Search:come to grief

FFO: Melvins, Big Business, Torche, Karp, Lightning Bolt, Red Fang. Super limited vinyl, first press is transparent-y orange. Based in Sheffield, POHL is a stunning and brutal noise rock duo, featuring former Hey Colossus axeman Will Pearce on guitar/vocals, and drummer Dr Linda Westman of Toronto-based death metal two-piece, Old Hope. This July the band releases their debut album Mysteries; a sonic tome which draws as much from MF Doom as it does doom metal. It’s a swirling, cosmic onslaught of heavy motorik riffs and offhand musings about everything and nothing in equal measure. New single ‘The Whale’ summons the glorious thunder pop of Torche, the pithy lyricism of Karp and the DIY derring-do ethos of Guided by Voices. As guitarist/vocalist Will Pearce explains: “I suppose you could say that Mysteries is an album about grief. How we live with grief, and how we overcome it. When you’re trapped in the belly of the beast, and all seems lost - how do you come back from that? All I can say is that sometimes you eat the whale, and sometimes the whale eats you." Pearce, who played with Hey Colossus on their 2019 album Four Bibles and 2020’s Dances/Curses is thrilled to be teaming up once more with former bandmates Joe Thompson and Chris Summerlin and their Wrong Speed Records imprint. Recorded at the band’s own Cool World studio and mixed by serial collaborator and producer Wayne Adams, Mysteries is many things, often all at the same time. Veering from biblical allusions to fragmented Burroughsian cut-ups, it is at once mystical, profane, sacred, and scatological. Profoundly stupid, perhaps? Or just stupidly profound… either way, Mysteries demands your attention

Going solo while still keeping intact his devotion to RS Produções, Nuno appears as a true heartbreaker. Silky, space soul, why not even risk the patented future r&b? But this music exists and manifests itself apart from the established production centres, the golden arches of hype edifices and synthetic promotion regurgitated by a thousand cloned fingers. "Sai Do Coração" is a very brave, romantic improbability, shying away from DJ bravado and dancefloor top speed. Through these grooves comes a pure distillation of love, an alchemical sublimatio resulting in the much sought-after "higher substance", a bright globe issuing rays of affection all around.

With love we most likely also buy into a degree of suffering, and though this is not at all the ID of the album, Nuno explicitly connects the two sentiments in "N'Dengue", a cathartic cold cut one grows to cherish intensely by the time it is over. It's a key moment, grief pours out, liberation achieved in the dance - "I will love, I will suffer, I will shout, I will dance". Flip to the other side for "Confusão No Ghetto", another gritty expression, a richly percussive, slow tempo observation of things gone wrong. All the rest in the album feels simple, direct and yet sophisticated like photosynthesis. Like the soil, through which geological becomes biological. Nuno whips up a variety of textures and flavours into the invisible form of Music, romantic fiction into action.

Prolific singer-songwriter Kathryn Williams and recently reinvigorated troubadour Dan Willson (aka Withered Hand) have announced a collaboration album, ‘Willson Williams’, out April 26th.

‘Willson Williams’ witnesses the meeting of two likeminded musicians who’ve built their successful, independent careers on inventive folk instrumentation, reflective and sincere lyricism, and not a small amount of self-deprecation. Their modest confessionals, written poetically and over nostalgic and atmospheric melodies, are as relatable as ever, and together they find new ways to unpack their feelings.

One overarching theme on the album is that of grief, when the writing process saw them both, tragically, in mourning for separate loved ones; Dan for his brother Karl and his friend Scott Hutchinson of Frightened Rabbit, and Kathryn for her friend, comedian and BBC Radio 4 presenter Jeremy Hardy. They explain that “the initial premise and starting point for us was discussions and open conversations on bereavement. We’d both recently lost friends who were also in the public eye, and we talked about the strange place between personal loss and the communal grieving of a public figure”. Contrastingly, the music on ‘Willson Williams’ is warm, heartfelt and even cheerful, an opposing nature that is completely in keeping with both their humour and candidness.

Prolific singer-songwriter Kathryn Williams and recently reinvigorated troubadour Dan Willson (aka Withered Hand) have announced a collaboration album, ‘Willson Williams’, out April 26th.

‘Willson Williams’ witnesses the meeting of two likeminded musicians who’ve built their successful, independent careers on inventive folk instrumentation, reflective and sincere lyricism, and not a small amount of self-deprecation. Their modest confessionals, written poetically and over nostalgic and atmospheric melodies, are as relatable as ever, and together they find new ways to unpack their feelings.

One overarching theme on the album is that of grief, when the writing process saw them both, tragically, in mourning for separate loved ones; Dan for his brother Karl and his friend Scott Hutchinson of Frightened Rabbit, and Kathryn for her friend, comedian and BBC Radio 4 presenter Jeremy Hardy. They explain that “the initial premise and starting point for us was discussions and open conversations on bereavement. We’d both recently lost friends who were also in the public eye, and we talked about the strange place between personal loss and the communal grieving of a public figure”. Contrastingly, the music on ‘Willson Williams’ is warm, heartfelt and even cheerful, an opposing nature that is completely in keeping with both their humour and candidness.

At once a hazy relic and a digital snapshot of the human experience, Your Day Will Come is the debut album from Chanel Beads, arriving April 19 via Jagjaguwar. The remarkable project announces the arrival of New York-based musician Shane Lavers as a new force in experimental music, capturing the many contradictions of modern existence and the strange infiniteness of the digital world. The songs feel like a memory in which you can't distinguish between what actually happened or what was a false reproduction in your mind - although the burning emotion remains intact. Lavers pushed himself to strip his own sense of ego from “Your Day Will Come”. Throughout, Lavers weaves in contributions from his live bandmates, singer-songwriter Maya McGrory (Colle) and experimental instrumentalist Zachary Paul, who offer their own layers of feeling. As McGrory offers a more full-bodied tone and Lavers often sings with his higher-pitched head voice, the two collaborators meet in the middle; it's an intermingling of identities or a subconscious pining for androgyny. In this slippery space, different perspectives merge together, and there's a sense of empathy and humility that arises from the blending of these voices. These days, Chanel Beads live shows see all three performers weaving together in absolute catharsis. This catharsis is pushed to its peak on "Idea June," which sees McGrory taking over lead vocals to project Lavers' lyrics. As McGrory sings, "The waves wash onto my shore," in a voice that's both earnest and digitally processed, it's as though she's speaking as a separate embodiment of Lavers. In under two minutes, the track of clunky acoustic guitar and gutting strings lands somewhere between detachment and kinship. Similar to the off-kilter structure of "Police Scanner," these songs are strangely affecting in their unfinished and liminal forms. Lavers, who is drawn to poor MP3 rips and transitional moments in DJ mixes, knows that these inexact musical artifacts evoke human imperfection. The title of Your Day Will Come could be read as a promise of the arrival of good karma, or it could be a reminder of one's mortality, said out of spite. Yet as Lavers unpacks the haunting feelings of the past that he must release in order to move into his future, he reminds us that grief and hope might be closer than they seem to the naked eye.

At once a hazy relic and a digital snapshot of the human experience, Your Day Will Come is the debut album from Chanel Beads, arriving April 19 via Jagjaguwar. The remarkable project announces the arrival of New York-based musician Shane Lavers as a new force in experimental music, capturing the many contradictions of modern existence and the strange infiniteness of the digital world. The songs feel like a memory in which you can't distinguish between what actually happened or what was a false reproduction in your mind - although the burning emotion remains intact. Lavers pushed himself to strip his own sense of ego from “Your Day Will Come”. Throughout, Lavers weaves in contributions from his live bandmates, singer-songwriter Maya McGrory (Colle) and experimental instrumentalist Zachary Paul, who offer their own layers of feeling. As McGrory offers a more full-bodied tone and Lavers often sings with his higher-pitched head voice, the two collaborators meet in the middle; it's an intermingling of identities or a subconscious pining for androgyny. In this slippery space, different perspectives merge together, and there's a sense of empathy and humility that arises from the blending of these voices. These days, Chanel Beads live shows see all three performers weaving together in absolute catharsis. This catharsis is pushed to its peak on "Idea June," which sees McGrory taking over lead vocals to project Lavers' lyrics. As McGrory sings, "The waves wash onto my shore," in a voice that's both earnest and digitally processed, it's as though she's speaking as a separate embodiment of Lavers. In under two minutes, the track of clunky acoustic guitar and gutting strings lands somewhere between detachment and kinship. Similar to the off-kilter structure of "Police Scanner," these songs are strangely affecting in their unfinished and liminal forms. Lavers, who is drawn to poor MP3 rips and transitional moments in DJ mixes, knows that these inexact musical artifacts evoke human imperfection. The title of Your Day Will Come could be read as a promise of the arrival of good karma, or it could be a reminder of one's mortality, said out of spite. Yet as Lavers unpacks the haunting feelings of the past that he must release in order to move into his future, he reminds us that grief and hope might be closer than they seem to the naked eye.

