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Black cloud is descending – Black Magic Six set to release their fifth album in September, new single Blood of Babylon out now The title of Black Magic Six’s upcoming album Black Cloud Descending really sums up the mood and thoughts of its creators during the album making process. It tells stories of constant escaping, accepting defeat, destinies of outcasts, failures, and drunks. Tales of the wiser, exaggerated lies, vague rumours, fuzzy states of mind and suspicious circumstances – even the thought in the back of your head about the possibility of redemption while standing on the edge of the cliff right before falling in; it’s all there. The album’s first single Blood of Babylon is a garage rocking song about Sam Berkowitz’s relationship with Sam Carr’s speaking dog. Lyrical themes of the upcoming album are moving between reality and the imaginary world; remembering the moments at Belo Horizonte, how to use the powder that protects you from the evil eye, how it felt to wonder in the same alleyways with the werewolf of Istanbul or diving to safety to the bottom of a pond in Northern Savo. Listen Blood of Babylon here: https://youtu.be/S7mEujUIlrw Musically the album is on a narrow path. All the sounds heard on Black Cloud Descending are produced by Taskinen and Motherfuckin’ Japa. Sure, there are two exceptions; the gong heard in the end of Werewolf of Istanbul was recorded by Sakke Koivula at his home and the church bells in the outro of Full House Blues are ringed by unknown. Previous albums of BM6 had lots of guests playing guitar, percussions, harmonica, and visiting singers. People that one could call actual musicians. These past albums have had a softer, more versatile, and maybe even a livelier touch to them. This time around there’s only the core; the percussionist and the singing guitar player. The result is more raw, rugged, and rougher than before. Black Cloud Descending is out on September 1st on vinyl, CD, and digital platforms. The album was produced, recorded, and mixed by Mitro Kylliäinen at Kung Fu Audio along with BM6 during 2022-2023. Original art used for the album cover was made by Greger Grönholm. The band will play selected live shows to celebrate the new album in Finland, Germany, Denmark, and Spain. Dates of these gigs will be announced closer to the release date of the album.

Eight years on from the release of his compelling debut album ‘Sun, Cloud’, Luke Howard has now established himself as one of the most important and exciting musicians in contemporary classical music. The composer has been at the forefront of opening up piano music to a new generation, while challenging the notion of what can be achieved in the form. New album ‘All Of Us’ is not only an exquisite portrait of isolation, loss, resistance and reconciliation in both stark and rich shades of piano, orchestra and electronics, but the theme of quarantine provides a framework for the record. Throughout the album, Howard shifts between subtle permutations of shifting sound, etched with his trademark intimacy and restraint, and applied with a palate both minimalist and expansive; to his own piano, celeste and synthesiser, the Budapest Art Orchestra (conducted by Peter Pejtsik) plays strings, guests added flugelhorn, viola, contrabass and modular synth whilst fellow post-classicist Ben Lukas Boysen provides additional programming, production and mixing on ‘Critical Spirit’ and ‘The Opening Of The Gates’.

Edna Wright's idiosyncratic "Oops!" is one of the most sublime vocal refrains in soul music history. Anchoring its host album's leadoff cut, it sets the tone for a uniquely satisfying modern soul LP. Indeed, whilst many of its ilk come laden with filler, Wright's one solo record is an exercise in elegant restraint, a concise killer.

Originally released in 1977 on RCA, this rare and sought-after album followed the 1973 disbanding of Edna's much-loved Honey Cone. Produced by her husband, legendary producer/songwriter Greg Perry, the album was somewhat of a risk, a deep soul album released during the period when disco was altering the landscape of popular music. And perhaps inevitably, despite the stellar production and spine-tingling vocals throughout, the album glided gracefully under the radar, spawning only one single and seeing no chart action.

That single - the magnificent title-track - soon became a notorious rare groove stepper in its own right. However, in the years since, it has become a crate diggers classic. Its fame was elevated among hip-hop heads when Prince Paul memorably looped the shimmering intro when crafting the melodic hook for De La Soul's late-summer-stunner "Pass The Plugs", a wistfully melancholic back-porch nostalgia trip. And, more recently, Leon Vynehall liberally lifted the same intro for his sepia-tinged "Midnight On Rainbow Road" to augment the excellent Rush Hour compilation Musik For Autobahns 2.

Yet this album is so much more than its most famous song. An assuredly lean masterpiece from start-to-finish, the album features a further six dynamite tracks of warm, smooth soul. As such, it's an impossible task to choose certain tracks to highlight alongside the mighty title track. Throughout, Edna's strikingly mature vocals are wonderful, proudly stepping out with a sophisticated groove reminiscent of Jean Carn or Gloria Scott, whilst Greg Perry's gorgeous string-drenched backdrops add a rich depth. So much so, many of the other tracks have been sampled by producers with impeccable taste, from 9th Wonder to The Alchemist for songs featuring Nas and Talib Kweli.

Following her glowing role in the acclaimed documentary 20 Feet From Stardom, we pray this long overdue reissue will allow further light to shine on Edna. Officially licensed and beautifully remastered for vinyl by celebrated engineer Simon Francis, it has been pressed on audiophile 180g vinyl for the first time and features the original iconic artwork. Each copy includes a printed inner sleeve with a sumptuous black & white photo, full lyrics and heartfelt notes from Edna herself.

