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Our earliest exposures to music can often be the most formative
For Toronto- based songwriter and multi- instrumentalist Eliza Niemi, that
influence came from her Dad who taught her the basics of bass and guitar at
home. These childhood experiences of playing music together by ear fostered the
sense of playfulness that she's approached her craft with ever since. They also
instilled an ethic in her creative work that prioritizes making music with friends
and loved ones.Those honed guitar — and later piano, cello and vocal — skills
make Eliza an ideal collaborator: starting in Halifax's rich music scene with the
mid-2010s experimental pop groups New Love Underground and Mauno, and
later in her role supporting artists Le Ren, Quaker Parents and Evan J. Cartwright.
Through the rhythms of touring and the brilliant spark that's shared in musical
exchange, Eliza found and developed connections across Canada's DIY music
communities. These collaborative moments fuel her creative practice, whether
playing solo, in an ensemble or releasing others' music as the founder of her own
label, Vain Mina Records.Connection and collaboration lives in the intimacy of her
albums, starting with 2019's Vinegar, an understated set of songs for cello,
keyboard and voice that wander with a comforting grace. 2020's Glass furthered
Eliza's reputation for writing songs that are boundless and experimental without
ever being alienating. There's an open, inviting quality throughout the record,
apparent from the close-miked instruments, to her softly sung and affable lyrics
that unfold like a conversation with a good friend.Her latest album, Staying
Mellow Blows, furthers these ideas and aesthetics to a staggering degree,
retaining the candor, humor and emotional humility she's known for, while letting
the vast number of supporting musicians shape each song with their own
emotionally resonant performances. The result feels whimsical and inspired, and
is the sound of an artist flourishing
180g 12" Deluxe Lavender Vinyl

COLD GAWD ist der Name, unter dem der in Kalifornien lebende Multiinstrumentalist Matt Wainwright stürmische, verletzliche Shoegaze-Musik mit offenen Stimmungen und R&B-Melodien kreiert. Inspiriert von diesen Klängen, präsentieren COLD GAWD eine verfeinerte, modernisierte Version des Genres. Das insgesamt zweite Album der Band, "God Get Me The Fuck Out Of Here", nahm im Winter 2020 Gestalt an, während Wainwright lange Solo-Schichten in einem Coffee Shop in Chicago arbeitete. Angetrieben von dem Traum, in seine Heimatstadt Rancho Cucamonga zurückzukehren und alte Freunde aus früheren Hardcore-Bands wiederzutreffen, verkroch sich Wainwright mit seiner begehrten rosa Jazzmaster, einer Reihe von Effektpedalen und einem Laptop und schrieb das gesamte Album in einem Monat. Im März 2021 zog er zurück in den Westen ins Inland Empire, wo er bei Gabe Largaespada im Open Ocean Sessions zum Aufnehmen und Abmischen buchte. Obwohl er jedes Instrument selbst einspielte, haben die Ergebnisse das lebendige Gefühl einer geübten Live-Band (was COLD GAWD jetzt sind, da sie zu einer sechsköpfigen Band angewachsen sind). Kaskadenartige Gitarrenwände wirbeln, wallen und plätschern, umrahmt von versunkenen Rhythmen und Wainwrights entfernter, geschlagener Stimme, die in violetten Dunst gehüllt ist. Wainwright nennt die thematischen Gemeinsamkeiten zwischen Shoegaze und R&B als zentrale Muse, die beide obsessiv auf Liebe, Lust und Sehnsucht fixiert sind, in abwechselnd grandiosen und molligen Formen. Textlich schwankt das Album zwischen schräg und verzweifelt, sehnsüchtig und resigniert - mit Ausnahme von "Comfort Thug", einem grüblerischen, größtenteils improvisierten Spoken-Word-Stück, das durch den bemerkenswerten Mangel an schwarzen Musikern im Shoegaze inspiriert wurde. COLD GAWD ist hier, um das zu ändern. "God Get Me The Fuck Out Of Here" kanalisiert Unwohlsein und Melancholie in hauchdünne, energiegeladene Hymnen über Flucht, Veränderung und Introspektion. Das erdrückende Schlussstück "Passing Through The Opposite Of What It Approaches" wabert und schwebt wie drohende Gewitterwolken, unter denen Wainright singt (und sein Bandkollege Arturo Ramirez schreit), was einem Mission Statement so nahe kommt, wie es das Album bietet: "leave what you know / and get grown / everyday / remember / why you left".

