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First time on LP worldwide / New liner notes by Graham Parker / Includes the fan favourites "Blue Horizon," "I'll Never Play Jacksonville Again," and "Socks 'N' Sandals" / Packaged as an LP with bonus 7" single / Remastered for vinyl by the album's original co-producer and engineer, Dave Cook / Graham Parker has been pre-promoting this upcoming LP release from the stage/ Graham Parker's fifteenth studio album, Deepcut to Nowhere, was first released by the independent label Razor & Tie in 2001. Parker recalls, "Within weeks after the release date of Deepcut to Nowhere, I was up early driving from New York State to Boston on what seemed like the most beautiful day in the history of autumn, to rehearse with the Figgs for a festival in Oregon, slated for a few weeks later, followed by a tour to support the album. That day was September 11th, 2001." In the aftermath of the attacks, Parker comments, "The press members I spoke to could barely get past the first track on Deepcut to Nowhere, 'Dark Days,' asking me if I was some kind of 'seer,' or had a mysterious crystal ball. Followed by 'I'll Never Play Jacksonville Again,' the opening salvos of the album seemed to capture imminent trauma, but of course, I was just writing songs." As the 12-song set progresses, Parker's focus expands to include the nostalgic "Blue Horizon" ("as emotionally rich a song as I'll ever write"), a dark-humoured take on the evils of colonialism ("Syphilis and Religion"), and the indignity of wearing socks with sandals. Taken together, Deepcut to Nowhere is among Parker's finest and most varied collections of songs, several of which have gone on to become setlist staples. Deepcut to Nowhere, originally released on CD only, finally makes its worldwide LP debut.

NYC duo Straw Man Army return with their third LP, “Earthworks”, to complete a trilogy of records begun with 2020’s “Age of Exile,” and 2022’s “SOS”. Whereas “Age of Exile” dealt with the haunted landscapes of colonial history in the Americas, and “SOS” gave voice to a crisis of the present moment, like a prayer in bewildering times, 2024’s “Earthworks” signals the band’s attempt to close this trilogy by turning their gaze towards the future, where paradox, complexity and contradiction spiral in ascendance to an agonizing pitch. While continuing to develop their own style of anarcho-punk, “Earthworks” finds the band pulling once again from jazz and ambient influences, expanded Krautrock rhythms, and post-rock experiments, with a stronger emphasis on melodic vocals and varied song structures than on previous offerings. Taking cues from the wistful anti-war harmonies of The Byrds and the angry melodies of Zounds, tracks like “Turn the Wheel” and “Second Nature” mark new territory for a group whose messages and methods of experimentation have merged to form a singular sound equally at home on All the Madmen Records or in the spiritual legacy of ESP Disk. “Earthworks” is an album that holds and subverts many contradictions—juggling the weight of melancholy, grief, guilt, impunity, and the yearning for clarity against the backdrop of boiling wrath; the wrath of nature, the occupied, the dispossessed, and of the mind against itself. To quote the track “Spiral” — “Is this all that’s left for us these days? / Apathy and rage?”— Straw Man Army offers this record as a companion to our frustration, our sickness, our despair, and a lifeline for our fugitive attention in the struggle for peace.