Big Crown Records is proud to present the debut full length offering from Les Imprimés, Rêverie. The stirring and ethereal sounds of Les Imprimés have been making fans of anyone who hears them since their first 7” single hit the speakers. Morten Martens is the man behind the band. Born, raised, and working in Kristiansand, Norway, he keeps a low profile while making his heartfelt, highly infectious, and unique music. This album is a long time coming for Martens and it is sure to make him a name to be reckoned with.

The first thing you notice listening to Les Imprimés is the high level of musicianship. Martens plays nearly every instrument on the recordings and handles the production and arranging. He has been making records for decades, winning a Spellemann Award (aka, the Norwegian Grammy) in 2006 for producing a Hip Hop album as well as getting nominations across three other genres. While awards and accolades speak to the level of his talent, this new album really shows who he is as an artist on his own terms.

Moving away from being a hired gun on the touring scene naturally led him to start doing more studio work. Slowly collecting gear and getting more experience behind the boards he built his own studio on the island of Odderøya and was making a living playing with and recording other people's music. As the story goes, after those sessions would end he would work on his own project into the wee hours of the night. From these late night sessions, Les Imprimés was born and Rêverie began to take shape.

However, "it wasn't until COVID, when things locked down, that I was really able to find the time to focus on Les Imprimés" Morten says about creating and leading his own solo project. "It was a scary time. But I knew I had to do something with it." He took the sum of his influences, combined them with his own vibe and got busy writing the music, playing the instruments, and singing the songs. "It's soul music, but I don't exactly have the soul voice," Morten explains humbly. "But I do it my own way, in a way that's mine."

It is his sound, his fingerprint, his sensibility, that makes his music hard to categorize. He has crafted an album of songs with different energies that all fit together to make one gorgeous record. The lead single “Falling Away” starts with a raw drum break and turns into a lushly arranged tune that paints the picture of love when it slips away. On “Still Here” he professes his resilience through life’s twists and turns over a thundering track that puts a new spin on the B side ballad genre. Songs like “You” and “Our Love” mix tones from 60s and 70s Soul with arrangement nods to Doo Wop records while Martens’ lyrics and delivery leave you singing the melodies long after they finish. “Love & Flowers” finds Martens in a moment of clarity with a song that fits the niche sub genre of happy break up tunes, the four on the floor track will move the dancefloor while the message will resonate with anyone who put too much effort into the wrong situation in their lives. However, it is songs like “Muse” and “Chess” that really encapsulate the uniqueness of Les Imprimés as they push the boundaries of genre, one a profession of love for music and the other a cover of an electronic record respectively. Martens’ lyrics, emotion, and delivery truly make the whole thing come together and stand out from any of his peers. There’s an infectiousness and a pop sensibility in the writing that is done with the utmost class and taste giving Les Imprimés the rare quality of immediate attraction that only deepens the more you listen.

Big Crown Records is proud to present the debut full length offering from Les Imprimés, Rêverie. The stirring and ethereal sounds of Les Imprimés have been making fans of anyone who hears them since their first 7" single hit the speakers. Morten Martens is the man behind the band. Born, raised, and working in Kristiansand, Norway, he keeps a low prole while making his heart felt, highly infectious, and unique music. This album is a long time coming for Martens and it is sure to make him a name to be reckoned with. The first thing you notice listening to Les Imprimés is the high level of musician-ship. Martens plays nearly every instrument on the recordings and handles the production and arranging. He has been making records for decades, winning a Spellemann Award (aka, the Norwegian Grammy) in 2006 for producing a HipHop album as well as getting nominations across three other genres. While awards and accolades speak to the level of his talent, this new album really shows who he is an artist on his own terms. Moving away from being a hired gun on the touring scene naturally led him to start doing more studio work. Slowly collecting gear and getting more experi-ence behind the boards he built his own studio on the island of Odderoya and was making a living playing with and recording other people's music. As the story goes, after those sessions would end he would work on his own project into the wee hours of the night. From these late night sessions, Les Imprimés was born and Rêverie began to take shape. However, "it wasn't until COVID, when things locked down, that I was really able to nd the time to focus on Les Imprimés" Morten says about creating and leading his own solo project. "It was a scary time. But I knew I had to do something with it." He took the sum of his inuences, combined them with his own vibe and got busy writing the music, playing the instruments, and singing the songs. "It's soul music, but I don't exactly have the soul voice," Morten explains humbly. "But I do it my own way, in a way that's mine. "It is his sound, his fingerprint, his sensibility, that makes his music hard to put in a box. The album showcases both Martens' range and his ability to make a cohesive album. The lead single "Falling Away" starts with a raw drum break and turns into a lushly arranged tune that paints the picture of love when it slips away. On "Still Here" he professes his resilience through life's twists and turns over a thundering track that puts a new spin on the B side ballad genre. Songs like "You" and "Our Love" mix tones from 60s and 70s Soul with arrangement nods to Doo Wop records while Martens' lyrics and delivery leave you singing the melodies long after they finish. "Love & Flowers" finds Martens in a moment of clarity with a song that ts the niche sub genre of happy break up tunes, the four on the floor track will move the dancefloor or while the message will resonate with anyone who put too much effort into the wrong situation in their lives. However, it is songs like "Muse" and "Chess" that really encapsulate the uniqueness of Les Imprimés as they push the boundaries of genre, one a profession of love for music and the other a cover of an electronic record respectively. Martens' lyrics, emotion, and delivery truly make the whole thing come together and stand out from any of his peers. There's an infectiousness and a pop sensibility in the writing that is done with the utmost class and taste giving Les Imprimés the rare quality of immediate attraction that only deepens the more you listen.