COLD GAWD ist der Name, unter dem der in Kalifornien lebende Multiinstrumentalist Matt Wainwright stürmische, verletzliche Shoegaze-Musik mit offenen Stimmungen und R&B-Melodien kreiert. Inspiriert von diesen Klängen, präsentieren COLD GAWD eine verfeinerte, modernisierte Version des Genres. Das insgesamt zweite Album der Band, "God Get Me The Fuck Out Of Here", nahm im Winter 2020 Gestalt an, während Wainwright lange Solo-Schichten in einem Coffee Shop in Chicago arbeitete. Angetrieben von dem Traum, in seine Heimatstadt Rancho Cucamonga zurückzukehren und alte Freunde aus früheren Hardcore-Bands wiederzutreffen, verkroch sich Wainwright mit seiner begehrten rosa Jazzmaster, einer Reihe von Effektpedalen und einem Laptop und schrieb das gesamte Album in einem Monat. Im März 2021 zog er zurück in den Westen ins Inland Empire, wo er bei Gabe Largaespada im Open Ocean Sessions zum Aufnehmen und Abmischen buchte. Obwohl er jedes Instrument selbst einspielte, haben die Ergebnisse das lebendige Gefühl einer geübten Live-Band (was COLD GAWD jetzt sind, da sie zu einer sechsköpfigen Band angewachsen sind). Kaskadenartige Gitarrenwände wirbeln, wallen und plätschern, umrahmt von versunkenen Rhythmen und Wainwrights entfernter, geschlagener Stimme, die in violetten Dunst gehüllt ist. Wainwright nennt die thematischen Gemeinsamkeiten zwischen Shoegaze und R&B als zentrale Muse, die beide obsessiv auf Liebe, Lust und Sehnsucht fixiert sind, in abwechselnd grandiosen und molligen Formen. Textlich schwankt das Album zwischen schräg und verzweifelt, sehnsüchtig und resigniert - mit Ausnahme von "Comfort Thug", einem grüblerischen, größtenteils improvisierten Spoken-Word-Stück, das durch den bemerkenswerten Mangel an schwarzen Musikern im Shoegaze inspiriert wurde. COLD GAWD ist hier, um das zu ändern. "God Get Me The Fuck Out Of Here" kanalisiert Unwohlsein und Melancholie in hauchdünne, energiegeladene Hymnen über Flucht, Veränderung und Introspektion. Das erdrückende Schlussstück "Passing Through The Opposite Of What It Approaches" wabert und schwebt wie drohende Gewitterwolken, unter denen Wainright singt (und sein Bandkollege Arturo Ramirez schreit), was einem Mission Statement so nahe kommt, wie es das Album bietet: "leave what you know / and get grown / everyday / remember / why you left".

Gather your loved ones, Together is here. Duster's fourth album is a 13-song exploration of comfortable, interplanetary goth. A sonic vaseline of submerged guitars, solder-burned synths, and over-driven rhythm tracks. "I know people say, `Oh Duster music so sad, we've even said it ourselves before," Clay Parton said. "But it's a lot more like absurdism than nihilism."

Gather your loved ones, Together is here. Duster's fourth album is a 13-song exploration of comfortable, interplanetary goth. A sonic vaseline of submerged guitars, solder-burned synths, and over-driven rhythm tracks. "I know people say, `Oh Duster music so sad, we've even said it ourselves before," Clay Parton said. "But it's a lot more like absurdism than nihilism."

Gather your loved ones, Together is here. Duster's fourth album is a 13-song exploration of comfortable, interplanetary goth. A sonic vaseline of submerged guitars, solder-burned synths, and over-driven rhythm tracks. "I know people say, `Oh Duster music so sad, we've even said it ourselves before," Clay Parton said. "But it's a lot more like absurdism than nihilism."

Purple Vinyl

Concentric Records present this special edition EP by the Berlin-based duo YHDESSA - composed of Dutch-Italian composer and poly- instrumentalist Grand River and Sardinian electronic music experimentalist Enrica Falqui.

Entitled Along The Simple Line, the 5-track EP is a unique sonic journey that merges in pure form the distinct worlds of the two composers, exposing a warm and delicate essence. Perfectly punctuated, and in a pace of its own, the album gently and precisely unfolds through touching musical spaces, dramatic textures, entrancing rhythms and unexpected vocal lines, revealing a wonderful depth. The result is so perfectly uniting as if woven by the same two hands.