Ava Mendoza has never made an album quite as personal as her second solo full-length, The Circular Train. Through her decades of collaborations with Nels Cline, Carla Bozulich, William Parker, Fred Frith, Matana Roberts, and Mick Barr—plus years leading her power trio Unnatural Ways and playing in Bill Orcutt’s quartet—the guitarist’s name has become synonymous with virtuoso technique, raw passion, and visceral resonance, a player pushing the edges of the guitar’s possibilities. Along the way, from 2007 to 2023, Mendoza was writing these slow-burning, incandescent songs. The Circular Train is comprised solely of her single-tracked guitar playing and, on two songs, her corporeal singing. Her first solo LP of original material since relocating from California to New York City a decade ago, much of The Circular Train was honed amid pandemic years that clarified the virtues of slowing down. This expressive avant-rock is a definitive introduction to one of the most uncompromising and inquisitive visions in creative music. Mendoza’s thrilling melange of free jazz, blues, noise, classical training, and blazing experimental rock’n’roll all coheres with ecstatic feedback, with picking and solos that crest with shimmer. Sometimes she sounds like a one-woman Sonic Youth with guttural and poised vocals that equally evoke Patti Smith and blues greats like Jessie Mae Hemphill. Conceptually, The Circular Train is presented as a psychogeographical train ride through certain of Mendoza’s musical homelands. The songs draw on ancestral and recent familial memories, notably of her parents’ roots in mining towns—in her father’s home country of Bolivia and mother’s hometown of Butte, Montana, each country with its own history of colonialism, racism, forced labor, the eradication of culture and the subsequent excavation of it. These adventurous songs were composed in cars and planes, in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, in Los Angeles and upstate New York—which is to say in motion. “Ride to Cerro Rico,” named for the mountain and silver mine at the center of Potosi, Bolivia, was inspired by Mendoza’s great grandmother’s life there in a Quechua mining family. “Dust From the Mines” drew from that history as well as Mendoza’s familial lineage of miners in Montana, building up to stunning swaths of shredded iridescence. “Pink River Dolphins” was inspired by a visit to the Amazon rainforest, swimming with dolphins alongside her father—the pink bufeos that inhabit both Bolivia and Columbia—and the song is dedicated to the memory of Mendoza’s late friend, the Colombian-American trumpeter jaimie branch. They shared a fascination with those intelligent and agile creatures who often communicate by echolocation. “Make a sound, it comes back around,” Mendoza sings, and later, “Echo, echo/The answer in a sound,” evoking what branch knew well: through music we navigate life. The Circular Train contains one cover, “Irene, Goodnight,” composed by Gussie Lord Davis and popularized by Leadbelly; Mendoza has been performing it for over 20 years. Almost as deeply embedded in her repertoire is the penultimate track, “The Shadow Song.” “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you good,” Mendoza sings on this song that she’s been reworking for over a decade, an emblem of devotion. “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you right,” she repeats, becoming a blues mantra. What is a shadow self if not one’s secret world, which, once laid bare, awaits an echo, a return?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

Blue vinyl repress

With a voice of pure gold and a startling sensitivity for heartfelt pop songwriting, on No Reino Dos Afetos (In the Realm of Affections), Berle firmly embraces earnestness, through starry-eyed Brazilian love songs, ambient vignettes, warm, home-cooked beats and gentle strokes of MPB genius.

Maceió, the capital of Brazil’s Alagoas state on its sprawling east-coast, is home to pastel coloured colonial houses, white sand beaches and a brilliant young composer, poet and multi-instrumentalist named Bruno Berle.

With a voice of pure gold and a startling sensitivity for heartfelt pop songwriting, on No Reino Dos Afetos (In the Realm of Affections), Berle firmly embraces earnestness, through starry-eyed Brazilian love songs, ambient vignettes, warm, home-cooked beats and gentle strokes of MPB genius.

“It’s an album that was built from my desire to find beauty”, Berle explains - his simple, graceful words mirroring the graceful simplicity in his music. But amongst the simplicity, the compositions, arrangements and productions on No Reino Dos Afetos tingle with nuance and detail.

On the contemporary R&B inspired lead single “Quero Dizer” - produced by Berle and longtime friend and collaborator Batata Boy - the swirling, lo-fi, kalimba and guitar-fronted beat is turned into a feel-good hit by the ingenuity of Berle’s honey-soaked vocal melody.

Powerfully intimate, “O Nome Do Meu Amor” (My Love’s Name) is a guaranteed tearjerker, with Berle’s stunning voice soaring over gently plucked acoustic guitar and the textural flutter of soft movement, as if we hear him writing the song in the moment.

Drawing upon a close-knit, collaborative scene of Maceió artists and musicians, (of which Berle and Batata Boy are vital members), Berle also recorded some of his friends songs on the album, including João Menezes’ “Até Meu Violao”, the album’s beautifully laid back sunshine soul opener, which has all the charm of early-70s João Donato.