Tom James Scott holds a unique position in experimental music. With a soft brush approach Scott, who currently lives on the North-West coast of England, has explored delicacy in music with a variety of sublime releases on a variety of labels. Predominantly known for gentle investigations of guitar and piano, Scott has shifted to incorporating different technology and tactics over time. All of this, either in performance or recording, is embedded with a spirit that is quintessentially his own. Nightshade is the latest in his expanding catalogue, one which ignites an alarmingly new take on his approach to music. Echo on Water initiates proceedings with the unmistakable sound of tape.

Any instrumentation is buried amongst the woozy sway of the medium itself, with its rough dynamics soon morphing into an overwhelmingly swirling mass of emotionally decayed sound. The movement of matter takes on a haunted shape with sounds looping and falling apart as the physicality of the medium holds it all together. The second track Blue Mist furthers this approach with its smeared haze of gorgeous emotion. This is deep exploration of ideas meeting matter. Wasting Stars takes up the entire flip side with the sound of tape recoiling a bit to allow the delicate glow of instruments to come more to the fore, with gentle effects that weave the musical matter. As a skewered take on Scott’s earlier piano explorations the atmosphere here is a subdued soundscape evoking the spiritual sadness found in the piano works of Gurdjieff/De Hartmann, with a modern lo fi angle.

Nightshade is a deeply effective journey and one of the most exquisite examples of Scott’s delicate approach so far. Two sides of form which inhabit contrasting yet complimentary clouds of sound communicating in an stunning emotional flow. As music with only trace elements of melody, Nightshade is a beautiful take on tools being used to explore paths both highly idiosyncratic, deeply moving and discreetly personal.

Freak Frequency was a fitting title for the new material Greg Obis was planning for Stuck, the frenetic and twisted post-punk outfit he formed in 2018. Inspired by the doomy social economics of Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism, the bleak worldbuilding of horror games Demon’s Souls and Bloodborne, and the bombastic yet arty satire of Devo, Obis channelled his audio analogy into Freak Frequency, an album ringing out with explosive sounds and ideas.

Stuck formed after Obis’ previous projects, Yeesh and Clearance, called it quits in short proximity. Obis is on guitar and vocals, which span from booming theatrics to ecstatic yelps. The project’s rhythm section is completed by shoegaze guitarist-turned-chugging bassist David Algrim and tightly wound drummer Tim Green—also a graphic designer, and the artist responsible for Stuck’s distinctively unified visual aesthetic. Original co-guitarist Donny Walsh contributed freely inventive lines for the first few years of the project, including on Freak Frequency; Ezra Saulnier of Red Tunic, the newest member of the band, now brings calculated contrapuntal riffs to match Obis’ parts.

The building blocks of Stuck include the egg punk eccentricities of Uranium Club and The Coneheads filtered through noise rock power, à la Jesus Lizard or Slint; that melange is glittered with the precision microtones of Unwound and Women. “I want the feeling of immersion and chaos and tension, with a big guitar amp playing a big chord,” says Obis of his inspirations, citing friends and peers Cloud Nothings and Preoccupations. “But I want it delivered by having a lot of smaller points of light poking through.”

In fact, writing for Freak Frequency began while Content’s recording was still underway—beginning with “Scared,” which features acoustic layers under feedback squalls. “Time Out,” with motoric guitars in the sputtering lineage of Wire, was also composed in late 2019. Obis wrote it about the cycles of compulsion and shame woven into social media use, and the way negativity drives algorithmic engagement. It became an exciting exercise for the group in ramping up speed; “I thought I knew how far I could push Tim’s tempos,” Obis recalls. “But Tim kept insisting we do it 20 bpm faster than what I had. He is an absolute monster for playing that.”

Album opener “The Punisher,” a spiral staircase of disembodied guitars and rhythmic slams over a 2/4 beat, came in the aftermath of the January 6 insurrection. It felt immediately emblematic to Freak Frequency, and Obis describes it as his favorite Stuck track: one he wishes he could write again and again. “It hits all the boxes that Stuck can do: it’s goofy, but there’s a lot of intricate guitar interplay, and at the end, there’s a big payoff,” he explains. The last song written was “Do Not Reply,” a pre-album single that came to Obis after engineering for Melkbelly and channelling their earworm melodies. Algrim wouldn’t let it on the record unless Melkbelly’s front person Miranda Winters dueted on vocals; she was happy to oblige, and the gritty epic closes Freak Frequency.

