quête:common sense

“And now for a gentleman who’s come all the way from Kingston, Jamaica and a place called Cling Cling Avenue. We present to you the one and only, the Originator, the Godfather, Daddy U Roy!”

U Roy had visited Brighton before but there was something special about that balmy night in August 2017, when he walked out on stage at the Komedia to a hero’s welcome and immediately got the crowd cheering and dancing. There was so much warmth and excitement generated that night, and it’s all captured on this final live album of the reggae superstar’s illustrious career.

U Roy wasn’t quite the originator, but he was the first Jamaican deejay to dominate the Top 3 places on both radio stations and turn his predecessors’ simple exhortations into an artform – one that evolved into a global phenomenon. It was his performances on King Tubby’s Hometown Hi-Fi that made him the talk of Jamaica and led him to Treasure Isle studio, where he voiced hits like Tide Is High and Wear You To The Ball. From then on his catchy, uplifting rhymes could be heard on radios and jukeboxes throughout the island, as well as from behind the control tower of his King Stur Gav sound-system, where MCs like Josey Wales, Brigadier Jerry and Charlie Chaplin learnt their craft. The veteran deejay, who died in February 2021, continued recording and touring into his late seventies, and without abandoning either his musical standards or Rastafarian beliefs. At his peak, U Roy voiced for Jamaica legends like Lee “Scratch” Perry, Bunny Lee and Channel One, in addition to several European labels. What most of his recordings have in common is a sense of hope and often joy, because even Get Up Stand Up is delivered with optimism. They are the qualities that come across on this life-affirming set, recorded in front of an appreciative audience, and backed by some of the UK’s finest reggae musicians.

Sharing with you the debut Album of Nice Girl titled “Ipsum”.
As a natural progression from her prior singles on Public Possession the music has a very capturing energy, although essentially machine music every single sound on the record seems connected with mother earth.
It’s rooted in the common ground that is home to all of us: the soil that nurtures flora & fauna, the air we breath, the water we drink, the sun & moon that shine upon our bodies.
One tribe, a million rituals, a common ground: The Dance (the Beat). Repetitive rhythms creating a sense of community & togetherness.

Red Vinyl

nown for her delicate compositions, soaked in dream-like surrealism, Icelandic musician Sóley has attracted a huge following since launching her solo career back in 2010. Her 2012 single ‘Pretty Face’ went on to generate an enormous amount of buzz, and quickly became a viral sensation. Now, with three solo LPs under her belt, Sóley is preparing to debut a completely new sound via the release of her new concept album, Mother Melancholia, on October 22nd.

Described by the artist as "Nosferatu meets Thelma and Louise in a vampire church under the watchful eye of David Lynch", Mother Melancholia is the soundtrack to the end of the world as we know it. As a self-confessed news addict, Sóley became obsessed with the idea that the world is ending. Having surrounded herself with real-life stories of global warming and patriarchal politics she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to die. This feeling was so all encompassing that it sparked the idea for a new project. Could there be a soundtrack for the last days of humans on earth? How would that sound?

“I read books about possible dystopian worlds and started writing poems about irrational and in love characters who live in gray and cold imaginary loneliness. In each other’s burning arms. Walking in circles with no way out” she explains. “After all, the album reflects our life here and now. Our life and reality is a kind of dystopian world.”

Whilst writing the album, which serves as a tongue-in-cheek eulogy to our planet, Sóley began reading about ecofeminism, a branch of feminism which uses the concept of gender to analyse the relationship between humans and the natural world. Ecofeminism emphasizes that both women and nature must be respected but also separated. Since the beginning of time, the natural world has been synonymous with female identity, phrases like Mother Nature are commonplace. “The patriarchy views women as volatile and hysterical. Earth and women are either our saviours or our destroyers,” explains Sóley. “It’s so easy to abuse the earth, like the patriarchy has abused women since the dawn of time, then ask for forgiveness afterwards and promise they´ll never do it again”.

The new album sees Sóley move away from the indie-pop of her previous releases. She began by experimenting with writing songs on the accordion, allowing her a new sense of freedom in her writing. The process allowed her to broaden her horizons even further and experiment with a whole range of new and exciting sounds. “I bought myself a theremin as I was really excited about the unpitched sound and there is no perfect pitch during the end of days,” she laughs. “I also bought a mellotron, my first moog and a cello and taught myself how to play each of them. All of these new instruments are particularly suitable for the kinds of aesthetic inconveniences which I have learned to embrace.”