Having cut his teeth in soft-rock group Troco em Bala, and more recently finding himself embedded in both Rio and Sao Paulo’s contemporary music scenes - collaborating with the likes of Ana Frango Eletrico, who took the photo for the album cover - No Reino Dos Afetos is as musically diverse as Bruno himself. It’s hazy indie rock (“É Preciso Ter Amor”), calming ambient and field recording (“Virginia Talk”) as well as Berle’s own take on West African High Life (“Som Nyame”).

Instantly recognisable as a truly special artist, Berle’s character fills every corner of the sound, which is unsurprising considering he played most of the instruments.

Founded in the late 1960s by record store owner Seidou
Adissa, Albarika Store is one of the most important
independent record labels on the African continent. That
it was founded in the relatively small ex-French colony
of Benin (then still called Dahomey), is a testament to its
founder’s musical taste and vision for what the local
musical scene had to offer.
This September, Acid Jazz releases the first ever vinyl
and CD overview of the label and its music, compiled by
David Hill of The Soul Revivers and West African
musical expert Florent Mazzoleni, who also wrote the indepth notes.
The compilation provides a look into what was a
developing and then thriving post-colonial music scene.
It focuses on the label’s biggest and most prolific act
Orchestre Poly-Rhythmo and its founder Melome
Clement – who released under a variety of names often
spotlighting on the musicians’ key to their sound. It also
looks at the other established artists on the label such
as the incendiary Les Sympathics De Porto Novo and
Les Volcans. All of these artists create a unique mix of
Westernised Funk, Soul and Latin sounds crosspollinated with the traditional music of the region.

Lucila Justina Sarcines Reyes was born on July 19, 1936, in the Rímac district. Lima, which had just mourned the death of the emblematic composer Felipe Pinglo two months earlier, was a city on the verge of modernization that clung to its colonial and racist ways. Having been born black marked a difficult path in her life: after the father's premature death and a fire that left her and her 15 siblings homeless, she takes the streets to financially support her mother, and at 5 years old learns to sing in bars while begging for money in the port of Callao. After being admitted to a Franciscan convent and studying only until the third grade of primary school, now a teenager, she returns home, but suffers an attempt of rape by her new stepfather; she is forced to move to the central neighborhood of Barrios Altos, to live with her uncle, a guitarist from the legendary Guardia Vieja, also known as the founders of the Peruvian criollo waltz. This group of non-professional musicians, made up of bricklayers, merchants, artisans, marble workers and other employees, prolonged the oral traditions of their African slave ancestors in working-class neighborhoods of the capital. While the wealthy reject the music of their peons, which they associate with alcohol and disorder, it is the workers who listen carefully to the European waltzes and Aragonese jotas at the aristocratic halls, and later, back in their famous one-pipe alleys, transform their music under the spell of the night. It is in these sociability spaces that house numerous low-income families, where these criollos cheer up birthdays, weddings, anniversaries and other parties until dawn with the trill of their guitars and cajones. It is there that Reyes, at 16 years old, picks up the legacy of the Guardia Vieja and her life changes forever: she is often asked to sing in jaranas (criollo parties), and since her voice stands out immediately, she is encouraged to make her debut on a radio show called "El Sentir de los Barrios", whereshe performs the waltz "Abandonada" by Sixto Carrera.

Tip!

Polido has been fantasizing with the idea of free music throughout his artistic career. Free from restraints, logos, musical genres, but also from this modern obsession with narratives, plans, business plans, algorithms and bubble wrapped ideas for comfort of those of you that can’t breathe without everything making sense.
“Hearing Smoke” has nothing of that. It has been four years since Holuzam released the double album “A Casa e os Cães / Sabor a Terra” and for four years I have been daydreaming about what would come next. This is it, eleven new pieces about the future of the future of music. It is the result of years of study, research and sound consolidation. Sound as matter, mutating, transforming, absorbing all around, a shapeshifting entity connecting with the principles of freedom.