With slippery snark, percussive heft, and funhouse mirrors of sludge, Freak Frequency delivers its needed screeds with gratifying nuance. If Stuck’s interpretation of this messed-up world goes down like a bitter pill, it’s only because its sugar coating is too delicious to keep from eating.

Lee Gamble’s UIQ label unveils a second album from Filipina-Australian artist Corin Ileto, deploying a brace of swarming alien chorales and rapturous digital rave noise to explore the idea of sound as a sentient being. Bold and operatic, cinematic and cybernetic.

Named after the iconic choral work by 20th Century avant-garde legend György Ligeti (as immortalised by Stanley Kubrick in 2001), ‘Lux Aeterna' explores the idea of micropolyphony, a term Ligeti described as a complex polyphony "in which harmonies do not change suddenly, but merge into one another." Like Ligeti, Corin isn't primarily concerned with melody or rhythm, but timbre: the colour and quality of sound itself.

Taking its time to unfurl, the album opens with ‘lumen naturae’, winding tonal clouds that eventually latch onto a misshapen hoover sound that curves into the abyss. Corin shows her hand more formally on 'sunta', balancing layered cybernetic drones against ratcheting metallic rhythms and unstable textures. When the track cuts to almost-silence, it reminds us of Akira Rabelais' ghosted 'Spellewauerynsherde' (itself an impressionistic granulation of vocal recordings), before being disrupted by a dynamic kick that shares DNA with club music.

But despite her occasional flirtations with the club, Ileto doesn't appear to have any interest in making functional dance music. Instead, she emphasises momentum and texture. Like a celestial opera, ecstatic trance is reimagined within the context of sacred liturgy – merging hyper-real soundscapes with Gregorian chant and medieval instrumentation. Chrome-plated clangs and growling subs highlight the album’s sci-fi leanings, tapping into a sort of retro-futurism that balances a hi-tech mindset with a feeling of deep vulnerability and alienation.

After taking time out from working together to focus on separate musical projects, maverick composer Alan Roberts (Jim Noir) and crowd-rousing vocalist Leonore Wheatley (International Teachers of Pop / The Soundcarriers) have re-joined forces to introduce Co-Pilot. Each the other’s wing person, they’re plotting an escape through Manchester’s claustrophobic grey skies with the pencil case colour of a hand-sewn multi-coloured primary school patchwork quilt. “We are both the creators in charge of navigating Co-Pilot’s overall sound which changes from track to track,” Leonore hints at what to expect. “There are about 6 different genres on one album, it's a pick n mix record!”


Happy in the haze of many boozy hours the album was recorded over just a few months whilst holed up and hanging out in Al’s city centre Dookstereo studio. The former Mill allowed the pair to relax, laugh and create without constraint. Armed with their original demos and vocal recordings from Al’s flat, they’d nip by the offie to pick up some Dutch courage before setting to work: building arrangements from a drum beat and basic chord pattern, the pair were so in tune they rarely spoke, allowing only the music to lead the way. “We’d communicate through nods of agreement or grimaces of dismay,” Leonore recalls. “Using the instruments with Al in production mode, we let the sound dictate the process whilst being drunk enough to follow it.”
The sound of life coming full circle after honing their separate crafts, Leonore had previously played keys and vocals in Jim Noir’s live band before moving on to front International Teachers of Pop for two critically lauded albums of joyous dancefloor filling bangers - their self-titled debut (2019) and Pop Gossip (2020). During that time Al would further expand Jim Noir’s universe with AM Jazz, which was celebrated as the no.1 album in Piccadilly Records’ ‘End of Year Review’ (2020), followed by the Deep View Blue E.P. (2021) cementing his status as one of Manchester’s finest songwriters.
As Leonore added her vocal magic to Al’s early demos of what would eventually become Co-Pilot’s ‘Spring Beach’ and a crooked original version of closing track ‘Corner House’, the vibe was prophetic “like the ending of Grease as Danny and Sandy take flight through the clouds”, letting their imaginations fly. The songs were the catalyst to spark a new phase of the pair working together, picking up where they left off. “From messing about with sounds during rehearsals in the very beginning it was always clear we liked the combination of sounds we made,” Leonore recalls.
Powered by a ‘try anything’ approach, Co-Pilot blends the musical DNA of what you’ve come to expect from each of the pair’s previous flight paths. “Whatever is switched on or nearby gets used. There's no 'correct' for us. If it sounds good, record it,” Al tells. United through typically turbulent wonky pop and lurking samples, whether culled from 70s TV themes or recreations of past and found sounds (see Al’s 60s tropicalia guitar on ‘Brick’, or the innocent ‘Swim to Sweden’ which opens with an ice cream van jingle Al recorded from his bedroom window) their process offers up a bucket load of Easter eggs. The album even features snippets from dearly departed pal Batfinks whilst ‘Motosaka’ is perhaps the most expensive 2-minutes on the album, featuring a Columbia Records Japan-cleared sample of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s ‘Thousand Knives’. Its synth squelches and Tom Tom Club funk also received the blessing of Haroumi Hosono, Godfather of Japanese Electronica, who agreed to being sampled in an original version of the song. “We just kept listening back and hitting gold,” Al recalls. “I was thinking ‘yeah, not sure what this is but I like it! We were buzzing with what we had made.”
But the sound wouldn’t come without self-imposed instrumental challenges. Thanks to an old mellotron sample on ‘Move To It,’ the moog riff and nautical accordion breaks on ‘Swim To Sweden’ and the 6/8 and 7/8 jaunt of ‘Brick’, time signatures were lovingly skewed to create Co-Pilot’s unique mood. “It was a bastard getting the drums right,” Leonore reveals, “but I like the wonkiness”. Levelling up through the lyrics, the words of smoky and evocative ‘She Walks In Beauty’ are based on a Lord Byron poem, with the sentiment of remembering Leonore’s late grandparents. “I wanted to see how much I could get away with just singing on one note, and how I could harmonically change everything else around it vocally,” she says. Elsewhere ‘Can You See’ was written from the perspective of a concerned sister to a brother which tells of keeping someone safe. “The lyrics are quite metaphorical about day-to-day happenings, people loved and lost. Others are rhythmic nonsense! It’s up to the listener to figure out what’s true.”
It’s clear from Al’s productive production techniques and Leonore’s knack for vocals and lyricism, Co-Pilot’s course is engineered by two aeronautically adept sonic storytellers. “We share a pretty similar sense of humour,” Al tells, “It is funny listening to this quite serious album but knowing we were giggling as we recorded it all. It’s been great to have another brain to bounce off.” Their destination might be unknown, but the clouds are about to part for a sound that is light years ahead. “You'll like at least one song,” Leonore suggests, “and hopefully them all.”