Album opener ‘Sunrise Skulls’, one of the most cinematic moments on the album, was inspired by the Me Too and SlutWalk movements and tells the story of a group of women who rise up and fight the patriarchy. ‘Blows Up’, a track that would be at home on any horror soundtrack, is a sarcastic love letter from the Earth to humans. Standout track ‘Desert’ is an incredibly moving song dedicated to the next generation. “It’s about the guilt you feel, as a mother, for having children and leaving them on the frontline. My daughter, for example, will take over this inevitable war” explains Sóley.

In true soundtrack style, the album flows through the end of the world in chronological order, closing with the Earth’s final moments. ‘Sundown’ is a dark piano ballad detailing human kind’s final day on Earth. “And everyday, I dig my own grave, and as I dive in you´ll hold my hand” she sings, over twinkling piano and swirling synths. We then hear the world end on ‘XXX’, a dark and swirling soundscape that swells before fading to silence. On ‘Elegía’ the silence then turns to the sound of the ocean, as we hear the Earth, like a woman finally free from a violent relationship, healing on her own.

Mother Melancholia is the mark of an artist confidently striding into more experimental territory. With a lengthy and successful career behind her, Sóley felt compelled to try something new and express the real her. The music might be shrouded in darkness but it’s a move that fills her with joy and freedom. “I hope that people not only enjoy the new sound, but also that Mother Melancholia might raise some questions in people, particularly women,” she says. “I’m under no illusions that this album will change the world but I hope that people can connect with the idea”.

Featuring Squirrel Flower and Liam O’Neill (SUUNS). Recommended If You Like: Mount Eerie, Low, Richard Swift, the Weather Station, Lomelda, Fleet Foxes, Squirrel Flower, L’Rain. Cedric Noel is a songwriter, bassist, collaborator and producer currently based in Montréal, Québec. The newest longplayer from Tio'tiá:ke/Montreal staple Cedric Noel lands with a stunning sense of surety and self. Hang Time stands as a high water mark for a songwriter who's spent the past decade quietly expanding the borders of his music. Longtime fans will recognize the fluid elements of the album’s open-ended rock formations: reflective strumming, soaring choruses, searing guitar lines, subtle bass grooves; all occasionally dissolving into pools of pure ambience. New listeners will find surprises throughout: threads of folk pop, ambient and sound collage fasten the foundations of this expressive whole. However, what’s most striking on Hang Time is Noel’s newfound sense of voice, both literal and metaphorical. Written primarily in 2017-18 during an intense period of self-reflection, this collection of songs finds Noel wrestling profoundly with his sense of identity, self and place. The album’s material was captured faithfully at The Pines, a beloved downtown Montreal studio whose doors shuttered shortly after amidst the strain of the pandemic. Noel worked closely and patiently with friend and engineer Steve Newton, ensuring the songs had the time and space needed to come fully to fruition. Hang Time features subtle rhythm work from drummer Liam O’Neill (SUUNS) and guest spots from Brigitte Naggar (Common Holly) and Tim Crabtree (Paper Beat Scissors) among others. The album opens in mid-air with ‘Comuu’, a song that implores a becoming-more while hovering triumphantly. Then follows a suite of songs (‘Headspace’, ‘Keep’, ‘Stilling’) that recall the heart-rending power of y2k-era Low, albeit with a more vigorous beat. On ‘Bass Song’, an intimate duet with musician Ella Williams (Squirrel Flower) that explores the depths of interpersonal constriction. At the crux of the album sits ‘Born’, a deceptively pleasant-sounding song that explores the confounding emotionality of adoption before fading into a distended soundfield. Throughout the back half of the album, Noel double’s down on this commitment to his genuine, proud, Black self. The most confrontational track, ‘Allies’ finds him refraining “Are you on my side?” as a trailing guitar solo interweaves a Malcolm X soundbite, eventually engulfing the composition. Glorious lead single ‘Nighttime (Skin)’ traces the artist’s sense of ancestral dissociation through to a triumphant moment of pride in self-acceptance. Throughout Hang Time, Noel finds a way to ask hard questions (both of the listener and himself) in ways that are compassionate, open and honest. The ebb and flow of tension and tenderness that moves within these tracks helps to grow the heart and redefine what Black music can be in 2021.