"Polido has been researching Portuguese contemporary composition, its very own sounds and ideas. Its origins, the web of repression, tension and censorship before the April 25th revolution in 1974; secondly, as an afterthought, freedom, equality and a unique sense of community and belonging screaming through the music. He absorbed those states of mind and made an album that listens to the current world and presents globalization as a mental trap.
If the music that inspired him somehow comes from a post-colonial world, “Hearing Smoke” questions how we can create something new in this permanent state of cultural colonization, where new trends or forms of music only thrive if they are accepted by the dominant cultures. The physical world has been transformed, but ideas like “world music” or “ghetto music” still show that dominance, the Strange can only be accepted if it incorporates the rules and codes of that dominant force. What I am saying is that it is hard for Portuguese musicians to present themselves as original. They will never have that credit unless the music relates to something that exists in another

realm. Never for their benefit, but for the power of association. I may sound arrogant here, but Polido is unique, original, one of a kind (all those words, all those redundant synonyms). I knew it four years ago when I got lost in the way “A Casa e os Cães” is assembled and how he makes something memorable out of the most commonplace conversations. “Hearing Smoke” continues the flow and puts us in the centre of these ever evolving masses of sound.
Somehow his music finds you, it starts speaking with you until it asks you to be a part of it. Polido’s beats and harmonics are combined in such a tender way that you mellow out while listening to these beats - thinking of the brilliant “Saque”. Even when he exposes you to something more harsh - “Canto D’Amorte” or the closing moments of the last track “Custa A Crer” - there’s still a cradle effect.
But what keeps me returning to this album is how it seems to transform in my ears. Not every time I listen to it, but while I am listening to it. The sound seems to move, embracing me and controlling my inner thoughts. These start to move along at the same pace, with the same feeling of cloudiness. Nothing new here, the thing is how it feels different from time to time, how the music, because of something that changes or moves, comes as a catharsis/revelation. It drives me nuts how the beats come and go in tracks like “Fogo Firme (Encomendação)” or “The More I Think, The Less I Can Speak“, leaving everything suspended and, simultaneously, relieved. When dramatic - ”Prova De Existência“ - it is sad af and gorgeously epic.

Trap, bass music, dubstep, ambient, hauntology and contemporary music flow side by side here, no pushing around, free of interpretation, and you are free to feel or listen to whatever you want in “Hearing Smoke”. That’s free music for you. Not a hard concept, something for you to enjoy, feel, reflect about. This is what the future will sound like."

André Santos // Holuzam

On August 16, Toronto-based musician and producer David Psutka aka ACT! (fka Egyptrixx / Anamai / Ceramic TL) will release his latest project ‘Face to Face, Day by Day’ for his own Halocline Trance imprint.

This is is Psutka’s third album proper as ACT! following the release of the “sonic mixtape” ‘Universalist’ in 2018 and the augmented reality soundtrack ‘Grey Matter AR’ in 2021; a series of Snapchat filters created by artist Karen Vanderborght and soundtracked by ACT! which explored the poetic and existential potential of AR and social media.

“Aesthetic accidents in the periphery of the ‘work’ can be the message. In 2018, at an Egyptrixx concert at Bagni Misteriosi de Teatro Franco Parenti - a gorgeous, sprawling outdoor pool theatre in Milan - I had a clarifying moment. Gigs around then had mostly been in pummelling, dark music venues, so I wasn't prepared for this expansive space (and the thoughtful work of the organisers who had layered sheets of plastic film on the pool to parallel eco-materialist themes from a previous album). It was the midday soundcheck that struck me most - brittle digital sounds from the set echoed off the colonial Milanese facades and ricocheted down the Via Carlo Botta, pinging off buildings in the distance and clashing with the noise of traffic, tourists and whatever else. It was a strange, collisionist moment, and a reminder that my essential approach to music is, above all, a preoccupation with the materiality of sound. 