“Where are you, my sunny feeling I knew as a kid?” This is the question that Origami Angel asks with their latest output, a sharp and shining 8-song mixtape called The Brightest Days. Its opening title track begins with one of many new tricks for the DC two-piece––a ukulele––but quickly turns left-field as childhood innocence makes way for blistering intensity and hopelessness. Told through the lens of a shitty east coast summer, The Brightest Days was written throughout the spring and summer of 2020, and later recorded in August 2022 with producer Drew Portalatin, with assistance from Jake Chekoway and vocalist/guitarist Ryland Heagy (he/him). Across the mixtape are some of the most creative and adventurous moves Gami has ever made. Not quite an EP or an LP, the differences between each track on The Brightest Days is what makes it such a special release, and thus garnering the ‘mixtape’ moniker; diving into specific tones and different vocal techniques on each track allowed Heagy and drummer Pat Doherty (he/him) to shine in ways they never have before. The Brightest Days may be few and far between—with that gap stretching further each day—but as a mixtape, it’s a cloudless collection of the most realized and strongest music that Origami Angel has written yet.

Pressed On Clear Vinyl! 'We are the planters of the weeds or roses in our garden. Take the plunge within yourself to find The Main Ingredient.' So reads CL Smooth's album dedication in the liners to Pete Rock & CL's underrated, soulful and deeply grooving sophomore album. For fans, it was bittersweet, as it would be their last as a duo. By 1994, Pete and CL were darlings of both fans and critics, still on a high after 1992's Mecca & The Soul Brother and the album's emotional smash single 'They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.).' Two years later, they had grown even more as men and artists. Gone was some of the righteous striving of their earlier work, replaced by mature - yet still righteous - wisdom. And a lot more love as well, bringing a larger female constituency into their fanbase. They were adults now, reveling in the plateau they had reached. The duo's '90s swan song is a powerful double album that still resonates with Golden Era hip-hop fans: 16 cuts deep and full of intelligence, fire and warmth. Beats-per-minute-wise, the album mostly clocks at a comfortable strutting pace, bolstered by Pete Rock's pioneering use of filtered basslines and a recently-hatched obsession with Rhodes piano. The new tracks filled speakers and headphones with soul, as CL continued to assert his lyrical prowess all throughout. The lead single, 'I Got A Love,' is a perfect example of the group's '94 steez: a super-catchy and respectful, but far-from-soft love track, suitable for any rap fan's romantic needs. 'Take You There' and 'Carmel City' cover similar ground. Considering CL Smooth's top-level brag rapper status, cuts like 'I Get Physical,' 'Get On The Mic' and 'Check It Out' effectively reminded competitors not to test him. Pete also gets in the game on the mic several times on the album, acquitting himself nicely (and solo) on the cloudy day soul of 'Escape,' alongside other cuts. Add more pensive lyrical forays like 'All The Places,' 'Searching,' and - perhaps the album's sleeper cut - 'It's On You' and you have one of the more complete rap full-lengths of the mid-1990s. This isn't surprising, considering the wonder twins-esque skills of Pete and CL. But it does make fans wonder what would have happened if they had stayed together longer.

















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In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

The Eighteen Minute Gap lets you embark on a mysterious journey into a world of ethereal ambient music, where beautiful and soothing listening experiences await. Using field recordings and manipulating textures and sounds, Sonmi451 creates minimal yet tantalizing soundscapes, filled with intimate whispering voices.