Facing the tragic passing of both his brother and grandfather, as well as the looming pandemic, The Juniper Berries’ Josh Stirm hit upon a strange realization. “The grief felt weirdly impersonal,” The Austin-based multi-instrumentalist says. “More than losing family members, it brought me a broader understanding of what it means to love people and lose them.” Stirm turned that overwhelming connection to the very idea of connection into Death and Texas (due April 19th, 2024 via Earth Libraries), a set of character-driven tracks that explore loss as an affirmation of life.

"Death and Texas" by The Juniper Berries includes the following tracks: "Colleen", "The Home Team", "Stephanie", "Walk Home" and more.
This version of the album comes as a 1LP with a Lyrics & Sticker Insert.

Following 2022' acclaimed 'Topical Dancer' album with Charlotte Adigéry, here comes 'Letter To Yu', the debut solo album by Bolis Pupul : produced by fellow Belgians Soulwax & released on DEEWEE/Because Music. Exploring many themes including loss, grief, ancestry, culture, belonging/not belonging and identity. It's no coincidence that Bolis Pupul's music sounds the way it does. Born in Belgium to a Chinese mother and Belgian father and raised in the super-cool creative city of Ghent, Bolis' music is a joyous cross-cultural assemblage. Mixing widescreen electronica with the warm-hearted and wonky naivete of Belgian New Beat, Bolis' singular sonics are at once playful, emotive, unrelenting and tender. The real key to unlocking Bolis' musical secret, however, is that conversation he has between his Eastern and Western roots. The creation of the album is built around Bolis' trip to Hong Kong earlier this year, made to reconnect with his late mother's roots.

A cycle of songs about dead dogs. Dealing with loss, grief and loneliness, they recount the tales of lost dogs both real, metaphoric and mythic, and use our relationship with and treatment of dogs as a measure of our humanity.

Collaborating as The Unattached on this record are Joad R Wren, sister Gwenifer Raymond, uncle Neil White, and daughter Celia, along with friends Darren Hayman, Ian Button, John McGrath and Holly Rogers.

Joad notes: "The album was written and recorded during the height of the pandemic. I've no idea why it's taken so long to release it. I do know that it's a great pleasure to work – even at a distance – with such talented musicians, with many amazing albums in their back catalogues."

The final song was a surprise – especially to Joad – as Neil wrote it years ago about a forgotten dog, and it fitted beautifully as a coda here.

The songs are at once lush, sensitive, bleak and unflinching - there's a similar feeling to something like Lou Reed's 'Berlin', or the darker moments of Roy Harper. The LP comes in a numbered, hand-printed linocut sleeve with a 20 page booklet of lyrics and art.

The sleeve is a bit special. The oil-based ink used on this hand-printed sleeve may feel sticky to touch, and can potentially transfer to other surfaces. Please handle and store this record carefully.

It's an edition of 100, and because of the hand-printing process each cover is imperfectly unique and uniquely imperfect (and hand numbered).

Maya Youssef is a multi-award winning musician and composer from Syria. She is hailed as ‘queen of the qanun,’ the 78-stringed Middle Eastern plucked zither. Maya’s intense and thoughtful music is rooted in the Arabic classical tradition but forges pathways into Western classical and contemporary styles. It explores the emotional and healing qualities of music.

The 'Finding Home' is a journey through memories and the essence of home both within and without in the search of that place of peace, comfort, and healing which manifests in everyone in a unique way.

Maya wrote this album during a time of spiritual awakening. Over time she has come to accept the loss of her homeland and in the process of grieving (which she explored in her Album Syrian Dreams in 2018) Maya has found a much greater sense of home in the most spiritual sense.

“As any Syrian will tell you, there is this overwhelming sense of loss and an overwhelming sense of grief. Because that world which existed before the war started, despite it naturally having problems, was a beautiful world with a booming economy, artistic scene, film festivals and visiting international artists, Damascus was the third safest city in the world. The loss of that world was heart wrenching and, in a way, steered me towards a universal concept of home.

The main trigger that made me create Syrian Dreams was the Syrian war and the loss of my homeland. And it's only by embarking on that spiritual journey of constant meditation and of finding home within God and within myself that I started to feel consolable and started to feel that I have my own home within me. I felt that the world is my home and humanity is my home. With my latest album I want to take people through a transformative journey, where they land in that place of home for them. No matter how that will look like for each person.” Maya Youssef

If the Corona pandemic and the accompanying concert bans have at least one good thing going for them, it's the extra time musicians have to write songs and live out their creativity. This circumstance was also the driving force for the SAMURAI PIZZA CATS, who come from the Electric Callboy environment. Frontman Sebastian Fischer was behind the microphone in their predecessor band Her Smile In Grief, whose line-up also included Daniel "Danskimo" Haniß, who is now celebrating success as guitarist, songwriter and producer of Electric Callboy. The contact between the two never broke off and so Daniel also produced Sebastian's later band Fall Of Gaia in recent years, whose former drummer and multi-instrumentalist Stefan Buchwald is also involved in this new project - family business from downtown Castrop Rauxel! So while Stefan contributes the music, Sebastian writes the lyrics and Daniel, as a creatively involved producer, ensures a well-rounded overall result. Okay, before we try your patience any further, let's talk about the elephant in the room: the band name. The SAMURAI PIZZA CATS have named themselves after a Japanese anime series from the early nineties. Why? Stupid question! Of course, because they are fearless warriors on their instruments, love to eat pizza and like cats! And maybe a little bit because they have soft spots for anime and silly band names - but only maybe. Rumour also has it that "Banzai! Smack! Meow!" is an onomatopoeic description of the band's sound.

Colbie Caillat is a master storyteller whose breezy SoCal folk-pop songs laced with a country shimmer speak truth to both the pain of endings and hopefulness of what’s to come when you’re brave enough to follow your wild, wild heart. Along The Way, Caillat’s solo country debut, embodies the positivity in heartbreak’s wake. Though her move to Nashville was done as one-half of a romantic partnership - a personal and professional adventure to the southern city for this west coast girl - she thrived in all of life’s changes. In her musical journey and experimentation with new sounds, Caillat vividly captured a moment in her life through song. The California-raised, Nashville-based girl delivered songs with gratitude for having known this love, learned so many lessons and the joys shared along the way. “The love that you shared shouldn’t be wasted: you help each other grow and become a wiser and more evolved person. We needed to be together to become who we are today, even if we didn’t end up together.” If Joni Mitchell’s quintessential Blue is the deep dive into the caverns of grief following a break-up, Along The Way is a bright, shiny compass Caillat offers to guide people through the tough times and raw feelings that accompany any dissolution. Lover, leaver, left, the woman who’s sung at the Nobel Peace Prize Concert wants to sow compassion for all parties involved.

Multi-instrumentalist, composer, performer and curator L’Rain (Taja Cheek) returns with her third album I Killed Your Dog. Over-writing themes of grief and identity that informed her previous work, I Killed Your Dog considers what it means to hurt the people you love the most. Multi-layered in subject and form, L’Rain’s sonic explorations interrogate instead how multiplicities of emotion and experience intersect with identity. The experimental and the hyper-commercial; the expectation and the reality; the hope and the despair. “I’m envisioning a world of contradictions, as always,” Cheek explains. “Sensual, maybe even sexy, but terrifying, and strange.” Written amidst heartbreaks from the perspective of an earned maturity, I Killed Your Dog takes the sonic world laid out by L’Rain in 2021’s album Fatigue on a compelling new trajectory. Described by Cheek as an “anti-break-up” record, I Killed Your Dog takes the universal pop theme of love as its starting point – bold, bratty and even a touch diabolical – and inspects it through the form of a conversation with her younger self, untangling her relationship with femininity and the formal musical conventions that others have come to expect of her. Alongside long-time collaborators Andrew Lappin and Ben Chapoteau-Katz, Cheek has developed L’Rain into a shape-shifting entity that blurs the distinction between band and individual

“I’m still learning how to experience joy, how to be free, how to be comfortable in my own
skin,” says Jaime Wyatt. “A lot of us grow up feeling like we have to hide who we are just
to be accepted, but that comes from a place of fear and judgment. I wrote these songs as
a way of letting go of all that, as permission to feel good.” Feel Good, Wyatt’s extraordinary
new album, is more than just a permission slip, though: it’s an invitation. Recorded with
Black Pumas’ Adrian Quesada, the record is bold and ecstatic, built on tight, intoxicating
grooves that belie the songs’ substantial emotional stakes. Wyatt’s writing is raw and
intuitive here, tapping into the deep recesses of her subconscious as she reckons with
grief and growth, and her delivery is visceral to match, cutting straight to the bone with
equal parts sensitivity and swagger. Taken as a whole, the collection stands as a radical
act of creative liberation from an artist already known for pushing limits, a genre-defying
work of healing and self-love that tips its cap to everything from Al Green and Otis
Redding to Waylon Jennings and Bobbie Gentry in its relentless pursuit of peace and
pleasure.