Yhdessa is a collaborative project made up of Grand River and Enrica Falqui which was conceptualised in 2017 while the duo shared a music studio and were living as a couple in Berlin. Their first piece, released in 2018 on the label One Instrument Records, was named after the Vermona E-Piano and is composed entirely using the analogue synthesizer that was built in 1978. Following this came their lingering soundscape Waldorf Micro Q featured on the record “One Instrument Volume 01” as well as an impelling remix of Dunes by Jiska Huizing and Rudi Valdersnes.

Aimée Portioli is a Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer who records and performs as Grand River. The name Grand River evokes nature, scale, and movement, all key forces in Portioli’s work. Her first release as Grand River was the resolute 2017 Crescente EP, which includes Flies, a composition named by XLR8R as one of the best tracks of that year. She followed this with her melodious debut album Pineapple (Spazio Disponibile, 2018), which garnered praise from The Quietus, amongst others. The moving and dynamic subsequent album, Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes (Editions Mego, 2020) was lauded by Resident Advisor and The Verge, and was elected among the best albums of 2020 by Inverted Audio. Separately, Grand River’s work has appeared on compilations by Ghostly International, Tresor, Longform Editions and has composed an official remix for Tangerine Dream.

Enrica Falqui is a Sardinian music producer and DJ currently based in Berlin. With artistic versatility as one of her defining traits: she comfortably traverses between the dimensions of electronic music. For over a decade she has dedicated herself to the study of sound and the relentless excavation of lesser-known music, which has earned her bookings all over the world and commissions for her productions from some of the most respected labels including Marignal Returns which released Plexus, a mini-album of cool, divergent compositions. Enrica is also part of the coveted duo, ERIS, whose debut and sophomore EPs, Moments and Champions League, found their home on the illustrious Cabaret Recordings. The releases entwine the forceful with the ethereal and create an original, future-facing and club-orientated sound. Moloko, a drum-focussed track laced with weaving synths, was considered by Resident Advisor as one of the best tracks of 2019.

Aimée and Enrica’s musical union through Yhdessa, is one of colour and warmth. It expresses an experimental electro-ambient side of the two composers, to form a style that is meditative, other-worldly and at times introspective. Although, the two are now, no longer romantically engaged, they maintain a passionate friendship to match this profound musical partnership.

Temples is a tempting invitation into another world, full of light and movement. From the second the synth comes in this track has got us deep in its pocket. Shotter manages something that is hard to achieve - he has us floating completely, yet steadily carried by tip-toeing metallic rhythm elements and the relentless swells of bright synths. The game changer in the second half is a new, gritty bass quality, which couldn't roll in any more fiercely. At its fullest the track has us in an uncompromising trance, a relentless movement that we don't ever want to escape from. Breaking back down to pleasantly gentle hi-hat reverb-tails and inducing synth patterns Temples lets us down easy, with the unspoken promise to return.

Ueno claims the room to itself completely and immediately. The rise and fall of melodic synth lines lead us through a labyrinth at first, leaving plenty of space for imagination. Before we notice playful call-and-response rhythms are teasing our ears, until the track surrenders itself to an ever-growing wave of synth patterns and their behind-the-beat-delay. It climaxes into a haunting silence with tenuous high-pitched sounds and a clear outer space feel. Finally, all elements lock into a comforting groove, driving us forward, not too fast, not too slow - exactly right.

The track starts off with a blissfully nostalgic vintage-feel - slightly muffled, like the humbling quality you get from an old Technics playing your favourite LP. But don't be fooled, Cube March is bold. And unexpected. Stomping rhythms take over quickly and full-blown gritty synth-stabs cut the air effortlessly, like blades. An unapologetic and careless pumping bass line makes us want to move with every cell in our body. Shotter demonstrates his fearlessness in experimenting with heavy contrasts and elements from different genres here. A break with tastefully placed repetitive rhythm elements is complemented by the constant ebb and flow of melody lines. Both in volume and presence they fluctuate, one handing over the spotlight to the other seamlessly, keeping us hooked until the very end.

This remix lures you away from reality in a matter of seconds, with Definition's signature heavy hitting bass dominating. He expertly weaves shimmery fills into buoyant synth lines and brings us a skilful mix of dark minimal techno, breaks and infectious monster synth lines. Every so often, he adds a new layer, increasing the depth of the track, before letting it all crumble in a breakdown where time stops and tension grows, as we impatiently await the next rise to carry us away. The lengthy build-ups give this remix the energy to fill any room, easily. It is subtle, yet propulsive, too - a lane that Definition seems to manage regularly.