Since 2005 Bernard Zwijzen is creating his own blend of minimal, soundscape-laden atmospheric electronics under the moniker Sonmi451 (a character from David Mitchell's novel "Cloud Atlas"), based in Hasselt, Belgium. He has been previously released on labels such as : U-Cover, Slaapwel Records, Time Released Sounds, Eilean Rec. and this is his second album on LAAPS. "The Eighteen Minute Gap" is his thirteenth releases.

Sonmi451 uses various soft- and hardware synths and samplers to create a truly unique and immersive audio experience where one is captivated by mystery and intrigue and immersed in a world of mysterious sounds where boundaries between reality and imagination begin to blur.

In line with his recent body of work, Uwe Zahn bundled minimal compositions telling narratives situating in the melodic realm of ambient music. On first sight, it seems common that one can enter or construct such stories through the melodies these compositions offer. However, melodies never stand on their own – maybe only theoretically – but in fact truly reveal their magic through the sonical context they’re embedded in. To Zahn, a crucial part of his practice is all about this latter notion. Finding the sweet – and sometimes hidden – spots in sound-design that allow him to express the narratives he wants to share. ‘Seismograf’ could be seen as an ode to this exploration and devoted to the practice of listening - to hear sounds that are otherwise inaudible.

“i am like a seismometer for sound structures that are hidden deep under the surface. an ear on the ground, on the earth. the other ear listens to the sky, the birds, the clouds, the wind.” Arovane

Arovane is the moniker of German based composer and sound-designer Uwe Zahn who’s working in the field of minimal electronica and experimental music. In the late 1990’s his work reached a wider audience through releases on pivotal IDM labels DIN and City Centre Offices. In recent years, he released music on 12k and Puremagnetik and collaborated with Taylor Deupree, Porya Hatami and Synkro among others.

»Blank Vault / White Stains« is the new solo album by Franz Joseph Kaputt (DRNTTCKS, Otomatik Muziek, Hager/Kaputt). Under his S.U.V. alias, he presents nine highly personal, improvised synthesizer miniatures, accompanied by heavily delayed drum machines and enveloped in clouds of feedback. The music unveils a background rooted in years of noise exercises and ventures into the territories of dark, psychedelic folk, while showcasing a fondness for delicate synthesizer sounds and repetitive song structures. Layers of sound and rhythms collide and arrange themselves to create an idiosyncratic ambient/kraut music that explores the borders of when intimacy becomes toxic. It also delves into how relationships involving kink strategies can be used in a way that don‘t render one powerless or hurt, but ultimately leading to empowerment.

Side A is kind of an utopian dark room, filled with peculiar beats, drones, and dreamy synth arpeggios. Pleasure and joy are subversive acts that challenge and upend stereotypical role models. The pieces revolve around the mutual and consensual exploration of individual boundaries and the transformative states that emerge within these encounters – a unique entity, a »Body Of The Mind« if you will, is formed between individuals. Side B then represents the counterpart. Acid synths, distortion cascades and looped pianos evoke the regression from this playful and subversive approach on to sheer brutality and perverse destruction.

Lewis Taylor's legendary magnum opus: The Lost Album. "Now you're talking. That's my favourite LT album. Unlike all of the others, there isn't anything about it that embarrasses me." Straight from the genius's mouth. What can we say about this? Well, it's the most requested record ever at Be With Towers. The Lost Album was the intended follow-up to his first album but Island rejected it for fear of "confusing" the marketplace and its conception of Lewis as a soul artist. Their loss. It's a breezy sunset masterpiece.

The genesis of this incredible record needs unpicking a bit. Lewis stopped promoting the first album after a year and went home to record a completely different record that was the most un-R&B album you could probably ever hear: "I pushed in such an extreme direction the other way with what eventually became The Lost Album. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a perceived ‘trapped in R&B’ feeling I was going through at the time. Some people around me were in favour of it and others weren’t. In the end I think I lost confidence in it and did Lewis II instead." We did at least get Lewis II, which is a remarkable album, and he kept Island happy...for a bit. Not long after, Lewis was dropped. And what was to become The Lost Album could've been...er...lost. Forever.

Thankfully, however, Lewis and longtime partner Sabina Smyth revisited those scrapped demo tracks in 2003. They decided to re-arrange, re-record and then self-release them. So it was that the brand new version of The Lost Album finally dropped in late 2004. It's sheer perfection, and we don't say that lightly. The Lost Album was a fully 50/50 collaboration between Lewis and Smyth. As well as production, Sabina did a lot more writing on it, from the melody to "Listen Here" to the chord sequence for "Let's Hope Nobody Finds Us." Thankfully, Sabina is credited this time around.

No, it's not straight up "soul music" in the vein of his previous work. Yet, in its perfectly formed suite of one dozen songs, The Lost Album is dripping in soul. It's so warm, so effervescent and so alive with possibilities. It features deep, fresh imprints on well-loved, accessible sounds. It's a proper 70s style double album. Just one listen and the musical influences on The Lost Album are fairly self-explanatory, as Lewis recently told us, but it's always nice to hear that, in case we were in any doubt, he was definitely channeling Love, Yes, Brian Wilson, CSN, Laura Nyro and, of course, Todd Rundgren. The influences don't end there: "I’m particularly fond of my bass playing on that album, there’s a lot of Chris Squire going on which is cool."