Tyresta's Small Hours album (a direct follow-up to 2020's All We Have) comes on beautiful 180-gram splatter green vinyl via Past Inside The Present and is another majestically subtle and intimate ambient work that explores "impermanence, grief, loss, healing, and growth". It's an album that reveals more with each listen as the carefully layered-up synths and melodies intertwine harmoniously to make for a perfect late-night soundtrack. There's plenty of soul searching to be done while lost in the midst of this album, but it will be a rewarding task as you cannot fail to find "solace, rejuvenation, and a rekindling of the unfettered spirit," as the label puts it.

There will always be another peak to summit and boundary to break. END stretch their second full-length offering, The Sin of Human Frailty, beyond its very limits with a fierce commitment to unwavering unpredictability and uncompromising intensity. The New Jersey quintet counts producer and guitarist Will Putney, vocalist Brendan Murphy, guitarist Gregory Thomas, bassist Jay Pepito, and drummer Matt Guglielmo among its ranks. These musicians deliver a concentrated barrage like no other on, The Sin of Human Frailty Closed Casket Activities.

END initially materialized during 2017. The group’s From the Unforgiving Arms of God EP spawned the fan favorite “Necessary Death,” and lead to a signing with label Closed Casket Activities. Highlighted by “Covet Not” and “Absence,” the band bulldozed the senses with their 2020 full-length debut, Splinters From an Ever-Changing Face. Brooklyn Vegan hailed “Pariah” as “an absolutely filthy dose of modern metalcore,” and Kerrang went as far as to describe their Debut LP as, “catharsis fed through a distortion pedal and shaped into a dense, destructive wrecking ball” Perhaps, Invisible Oranges put it best, “These gentlemen have come together to summon a fury seldom heard on any album from the realms of hardcore, grind, and black metal…”

In March of 2020, after learning that a dear friend’s life was coming to an end, Johansing sat down and in one sitting wrote the song “Daffodils”. An elegiac tribute to someone facing death with grace and curiosity, the lyrics confront Johansing’s own mortality by observing the brief lifespan of a Hlower. Only a week later when the world came to an abrupt standstill, she soon found herself processing this recent loss while trying to make sense of a new global reality. Across the ensuing months, Johansing found herself increasingly untethered by a world of isolation and political upheaval.

Having been a frequent touring member of bands like Hand Habits and Fruit Bats, and often being called into the studio to lend her harmonies and multi-instrumental talents to records, Johansing’s phone no longer rang. Living in Los Angeles she feared her musical community was vanishing, as friends and collaborators continually announced they were leaving the city. It was in returning to her piano nightly that she found the greatest solace, feverishly writing the songs that would be collected on her next album. Resulting from this new sense of time and focus was a deepening of her songwriting. As Johansing recalls, “I felt like a metamorphosis happened during that time. There was a lot of personal growth and healing.”

Throughout Year Away Johansing traverses uncharted emotional landscapes brought upon by the changes occurring all around her. The forced self-reflection of the moment is aptly captured by “Old Friend”, featuring an aching melody and swooning production that recalls the best of Harry Nilsson. The epic piano and saxophone-driven “Smile with My Eyes” addresses the loss of community as friends became distant and political divides between family grew. On “Smile” Johansing pushes her vocals further than ever, expanding her range and using her peerless voice as the singular instrument it is. Facing the loss of a family home due to environmental destruction, “Shifting Sands” is marked by soaring Hlutes, Hield recordings and glassy synthesizers that nod to Japanese New Age.

“Daffodils”, the stunning album centerpiece, is built from a pastiche of looping samples, swirling Mellotron and dazzling vibraphone. “Keep your heart open wide, you never know your time / Keep your heart wild, true Hlower child”, Johansing sings as she says goodbye to an elder, while the band reaches a grief-stricken crescendo of woodwinds and chiming bells. On the title track, Johansing takes listeners on an eerily meditative journey of collective experiences. “I wanted to keep the progression simple and repetitive so that musically we could add new elements little by little, while the emotional tone of the lyrics becomes increasingly more strained and expressive”. The song grows to a fever pitch as Johansing sings higher than she thought possible; the tension of the repeating chords Hinally resolving into a hopeful coda as multiple soloists weave around each other.

Amidst heavier themes, Johansing still leaves room for her love of irresistible pop melodies and lush production. The driving “Last Drop” and mid-tempo “Valley Green” are two of her catchiest songs to date. On the former Johansing sings the anthemic chorus, “As if it were the last drop, and nothing ever lasts forever / As if it were the last stop, too far out to come back ever”, longing for a love that she’ll never take for granted, while also admitting that she doesn’t always know how good she has it. “Valley Green” features shimmering layers of 12- string guitars, stacked horns and an impeccable solo by co-producer and multi- instrumentalist Tim Ramsey (Vetiver, Fruit Bats), hinting at a love for bands like NRBQ.

Having been eager to capture the initial spark of songwriting, Johansing booked time at Highland Park’s 64 Sound Studio the week that it reopened. Over the course of three days, she and her band gathered basic tracks for 10 songs, before returning home to Hinish the record with Ramsey. Setting forth to make an album that paid homage to the music that kept them company during the months spent alone together, the duo pulled inspiration from a wide net including Burt Bacharach, John Carroll Kirby & Haruomi Hosono. Ramsey’s newfound love of early digital synthesizers dovetailed effortlessly with Johansing’s fondness for classic 70’s horn and string arrangements, creating a sound that is distinctly modern yet warm and familiar.

Once again Johansing called upon some of the Hinest players of Northeast Los Angeles’ vibrant music community to lend a hand with the record. The 70s R&B-folk of “Watch It Like a Show” features an electric guitar solo from Hand Habits’ Meg Duffy, while album closer “Endless Sound” boasts backing vocals from electronic musician Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith and swooping Indian-inspired violins from Amir Yaghmai (HAIM, The Voidz). The record shines brightly thanks to an ace mix from veteran producer Rob Schnapf (Beck, Elliott Smith, Cat Power), woodwinds from Logan Hone (John Carroll Kirby, Eddie Chacon), and a featured rhythm section of drummer Josh Adams (Jenny Lewis, Bedouine) and bassist Todd Dahlhoff (Feist, Devendra Banhart). Recorded across multiple studios including LA’s famed Sunset Sound, the album remains steadfastly buoyed by the adept engineering of Tyler Karmen (MGMT, Alvvays).

Though born of turbulent times, Year Away is ultimately interested in moving forward. The album ends with “Endless Sound,” where Johansing laments seismic global changes, (“The water is hotter, the mighty thaw / The current’s reversing, the last are lost”) but vows to keep going (“No storm can take me down / Endless light, endless sound”). It’s Year Away’s resilience that shines through despite the darkness. It’s a sound all her own and Johansing’s most cohesive set of songs yet.

OVERVIEW: This is essential. We don't just refer to the album title: this new record by multi-instrumentalist and producer Thysenterprise is essential material for lovers of spiritual jazz with a hip-hop edge. As described in the liner notes: "The spirit of Pharoah Sanders, Archie Shepp, and Coltrane permeate the music here. At times, Thysenterprise and his guests meld the influence of the great jazz cannon with the rhythms of hip-hop."

'ESSENTIAL' moves with ease from spiritual sounds to hip-hop-infused head nods. The liner notes by writer John Morrison perfectly encapsulate the type of sonic trip you're in for: "While the improvisational heights that Thysenterprise and crew reach throughout the album owe a debt to hardbop and the avant-garde, there are beats and textures here akin to the work of Karriem Riggins or A Tribe Called Quest. The result is a truly contemporary sound that plays freely within the depths of human feeling."

'ESSENTIAL' is by far Thysenterprise's most personal album to date. From beginning to end, he pays a heartfelt tribute to his late father. The artist revisits and rearranges melodies from iconic jazz records that formed a profound connection between the two of them. Throughout the album, there are nods to songs that were essential for Reinier's musical upbringing. It shows that the saxophonist plays with heart and doesn't shy away from expressing grief and loss. Or as stated in the liner notes: "We play for pleasure, we play to understand ourselves and the world around us, we play to celebrate and remember our loved ones."