Black White Splatter Vinyl

When two musicians intensively work together for a period of time, at some point the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. If Paul Boex and Dave Miller hadn't already reached that status under their Abstract Division moniker, they certainly have now, with the release of Midnight Ensemble, their first full length album.

Those who have followed the duo since their early days of playing dj-sets together, know that it's hard to define their style anywhere beyond techno or even electronic music, as it is ever evolving and always dependent on the time of the day or night. When listening to this album, the resemblance between their unpredictable selection behind the decks and the eclectic range of subgenres on this album is more obvious than ever before. Midnight Ensemble could be interpreted as an ode to nightlife; a reminiscence of all that happens between dusk and dawn, captured and compressed into about one hour of music. An hour in which they so delicately time their changing of styles and tempos, always reading the room and always being one step ahead of the crowd.

This album is a reflection of that skill, starting its journey with soothing, moodsetting ambient, followed by timeless pieces of Detroit and dubtechno. A daring electro cut providing a refreshing break from the four to the floor tradition, only to be followed by the stripped down sound the duo is so comfortable with.

The final minutes consist of experimental breaks, one last banger to pull out the last bits of energy that is left and a beautiful outro, which concludes the allnighter vibe. There are no open endings, it doesn't make you want to stay in the dark forever. Rather it makes you want to close your eyes one last time before walking outside to see the sun come up again before going home, overwhelmed and satisfied.

Glenn Fallows and Mark Treffel released their first album, ‘The Globeflower Master Vol. 1’, on Mr Bongo in September 2021. With its lush, warm and timeless productions paying homage to classic 60s and 70s soundtrack composers, it was very well received and struck a chord with the scene’s connoisseurs. Louder Than War emphatically stated, "It’s impossible not to like The Globeflower Masters Vol. 1.”, with Gigwise echoing that praise “slickly compelling retro vibes”.

The Globeflower Master Vol. 2 is the slightly edgier and more grown-up sequel to Mark and Glenn's 2021 debut album. For this excursion, the Brighton-based duo wanted to lean a little further into their European film soundtrack influences, with particular inspiration mined from the works of Stefano Torossi, David Shire, and Roger Webb. This expansion of their sound builds upon the rich tapestry of cinematic funk à la David Axelrod, Serge Gainsbourg and Morricone that fashioned Vol. 1. Here the arrangements, melodies, and harmonies have been refined; only what is needed is left. Pulled into its vortex for the ride. This record doesn’t pull any punches.

The recordings are drenched in visual imagery; they stimulate the senses and invite the imagination to roam. Ethereal, hazy memories of lost summers are triggered; the beauty of listening to music when driving along a deserted road in the Italian countryside lined with cypress trees heading towards the sun, and beyond. As the musical journey progresses, we even take a voyage to another planet. Whether these memories are real or constructed recollections of scenes from film and television, the tracks evoke a feeling of nostalgia and comfort. Like all the best music, 'The Globeflower Masters Vol. 2' takes us out of ourselves even if it's only temporarily.

To consolidate the shape of the sound, drummers Timmy Rickard and Ollie Boorman (who also featured on Vol. 1) and John Maiden (Tricky collaborator) sprinkled their magic and forged their stamps onto the recordings. Collaborating with other talented musicians contributed to the picture Mark and Glenn wanted to paint. The ‘Globeflower Master Vol. 2’ is a fitting tribute to the music they love and care deeply about and a glorious addition to their musical world.

Gylden on the album: "Tuned to the bells, buoys, and ocean sounds surrounding a small island off the coast of Maine where I spend most of my time. Contra alto clarinet, Elektron Digitone, and cassette tape were used to convey the feeling of loneliness and comfort it provides me. »Island Friend« is dedicated to my father who passed away at this time last year."