Deep orchestral opener "Lost" is a sublime, harp-laced, string drenched gem, a cinematic, melancholic Axelrod-esque mini-epic that simply beguiles. Written by Smyth, it evokes Donny Hathaway's celestial "I Love The Lord, He Heard My Cry" from Extensions Of A Man. The only problem is the brief 90 seconds running time. It segues into the classic Brian Wilson-meets-power-pop-rock splendour of "Listen Here" which, with its outstanding extended harp-licked beatless intro, sounds like the younger cousin to Boston's "More Than A Feeling". We then drift into the ringing guitars of classic 70s rock anthem "Hide Your Heart Away". It's Lewis's personal favourite, "especially the multi-tracked guitar solo – I was listening to Boston at the time, which was fun." A-ha!

A new version of the heart-stopping, shoulda-been-a-massive-pop-hit "Send Me An Angel" opens Side B before the arrival of, in Lewis's completely correct words, "the clear standout, "Leader of the Band"; the perfect distillation of everything that album was trying to achieve." Soaring, piano-led Rundgren-esque power pop that makes the hairs on the back of your next stand on end. Truly, otherworldly. This is pure pop for now (and then) people. The simple jangly brilliance meets experimental prog-rock of "Yeah" sounds like simultaneously like prime CSNY and late 90s Radiohead (if they'd had a slightly more accessible bent and could write better tunes).

Oh, you wish The Beach Boys had continued writing amazing songs beyond Holland? Well, allow us to point you in the direction of the downlifting stunner "Please Help Me If You Can" and the warm textures and brilliant atmospherics of goosebump-inducer "Let’s Hope Nobody Finds Us". Words can't really describe the sheer beauty of these songs. So we'll stop trying. Just listen. Listen, listen, listen. Closing out this remarkable side of music, the accidentally Balearic "New Morning" should be blasting out at every sunrise set in Ibiza, this summer and forevermore.

The final side opens with the vaguely Beatlesey "Say I Love You". It's just classic, soaring pop-rock songwriting and should strictly be canonical. It's that good. The sassy, Stonesy swagger of "See My Way" injects enough rock'n'roll attitude to compensate for the rest of record's peace-loving, AOR sun-dappled vibe whilst album closer, "One More Mystery", emerging out of the rubble of the previous track, comes on initially like a Baroque-Pop George Harrison before piling crunching drums and screeching guitar solos atop the dreamy harmonies til close.

When asked what it means to have these records available on vinyl for the first time, Lewis is in no doubt: "It’s great and it’s really nice to be able to offer fans a different listening experience. There’s a whole other dimension with vinyl that taps into that whole nostalgia thing, well for me anyway. Something about the physical aspect of pulling it out of the sleeve and putting it on, it does tend to make you feel like you’re more engaged."

Lewis was adamant that he wanted all new artwork for The Lost Album vinyl sleeve and his brief was just the sort of classic tropical-beach-at-sunset you’d want to see on the front of a record that sounds like this. On the finished sleeve, the beach at sunset is just where we start out, before heading up through the painterly clouds and heading out into the stars. And yes, the lettering is a definite subtle nod to all those in-between-period Beach Boys bootlegs we all love. Simon Francis's sensitive mastering combines with Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios so the album sounds appropriately outstanding. The immaculate Record Industry double LP pressing will ensure this previously lost masterpiece stays forever found.

Selected by Jim O’Rourke for his Tone Glow list of 25 albums that “never got their due”, Org was founded in the early 90’s by Espen Jensen and Kjetil D Brandsdal who would later go on to variously record as Elektrodiesel, Noxagt and Ultralyd in the swirl of the highly active Norwegian underground. “Org" was the only album the pair recorded as a duo, pressed in a meagre edition of just over 100 copies which disappeared almost as soon as they were made, lodged in the memory of the select few who have managed to hear it in the years since.

Made up of three long tracks, the near 20-minute ‘001’ opens the album with an extended organ zone-out matched with scraping factory machinery saturated into a dense cloud of harmonic fuzz. There's something transcendental about the sound that intersects with microtonal Alice Coltrane (particularly the unfairly maligned organ-only edition of "Turiya Sings"), as well as Pauline Oliveros and Ramleh. It’s music that pulls you in subconsciously; before you know it, you're fixating on the uncomfortable grind of metal on metal, buried mechanical rhythms and liturgical organ vamps that wind between industrial cacophony and sacred ritual music. For its last few seconds, we go into a full death metal tearout that fades out before it takes full flight, a glorious wtf.

‘002’ connects between minimalist drone styles and shoegaze, distorting fuzzed organ into pliable, dreamlike warbles that end up sounding like Kevin Shields' ‘Loveless’-era glides, or even Sunn O))) at their most devotional. Never losing the numbing overdriven mettle, its a piece that sounds spiritually entwined with Matthew Bower's Skullflower - a minimalist re-reading of high-contrast guitar music that takes all the psychoacoustic power and none of the annoying posturing.