Renowned Dutch alto saxophonist Benjamin Herman joins Thysenterprise for intimate call-and-response on "Feedback of Silence." Next to that, Michael Moore graces "Happiness Is a Memory" with a heartfelt bass clarinet solo. Moore is part of the Han Bennink-founded ICP Orchestra. It's safe to say that Thysenterprise builds on that rich lineage of improvisation, playfulness, and distinct originality. On 'ESSENTIAL,' he takes that to new heights. The album comes beautifully packaged as a gatefold 2LP with vinyl-exclusive alternate takes on the D-side.

Waiting For The Rain was produced by Dave Eringa (Manic Street Preachers) and recorded at Rockfield studios in Monmouth and The Libertines Albion Rooms studios in Margate. Having just completed an Arena Tour of America with Louis Tomlinson, Andrew Cushin is on the road again with Louis across Europe in August/September. Wor Flags, released last month is the fifth track (following It’s Coming Round Again, 4.5%, You’ll Be Free and Dream For A Moment) to be taken from Waiting For The Rain. A new single Just Like You’d Want Me To is released August 30th. 23-year-old singer-songwriter Andrew Cushin is Newcastle’s fastest rising star. He has already recorded with Noel Gallagher and counts Paul Weller and Sam Fender among his biggest cheerleaders. Andrew grew up on a council estate in Heaton, Newcastle. His songs, delivered in a gorgeous baritone that sounds way beyond his years, are full of his experiences growing up, his lust for life, his grief at the loss of loved ones, his hopes and fears, his love and his stoicism. Andrew Cushin released his debut single It’s Gonna Get Better (2020) followed by Waiting For The Rain (2020); ’Where’s My Family Gone’ (2021) featuring production and guitar from Noel Gallagher and in 2022, through Peter Doherty’s Strap Originals label, You Don’t Belong EP and double A Side single You’ll Be Free / Dream For A Moment. Press quotes: “Cushin recalls acoustic Noel Gallagher circa Morning Glory.” – Sunday Times Culture // “The kitchen-sink realism of his songs, raised on the concrete turfs of council estates and smoke filled social clubs of Newcastle, is something the chart-topping Toms, Jacks and Georges of guitar pop are not only desperately lacking, but entirely unaware of.” - The Line of Best Fit // “Andrew Cushin is a newcomer being feted by actual icons.” – Clash // “Has built enough hometown momentum to suggest he could ‘do a Sam Fender’ very soon.” - Music Week // “It's clear to see the future is bright for Andrew whose backing from big names as well as a loyal following sets him up nicely to take the scene by storm.” Daily Mirror // “Transforming his native infused-sound, Andrew Cushin releases a banger.” Wonderland // “A set of personal yet relatable songs that connect immediately and directly.” Louder Than War

Waiting For The Rain was produced by Dave Eringa (Manic Street Preachers) and recorded at Rockfield studios in Monmouth and The Libertines Albion Rooms studios in Margate. Having just completed an Arena Tour of America with Louis Tomlinson, Andrew Cushin is on the road again with Louis across Europe in August/September. Wor Flags, released last month is the fifth track (following It’s Coming Round Again, 4.5%, You’ll Be Free and Dream For A Moment) to be taken from Waiting For The Rain. A new single Just Like You’d Want Me To is released August 30th. 23-year-old singer-songwriter Andrew Cushin is Newcastle’s fastest rising star. He has already recorded with Noel Gallagher and counts Paul Weller and Sam Fender among his biggest cheerleaders. Andrew grew up on a council estate in Heaton, Newcastle. His songs, delivered in a gorgeous baritone that sounds way beyond his years, are full of his experiences growing up, his lust for life, his grief at the loss of loved ones, his hopes and fears, his love and his stoicism. Andrew Cushin released his debut single It’s Gonna Get Better (2020) followed by Waiting For The Rain (2020); ’Where’s My Family Gone’ (2021) featuring production and guitar from Noel Gallagher and in 2022, through Peter Doherty’s Strap Originals label, You Don’t Belong EP and double A Side single You’ll Be Free / Dream For A Moment. Press quotes: “Cushin recalls acoustic Noel Gallagher circa Morning Glory.” – Sunday Times Culture // “The kitchen-sink realism of his songs, raised on the concrete turfs of council estates and smoke filled social clubs of Newcastle, is something the chart-topping Toms, Jacks and Georges of guitar pop are not only desperately lacking, but entirely unaware of.” - The Line of Best Fit // “Andrew Cushin is a newcomer being feted by actual icons.” – Clash // “Has built enough hometown momentum to suggest he could ‘do a Sam Fender’ very soon.” - Music Week // “It's clear to see the future is bright for Andrew whose backing from big names as well as a loyal following sets him up nicely to take the scene by storm.” Daily Mirror // “Transforming his native infused-sound, Andrew Cushin releases a banger.” Wonderland // “A set of personal yet relatable songs that connect immediately and directly.” Louder Than War

Waiting For The Rain was produced by Dave Eringa (Manic Street Preachers) and recorded at Rockfield studios in Monmouth and The Libertines Albion Rooms studios in Margate. Having just completed an Arena Tour of America with Louis Tomlinson, Andrew Cushin is on the road again with Louis across Europe in August/September. Wor Flags, released last month is the fifth track (following It’s Coming Round Again, 4.5%, You’ll Be Free and Dream For A Moment) to be taken from Waiting For The Rain. A new single Just Like You’d Want Me To is released August 30th. 23-year-old singer-songwriter Andrew Cushin is Newcastle’s fastest rising star. He has already recorded with Noel Gallagher and counts Paul Weller and Sam Fender among his biggest cheerleaders. Andrew grew up on a council estate in Heaton, Newcastle. His songs, delivered in a gorgeous baritone that sounds way beyond his years, are full of his experiences growing up, his lust for life, his grief at the loss of loved ones, his hopes and fears, his love and his stoicism. Andrew Cushin released his debut single It’s Gonna Get Better (2020) followed by Waiting For The Rain (2020); ’Where’s My Family Gone’ (2021) featuring production and guitar from Noel Gallagher and in 2022, through Peter Doherty’s Strap Originals label, You Don’t Belong EP and double A Side single You’ll Be Free / Dream For A Moment. Press quotes: “Cushin recalls acoustic Noel Gallagher circa Morning Glory.” – Sunday Times Culture // “The kitchen-sink realism of his songs, raised on the concrete turfs of council estates and smoke filled social clubs of Newcastle, is something the chart-topping Toms, Jacks and Georges of guitar pop are not only desperately lacking, but entirely unaware of.” - The Line of Best Fit // “Andrew Cushin is a newcomer being feted by actual icons.” – Clash // “Has built enough hometown momentum to suggest he could ‘do a Sam Fender’ very soon.” - Music Week // “It's clear to see the future is bright for Andrew whose backing from big names as well as a loyal following sets him up nicely to take the scene by storm.” Daily Mirror // “Transforming his native infused-sound, Andrew Cushin releases a banger.” Wonderland // “A set of personal yet relatable songs that connect immediately and directly.” Louder Than War

If the Corona pandemic and the accompanying concert bans have at least one good thing going for them, it's the extra time musicians have to write songs and live out their creativity. This circumstance was also the driving force for the SAMURAI PIZZA CATS, who come from the Electric Callboy environment. Frontman Sebastian Fischer was behind the microphone in their predecessor band Her Smile In Grief, whose line-up also included Daniel "Danskimo" Haniß, who is now celebrating success as guitarist, songwriter and producer of Electric Callboy. The contact between the two never broke off and so Daniel also produced Sebastian's later band Fall Of Gaia in recent years, whose former drummer and multi-instrumentalist Stefan Buchwald is also involved in this new project - family business from downtown Castrop Rauxel! So while Stefan contributes the music, Sebastian writes the lyrics and Daniel, as a creatively involved producer, ensures a well-rounded overall result. Okay, before we try your patience any further, let's talk about the elephant in the room: the band name. The SAMURAI PIZZA CATS have named themselves after a Japanese anime series from the early nineties. Why? Stupid question! Of course, because they are fearless warriors on their instruments, love to eat pizza and like cats! And maybe a little bit because they have soft spots for anime and silly band names - but only maybe. Rumour also has it that "Banzai! Smack! Meow!" is an onomatopoeic description of the band's sound.