“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve listened to Age of Exile in the past few weeks. I got a preview before it came out and on the first listen I was hooked. My first impression was that it sounded like Kaleidoscope (with whom Straw Man Army shares members), but it’s reaching toward something more like the song-oriented anarcho punk of Zounds and Crisis. I’ve been playing this record into the ground in the subsequent weeks, though, and there’s so much more to hear than a simple “this kinda sounds like this” comparison. One thing Straw Man Army shares with Kaleidoscope is a sense of rhythmic sophistication and inventiveness. We expect that a neo-anarcho band will have some interesting marching band snare patterns, but there’s so much more to the tracks on Age of Exile. Every song has a unique groove (or rather several of them, frequently overlapping), giving the album a sense of scope and breadth far beyond most contemporary punk records. And then there’s the sense of melody, which is equally sophisticated. While the interwoven rhythms make each song seem like a dense tapestry, the guitar melodies have a sense of sweetness and directness that makes Straw Man Army seem approachable and human. And then there are the lyrics, which I haven’t been able to dig into thoroughly, but are as dense, poetic, and vibrant as the music, focusing on how to live in the rubble of empire. Age of Exile is a striking album no matter which aspect of it you focus on, and it’s so distinctive and consuming that I can already tell it’s going to be a big part of the soundtrack to this part of my life.”

This album is a critical meditation on variations of Orientalism practiced by Arabs themselves, as well as those who were born and raised within the diaspora. It originally began as a documentation of extended drum techniques, but eventually morphed into a project of more ambitious scope. Having an open timeframe, Julius Masri gave himself reasons to include all the instruments he obsessively picked up and learned over the years. The work accumulated intentions and guiding principles, and it became rather autobiographical in nature. Some of the tracks either refer to or were recorded in the actual physical spaces he grew up near, in Tripoli, Lebanon during the 1980s. The "Arabic Room" of the title refers to the sitting room in his family‘s house that was decked out in hyper orientalist exoticism, mashing together furniture, fixtures, paintings from all over the Arabic speaking world. The sitting room, or salon, is common in Lebanese homes made specifically to host and entertain guests. Rimsky-Korsakov's Sheherazade and other western made Orientalist cultural artifacts not only had ubiquitous presence in the house, but also found their way onto tv shows and commercials. After moving to the US, his parents recreated this room in their home. Additionally, his father's generation was one that saw their country transform from a post-agrarian trading society after WWII to a center of banking and finance within the span of a few decades. The sense of some lost Eden like innocence of the interwar years permeated much of the media that was available to him growing up there. This album is neither ironic nor some judgmental pronouncement. Call it critical nostalgia. For Masri, there isn't much difference between this form of exotic fantasy creation, and his own adolescence steeped in comic books and listening to bands like Voivod. They both seem to him part of what's known in German as Fernweh, "a nostalgia for a place one's never been". All instruments are performed by Masri himself, (drums, Egyptian rababa, Azeri kamancheh, circuit bent electronics, keyboards, hammered dulcimer, and vocals). Genre-hopping is foundational to the album’s ethos; jazz, metal, experimental, electro-chaabi, and sound collage all appear within the framework of Arabic music, creating the sense of adventurous possibilities best associated with well curated mixtapes. Julius Masri is a Philadelphia based multi-instrumentalist and performer/composer, originally born in Tripoli, Lebanon. The Arabic Room is his debut solo-album. Currently he is working and playing with members of the Sun Ra Arkestra. The album will be released on vinyl only in an edition of 300 copies.

This double album is a new collaboration between long-time Umor Rex artists Andreas Gerth (one half of Driftmachine) and Carl Oesterhelt (11 Pieces for Synthesizer). Both developed their shared musical cosmos during their time with the now defunct Tied +Tickled Trio. Oesterhelt is also known for his solo compositions for orchestras and for collaborations with Johannes Enders and Hans-Joachim Irmler of Faust.

As futurism seems inherent to electronic music, the backward-looking view is alien to its nature – consequently, a dialectical struggle between these principles is rarely expressed with the means of electronics. Especially today, its essence as a medium of progress stands in opposition to a sceptical position. By reconnecting us with history, The Aporias of Futurism seeks to define a critical location, that stands in opposition to the postmodern concept of interpretation, deconstruction and reformulation and the belief in progress that goes with it.

The working method for the album Andreas and Carl followed was the usual musique-concrète-technique – cut/assemble/edit/process pre-recorded sounds – but instead of deconstructing the concrete noises into an abstract sound entity, they followed a different path: the organic interweaving of orchestral structures with the electronically processed noise layers into a composition in the sense of classical modernism at the beginning of the 20th century.