Black Truffle is pleased to announce a major archival discovery from the wildest outer fringes of the FMP universe, the Bergisch-Brandenburgisches Quartett’s Live ’82. The Bergisch-Brandenburgisches Quartett (BBQ) was formed in 1980 in Rostock, East Germany, when three of the most radical and riotous members of the West German free music scene—reedist/accordionist Rüdiger Carl, percussionist Sven-Åke Johansson and Hans Reichel on violin and his modified ‘strange guitars’ — first played as a quartet with East German saxophonist Ernst-Ludwig Petrowsky. A rare example of a working band with members from both sides of the wall, during its lifetime the BBQ left only one recorded document, a studio LP on Amiga, the pop and jazz sublabel of the GDR state-run Deutsche Schallplatten Berlin. Neither pure fire music nor orthodox free improvisation, the four members of the BBQ shared an all-embracing aesthetic where quotes and jokes sat comfortably alongside radical extended techniques and sonic experiments. Beautifully recorded at the 1982 Moers festival, the music presented here is a kaleidoscopic demonstration of what Johansson has called the BBQ’s ‘free postmodernism’. Beginning with a fractured landscape of clarinet flourishes from Petrowsky, Johansson’s spacious drums accents, banjo-esque plucks from Reichel’s handmade guitar and the groans and squawks of Carl on cuica, the music lurches between flowing melodicism and stunted locked grooves, settling after a few minutes into a lyrical clarinet and bass clarinet duet accompanied by shimmering guitar chords and some inexplicable percussive rotations. When Petrowksy starts to unfurl long, flowing flute lines accompanied by hand percussion, the music suddenly recalls Don Cherry’s global fusions, but this turn to the folkish quickly takes on a more European character when Carl and Johansson pick up accordions for the first of several comical but oddly moving duets. The more frantic second half of the set takes in a raucous digression into honking R&B, an Ayler-meets-Schlager romp with almost rockish chordal accompaniment from Reichel and an outrageous free jazz blowout with Carl on accordion, not to mention episodes of Johansson’s signature improvised Sprachgesang and antics with his expanded percussion set up, including items such as shoe stretchers and the Berlin yellow pages, which more than once cause the audience to burst into laughter. Arriving in a beautifully designed sleeve with copious archival photographs and flyers from Johansson’s collection and extensive new liner notes from Francis Plagne, Live ’82 is a major historical document that remains both musically challenging and immensely entertaining forty years on.

Vessels promise an escape from responsibilities towards the landscape, they facilitate our avoidance of conscientiously feeling our attachment to the mainland. The visual nothingness of deep water and clean horizons fools the brain and delivers a treacherous feeling of independence.

We ignore the truths expressed by landscapes, so we mould them into urban projects for our strange desires. We clean up the irrationalities by which nature constructs itself. Then we look up to the skies, where the abstractions we have to draw in our minds should reside and inspire us.

We peer into the various shades of blue above the waters, the emptiness guarantees possibilities of our abstractions becoming realities. The apathetic stare into neat, straight horizons transforms our ancestral landscape into dirt and danger, when looking back to it.

To be on a ship under quarantine, is an upside down experience, for the promised escape has turned into a forced paralysis. The Lima flag (? - ? ?, in morse code), presented on the outer sleeve of this record, indirectly demands of all passengers to stay aboard and contemplate their escape from the land they now desire to return to.

These four piano pieces could be considered as a classical sonata (allegroadagio-scherzo-rondo). In a recital they are accompanied by four video pieces by artist Karl Van Welden. We picked the videos out of his extensive archive, choosing images intuitively while listening to the piano music. The theme of ships relating to quarantine thus came unannounced but of course, we were in the middle of the pandemic at the time.

Solastalgia was already waiting as a title for the new album before march 2020. I first came across the word in Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane (2019). He defines the word as "The unhappiness of people whose landscapes are being transformed about them by forces beyond their control". These forces and this unhappiness are, I believe, what constitutes the modern human. Solastalgia, about the music We haven't found them yet, the words to talk to each other about the worrying signs of climate change. Feeling worried when walking on autumn leaves in the beginning of August should be completely normal. But how do we communicate about it? We don't want to be just the next hysterical doomer.

With this music I try to focus on the climate pain itself, gently inviting the listener to investigate their latent feelings of unease and growing concerns about the environment. As in real life, we circumvent the real issues because they are just too big, there are no words, no expressions yet.

This album tries, in four different attempts, to carve out a path towards communicating about a deeper pain that eventually will connect us all. My general method is to start with a comforting melody, full of fake nostalgia, which, after changing gear to autodestruct mode, morphs into a painful question mark.