Nonesuch releases Sorry I Haven’t Called, the new album by Vagabon, the moniker of Lætitia Tamko. Co-produced by Tamko and Rostam (Vampire Weekend, Haim, Clairo), it finds Tamko reinventing herself once again and features the most playful and adventurous music of her career, as evidenced by its lead track and opening song ‘Can I Talk My Shit?’. Vagabon has also announced an autumn tour that includes a headline run in the US, as well as European dates with Weyes Blood.



“I didn’t feel like being introspective,” says Tamko of her new album. “I just wanted to have fun.” Following her intimate 2017 debut Infinite Worlds, the New York artist favoured expansive and evocative electronic textures in her breakthrough 2019 self-titled follow-up. But her latest album feels like a wholly new era for Tamko, one that’s transformational and uncompromising. Across 12 vibrant tracks she wrote and produced primarily in Germany, she channels dance music and effervescent pop through her own confident sensibilities. These conversational songs are alive and unselfconscious, a document of an artist fully embracing her vision and reclaiming her joy.



The first words she sings on the album are, “Can I talk my shit? / I got way too high for this.” It’s a statement of purpose for the rest of the album that this is an unapologetic artist. “This whole record is how I talk to my friends and how to talk to my lovers,” says Tamko. “I think honesty and conversational songwriting can become poetry. There’s beauty in plainly speaking without metaphors and without flowery imagery.”



The story of Sorry I Haven’t Called started in grief after Tamko’s best friend died in 2021. This devastating and unexpected loss unmoored Tamko but also gave her a newfound clarity. “The things that I thought I cared about, I no longer cared about,” she says. “I had a realization that I need to make sure to feel everything that comes my way.” She decided to sell her things and move to a small lakeside village a few hours north of Hamburg in northern Germany to process everything. “There's no linear path to grief, and everyone handles it differently, but uprooting my life just felt like exactly what I had to do,” says Tamko. “I needed a place to think and go through my discomfort privately but to also explore the newness and urgency I was feeling in my life.” In the village, her phone didn’t work and there were no close grocery stores or restaurants, so she spent her time alone working on music.



Despite the palpable absence in her life, her new songs were her most disarming and ebullient yet. The first one she wrote was ‘Carpenter’, a mesmerizing track anchored by a tangible bass groove, where she sings, “I wasn’t ready to move on out / but I'm more ready now.” It’s a fully-realised track and feels like the culmination of her catalogue so far. “A lot of the music that I was making there had nothing to do with my grief at all,” says Tamko. “Once I gave myself permission to make a record that's full of life and energy, I realized that’s the point of this album. In the midst of going through all of these tough things, it became a record because of the vitality that these songs had.” For Tamko, there’s power in pursuing happiness.



While writing in Germany, Tamko nurtured her love for dance music and let it seep into her new songs. “The only things that were giving me access to a feeling were dance music and going to a rave in an extremely dark club where if I wanted to cry, I could do it and be around other people,” she says.



After a few months in Germany that included marathon writing sessions and a whirlwind romance, Tamko decided to stay with friends in Los Angeles and finish her record. She enlisted co-producer Rostam to help her unify her vision.



Sorry I Haven’t Called is a warm and resilient album about embracing the ecstatic moments wherever you can by knowing how you love and how you mourn. It’s an album born of both communal dancefloor revelations and the clarifying peace from solitude, an emotional rebirth as well as an artistic one. “This record feels like what I've been working towards,” says Tamko. “When I think of this album, I think of playfulness. It's completely euphoric. It's because things were dark that this record is so full of life and energy. It’s a reaction to what I was experiencing at the time, not a document of it.”

It’s been nearly eight years since the last Mondo Drag album came out. In that time, the Bay Area psych-prog band toured the US and Europe, performed at major festivals and—once again—reformed their rhythm section. But in the context of the band’s nearly two-decade existence, this period may have been the most fraught. Vocalist and keyboardist John Gamiño lost friends and family members. Meanwhile, humanity suffered the throes of a global pandemic. “It was a dark chapter,” he recalls. “I was going through a lot of stuff personally—there’s been a lot of death, loss of family members, and grief. Plus, the band was inactive. It felt like time was slipping away from me. I felt like I was wasting my opportunities. I felt like I wasn’t participating in my story as much as I could have.” This feeling of time slipping away is the prevailing theme on Mondo Drag’s new album, Through the Hourglass. “For me, Through the Hourglass really encompasses the quarantine/pandemic years,” Gamiño says. “But in a way that includes a couple of years before that for us, because the band was stagnant during that time. Living with that was really impactful on our daily lives. So, the album is reflective. It’s looking at time—past, present, future.” Luckily, Mondo Drag emerged from this dour period reborn. Freshly energized by bassist Conor Riley (formerly of San Diego psych squad Astra, currently of Birth), who joined in 2018, and drummer Jimmy Perez, who joined in 2022, Gamiño and guitarists Jake Sheley and Nolan Girard have triumphed over the seemingly inexorable pull of time’s passage. “Astra was the one contemporary band that we felt was on the same tip as us,” Gamiño says. “We saw the similarities and felt the same vibe. Conor moved to San Francisco in 2018 and heard we were looking for a bassist, so we got in touch. For us, it was like, ‘The synth player from Astra wants to play bass for us?’ We couldn’t think of anybody more perfect.” Perez, meanwhile, brings deep psych-prog knowledge and impeccable skill. “He’s an amazing drummer, and he allowed us to do what we’ve been trying to do,” Gamiño says. “Before he came along, it was like, ‘Where are the drummers who like psych and prog and can play dynamically?’ We ended up trying out metal drummers, but they couldn’t swing. Jimmy was the final piece of the puzzle.” The result is a dazzling and often plaintive rumination on the hours, days, and years—not to mention experiences—that comprise a lifetime. Two-part opener “Burning Daylight” smolders with melancholy, offering a whirl of multi-colored and hallucinatory imagery. “It’s about the California wildfires and a feeling of helplessness,” Gamiño explains. “There’s a juxtaposition between the dark lyricism and upbeat music which is meant to imply a sort of delusional state—and choosing our own delusion to overcome the crushing despair of reality.” Eleven-minute centerpiece “Passages” is a sprawling prog-rock adventure, festooned with lofty guitar melodies, sweeping organ flourishes and a delicately finger-picked outro. But the heaviest song, thematically speaking, might be the mournful and hypnotic “Death in Spring,” which borrows its title from the like-named Catalan novel. “In the novel, people are placed inside opened trees and their mouths filled with cement before they die to prevent their souls from escaping,” Gamiño explains. “The song is about three people I knew who lost their lives to gun violence, addiction, and mental health. It’s my way of cementing their souls in song form.” Mondo Drag fans might be surprised by this blend of hard reality with literary surrealism, but it’s a perfect example of how the last several years have impacted Mondo Drag—and Gamiño in particular. “On all of our previous albums, the lyrical content is more psychedelic and out there,” he acknowledges. “This is the most personal stuff I’ve ever done, so I’m definitely feeling vulnerable on this one.” The title Through the Hourglass comes from the opening of the long-running soap opera Days of Our Lives. It’s less inspired by a predilection for daytime TV than Gamiño’s connection with his late mother, who passed during the time since the last album. “I used to watch Days of Our Lives with her everyday growing up,” he explains. “The song is kind of a reinterpretation of the theme song, although it’s different enough that probably no one will catch it. Now that I’m getting older, I like to put these little Easter eggs in the songs for myself and for archival purposes—for memories.” Through the Hourglass was tracked at El Studio in San Francisco, with an additional ten days of recording at the band’s rehearsal space, which doubles as a hybrid analog-digital recording studio. The album was engineered and mixed by Phil Becker, drummer of space-punk mainstays Pins Of Light. “We’re still here,” Gamiño says. “We’ve been in the studio working on our craft and honing our skills. Now we’re re-emerging for the next stage of our life cycle.”