Carl started with sketches recorded via a broken CD player, processed through a ring modulator, which sounded like old electronic music from the 1950s. To interact with these fragments Andreas recorded and processed a plethora of everyday noises, atmospheres, tonal fragments from the modular, industrial and shortwave radio noise, percussion in the form of door slamming, falling metal sheets, ball tracks, and so on. So, while they still played within the futuristic discipline, the reference to the past is actually unmistakable. One can hear it in the tonality of the contrasting orchestral passages, in the sound character of the processed samples and the sonic electronic layers. But it is precisely here, where a narrative tension develops. Theses and antitheses, extreme (unresolved) opposites, contrasts… essentially inner contradictions, or expressed in another word aporias… … but there is another factor at play here, something that plays a subordinate, almost ostracized role in the post-modern context: beauty (albeit the beauty of ruins) – beauty, the only refuge of the pessimist.

In the course of the process, a wide range of motifs and ideas emerged from the fog of memory. Free associations of concepts, books and authors from a wide period of time, such as Milton's Paradise Lost, William Blake, Robert Graves, ancient Rome, as well as Borges and Juan Rulfo. This flood of images is also incorporated on the album cover as a "free interpretation" of cultural objects and their relations in time.

The overarching motif of a sceptical rejection of the idea of Futurism is illustrated by a quote from Emile M. Cioran, the writer who most closely embodies the common spirit of the work presented here.

"But here comes the strangest thing: the Futurist idolizes becoming only until he has enforced that order for which he fought; then the ideal conclusion of time becomes apparent to him, the ‘always’ of utopia, which concludes and crowns the historical process. The conception of the Golden Age of Paradise par excellence, thus grips believers and unbelievers alike. But between the original paradise of the religions and the eschatological of the utopia there is the whole distance that separates a nostalgia from a hope, a repentance from a delusion, an achieved from an unrealized completion."

All music composed by Andreas Gerth and Carl Oesterhelt between Berlin and Munich, Germany in 2021. Produced and mixed by Andreas Gerth in Berlin. Mastered by John Tejada in Sherman Oaks, USA. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón in Mexico City.

Mystery Jets announce that their sixth studio album ‘A Billion Heartbeats’ will be released on 27th September on Caroline International. The band also release ‘Screwdriver’, the first single to be taken from the album.

Screwdriver is an uncompromising look at the rise of the rebranded alt-right in the UK, built around a powerfully positive message: "Fight them with love / then the world will be ours".

Lead singer Blaine Harrison says of the song, “Screwdriver is about the mechanics of intolerance. Looking back at times of economic instability in history, we see how easily deep chasms grow in society and the population seeks change wherever it is most convincingly promised. Conflict arises as cultures and belief systems clash, unwilling to accept one another’s place in society, because we are fed the rhetoric that our neighbours are those responsible for our problems: then inevitably nationalism once more raises its ugly head above the parapet. But whereas political agendas fuel divisiveness, music unites and reminds us of all that we have in common. The message of Screwdriver is not a pessimistic one - because perhaps faced with confrontation we can find understanding, and even maybe learn how to listen to, and love one another.”

Each room of the house in the video is a metaphor for the different sections of society in the UK. It wraps around the narrative of the song, that in order to overcome adversity, you have to “Fight Them With Love”. The visual showcases the song’s inherent message, clashing aggressiveness with tenderness, and culminates in showing after anger, we can always come together through love.
All great albums start from a unique perspective. But try a window on the Strand, in an abandoned office block, overlooking the kind of political upheaval London hasn’t seen in a generation. Blaine Harrison was living as a property guardian right around the corner from Trafalgar Square when he found himself witness to an entire year of protests. Every weekend from January 2017 on, people were marching for a different cause: "In the space of six months it was Black Lives Matter, the huge ‘Our NHS’ march, Unite for Europe," he recalls. "Then the solidarity sleep-out organised by Help Refugees, where we slept in Whitehall for the night... The protestors would wake me up in the morning. I’d just walk down and join in.”

Over the course of that year, Mystery Jets' sixth long-player, A Billion Heartbeats, was born. "This album wasn’t about making pointed opinions,” says Blaine. “It was about being a mirror for what’s going on, reflecting back the way people are feeling.” By turns tender and fierce, abstract and full of classic rock energy, A Billion Heartbeats achieves a balance of passion, fear and hope. Amid the colourful cavalcade of rich harmonies, heavy guitars and rallying cries, the album’s essential message - about personal responsibility, and the power in becoming engaged. In a sense, it's not just their "state of the nation” record but their “state of a generation” record too.