The first part sets off with an idyllic melody, accompanied by repeated notes, as a far, muted echo of an alarm. The melody starts to explain itself painfully into a dissonant whirlwind in the high register, sounding not unlike Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit bravura. In the second piece a warm Beatles like melody (And I love her) gets confronted with the weird hippie mantra of a later Lennon song War is over, if you want it. Sentences get reduced to syllables and result in lonely notes that crash and shiver under the burden of too much meaning. Like Shostakovich's latest work, the Sonata for viola and piano.

The descending melody of Bach's Erbarme dich, Mein Gott is echoed in the upper and lower voicings of the third piece, juxtaposed to a typical, threatening Ennio Morricone Western dotted rhythm accompaniment. This rhythm eventually evolves into citing the 1972 Captain Beefheart early ecological warning song Blabber and Smoke (there's a big pane/pain in your window, it's gonna hang you all,... dangle you all). Towards the middle of the piece, the music explodes and the three layers get dispersed all over the keyboard in a virtuosic maelstrom towards another painful question mark. The bitter answer is going back to business with a barely noticeable citation of the first notes of the RZA's Liquid Swords album.

The final piece is some kind of mantra, the same 7/4 pulse all throughout the piece. The dampers of all A's and B's on the keyboard are released by the middle pedal, thus sustaining an ever present resonance. Melodic cells alternate in shifting quantifications with small, bell like percussive cluster playing. While composing this piece an image crept up: walking out of the church on Sunday morning, tolling bells enthusiastically moderating the churchgoers' small talk in the local dialect. Apparently I have tried to evoke this kind of conversation, but injecting it with fictitious alarming conversation topics, the contemporary.

Frederik Croene (August '22)

Ryuichi Sakamoto, Daniel Lanois, Loscil, K Leimer, Deaf Center, Tangerine Dream, Arvo Pärt Wake is a distillation and reflection of the work of three Portland musicians thrown, like the rest of the world, into forced isolation by the continually-mutating curse of a natural world in disequilibrium. The product of involuntarily inward-looking emotional landscapes, Wake emerged sounding surprisingly expansive and confident. The trio uses a variety of instruments –including harp, fretless bass, piano, and a variety of synthesizers– to conjure sparkling panoramas of the imagination that are deep-pooled and impressionistic, bracing yet comforting. Mike Grabarak and Joshua Ward have performed together for years as a duo under the moniker of Location Services, while Derek Hunter Wilson has primarily worked as a solo composer in the classical realm. For the Points Of No Return compilation, Beacon Sound's 50th release and a benefit for the Beirut Musicians Fund, they recorded a collaborative piece entitled "Interdependence In Solitude" that was so promising the label offered to release an album if they continued down the path they had started upon. The resulting eight songs are simply mesmerizing. Made during a period of change and upheaval in the world and society where many people were disconnected from others, the album is the product of a collage-like dialogue built on trust and patience. While the musicians couldn’t physically be together for much of this time, they began sending musical ideas to one another in a conversational back-and-forth that acted as an anchor of stability – something they found they could turn to and depend on when things felt uncertain elsewhere. This comfort zone led to some transcendent moments of experimentation. “Delicate Need”, for example, features recordings of exaggerated pizzicato that were sampled and then run back through processing effects, which were then subsequently performed live over the original track. As things became less risky on the Covid front, they would occasionally meet for backyard rehearsals. Indeed, a recording of one of these rehearsals became the basis for the opening track “Photo Aware”. Wake will be available later this summer as a limited edition LP, with design work by Berlin-based Studio Bernhardt. The cover painting was created by Portland artist Nate Ethington. Highlights: – Derek was invited by the artist Gregory Euclide (Bon Iver, Erased Tapes) to participate in his label project, Thesis, along with artists such as Benoit Pioulard, Loscil, and Julianna Barwick. – Derek‘s first and second albums as a solo artist were released by Beacon Sound (Travelogue, 2017; Steel, Wood, & Air, 2019). – Location Services likewise released their 2019 album Reincorporate on the label. – The artists plan to tour together in 2023. Cascadia release shows TBA. Bios: Location Services is the Portland-based project of multi-instrumentalist Mike Grabarek (Magic Fades) and harpist Joshua Ward. They’ve released music on Beacon Sound and Beer On The Rug. They perform both written and improvised music. Derek Hunter Wilson is a composer and multi-instrumentalist based in Portland. He has released two solo albums on Beacon Sound and has also collaborated with visual artist Gregory Euclide for his Thesis Project label, resulting in a split 10" with Spanish musician Rauelsson. He has additionally collaborated with poets Zachary Schomburg and Brandi Katherine Herrera for several sound and performance pieces. He has performed live on the West Coast and in Berlin, sharing the stage with artists such as Colleen, Amulets, and Liima.