RIYL: PJ Harvey, Sonic Youth, Dead Can Dance, Black Sabbath, Depeche Mode. In Blood is the group’s 14th album and the follow-up to 2020’s critically acclaimed Dances/Curses (Album Of The Year – The Quietus, Top 10 International Albums – Irish Times). It was typical of a band so well-known for stellar live performances to release their most successful album at a time when they were unable to back it up on the road. As was the case for many, lockdown changed the band’s lives in unexpected ways. Some felt a form of cabin fever at not being able to continue to make music (diverting their energies elsewhere - founding Wrong Speed Records for starters) whereas others relished the peace and quiet, perhaps questioning whether they wanted to return to the life they had before. Gigs (so long the lifeblood of the band) were booked, postponed, and cancelled. Things began to unravel and perhaps for the first time since the band formed in 2003 it was hard to see how it could continue. A plan was hatched to attempt to re-energise and reassemble the band: they would begin work on a new album. They would approach this as though a Somerset version of The Desert Sessions – members old and new and guests would contribute as and when time and restrictions allowed. Lyrically, British folk and ghost mythology provided the starting position for the song themes ranging from mutated stories of grief and loss written in the 14th Century (Perle), spiritual reawakening by ancient apparitions (Avalon) to the growth of nature after devastation (Can’t Feel Around Us, Over Cedar Limb), a metaphor also for spirit and body renewal and rebirth after trauma. The results sound free of any genre shackles and it suits Hey Colossus. They have taken the expansive anything-goes approach that made Dances/Curses so successful and fine-tuned and shaped it into an 8-song single album that never treads water or fills time. The prominent vocals steer the listener through the music, defining it as opposed to punctuating it (or being buried by it). The album is a calling card for the band in their 20th anniversary year. As odd and challenging as long-term fans would expect or hope for, but somehow more accessible and to the point than ever before. It is the closest the group have ever come to a pop record, radiating positivity through the murk like a small ray of light in some very dark and very weird times. Music can never entirely negate these feelings but, like the natural world referenced in the lyrics and sleeve, it invisibly bonds people together, lifting us up if we choose to let it.

Today, Anjimile Chithambo, better known as Anjimile, announces his new album, The King, out September 8th, his first full-length since 2020’s breakthrough Giver Taker. To herald the announcement, he shares lead single, ‘The King’, accompanied by a visualiser by Daniela Yohannes, whose striking painting takes centre stage on the album cover.

Highlighting the artistic shift from Giver Taker to now, ‘The King’ opens with a lofty, melodic choir, an intro that belies the song’s motives. Suddenly, sinister arpeggios interrupt the reverie, and the voices grow darkly serious. Deeply steeped in the confusion, grief, and rage of being Black in America, ‘The King’ pushes back against the tired adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” hissing, “What don ’t kill you almost killed you// What don’t fill you//pains you// drains you.”

“If Giver Taker was an album of prayers, The King is an album of curses.” In his second album, Anjimile continues exploring what it means to be a Black trans person in America. The brutally honest reflection of 2020’s deadly summer is less reminiscent of the pink cloud of early sobriety and more rooted in the reality of seeing brutality with clear eyes. Drawing from influences ranging from religion, Phillip Glass, and lived experiences, the album is a grand step forward for Anjimile. Nearly every sound you hear on The King comes from two instruments: an acoustic guitar and Anjimile’s own voice. Other than a few beautiful contributions from Justine
Bowe, Brad Allen Williams, Sam Gendel, and James Krivchenia (Big Thief), the album is the result of a year in LA working intimately with Grammy and Juno winner Shawn Everett.

Today, Anjimile Chithambo, better known as Anjimile, announces his new album, The King, out September 8th, his first full-length since 2020’s breakthrough Giver Taker. To herald the announcement, he shares lead single, ‘The King’, accompanied by a visualiser by Daniela Yohannes, whose striking painting takes centre stage on the album cover.

Highlighting the artistic shift from Giver Taker to now, ‘The King’ opens with a lofty, melodic choir, an intro that belies the song’s motives. Suddenly, sinister arpeggios interrupt the reverie, and the voices grow darkly serious. Deeply steeped in the confusion, grief, and rage of being Black in America, ‘The King’ pushes back against the tired adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” hissing, “What don ’t kill you almost killed you// What don’t fill you//pains you// drains you.”

“If Giver Taker was an album of prayers, The King is an album of curses.” In his second album, Anjimile continues exploring what it means to be a Black trans person in America. The brutally honest reflection of 2020’s deadly summer is less reminiscent of the pink cloud of early sobriety and more rooted in the reality of seeing brutality with clear eyes. Drawing from influences ranging from religion, Phillip Glass, and lived experiences, the album is a grand step forward for Anjimile. Nearly every sound you hear on The King comes from two instruments: an acoustic guitar and Anjimile’s own voice. Other than a few beautiful contributions from Justine
Bowe, Brad Allen Williams, Sam Gendel, and James Krivchenia (Big Thief), the album is the result of a year in LA working intimately with Grammy and Juno winner Shawn Everett.

Indies Only LP is opaque green vinyl. Both LPs come with a download. The moment the needle drops on Bite, the new A Giant Dog record, one’s conception of what an A Giant Dog record sounds like bends like space and time around a starship running at lightspeed. The biggest point of departure is that Bite is a concept album, concerning characters who find themselves moving in and out of a virtual reality called Avalonia. A Giant Dog’s first album of original songs since 2017’s Toy, Bite finds the band Sabrina Ellis, Andrew Cashen, Danny Blanchard, Graham Low, and Andy Bauer at their peak as musicians, challenging themselves with more complex arrangements and subject matter that forced them out of their heads and into those of the characters who occupy this supposed paradise. “We had to find ourselves within, or project ourselves into, the principal characters. We developed them, got to know their minds, emotions, and motivations, and then expressed those in nine songs,” Ellis explains. Themes of addiction, gender fluidity, living ethically in a capitalist society, physical autonomy, avarice, grief, and consent bubble beneath the promised happiness of Avalonia. This is evident in songs like “Different Than,” where Ellis sings, “My body can’t explain the things my mind don’t comprehend” as if societal gender pressure is squeezing its protagonist out of their skin. The songs on Bite are full of bombast, at turns calling to mind the spacefaring operatic rock of Electric Light Orchestra and the high drama of an Ennio Morricone film score. The album’s narrative sweep is epic in scope, its characters facing impossible odds and certain doom, existing as comfortably with the sci-fi grandiosity of Thin Lizzy’s Jailbreak as it does with the high fantasy of Dio and Iron Maiden. Appropriately, A Giant Dog came to this narrative armed to the teeth with new ideas, unleashing synthesizers and string sections to create what Ellis describes as orchestral, symphonic, futuristic punk. To achieve this, they left their home turf of Austin, Texas, for La Cuve Studio, just outside of Angers, France. Living in the French countryside, A Giant Dog laid down their vision of the future against a decidedly pastoral backdrop. On walks from Angers to La Cuve, Ellis says that they “would see many things, and also nothing at all. Swans on the river. Romani people living in little trailers, with a side hut built for their dog. A juggler on a unicycle—not fucking with you.” “We thought we wouldn’t be allowed back in France after this trip, to be honest,” they continued. “Five loud, stomping, clapping, rowdy Americans who ran through the streets of Angers for three weeks in November 2022.” The experience capped two years of planning and writing, fleshing out the universe of Avalonia beyond the bounds of most concept albums. The resulting nine songs do not merely occupy this space: They’ve lived in it, and they want out.

With I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy, Fat Tony embodies the kind of quixotic figure he would rap about; a singular entity who’s motivated, confident, and hungry; a perpetual-motion-machine locked in a staring contest with his country. It’s the latest album in his catalog produced entirely by L.A-based producer Taydex since 2020’s Wake Up. Later that same year Fat Tony released Exotica, and ever since he’s demonstrated he is in his own lane as a professional rapper with the mind of a magician, as quick to conjure an image as pull it out from under you, deftly manoeuvring through so many details and references a listener feels as if they have witnessed the work of an illusionist. He paints these canvases inside of songs that rarely spill past three minutes; they’re pocket-sized diaries replete with acute observations, character studies, microdoses of storytelling, and single-minded ruminations on a topic that bud, blossom, and fade before too long. Fat Tony & Taydex’s I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy cements Tony’s status as someone whose albums are not so much lyrically-lyrical as they are picaresque.
As with any Fat Tony project, the bars are tight as ever, but are so fluid for the 34-year-old it’s almost easy to take for granted the details, warmth, and humanity inside his free-associative tales of day-one friends who’ve passed, edgelord grifters who want to spit game, and nights on ketamine. Taydex’s production sprints through disparate yet simpatico styles, dipping its toes into Pi’erre Bourne-esque bass (see lead single “Spectacular”), house (“Loosen Up”), and even hyperpop. Meditations on loss and grief are woven throughout, but Tony throws a few curveballs as well: Consider “Alexis,” which sweetly reflects on a long-term platonic friendship. Taydex finds a Teddy Riley-indebted New Jack Swing groove just deep enough for the feeling to land and underlines the song’s sincere candor. This is the appeal of Fat Tony writ-large: his boisterous voice and genial personality invite you to the party, then you stick around to hear what he’s saying, which is frequently more introspective and complex than one assumes.
Written and recorded in Taydex’s new studio in North Hollywood, Tony says, “We had much more freedom and flexibility in making this album and you can hear it. It felt like a family project.” If the album is comfortable and loose, it is also dense and substantial. The album’s final two tracks contextualize the immediacy of what came before it—the mezcal with ices drank, Paul Wall swangin’ through to drop knowledge, the Polaris Prize-winning rapper Cadence Weapon providing a vibe check. “Make a Baby” accounts for Tony who’s seen everything, and knows he’s met the one to be a father with, and yet chooses to take his time to get it done. Taydex’s beat recalls turn-of-the-century R&B and the millennial promise of an endless good time. Sombre closer “Jasper, TX” is Tony coming to grips with the story of James Byrd, Jr., a Black man from East Texas dragged to his death by three white supremacists in 1998. These songs are not only trademarks of Tony’s fastidious rapping—they are deeply personal examples of his approach to artistry and life itself, where every decision is made in the shadow of history.
It’s here the mission statement of I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy comes into focus—you get the sense he means it, he’s ready for it, he’ll fight for it. He’s waiting to take the world at its word.