We increasingly hear from musicians that music should be an escape these days - that there’s enough suffering in the world, enough misery on the news, without writings songs about it too. A Billion Heartbeats makes all that sound like a bit of a cop-out. These are songs of protest that get the heart racing in joy; high on hope, and serious in their message. Proof, basically, that music speaks louder than words.

Ben Bertrand weaves transverse waves into otherworldly compositions. He embodies the singular motion of these melodic and harmonic forms in order to draft new sonic possibilities freed from the laws of the physical plane. Pulsating at the kernel of Ben Bertrand’s musical universe are vivid dreams generating the fabric of these tapestries. Dokkaebi is deeply familiar yet refreshingly unknown, like a comforting whisper from your subconscious. It gently drifts into perception, glistening like the sun sparkling off a glacier gliding along the edge of your vision.

Deep listening to these tonal sculptures is enriching. By opening oneself to their deliberate unfolding, you will discover new principles for sound organization far afield from common modes of operation. The gradual, rhythmic progression of his compositions are ever-shifting grains, which upon thoughtful contemplation, reveal astonishing worlds. Bertrand’s music is constructed from blueprints drafted with honest intentions aspiring to bring humans closer to a sense of wonder.

Ben Bertrand welcomes each listener to discover his music anew from their own perspectives. It is infinitely in time with your time. These are the ripples in the wake of successive revolutions of universal evolution. Dokkaebi is an example of musical expressions adapting to the contours of the human psyche through gentle reflection of multiplicity. They are sounds reshaping themselves to suit the contours of each individual’s subconscious—sonic entities projected simultaneously as molecular and holistic.

Dokkaebi is an oceanic expression softly set in motion by honest aims that echo and grow. Ben Bertrand beckons you to listen up and look in. There is great reward in this generous flow.

Ben Bertrand was accompanied by Christina Vantzou, Geoffrey Burton, Indré Jurgeleviciuté, Echo Collective: Margaret Hermant & Neil Leiter, Otto Lindholm.

“I’m back; straight back to my squared room too small since forever: premature truth This is not love at all, I can’t breathe
This captivity: it was before, it is now; it never ends!
It yells at me: what are you now? what! hurts me, accuses me; I don’t care, I’m ready, sharp! a vitreous, yellow eye consciousness becomes dream and nightmare, it’s a snap I despair, I inhale a revolution, eternal cycle, orbit, serpent the abdomen, ice; the common sense, deserted
I sweat out of these walls – you will never get me!
I vibrate, tremble, deseo the barricade unfold rough, cold, dirty
rectangles, vertigo in quarters I lose myself with them, I lose myself with you that’s heavy, firm, advancing holding us together
the acid points at the throat, bumping I hold it back; it holds me back
pains, purities, fantasies eyelids tighten, suicidal lovers: the fall…
and this culminating thrill owns our own selves”

‘Orgasma’ is out.

Jimmy Tamborello returns with a collection of 10 pop-infused vocal hymns – simultaneously perfect dance floor fillers and lullabies. "Away" is the second of two Dntel albums to be released in 2021 by Morr Music in collaboration with Les Albums Claus. While "The Seas Trees See" showcased Tamborello's more intricate and quiet side, "Away" embraces his love for pop music. A genre which like no other has been resonating the advancements of technology from the very beginning. Songwriting was sequenced and computerized on such a large scale that it would change the sonic aesthetics of the charts forever.

Dntel is a musician who changed pop music forever – and still works in this never-ending labour of love, both effortless and highly focused, constantly tweaking the universe of our musical perception. Whether beatless or uncompromisingly embracing the limelight of collective ecstasy with one of his most remembered tunes "(This Is) The Dream Of Evan And Chan", his almost forgotten anthem "Don’t Get Your Hopes Up" or his work as James Figurine. "Away" features 10 of these extravaganzas – uniting his audience once more in hope and future-bound optimism.

"I grew up with 80s techno-pop – these influences always come through in my music", Jimmy writes from Los Angeles. For this album, though, "I was thinking more of 80s indie pop or labels like 4AD. It is a mix of those influences along with trying to figure out what elements of my own discography I still connect with. I wanted it to reflect old Dntel records as well as the techno-pop band Figurine I used to be in. I have always considered my music basically being techno-pop, but not referring to pop as popular music – I just like pretty melodies. But with the Dntel moniker, I never had the ambition to produce music for a really big audience.”