Everything on Face to Face, Day by Day began as an improvisation. Openness to accidents and the emotional complexity that comes from centering them in composition has become important to my work, and helps the music go beyond the possibility of what is playable, imaginable. I also wanted to channel adventurous solo pop records of the 1970’s and 80’s, like Yasuaki Shimizu, Jon + Vangelis and Stevie Wonder. These came from an interesting era in commercial music as studio production techniques became increasingly formalised as compositional devices, like AMS RMX16 percussion sounds and early digital stereo effects. 

Like many musicians, I’ve been travelling and performing less since the pandemic and as a result, have wanted studio sessions to feel more collaborative and improvisational. There were great writing and recording sessions for this album. Vox, synth, sax and guitar jams - much of what ended up on the record isn’t edited much, if at all. I jammed a sm57 into Colin Fisher’s sax bell and created feedback loops using various preamps and distortion units. The clunky sounds were sampled and used as percussion elements. I also had a great synth jam session with Jeremy Greenspan at Barton Building Studio in Hamilton, which was recorded by filmmaker Liz Adler. 

I’ve had a few months to sit with this album and see clear throughlines connecting it to previous projects. There are aspects of the experiential and structuralist sound design ideas from the EGYPTRIXX records; and also some arrangement tricks borrowed from ANAMAI - specifically, the use of interruptionist sound events. Perhaps most of all, it feels connected to the Ceramic TL + Ipek Gorgun record ‘Perfect Lung’ and its splattered take on musical complexity. “ (David Psutka)

In addition to ACT!, Psutka has released music with numerous projects including Anamai, Egyptrixx and Ceramic TL, he has collaborated widely with artists such as Junior Boys, Ipek Gorgun, and Kuedo as well as Jessy Lanza (2016) and an official remix for Massive Attack’s ‘Hymn of the Big Wheel (2012). The contributions on this album, from Robin Dann and Ben Gunning, reflect the deeply collaborative nature of the Halocline Trance label and the Toronto creative scene more broadly.

Many of Psutka’s releases have received critical acclaim from media outlets such as Pitchfork, Exclaim, The Quietus and Resident Advisor. As a live performer, he has toured extensively including performing at Sonar Festival, Roskilde, Mutek, MOMA PS1 Warm-UP and CTM Festival. He’s also presented sound installations at various institutions such as Galeria Civica Commune di Modena, and Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO).

In 2015, Psutka launched Halocline Trance as a home for his various sound projects, events and collaborations. Now a creative collective and label, it has grown to include a diverse array of artists including Casey MQ, Xuan Ye, Myst Milano, Colin Fisher and others. The label is described as “genre-agnostic” and conceptually open, supporting work across a wide spectrum of creative fields including soundtrack recording, AR design and traditional artist albums. Their impeccable roster also includes, theorist/improviser Eldritch Priest, and AR/VR artist Karen Vanderborght. In recent years, Halocline Trance has established itself as a platform that facilitates many of Canada’s most exciting creative music projects. Many of the releases have received critical acclaim from outlets including Pitchfork, Exclaim, Bandcamp and Resident Advisor.

Coke Bottle Green vinyl. Who were the first punks? Do The Damned have more of a shout than The Sex Pistols? The Stooges or Ramones? Gregg Deal, the acclaimed visual and performance artist behind his new project Dead Pioneers, is making a claim that Indigenous Americans were the first real punks. Deal suggests that the overarching theme of the album is "an introduction to the band itself". Created with a DIY disposition and the "love of a scene that saves lives", they reel off a roll call of marginalised groups and protected characteristics: "Indigenous rights, Black rights, Brown rights, Asian rights, Gay rights, Trans rights, Workers rights and beyond_". This is central to their identity and focus, saying that "with a North American Indigenous person as the vocalist, being unapologetically upfront on the social, political and cultural side of things doesn't seem necessary, but paramount to the overall tone of the band." This self-titled debut, coming in at a lithe 22 minutes with only one of the twelve tracks exceeding three minutes, is almost over before it begins, but covers a huge amount of ground in that time. Blistering opener 'Tired' sets out their stall; as with the whole album, it is passionate, but never preaching. Capitalised 'Political Music' can be hard to land without coming across as hectoring or earnest, but Deal's literary, humorous lyrics effortlessly cut through complex issues of marginalisation and colonialism.

