Cerca:conjure

Ever since the release of their acclaimed debut EP P'eau (2018) these Mechelen-based musicians have been honing their craft in songwriting and production, building a new home studio to record future material while also expanding from a three-piece to a five-piece ensemble. By adding singer/percussionist Stefan De Graef (Psychonaut) and guitarist/singer Sander Rom (L'Itch) to their ranks, HIPPOTRAKTOR have become a more versatile outfit able to employ a broader palette of sounds, taking the band's earlier instrumental prog metal sound to new heights. Taking notes from the best moments in contemporary progressive and post metal, HIPPOTRAKTOR capture the awe-inspiring power of nature_from the delicacy of the first falling leaf to the massive cosmic energy of the sun. By combining the big, catchy riffs and the rhythmical prowess of Gojira with the relentless but equally groove-loaded complexity of Meshuggah, Meridian delivers an overwhelming experience of sound, presenting the listener with sentiments that are recognisable, but with an intensity that seems larger-than-life. "Meridian finds its origin in everyday moods, taken out of context and morphed into a stylised version that re- flects the dreamer in me," explains main songwriter and guitarist Chiaran Verheyden. "It tells the story of someone who's lost in a world too massive to comprehend, and seeks answers in places where none can be found. Meridian was written as an attempt to distillate what I felt but couldn't put into words." As the main vocalist in the group, finding these words was the job of Stefan De Graef, who carried over his fascination for philosophy and religion from his other band Psychonaut. "Meridian tells the story of a solitary wanderer on the Earth in the absence of other beings," explains Stefan. "Without anyone to share knowledge and history with, the protagonist is forced to create his own truths and stories about the nature of life, consciousness and the universe. The protagonist begins to personify and deify his surroundings, assigning sentience to the trees, the mountains, the wind, the waters etc. for they are his only companions in this desolate world." Essentially, Meridian is an exploration of the evolutionary theory of naturism, which was put forth by German scholar Max Mu"ller in the 19th century, and which argues that religion finds its origin in the deification of the forces of nature by early human beings. By juxtaposing this sociological theory with seven tracks that unfailingly conjure images of the earth, sea and sky, HIPPOTRAKTOR have created an analogy that enlarges the imaginative quality of their music to (literally) epic proportions. Combining the best of prog, groove and post-metal, Meridian comprises an incredible ride for fans of soaring hooks, technical riffing and earth-shattering breakdowns. Limited bluegreen-grey single colour vinyl edition, gatefold! FOR FANS OF Meshuggah, Periphery, Cloudkicker, Intronaut, Animals As Leaders, Gojira, Skyharbor, Psychonaut

Born in Majorca, Marc Melià is a composer/producer, who’s been based in Brussels for over 10 years. First spotted alongside Françoiz Breut, Lonely Drifter Karen or Borja Flames, he released Music for Prophet in 2017. It was issued on Gaspar Claus’s label Les Disques du Festival Permanent, as part of Flavien Berger’s curation.

On that first album, Marc Melià had explored the possibilities of a mythic synth; on Veus, as if sloughing, he applied the process of sound modification to his own voice, until becoming an android. But an android who sings of love and dreams, a sensitive automaton who plays with the tropes of pop music. Through this device, Marc Melià knowingly seeks poetry and beauty within transgenics, in the search of a universe where one can surf though waves of profoundly moving chord patterns, hear voices unconstrained by range limitations, or dance freely, as in zero gravity.

Part of the album has been recorded in Une ferme dans les Vosges, courtesy of Rodolphe Burger. It was recorded with Roméo Poirier, one of the most promising figures of ambient, and the elegant multi-talented Lou Rotzinger. As if progressing in parallel with his own linguistic experience, to add another layer to the sloughing, side A is sung in Catalan, Marc Melià’s mother tongue, and side B in French, his adopted language.

Like an echo to his previous album, Veus opens with an instrumental, “Pulse on a E”, which starts with a sequence created with a single note transposed to its octave, just like “Fata Fou”, the last song on Music for Prophet.