It is exactly that looseness in approaching music which makes Tamborello’s style of composing so unique. On "Away" he combines a healthy dose of distortion with the most-sticking melodies, vocals and bitter-sweet lyrics he ever came up with – performing all vocals himself, with the help of technology. "My voice has a limited range. When I applied this vocal processing it seemed to bring out the emotions more. I don’t see it as the same as the more artificial, autotuned style of modern pop music. I think it still sounds like it could be a real person singing, just not me."

Using this technique, Dntel disembodies himself from his own art, welcoming all kinds of interpretations re. his current state as an artist. "Somehow this processed voice feels closer to how I see myself than my normal voice, for better or worse…", he writes. Pop music is a fragile entity, making its kingpins vulnerable. Many emotions reveal a lot of the originator’s personality –this is something one has to be prepared for. On "Away", Jimmy Tamborello finds the perfect way of marrying his unique musical personality with both the demands and possibilities of pop music. Just listen to "Connect" and you’ll know what we’re talking about. A perfect, yet timeless album for less than perfect times.

Introducing Oslo’s next big exports, Veps. Open The Door is an introduction to their nineties tinged, pop rock and out September 3rd on Kanine Records.

Hailing from the eastside of Norway’s capital, Veps have known each other since elementary school and began playing music together in middle school, aged 14. Although growing up with very different influences, the girls had a common sense as outsiders and while making a short film together decided to make an impromptu band. With Helena, Laura and June already accomplished at their instruments, Maja was assigned as drummer, she had never touched a drum set before, and Veps was born. Already causing a stir playing a series of DIY shows wherever they could, the band self-released Do I Hear A Maybe? and Funny Things.

Equipped with their stunning debut EP which showcases songwriting beyond their youthful years, Veps signed to New York label Kanine Records, planting them firmly as one of the most exciting bands to watch.

The first thing that strikes you when hearing 'Nosso' is its feeling of intimacy and warmth. The title, which means 'Ours' in Portuguese, is apt since he sees the record as the result of letting a wild variety of people into his world. João notes that 'I didn't know most of the collaborators before meeting up with them in a studio somewhere in the world, so most of these songs are coming from a very immediate and honest sense of collaboration where you spend an afternoon with someone learning about each other at the same time as you're making music. It's a shared experience, a moment where two or more people came up with ideas together, that they probably wouldn't have had if they were in their comfort zone.' These meetings were turned into songs at home in Lisbon once the main ideas were created collaboratively elsewhere. 'On this album, like in everything else I did so far, the focus on the instrumental side of things was experimenting with rhythmic patterns and genres from the Portuguese-speaking universe while applying them to songs created with other artists from completely different backgrounds and places.' There's something in this process that has left the album sounding super fresh as this is a sound without borders that pulls you in. It's music everyone can be a part of, where even the most rugged up-tempo cut sounds welcoming. It's an overwhelmingly positive and joyous experience to immerse yourself in 'Nosso.' It's no wonder that the central motif of the album artwork shows a less common view of Lisbon, one where instead of looking at the historic city centre we face the suburbs, where these musical and cultural experiments have been and still are occurring, undeniably shaping the musical and cultural landscape of Lisbon in the process. As much a soul record as it is a record infused with the beats of the Portuguese-speaking world, 'Nosso' is a reflection of Branko's ongoing musical explorations and his vision of Lisbon as a privileged cultural hub for the Portuguese-speaking world and beyond. Branko fuses local rhythms from kizomba to baile funk and afrohouse through European electronic genres with a clear accessible pop sensibility and the aim of creating a unified sound that puts all these individual musical expressions in perspective as part of a greater whole. For João, this is the logical next step in his musical evolution.

The first release on new Melbourne imprint Companion comes from Naarm (Melbourne) based producer Kae Kitzler, under the alias of KiTA. Following on from two impressive singles in 2020, the debut release from the Balinese-born producer is a welcome plunge into long-form listening.

Recorded over the spring and summer of 2020, months spent in lockdown in Kitzler's apartment in the south-eastern suburbs of Naarm, Lucent feels deeply introspective. The EP explores the contradictory influences of Kitzler's upbringing, weaving a gentle ensemble of organic textures with strands of crisp, pulsating percussion. The result is powerfully cinematic, evoking a sense of longing for vaster spaces - an ode to the meditative power of mountain and sea.