Death Is Not The End together all three LP volumes of the critically acclaimed If I Had a Pair of Wings LP compilation series for a bundled edition.

"...all of the music on this compilation is the result of the forward-thinking artists and producers that realised the worth of local Jamaican artistry during a time when the island's leading political figures had not yet managed to throw off the colonial yolk. These are sounds with a certain innocence and the optimistic promise of better to come, with the influence of American pop ballads and doo-wop looming large, yet already pointing to the innovations of the future. Listen keenly and take in the sounds of the Jamaican music industry at its very beginnings, its singers and players drawing from the popular styles of the island's larger neighbour and already changing those styles into something their own." - David Katz

Lauren Laverne's comp of the week on BBC Radio 6 Music w/c 11th Jan.

Repress
Dry mix only single LP edition, reverb mix of 2LP edition excluded.

Issued in 1975, this is the articulation of Zambia’s Zamrock ethos. Its' musicians were anti-colonial freedom fighters, it envelops Zambian folk music traditions, and it rocks - hard. Amanaz were serious, and they made a serious stab at an album. They titled their album Africa, according to original band member Keith Kabwe, “because of how it was shared and how its inhabitants were butchered and enslaved, its resources stolen... all the atrocities slave drivers committed. “ Thus, their “Kale,” a blues sung in Nyanja, that traced the continent’s arc from slavery to Zambia’s independence closes the album. Kabwe and rhythm guitarist John Kanyepa have a winsome softness to their vocals, which sit politely aside the feral growl of drummer Watson Baldwin Lungu, bassist Jerry Mausala and bandleader/lead guitarist Isaac Mpofu. Africa’s vibe ranges from anxious (“Amanaz”) to escapist (“Easy Street”) to straight-up pissed-off. On the “History of Man,” his voice whiskey-burned, his distorted guitar buzzing like swarming hornets, Mpofu indicts his species. There’s a darkness to Africa not found on any other Zamrock records, and a melancholy drifts throughout, specifically on Mpofu’s more restrained “Khala My Friend,” which stands as an effective, bleak situation for the Zambian everyman, the average citizen of a struggling, new nation, who might have had relatives in conflict-torn countries on the horizon, who might have been struggling to find his next meal, who might have seen a bleaker future than his president promised. Then there’s the clear Velvet Underground-influence on the nostalgic “Sunday Morning,” which, as Kabwe recalls, was the first song written for the album, back in 1968, when Velvet Undergound and Nico was a new release - and the underground funk of “Making The Scene.” The album also tackles traditional Zambian music and early-‘60s rock – punctuated, of course by Kanyepa’s wah-wah and Mpofu’s fuzz guitars. But every time Amanaz get too deep, too violent, they come back with an accessible song and woo their listener back to the groove. “Green Apple” is a civil song, featuring Kanyepa’s sighing guitar.

Irresistible Brazilian blues reggae from the heart of the Amazon rainforest. A psychedelic guarana induced trip and ode to the fading indigenous cultures and shifting hegemony in Brazil. This one-off release by Manaus native Natacha Fink was originally written in 1986 as the lead track on NOSSA MUSICA - a compilation celebrating regional music from the Amazon. Emerging out of the dictatorship, Natacha and her fellow artists rejected the aesthetic standards driven by internal colonialism and sought out new ways to express themselves away from the styles of the dominant Rio-São Paulo axis. What surfaced was a melodic blend of genres, with Natacha’s haunting vocals and playful lyrics gliding over an arrangement of guitars and double bass. Vocal backing is led by Torrinho, well known for his layered composition style, whose song ‘Porto de Lenha’ is recognised throughout Amazonas as an unofficial anthem. Hidden within the Amazon, Pirarublue lies in that wonderful space between innocence and honesty. Proudly exploring cultural and ecological spaces through a refreshing, ghostly infectious groove. For fans of Gal Costa, Elis Regina, Chico César, Jorge Ben Jor and Joni Mitchell.