Although the title seems to reference an iconic 80s synth, “DX7” is actually about the seven days of the week. It is a love song, about the temperamental oscillations which make every morning the blank canvas of an unpredictable story. Wednesday, I hate you, Sunday, I love you. With few words and a lot of emotion, a synthetic voice is trying to grow more human each day.

“Dent de Serra” deals with the weight of memory on our relationships, but also with the way we revisit them constantly in order to integrate souvenirs within present relationships. Suddenly, the song stops and enters a new dimension, everything is different, as if what had just happened was now forgotten forever.

Oxytocin (“Oxitocines” in Catalan) is said to be the hormone of love. This song deals in a playful way with the duality between science and faith, between rational and magic, when it comes to sentimental relationships. Love is a universal theme, it is everywhere in the world, and love songs have been written for a very long time. But this particular love song is an ode to an aspect of love that has been less sung about: biology, which makes it possible to feel like you’re floating in space when you fall in love.

“Les étoiles” is a trio with Flavien Berger and Pi Ja Ma. The song is about attraction. What attracts humans to each other, but also the inevitable gravitational attraction. The song is also about accidents, magic moments that take us outside of our daily lives and give us the possibility to imagine a sidereal, infinite love.

“A propos d’une chanson” was born after Marc Melià had dreamed he had written the most beautiful song he’d ever created. When he woke up, he realized that song was actually O Superman by Laurie Anderson.

Aside from these songs, Marc Melià offers a few breaks, instrumental but no less narrative.

“Final d’hivern” conjures these quiet moments between two intense events; sleeping at night between two days; the calm that settles in after a hard winter, right before spring properly starts.

Using a musical language that clearly references Ryuichi Sakamoto, “Romain”, with its theme based on a melancholic chord pattern, could be the soundtrack to a 1970s movie lost in time. Little by little, elements that seem to come from a completely different context find their place, while turning the initial mood into something strange and unexpected.

Finally, “Retorn”, which finishes the album, is a reprise of the theme of “DX7”.

From the chords that make up a song, to the days that make up our lives, existence is but a cycle, and Veus is an exploration of them. Marc Melià keeps on drifting on his personal path, between homage to the past and visions of the future.

Ali Shaheed Muhammad and Adrian Younge are best known for their collaborations with vocalists and MCs, but these two multi-instrumentalists and producers excel in their ability to conjure musical moods with or without vocal accompaniment. Similarly, the musical legends that these two handpicked to collaborate with across this series are all jazz legends equally at home crafting unadorned compositions as they are collaborating with vocalists. This collection presents exclusive instrumental versions of songs originally released on the Jazz Is Dead albums; Roy Ayers JID002, Marcos Valle JID003, Gary Bartz JID006, and Joao Donato JID007. More than the previous eight Jazz Is Dead releases Instrumentals JID009 delivers on Adrian and Ali's original promise of showcasing the music made with their heroes, laying bare the inspired compositions created when different generations of musicians come together to collaborate in the studio. For nearly all of these songs, Adrian and Ali began with sketches and elements of songs that they developed alongside the featured musicians live in Adrian Younge's Linear Labs studio located in the Highland Park neighborhood of Los Angeles.

Impressions cast from lyric and rhythm – desire in movement, now articulated and set forth. Meaning arises between attention and action. In darkness what is it?

Air is breath, like light through crystal; it’s truth and sacred geometry. A version like ancient stone - the sample shows in layers, solid time. Compressed life. Pages packed together and seen from the edge, razor sharp and two dimensional. We are the salt we become, our children and ancestors. All at once, being forever; a verse, then volume and tome.

But we slow, dragging like ploughs tilling clay. The physical is a language like memory – translated into real. Turn from backwards to parallel, watch it reduce; remember downstream. The rock, earth and salt, our real reconfigured.

Type peels away, turning to sand in the wash. Disordering disorder - now still. Translation becomes everything, set sequence and entropy. Whole, to node, to nothing, and all. Not new, just another.

