about Trembling Bells. I just heard them and was knocked out. I instantly became a fan.' Paul Weller

'Trembling Bells are my kind of band.' Joe Boyd

"Jesus fucking shit! These jamz claw so hard at the tatties below methinks the Lord misnamed them, having intended to say Trembling BALLS." Will Oldham

'A poetic incantation of British identity far brighter than Michael Gove's GCSE syllabus.' Stewart Lee

'This time, I'm attempting to reclaim the art of songwriting from the charity shop bargain bin.' Alex Neilson

Andrew Wasylyk is the alias of Scottish writer, producer and multi-instrumentalist, Andrew Mitchell.

In 2018, Andrew was extended a residency invite from arts centre and historic house, Hospitalfield, Arbroath, Scotland to create new music for their restored, 19th century, Erard Grecian harp.
During Wasylyk's five-month sojourn he created melodies and progressions echoing the building's unique relationship with the looming North Sea horizon. Using not only the harp, but the house's original grand piano, Andrew explored the Angus landscape and beyond, gathering field recordings on trips to neighbouring Seaton Cliffs and Bell Rock Lighthouse (the world's oldest surviving sea-washed lighthouse).
Winter slipped into spring, and harp-led compositions gave way to an ambitious third, full-length album, exploring a range of themes utilising a broad palette of instrumentation, including flugelhorn, euphonium, oboe, string trio, vintage synthesisers, drones and upright piano.

From the wandering, Bob James-esque, Fender Rhodes and shimmering strings in the study of coastal light, "(Welter) In The Haar", to the plaintive brass and farewell transmission blowing through, "Adrift Below A Constellation", punctuated by the fragility of Wasylyk's sole lead vocal of this collection - "The Paralian" (a dweller by the sea), is a conclusion embued with blue and golden melodies that land in a territory akin to experimentalists such as Robert Wyatt and Brian Eno. Through which, Wasylyk weaves the listener along a Modern-classical, Ambient and Jazz dream of Scotland's east coast.

Athens Of The North team were stunned by the luminous beauty and creativity at play in this work. Falling between genres and time, it stands next to 60s British Jazz, effortlessly blending notes of Library and soundtracks with dashes of British Folk.

Günter Schickert, four decades of multi-instrumental cosmic explorations, under Berlin's sky, above genres, and compromises.

It was memorable the time when I firstly listened to his debut LP of 1974, the monumental Samtvogel. It overwhelmed me with layers of echoing guitars roaring into space, causing a powerful release of dopamine spreading through my skin, in the way an Interstellar Overdrive', or a Richard D James Album would do. It was a proof of the divine to discover Günter Schickert, it is a profound honour today to present on Marmo his seventh album to date, Labyrinth, the first to be released on vinyl format since 1983`s Kinder In Der Wildnis.

Schickert's Samtvogel, self-published first, then licensed to Brain, equaled the imaginative leap and sonic power of the early Pink Floyd, Manuel Gottsching's Inventions For Electric Guitar or A.R. & Machines's Die Grüne Reise. What followed, from his second LP Überfällig on Sky Records to his collaborations with Klaus Schulze, Jochen Arbeit and Schneider TM, even if little acclaimed, spans a large spectrum of music styles, always through a distinctive and personal aesthetic, that is deeply linked to the one he firstly crafted back in '74, when Schickert pioneered the use of echo effects applied to guitar playing.

And now Labyrinth, a record that stands for versatility, where genres do not matter, soundscapes or life situations take over, song-writing emotions pop out, handing out a spectrum of surprises to the listener. You may find yourself flying low along steep cliffs and with a blink of eye you are thrown into a Middle Eastern scenery.

The album is divided into two parts, two different production bulks and periods of Günther Schickert's life. Side A features a selection of tracks recorded in 1996, appearing on the 2012 album HaHeHiHo, released via Pittsburgh based VCO Recordings, on a limited press of 100 units, tape format only. I felt that the visionary and emotional richness of these pieces deserved the vinyl format and a chance to reach to a wider audience.

The Raga-inspired Morning' opens Labyrinth with exotic charm and bitter-sweet nostalgia. Sieben' kicks off with the same guitar scales of the previous theme, before the motorised progressions of a Korg MS-20 synth surprisingly storm in, carrying along an intersecting multitude of filters and sharp guitar effects, flowing into an epic, paradisiac ending. Ninja Schwert' remains on astral dimensions, it is a struggle of cosmic forces, where the steady ride of a pounding beat gets embraced by different guitar layers and analogue electronic filtering. The side closes up with HaHeHiHo', a slow ballad featuring Mr. Schickert on vocals, guitar, bass guitar and drum machine - an example of simple, stripped down yet gifted songwriting that is capable to reach the heart of the listener.

Side B contains material produced between 2007 and today. The intricate, bewildering Tsunami' shows the multi-instrumental and recording abilities of Günter Schickert: a field-recorded storm with mesmerising powers, a peculiar progressive approach to guitar playing. Mysterious sinister spirits and sounds are emerging and the feeling of being lost in a pleasant trance arises. In contrast, Oase' muffles the intensity and jumps into a completely different soundscape, where in liaison with the sounds of a rolling drum tom and a desert-like trumpet, the microphone carefully captures the found sound tones of everyday-life objects and actions. Like HaHeHiHo on side A, Checking' represents the vocal gem of the B side, in a raw and direct way of songwriting like if Syd Barrett was his invisible helper. Palaver' (which means unnecessarily talk' in German) assembles different vocal recordings of Schickert into a bizarre free-style conversation through a mysterious language, where he attempts to emulate illiterate children conversating. The final track, Morning (Slide)', reprises the opening theme, this time solely performed through the caressing dilated sounds of Günter's slide guitar.