Under The Sun is the follow-up to the astonishing Roots and contains yet more absolutely essential Nucleus material. Originally released on Vertigo in 1974, Under The Sun was never re-pressed and of course those original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has stayed relevant. To steal a line from a recent review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

Under The Sun opens with the crisp, medium tempo “In Procession”. It’s a typically inventive Carr track with layers of dramatic, riff-led themes and repeating brass blasts. Bryan Spring’s “The Addison Trip” is a moody funk piece, with Kieran White guesting on wordless vocals. Roger Sutton contributes some fine bass guitar on this track, particularly the great solo at around the two minute mark. The excellently-named cool, jazzy ballad “Pastoral Graffiti” paints bucolic pictures with its mellow sonics, plaintive horns and Bob Bertles’ flute.

Sutton’s superb, bass-driven “New Life” brings a different dynamic. Horns, guitar and electric piano swirl over the head-nod bass motif and a killer Ken Shaw guitar solo. A false fade out halfway through brings in a new bass riff that’s picked up by the whole ensemble as Carr wah-wah noodles over the top. It’s full-on. The gorgeous, laidback “A Taste of Sarsaparilla” is exactly that - closing out the first side with a cute blast of what is to come over on the killer flip.

The whole of Under The Sun’s second side is a suite of three “Themes” written by Ian Carr. The uptempo first theme “Sarsaparilla” is comfortably one of Nucleus’ best. What would’ve been a cluttered mess in the hands of most is instead an effortless lesson in clarity and zing. Between Geoff Castle’s electric piano solo, the relentless funky drumming and more wild wah-wah trumpet from Carr, Nucleus show you how it’s done.

The languid groove of second theme “Feast Alfresco” is much more typical of “classic” Nucleus and sounds like something that might’ve been on Roots. A Bertles baritone solo and a guitar solo from Shaw weave around the core, serpentine brass theme.

The darker “Rites of Man”, the third and final theme, is a slow build to a solid bass and electric piano riff, shored up by some tricky brass. Carr takes the theme even further and there’s still plenty of room for soloing from all corners of the Nucleus. As usual, the dynamic Sutton/Spring, bass/drums duo is holding down the rhythm for the rest to jam around.

This Be With edition of Under The Sun has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The bleak, rain-dappled cover matches the melancholic vibe of the record and has been restored as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Tape



Over the course of two nights, a few weeks before the pandemic arrived in Portugal, André Gonçalves (ADDAC System) and Casper Clausen (Efterklang) recorded music from another realm, dreamy and scary at the same time, sounds complete but it seems to be falling apart at any moment. It is like an alien language or a way to process sound that sounds foreign because it is different from everything else, formally, and aesthetically. This is “Aether”, 37 minutes of constant take-off. A departure from what both musicians have done in the past.

That’s the beauty of these collaborations. You don’t know exactly the point of departure and where it leads. “Aether” masters that feeling throughout seven parts. The synthesized sounds hang in the air like clouds slowly moving, transforming into something else. Sometimes they touch each other and form something else. Or they just hang in there, waiting, just waiting. And then Casper Clausen’s voice shows up and offers a “Twin Peaks” feeling to everything, transforming that sound mass into ethereal melodies that become too overwhelming.

We think about all those Popol Vuh soundtracks from the Werner Herzog films, the fog that never goes away. The constant ecstasy of creating something magical or achieving the impossible. Or even Vangelis and his ability to elevate simple sounds into something beautiful and glorious. Both share this element of the unexpected, you’ll never know what you’ll listen to or feel during the process of active listening. It is a bizarre but comforting experience, a synthetic dream you want to be part of. Music to be touched and felt.

Often duplicated, never imitated: the power of Lauer! Albeit being no stranger himself to musical influences from the outside, the producer from Frankfurt managed to carve out a sound that is very much his own. Indie-dance, Italo, power pop and house music in its traditional sense get mixed up in a blender of happiness.
Lauer’s latest achievement for Running Back and welcome return is a mini-LP called Cyclone Days. Aptly titled and ably executed, it’s everything you would expect or want from him. A world of merry music, where melody is king.