KiTA has crafted a release for contemplation and inward meditation, a sonic antidote after a year of social isolation. Reflecting on the process, he concludes "an image comes to mind, a sight common to those travelling at the crack of dawn on tropical coastlines. It is one of the sun rising above the deep blue horizon emitting a gradient of lucent red and gold across the sky." Lucent conjures these feelings of awe, wonder, and transitory periods of wholeness.

Includes Download Code and Special Insert Drawing !
Quindi Records continues to yield intriguing prospects as we reach the third edition, moving from Woo's astral ruminations via Cabaret Du Ciel's sonorous meditations on to the dusty, dusky mantras of Dead Bandit. Maintaining the ambiguous creative practices of the label's previous releases, From The Basement r eaches to the earth for the malleable grit of post-rock while making the most of the broader sonic outlooks afforded by kosmische and electronic effects processes.
Dead Bandit are Chicagoan songwriter Ellis Swan and Canadian multi-instrumentalist James Schimpl. Swan has previously released solo works including the stunning, inward-looking album I'll Be Around, a lo-fi Southern gothic dragging the husk of country ballads through battered signal chains. In Dead Bandit, Swan and Schimpl's artistic vision casts its gaze outwards on a vast expanse, where the distortion has space to stretch its legs and the drums pound out into open space. There's a common tonality at work here, the duos guitars telling a thousand hard-bitten tales where Swan's voice falls silent. It's no surprise to learn Swan and Schimpl's reference points include Neil Young's Dead Man soundtrack, SF noise rockers Chrome and the imperial work of the late, great Mark Sandman of Morphine.
You can sense Jim Jarmusch's America just lingering behind the road-weary thrum of 'These Clouds' and detect the shadow of Tom Waits lurking in the raunchy lurch of 'FF M'. The pointedly titled 'Sedated' calls to mind the slowcore movement and its rejection of rock n' roll's fixation on speed. Instead, tonality and atmosphere are key across From The Basement , although the ambient lull of 'I See Her There' is the exception rather than the rule. Dead Bandit's desert sound has vibrancy and immediacy to match its moodiness, from the sultry swagger of opening track 'Mud' to the bold and borderline bombastic 'When I Looked Around'.
Like the previous Quindi releases, this record is inherently experimental in nature, but not at the expense of its warmth and instant appeal. From the basement, an inquisitive pair with primitive tools look out and imagine a colossal plain as the canvas on which to paint their picture

Nils Petter Molvær and Mino Cinelu had both come a long way in their careers before they met. Cinelu gained international renown on Miles Davis’ albums We Want Miles and Amandla, also noted for his playing with the likes of Weather Report, Gong, Herbie Hancock, Pat Metheny, Sting, Santana, Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson, to name just a few. He has also released 3 solo records and collaborated with Dave Holland and Kevin Eubanks on the World Trio album. Nils Petter Molvær, meanwhile, is one of the most outstanding figures in European jazz. In 1997, he made his debut on ECM Records with the album Khmer, combining the Nordic feeling of nature with the Southeast Asian philosophy of sound. His journey into the uncharted areas of music spans almost a dozen records, on which he explores various combinations of acoustic and electrical sounds. He collaborated with Berlin’s electronic producer Moritz von Oswald in 2013, with the reggae philosophers Sly & Robbie in 2018 and with Bill Laswell on several occasions.

Cinelu and Molvær in some senses represent two worlds, which – at first glance – could hardly be more different. Their musical home is the entire planet, but while Molvær's hoarse and cloudy trumpet sound evokes boreal cold, Cinelu stands for the rhythmic fire of Latin America and Africa. On ‘SulaMadiana’, they’ve found their common playground - the album’s title itself a tribute to the two musicians’ heritage. Sula is the Norwegian island from where Molvær grew up, and Madiana is a synonym for Martinique, from where Cinelu's father hails.

SulaMadiana is a cornucopia, spilling out reverberations of Miles Davis, Gong, and previous works of Molvær, and yet Molvær and Cinelu open up doors to entirely new worlds. Cinelu becomes a singer on his percussion, while Molvær's electronically distorted sounds create a driving pulse. Cinelu plays acoustic guitar, Molvær conjures up drones on the electric guitar. The interplay between the two musicians is key, Molvær observing; “We are different, but what we have in common is that we like to give some space to things. I create space for him, he creates space for me, and we both create space for music.” Cinelu adds: “It doesn't matter who has what share in music. We both know each other’s cultures, we find bridges and crossings, and often we walk these paths that lead in the same direction. We wrote everything together and followed our feelings. There are no limits or barriers.”