I could smell the curves of the river beyond the dusk and I saw the last light supine and tranquil upon tide-flats like pieces of broken mirror, then beyond them lights began in the pale clear air, trembling a little like butterflies hovering a long way off. -The Sound and the Fury, William Faulkner

This is the third and final instalment of Jeremiah M. Carter’s album triptych, »Vessels«. Following »Rejoice« and »Speak You Also«, all three album’s where conceived within a 6 month period during ferociously exalting creative sessions.

The Emotional turmoil of the early pandemic is as present on »Vessels« as it is in the other two albums, yet the final instalment showcases as more distinctive sense of focus, where the earlier albums saw Jeremiah expel a state of uncertainty and trepidation into an intense, almost spiritual form of musical cleansing, Vessels still bears those same hallmarks, yet comes across with an air of refinement and finality.

Spanning six pieces, each work feels like an integral part of the albums overarching narrative, fervently nestled amid divinity and humility. By its final piece, which also clocks in as the longest in the entire triptych, we are treated to one of Jeremiah’s finest moments, and for a few seconds, it all comes together for one last swansong, forming a sonic distillation of elation and grief, desire and passion. – It’s all here.

MIZMOR, is a one-man heavy music exploration that began in 2012 as a
way of dealing with the mental and spiritual anguish mastermind A L N
feels as a person
More specifically, the content behind the project is that of the existential - primal
and innate musings about cause, purpose, self, and god. It is the search for light
and truth, or the fact that there is none. It comes from an embittered, burned,
confused, and broken heart. It is the fight for survival when reason and
foundation has turned to nothingness. It is the crashing down of towers of
falsehood and the freedom that comes through a certain kind of grief. Ultimately,
MIZMOR is the manifestation of my long-felt depression, and neither have an end
in sight.
In A.L.N.'s own words behind the new MIZMOR album "Prosaic":
"The idea behind "Prosaic" was to make an intentionally less conceptual, more
slice- of- life record. I wanted to make an album that was less precious and
obsessed-over, more honest and real; less grandiose and more human. I found it
an interesting challenge to find the line between 'you can do better' and 'you're
beating a dead horse.' I tried to make my process more efficient and even fun at
times. I simply wanted to share, but if that meant exacting all-out perfectionism, I
wasn't going to make a record. Right now I'm interested in making less selfindulgent music. The themes are the absurdity/futility/purpose/meaning of work,
mindfulness/ consciousness/ living in the present moment/ shedding illusions,
depression/ acceptance/ contentment. This is the first MIZMOR album without
any content relating to god/atheism. You also won't hear any shrieks."

Today, powerhouse mande jazz ensemble Balimaya Project announce
their second album When The Dust Settles to be released by New Soil in partnership with Jazz re:freshed on July 21, 2023
A dynamic maturation of the group's thrilling big band sound, When The Dust Settles is a personal and cathartic expression of grief, rage, love and joy.

Fusing West African rhythmic tradition with the energy of London's jazz continuum, the album celebrates the restorative power of Black male brotherhood among diaspora communities in London.

Led by composer/arranger and UK-based Djembe player Yahael Camara Onono, Balimaya Project have established themselves as one of the most exciting and forward-thinking ensembles in Britain.
Enlisting guest vocalists Afronaut Zu, Obongjayar and Fassara Sacko across ten groove- laden and punchily percussive tracks, each song on When The Dust Settles engages intentionally with the significance of folkloric rhythms to illuminate themes that include the death of Camara Onono's older brother, losing a child, becoming a father, migration, survival and a search for truth.

As Camara
Onono describes: "One thing that's really linking us is that concept of family and the bonds are getting stronger every time ... It was important to me to go deeper and address not just tradition and culture, but also address emotion."

Born from their shared love for heavy music and 20 years of experience in playing together, THE GORGE consists of four jazz musicians who use the project as a creative outlet besides their day jobs as session musicians and music educators. Triangulating the chaotic yet groovy energy and the guitar masterclass of Botch with the riffage of Mastodon and the nimble instrumental intricacy of Animals as Leaders or Intronaut, Mechanical Fiction is an immensely ear-pleasing collection of tasty riffs and complex compositions that are nonetheless free-flowing like a river smoothly carving its winding path through a rugged landscape. With their third full-length album, THE GORGE take you on a giant voyage of discovery from which an incredible amount of joy can be experienced. Besides being wizards at their instruments, the quartet from St. Louis also prove to be incredible composers who know when to shine and when to take a step back, which is a rare feat in progressive music these days. The final track «Wraith» offers a sublime moment in which the band's compositional skill and emotional lyrics come together to offer one last opportunity for respite and consideration. Among the giant synthesizers, slow syncopated riffing and dying screams we are all laid to rest with our faces towards the sunset. Having come to the end of a life's journey, THE GORGE ofer us the thing that we have all longed for: release from the bonds of our Mechanical Fiction. Ltd Orange Red Marble (Beneath The Crust Ed.) Vinyl!

Lucky For You is Bully's most close-to-the-bone album yet. It's an album that's searing and unmistakably marked by its creator's experiences, while still retaining the massive sound that Alicia Bognanno has become known for over the last decade. Her fourth album draws from personal pain and the universal struggle that is existing, learning, and moving on-and it's all soundtracked by Bognanno's rock-solid melodic sensibilities and a widescreen sound that's impossible to pin down when it comes to the textures explored. These ten songs are simply the most irresistible Bognanno's put to tape yet, making Lucky For You her greatest triumph to date in a career already packed with them. Work on Lucky For You began last year, when Bognanno brought some in-progress demos to producer J.T. Daly in his Nashville studio to see if they could strike creative kismet. "Authenticity is always on my mind, without even knowing it," she explains while discussing their recording process together. "It was great with J.T., because I could tell he was a genuine fan who wanted to emphasize what's actually good about my writing instead of changing it. I could tell how much he cared about the project, and it meant alot to me." The album came together over the course of seven months, the longest gestation process for a Bully record to date, but that time allowed inspiration to emerge in new ways. The result is a kaleidoscopic rock record spanning punk's grit, the crunchy bliss of shoegaze, explosive Britpop, and the type of classic anthems Bully has been known for. Lucky For You's thematic focus zooms in on grief and loss: The record is largely inspired by Bognanno's dog and best friend Mezzi passing away, at a time when her life already felt as if in metamorphosis. The oceanic first single "Days Move Slow" was written shortly after Mezzi's passing, reflecting the persistence of Bognanno's incisive wit in the face of adversity. "There was nothing I could do except sit down and write it, and it felt so good." And then there's the passionate opening track "All I Do," which kicks in the door with huge riffs atop her lyrical reflections on three years of sobriety. "Once I stopped drinking, I felt like I was still haunted by mistakes and things that had happened when I was drinking, and it's still taking me a long time to forget about that while existing in this house. How do I shed the skin from a path I've moved on from?" In that vein, Lucky For You is a document of perseverance in the face of the big and the small stuff. "I'm so overly emotional and sensitive, it's a blessing and a curse" she says with a laugh, but there's no downside to her expressions of vulnerability on this record; it's the latest bit of evidence that nothing can hold Bognanno back.