Accompanying Natacha’s beguiling single is the field recording “Unseen Songlines” by artist and academic Nimalan Yoganathan. The composition immerses the listener in the soundscapes of Mamori Lake, a remote village inside the Brazilian Amazon. Nimalan explores the ambiguous perception of sounds emanating from the dense rainforest and deep beneath the Amazon River, where we hear the sounds but cannot see their sources: an acousmatic concert performed by the rainforest itself. Processed field recordings of birds and frogs, as well as underwater hydrophone recordings of dolphins and fish subtly weave throughout electroacoustic textures and beats. The listener is invited to hone in on the musical subtleties hidden throughout the environment. The compositional methods employed in this piece draw on the concepts of sonic rupture, presence, absence and memory found in the dub music tradition.

This limited edition 7” by Sticky Buttons puts these two outlying works together for a unique listening experience, combining the human and more-than-human experience of life at the heart of Brazil. Both uniquely Amazonian but with a universal appeal.

The legendary Belgian label Antler is coming back to life! Pioneering in the 80' and 90's and an absolute spearhead in the world of post-punk, cold and new wave, EBM, electro...

a series of albums and compilations from the extensive Antler archives are now being released again. The first compilation 'Early Years Vol. 1” was received with great enthusiasm and flew out the door. Now there is already Vol. 2 with again carefully chosen gems from the rich Antler archives with early recordings of influential bands such as The Scabs, Arbeid Adelt!, Nacht und Nebel, A Split Second, Neon Judgment... a fascinating sample of the Belgian alternative scene in the 1980s.

Moor Mother is an American musician, poet, and interdisciplinary artist known for her avant-garde and experimental work. The Great Bailout is an expansive meditation that acts as a non-linear word map about colonialism, slavery, and commerce in Great Britain. Featuring guest contributions from Lonnie Holley, Angel Bat Dawid & Sistas of the Nitty Gritty, Vijay Iyer, Mary Lattimore, and more, it"s Moor Mother"s most uncompromising vision to date. Moor Mother has gained recognition for her unique blend of spoken word, noise, and electronic music, addressing themes of race, gender, and socio-political issues. She hails from Philadelphia and has been an influential figure in the city"s vibrant arts and music scene. She has received critical acclaim for her albums, with reviewers praising her fearless approach to sound and her thought-provoking lyrical content on albums like "Jazz Codes" and "Analog Fluids of Sonic Black Holes", showcasing her boundary-pushing sonic experiments.

These recordings of Gongs Orchestras were made during Funeral Ceremonies in two Kung villages and one Jaraï village in Ratanakiri province, Cambodia by Laurent Jeanneau (Kink Gong) in 2003 and 2004, at a times when jungle had not been replaced by rubber plantations. Focusing on funeral's ceremonies, those hypnotics pieces are intense and haunting harmonics sonic experiments.

"Adventure brought me to south-east Asia, not academic research. I was based on and off in Banlung, capital of Ratanakiri province between 2003 and 2006. Finding gongs orchestras became my obsession, I've witnessed different contexts in which gongs were being performed, but the most brainwashing ceremonies were the funerals, because they would never end, I remember leaving the 3 days funeral ceremony of a prominent Jaraï dead man in Tang ji village at the border with Vietnam and still hearing the gongs the entire next day going back home through the jungle". - Laurent Jeanneau (Kink Gong)

"Many of the ethnic minority groups, the Jarai, Kac_, Tampuan, Kavet, Kreung, Brao, Bunong, Mnong, Edé, and others, are hill-rice farmers who live in the uplands of the Annamite mountain chain. Collectively these groups have been known by many names, including a number of disparaging terms in local dialects, such as moï, kha, phnong, and others. The term Montagnard was applied to them by the French during the colonial period, and was used by the US military and in popular discourse in English during the United States-Vietnam War. In scholarly and popular literature during the mid-twentieth century these upland farmers were also called hill tribes. I have opted for the word highlanders as a relatively neutral term that avoids the semantic burdens associated with these other namings." - Jonathan Padwe, The book Disturbed forests fragmented memories.