First run on silver marbled vinyl!

2020 was a year like no other. Thankfully, Shipwrec is slowly returning to normality. Not only is the label back to releasing form, but also the roster of artists is being expanded with the superb addition of Caron. Known for his releases on labels like 030303 and Brokntoys, Caron debuts on Shipwrec with a four tracker of sheer quality. Off-kilter percussion introduces the breathy pads and grandeur of "Ancestry," a piece of dreamy chords and acid undertones. The haunting "Common Sense" follows. Drums stagger next spectral vocals in this chilling electro piece. A similar stalking note continues on the flip with the 303 soaked "Lost." A steady kick offers a bedrock from which looming keys, bitter squawk and dancefloor paranoia take hold. Hopeful shades arrive with the brilliance of "Ruins." From industrial percussion and metallic rinses, a deep and intricate finale forms to bring "Shattered" to a terrific close.

‘PEACEMEAL’ is yet another reinvention for Ron
Gallo - a human being on a lifelong chase of
himself and using music as the main vehicle.
On his third LP, he exits the noisy confines of the
garage and goes outside where there’s no limit to
embracing all aspects of himself.
The result is a colourful hodgepodge of 90’s hiphop, r&b, weirdo pop, jazz and punk. The sounds
change but the sense of humanity, humour and a
truly eccentric worldview is the common thread in
all of Gallo’s music.
Mostly written and recorded during a period of
self-isolation in summer 2019, it’s an uncanny
foreshadowing of the global situation that was to
come and give all the songs a new meaning. This
is feel-good music that attempts to confront and
understand human existence.
Ron Gallo just wants to be himself, destroy
expectations and encourage you to do the same in
a world that does just about everything to try and
box us in - not to mention, this is his best most
fun one yet.

Though any and all vocals on De Sidera are wordless, language is central to the album. ‘I try to make my vocalisms sound like words,’ she explains, ‘but it is a kind of invented language.
Somehow the form, the signifier, is enough to express meaning, sense, emotion.’ Burelli notes that this concept has resonance with her practice in Greek and Turkish music, in which wordless vocals and instrumental improvisations are common.
This is front and center on a song like the title track ‘De Sidera,’ where Burelli’s rising and falling vocals dance atop an undulating, contemplative bassline - close your eyes, and the clear tides of the Mediterranean lap at the sand - her wordless intonations guiding you to a tranquil state.
Burelli surrenders to the natural world and the ineffability of words - on De Sidera she shares the gem of universality she discovered while doing so.

“Instead of landscape sketches I wanted to go into more personal areas of my reality,” says Jim Ghedi of his third album In The Furrows Of Common Place. “To hold up certain aspects of society that were laying bare in front of me.”

Whilst Ghedi’s previous idiosyncratic take on folk has often been instrumental, exploring the natural world and his relationship to it through his music as seen on 2018's A Hymn For Ancient Land. His new album In The Furrow Of Common Place is a deeper plunge inside himself to offer up more of his voice to accompany his profoundly unique and moving compositions. “There were things I was seeing around me and being affected by in my daily life,” he says. “Socially and politically I saw defiance but also hopelessness. I wanted to be honest with the frustration and turmoil I was experiencing.”

The decision to include more of Ghedi’s vocals was a conscious one and driven by a need to say something. However, this isn’t a brash raging political polemic. As is now customary with Ghedi’s work, it is rich in nuance, history, poetry and allegory. Musically, the album is equally locked into this ongoing sense of evolution. Ghedi’s intricate yet deft guitar playing still twists and flows its way through the core, weaving in and out of gliding double bass, sweeping violin, gentle percussion and vocals that shift from tender solos to overlapping harmonies.

As with much of Ghedi’s work, there’s a rich connection between the past and the current. Musically, he continues to sit in a singular position of sounding distinctly contemporary yet also with a touch of traditional flair. This expands itself into the lyrical terrain here too. “I've been exploring contemporary issues and in that process discovering sources that correlate with similar issues in the past,” he says. “Which proves that these issues throughout history - environmental destruction, working class poverty etc - are ongoing.”

For all the socio-political and historical backdrop to the record it is not one that feels overwhelmed by it. Much like Ghedi’s work when it was largely instrumental - and some of it still is here - it flows and unfurls thoughtfully, with space still being utilised masterfully, creating room to pause and reflect. It’s another inimitable record from an artist that truly sounds like nobody else right now.