For ‘003’, subaqueous organ is joined by synth and drum machine, sounding like the inspirational spark for Religious Knives' screwed 'n chopped cosmic psychedelia. The choice of sounds links it to Antena's foundational electro samba recordings too, but the overwhelming drone - a constant on all three compositions - connects the music to minimalist spirituals that have simmered beneath the DIY/avant garde for decades.

‘Org’ sits heavy on the nerves with overproof levels of mulched amp worship and ungodly, palms-down organ chords and wheezing, bezonked lines of melodic thought. 25 years out of sight and marinading in the archives, with the benefit of hindsight we can better understand the role these sounds played in the development of music in the contemporary sphere. It’s an important piece of the puzzle, one that makes valuable connections that, over time, have looked progressively more faint.

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

1000 Die-cut leather structure gatefold with eight artist photo cards & insert.

"Welcome to the America Dream Reserve, home to husband & wife duos, pub legends, one-man-bands, preachers’ sons, and country-lounge entertainers..."

About: America Dream Reserve is a home for kindred souls. An hour-long journey into the world of lo-fi drumcomputer folk, disco-pop-lounge, haunting ballads, obscure vanity pressings, and synthesized string ensembles. A collaborative compilation between Charles Bals, creator of the inimitable Club Meduse, and Smiling C.

Sleeve: This is a premium edition of ADR housed in a die-cut leather structure gatefold. It comes with eight loose double-sided swappable photo cards with artist photos on both sides, and an insert with write-up about the project. Limited run.

Compiled by: Charles Bals & Henry Jones.

The continuing growth of Maik Krahl as a melodic improviser, bandleader, and composer is distinctly evident in this new release. In-Between Flow, Krahl’s third outing as leader, is a portrait of a young artist who has gone through many years of dedicated hard work, study, experimentation, and refinement in order to achieve this level of instrumental and artistic progress. Krahl belongs to a new generation of improvisers who have acquired a breadth of technical and theoretical facility, while not losing the spontaneity and rawness of this music we call jazz. As a bandleader, he chooses his colleagues wisely and for this date is joined on a few tracks by the visionary guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, whose brilliant playing adds a cherry on top of this already delicious line up.

The title In-Between Flow refers to ever evolving progression of our human condition. As in nature, the human spirit can expand and unfold, maturing to a new state where it may settle for a while until some new impulses inspires another transition. These transitions, sometimes subtle, sometimes abrupt; as well as the times of contentedness and serenity are the inspirations for this music.

The record opens up with an ode to the town Krahl calls home. Cologne 4 AM, begins with a haunting melody by Krahl’s soft yet powerful horn before settling into a perfect vehicle to display his command of melodic and motivic story telling. There is something about the time of 4 AM that seems to permeate literature and music, and this track will add to the canon of artistic references to this magical time where the night meets the morning.

Mr. Rosenwinkel joins the band for Slosetta, which is a great example of Krahl’s ability to craft a tune. As is to be expected, Rosenwinkel weaves through the changes with grace and mastery, obviously enjoying the communication with the rhythm section, who are undeniably inspired by his harmonic, rhythmic and melodic ingenuity.

Jakob Kühnemann, a Bandleader and composer is his own right, has been an in demand bassist on the German and European scene for several years, and his contribution to this record is proof of why that is. Although Krahl takes the lead on Drizzle Counter, in a great display of technical virtuosity, it is Kühneman who stands out on this track. It is not only in his improvisation, but more so in his poly rhythmic pulses dancing up from the deep and the harmonic insinuations in his accompaniment of Krahl’s solo that demonstrate his musical mastery.

Rosenwinkel joins again for No Claim Claim, a composition so balanced that I would not be surprised to hear other artists recording or performing it in the future. After Krahl’s melodically inventive statement, Rosenwinkel shifts the band to the next gear building the intensity towards the out head.

Constantin Krahmer has been Krahl´s piano player since his debut record, Decidophobia. His patience, ingenuity, and big ears make him a perfect accomplice to Krahl, and his sensitive yet powerful approach and accompaniment on Reconstruction of a Dream as well as his harmonic and melodic inventiveness on Vinaceous Clouds (where he plays Fender Rhodes) make it clear why he is an integral part of this unit.

Ms Ludgate is a funky composition with angular melody that is another feather in the cap of the band leader. Kurt Rosenwinkel is back, and seems more than willing to engage in some rhythmic dialogue with the spectacular young drummer on the date, Fabian Rösch. Throughout this entire record Rösch is subtly but strongly guiding the band, playing his role as a supportive and interactive proponent to the music. We will surely be hearing much more from this young man with such a refined sound and clear rhythmic conception.

Flawless Sunday, a perfect closing statement for this record. The melody is another great example of Krahl’s growth as a composer. The whole rhythm section really shines on Krahmer’s choruses, where the three colleagues push and dare each other rhythmically as well as harmonically before Krahl enters and brings the record to a close with his beautiful rich tone and melodic playing.

It is a great pleasure to hear the growth of a young artist with such dedication and vision. Hearing how Krahl and his band mates navigate through the vicissitudes of this music is an inspiration that can be mirrored in everyday life. A lesson in accepting the ever changing flow from one state to another. Growing, learning, and evolving into a new state, until the process begins anew. In-Between Flow.