On top of that , you get value for your money: Vocal blockbusters like the upbeat Somebody (instrumental included) and the more restrained Friends (both with frequent collaborator Dena), sit comfortably between instrumental hits. Resonator and Neway take the role of the proverbial keys to happiness, while the title track or Exterminate balance it out with joyful melancholy.
Just imagine Righeira signing to Factory Records or Durutti Column on holidays in Rimini and you are halfway there. The days might be like a cyclone, but as long as there are records like this, the shelter isn’t blown.

LP on classic black vinyl. The long-awaited new album from the best pop band in Scotland... The Orchids were making sophisticated pop music right back in the early 1990s when Sarah Records first started. Their songs were as emotionally pure as anything else on that label, but they were always a step ahead of their peers in terms of song arrangements and musical ambition. With a casual, unpretentious air they made writing perfect pop songs seem easy, almost accidental, and several great releases followed. The Orchids gained a passionate following: people knew a good thing when they heard it and they hugged it close. But maybe now it’s time for the rest of the world to be let in on the secret. The songs themselves are a beautiful mix of strength and gentleness. They wrap you in a powerful embrace, making you feel comfortable and secure – and then whisper their insecurities and anxieties into your ear. They say: ‘it’s OK to admit weakness. It’s OK to be fragile. That’s where true strength comes from’. From Glasgow, and proudly Scottish, the band shares a musical lineage with other great groups from that city, from Aztec Camera to Orange Juice, Lloyd Cole to Teenage Fanclub - bands that specialise in song-writing that can tell big stories through small personal fragments, that can make the ordinary extraordinary. Ian Carmichael has helped the band create a perfectly produced masterpiece. He subtly accentuates the drama of the songs, with a sophisticated choreography and gloss that never overwhelms the tenderness of the music. In ‘This Boy Is A Mess’ (the first single from the album), the lyric confesses frailty while the arrangement gets stronger and stronger. It is bittersweet and exhilarating at the same time. ‘I Want You, I Need You’ has harmonies as big as a house – but the yearning message remains intimate and close. ‘I Don’t Mean To Stare’ is an elegant version of the song that first appeared on Skep Wax compilation Under The Bridge. Album opener ‘Didn’t We Love You’ daringly opens up empty spaces where the reverb of the drums is the only thing you can hear... and then floods your ears with a harmonised chorus, sweet guitar melodies and sweeping effects. Even then, the lyrical lament, expressing the desire to live in a better place - a place unspoilt by the greedy phonies who’ve taken over – comes across as clearly as if Hackett were leaning over for a friendly chat in the snug bar of The Orchids’ favourite Glasgow pub. Dreaming Kind will be released as a CD, digital download and vinyl LP.

In many ways Kumoyo Island represents the culmination of a journey for Kikagaku Moyo. While their decade-long career can be summarized as a series of kaleidoscopic explorations through lands and dimensions far and near, there's a strong intention in each of their works to take the listener to a particular place, however real or abstract they may be. In that sense, the title and cover art for the band's fifth and final album draws you into a magical mass of land surrounded by water-but the couch suggests that Kumoyo Island may not be a fleeting stop, but rather a place of respite, where one could pause and take it all in. Reconvening at Tsubame Studios in Asakusabashi, Tokyo, where their earliest material had been recorded, the five members of Kikagaku Moyo found new inspiration in a familiar and comfortable environment. With their adopted homebase of Amsterdam under lockdown and their touring activities halted due to the pandemic, the band felt a renewed sense of freedom being back in shitamachi, or the old downtown area of their hometown. With unrestricted time in the studio, they began to build upon the demos and song fragments they'd amassed since their last tour. In the 1.5 months spent in Tokyo, everything started to come together. "Monaka", its name taken from a type of Japanese wafer sweets, takes melodic inspiration from traditional minyo folk styles, while "Yayoi Iyayoi" is a rare instance of the band singing in their native tongue, its evocative lyrics utilizing archaic words taken from old poetry and nature books found in one of the many secondhand bookstores of Tokyo. For "Meu Mar", an Erasmos Carlos cover, the original Portuguese lyrics were translated into English, then to Japanese. Strangely enough, the words seem to conjure an image of the protagonist floating among the clouds, looking down upon Tokyo Bay. In fact, it may be possible to draw a parallel between the topography of the band's home country-an island nation, surrounded by bodies of water-and the mysterious isle of Kumoyo. Are they one and the same? Has the band finally made it back home? It's up to the listener to decide.