With their profound take on electronic music, Animistic Beliefs have steadily solidified their spot in the global underground. Influenced by cultural concepts such as ancestry, animism and mythology, as well as the languages of political techno, punk, bubbling and IDM, Linh Luu and Marvin Lalihatu consistently translate their visions into sensitive productions as well as high-octane live performances. On MERDEKA, the artists explore and embrace their cultural heritage in all of its pride, pain and complexity. It symbolizes Animistic Beliefs' breaking free, coming to terms with their changing selves and letting go of external expectations. The record rethinks childhood memories, confronts the generational trauma left by (post-)colonialism, and re-connects Linh and Marvin â?? respectively of Vietnamese-Chinese and Dutch-Moluccan descent â?? with their formative cultures. MERDEKA marks their first step in an overall departure from western club music. For its layered sound, Animistic Beliefs once again draw from the past, present and future of global club music, creating a sonic space where fast techno, warped breakbeats and ambient soundscapes make way for the augmented influence of (Southeast Asian) tribal music. The record incorporates Indonesian scales and recordings of the Tahuri (a wind instrument made out of a conch shell), Totobuang (Gamelan-like gongs) and Tifa drums, known as â??the Moluccan heartbeatâ??. In true Animistic Beliefs fashion, MERDEKA will set fire to sweltering clubs and (sleepless) dreams. Yet, for the artists, it is essential to amplify the stories that spark that flame and keep it burning. The release of MERDEKA follows CACHE/SPIRIT, their ongoing collaboration with visual artist Jeisson Drenth, which extensively explores the artistsâ?? intersectional identities. As such, the latest album is the next step within a bigger, introspective investigation. More unapologetic than ever, MERDEKA embodies a turning point on Animistic Beliefsâ?? ongoing journey towards self-acceptance â?? fuelled by the sound of urgency.

»Tropic of Capricorn« is the second album by Lawrence English and Werner Dafeldecker. Based on field recordings made by the prolific Room40 owner that were subtly but decisively altered with electroacoustic techniques through the German improv legend, these two long-form pieces blur the lines between acoustic ecology and aesthetic interventions, concrete local sound worlds and boundary-defying art. They put a focus on our relationship with nature as listeners as much as they call into question where nature ends and human perception begins. They are deeply confusing, disorienting perhaps, in the most beautiful ways.

English recorded the material that form the basis of the duo’s Hallow Ground debut on two different field trips. One led him from the Western coast to the Pilbara region in the North of the country called Australia, the other to the central desert into the lands of the Arrernte people. »These are vast spaces, and in some respects they shun contemporary ideas of civilisation which seek not to listen to the country,« says English. When recording the soundscapes, the artist put a focus on the residues of failed colonial aspirations. »The buildings and objects that remain from the failed cattle pastures and other endeavours create uneasy sound worlds of their own,« he says of the regions that are also places of extraction, especially the heavily mined Pilbara. »There is a distant drone of industry in even the most remote of places; an unsettled sense of heavy breath on the land.« He brought home a document of natural reclamation in time.

The rich source material was then given to Dafeldecker. Spatialising the recordings with transducers applied to different surfaces such as wood, stretched animal skin, glass, or metal surfaces and also re-recording parts of the recordings, he created discrete events that were inserted into, or rather enmeshed with English’s recordings. You’ll hear plenty of birdsong, insect noises and the sound of rain during these 39 minutes; the sounds of a life you can tap into if you tune into your environment. But there are also other things, things that are impossible to categorise even after repeated listens and that call into question whether or not those were really birds, insects, or the sound of rain in the first place. What »Tropic of Capricorn« invites its listeners to listen beyond the preconceived notions of how nature is supposed to be represented in sound and to instead embrace the immediacy of the sensation.