Lucky For You is Bully's most close-to-the-bone album yet. It's an album that's searing and unmistakably marked by its creator's experiences, while still retaining the massive sound that Alicia Bognanno has become known for over the last decade. Her fourth album draws from personal pain and the universal struggle that is existing, learning, and moving on-and it's all soundtracked by Bognanno's rock-solid melodic sensibilities and a widescreen sound that's impossible to pin down when it comes to the textures explored. These ten songs are simply the most irresistible Bognanno's put to tape yet, making Lucky For You her greatest triumph to date in a career already packed with them. Work on Lucky For You began last year, when Bognanno brought some in-progress demos to producer J.T. Daly in his Nashville studio to see if they could strike creative kismet. "Authenticity is always on my mind, without even knowing it," she explains while discussing their recording process together. "It was great with J.T., because I could tell he was a genuine fan who wanted to emphasize what's actually good about my writing instead of changing it. I could tell how much he cared about the project, and it meant alot to me." The album came together over the course of seven months, the longest gestation process for a Bully record to date, but that time allowed inspiration to emerge in new ways. The result is a kaleidoscopic rock record spanning punk's grit, the crunchy bliss of shoegaze, explosive Britpop, and the type of classic anthems Bully has been known for. Lucky For You's thematic focus zooms in on grief and loss: The record is largely inspired by Bognanno's dog and best friend Mezzi passing away, at a time when her life already felt as if in metamorphosis. The oceanic first single "Days Move Slow" was written shortly after Mezzi's passing, reflecting the persistence of Bognanno's incisive wit in the face of adversity. "There was nothing I could do except sit down and write it, and it felt so good." And then there's the passionate opening track "All I Do," which kicks in the door with huge riffs atop her lyrical reflections on three years of sobriety. "Once I stopped drinking, I felt like I was still haunted by mistakes and things that had happened when I was drinking, and it's still taking me a long time to forget about that while existing in this house. How do I shed the skin from a path I've moved on from?" In that vein, Lucky For You is a document of perseverance in the face of the big and the small stuff. "I'm so overly emotional and sensitive, it's a blessing and a curse" she says with a laugh, but there's no downside to her expressions of vulnerability on this record; it's the latest bit of evidence that nothing can hold Bognanno back.

Lucky For You is Bully's most close-to-the-bone album yet. It's an album that's searing and unmistakably marked by its creator's experiences, while still retaining the massive sound that Alicia Bognanno has become known for over the last decade. Her fourth album draws from personal pain and the universal struggle that is existing, learning, and moving on-and it's all soundtracked by Bognanno's rock-solid melodic sensibilities and a widescreen sound that's impossible to pin down when it comes to the textures explored. These ten songs are simply the most irresistible Bognanno's put to tape yet, making Lucky For You her greatest triumph to date in a career already packed with them. Work on Lucky For You began last year, when Bognanno brought some in-progress demos to producer J.T. Daly in his Nashville studio to see if they could strike creative kismet. "Authenticity is always on my mind, without even knowing it," she explains while discussing their recording process together. "It was great with J.T., because I could tell he was a genuine fan who wanted to emphasize what's actually good about my writing instead of changing it. I could tell how much he cared about the project, and it meant alot to me." The album came together over the course of seven months, the longest gestation process for a Bully record to date, but that time allowed inspiration to emerge in new ways. The result is a kaleidoscopic rock record spanning punk's grit, the crunchy bliss of shoegaze, explosive Britpop, and the type of classic anthems Bully has been known for. Lucky For You's thematic focus zooms in on grief and loss: The record is largely inspired by Bognanno's dog and best friend Mezzi passing away, at a time when her life already felt as if in metamorphosis. The oceanic first single "Days Move Slow" was written shortly after Mezzi's passing, reflecting the persistence of Bognanno's incisive wit in the face of adversity. "There was nothing I could do except sit down and write it, and it felt so good." And then there's the passionate opening track "All I Do," which kicks in the door with huge riffs atop her lyrical reflections on three years of sobriety. "Once I stopped drinking, I felt like I was still haunted by mistakes and things that had happened when I was drinking, and it's still taking me a long time to forget about that while existing in this house. How do I shed the skin from a path I've moved on from?" In that vein, Lucky For You is a document of perseverance in the face of the big and the small stuff. "I'm so overly emotional and sensitive, it's a blessing and a curse" she says with a laugh, but there's no downside to her expressions of vulnerability on this record; it's the latest bit of evidence that nothing can hold Bognanno back.

Hailed by American Songwriter as "one of America's most intriguing,
creative, and idiosyncratic voices," Eilen Jewell rises from the ashes on her captivating new album, Get Behind The Wheel, picking up the pieces of her shattered world and finding new purpose after watching her marriage, her band, and what felt like her entire career fall apart in a series of heartbreaking implosions Co- produced by multi- instrumental wizard Will Kimbrough (Todd Snider, Hayes Carll), the 11- song collection pushes the acclaimed singer and songwriter's
trademark blend of vintage roots- noir into more psychedelic territory, with spacious, cinematic arrangements complementing her revelatory explorations of grief, loss, resilience, and redemption. The band's performances are electrifying here, resulting in Jewell's boldest album yet, a powerful work of artistic alchemy that transforms heartache into genuine creative rebirth.

For polymath artist Wesley Joseph, writing a song is like shooting a film - he sees in terms of scenes and colors, lighting the proper mood, drawing the right emotional arc. Music and filmmaking are Joseph’s two great loves. Film came first—he started making DIY videos at age 12 to entertain himself and his friends growing up in a small town in the UK. “There wasn’t really much happening,” he remembers, “and from a young age it created this mindset that doing everything myself was the only way to do it.”

But when he moved to London to study as a filmmaker, he discovered something in the freedom and independence of city life that demanded to be captured in song, and found a crew of collaborators—including A.K. Paul, Dave Okumu, Joy Orbison, Leon Vynehall, Lexxx, Loyle Carner and his childhood friend Jorja Smith—to help him do it. The result was his breakthrough single ‘Ghostin’’ and the 2021 debut ULTRAMARINE - released on his own imprint EEVILTWINN - a deeply textured collection of avant-R&B and soulful future-pop that stretched from psychedelic ballads to hard hip-hop bars (often in the span of a single track) and crystallized the mood of a young cohort trying to find love and live their dreams while the world is falling apart. Whilst his collaboration with Loyle Carner on single ‘Blood On My Nikes’ lead to him featuring on the artist’s critically acclaimed - and #3 charting album - earlier this year.

Now the nascent auteur returns with his Secretly Canadian debut GLOW, eight more songs of love, loss, anxiety, and joy about coming of age at a time of unprecedented change. Showcasing his range across songwriting, performing, and production—not to mention his flawless transitions between singing and rapping, between character studies and raw emotional honesty—it’s a stunningly beautiful work that makes it clear Joseph’s on the path to becoming a world-changing talent.

GLOW opens with the title track’s warm analog synths and cascading vocals that channel the harmonious Northern soul Joseph’s dad raised him on, a shimmering bed of clouds for the project’s opening credits. But like any good director, he quickly deepens the mood, drawing together disparate influences and emotions to build a unique sonic world spilling over with synchronicities and juxtapositions. “MONSOON” conjures nocturnal hedonism at the same time as it contemplates grief.

As on previous projects, Joseph is providing his own visual accompaniments for GLOW, creative directing its artwork and adding to his growing filmography as a director—he’s repped by the renowned production company Stink—with its first video. “COLD SUMMER” finds Joseph singing from a supervillain’s perspective over woozy film-score strings, and the concept bleeds over into its video accompaniment, a cryptic post-post-Tarantino film shot in Kazakhstan.

“I've never really seen them separately,” Joseph says of music and film. “They kind of just constantly drift into each other. And when they come together, it's like it was meant to be in my head the whole time.
It’s usually hyperbole to call an artist as young and new as Joseph “visionary,” but it’s undeniable that he has a vision, one that transcends old ideas of genre and medium, one that seems to get bigger and richer every time he steps into a studio or behind a camera. GLOW is one of the deepest and most satisfyingly cinematic listening experiences of the year—and Wesley Joseph is just getting started.

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Last year's Big Time brought Angel Olsen to a deeper, truer sense of self than ever before. Borne from the twin stars of grief and love, the album delivered beautiful sense of certainty, the sure-footed sound of an artist fully, finally at home with herself. But within that wisdom comes the realization that there is no finish line, no destination or static end point to life while you're living it, and Forever Means collects songs from the Big Time sessions that hold this common theme. They are, in Olsen's words, "in search of something else." "I was somewhere traveling," says Olsen, "stopped for a few days and wandering the city, and I was thinking `what does `forever' really mean? What are the things I'm seeking in friendship or love, and how can `forever' be attainable if we're always changing?'" Sitting with the reality of that entropy, Olsen realized "maybe the secret to ongoing love is to embrace change as part of love itself, that forever must have something to do with playing, looking, constantly searching things out for yourself, never letting yourself think you're finished learning or exploring." `Forever'", says Olsen, "remains curious while trying also to be kind and honest." All this packs into the four precious songs that comprise Forever Means, songs from Olsen's roads traveled and the ones ahead. "Nothing's free / like breaking free" Olsen sings, comfortable with the costs of her clarity, her heart and voice fixed on the present, the future, the not-yet-known and the beautifully unknowable