Vector Trancer’s journey continues; re-emerging into the central stream, deep dub glows and woven polyrhythm conjure vital knowledge for protection and expression. Viridis Mantra and outer canopy steam, we’re brought tense rhythm experiments and biospheric reverb – see further excursions in atmos and shades from Touch, Fax, Geometrik, or Ed Handley on a dark one.

Ancient Africa represents Nat Birchall’s official follow-up to last year’s universally acclaimed Mysticism of Sound.

Nat once again plays all the instruments here, tenor and soprano saxophone, bass clarinet, bass, drums and percussion. But this time around the Korg synth is replaced by piano as

Nat wanted to utilise a more “classic” Jazz sound to express his musical visions. He has also arranged the songs for multiple horns, with melodies and harmonies played by up to five different instruments to achieve a fuller and often glorious sound.

An exception to this is Mirror Mind, a ‘duet’ featuring tenor saxophone and piano, hence the title.

With most of his compositions Nat tends to come up with titles depending on the thoughts or images the music manifests within him as he listens back to the recording.

The title track conjures up images of an African sunrise, the horns perhaps invoking the sun as it begins to illuminate the land which was the origin of the human story on Earth.

“Africa is the root of everything, and is the source of civilization, art, music, you name it.”

Paladins is so titled for the African heroes of the past and the present, in all walks of life, social, political, the arts etc.

“Anyone who fights against oppression, whether it be through activism or art, not only in Africa but throughout the whole diaspora, is a Paladin in my book.”



Song for John Blanke is named for the African trumpeter who played in the court of Henry VIII. The horn line sounding

a little like a fanfare, but in a lower register than the Tudor trumpets might have played for the court of the king!

Malidoma is named in honour of the African writer Malidoma Patrice Some. His excellent book ‘Of Water and The Spirit’ is a deeply

moving and illuminating narrative of his life’s journey. From his abduction by Jesuit priests at an early age from his village in Burkina Faso to

his being reunited with his people and subsequent assignment to spread his people’s ancient knowledge to the Western world.

The final song, Ancestral Dance, is a musical reminder to both celebrate life as and when the occasion demands, but also to not forget where we came from, as individuals and as a species.

From the depths of an ancient dark underworld, Nigh/T\mare has conjured a powerful offering of burning emotions that light the fires of one's demons and invite the beginning of an epic journey through the unknown. Via Threnes Records from Switzerland, this offering is on point with their consistent releasing of top quality industrial/experimental techno. Entitled "Katharsis", this artistically crafted set of tracks in the form a debut album twists and turns its way over tribal rhythms with dynamic feels and beating drums that break down anything standing in the way. A powerful offering from the depths of the soul.

"Impure" is a powerful opener, like an army banging its drums and marching towards the fight, this track sets the stage from the drama to come. Like a speeding train through dystopia the injection of adrenaline comes in the form of "Self Immolation" which makes the heart beat with the force of a 100 pounding drums. Tribal percussion keeps banging its way through "Anti Balaka" before slowing into a deep melancholic track by the name of "Unarmed". Slowly building out of the calm "Unavoidable Unveiling" creates tension with droning notes and broken industrial percussion laying the soundscapes. "Doomed to Struggle" Feat. Prophan is a dramatic pushing and pulling of the hard hitting sounds and ritualistic chanting before diving into the galvanic rhythms of "The Summoning" Feat. LAIR. "The Path of Moans" brings the mood to a sombre place where the whispers from the demons below can be heard alongside the chiming of distant bells. Pact Infernal's remix of "Impure" demands attention as it offers chaos into the fold along with viciously delicious synths. Torn Relics remix of "The Summoning" builds into an onslaught of relentless percussion and deep howls from the underworld which leave you with chills running down your spine. A fitting ending to an impressive array of dynamic tracks, this is an experience never to be forgotten.

Michael Mayer’s latest EP, Brainwave Technology, comes at you purposeful, stealthy and sly. It’s a glorious left turn for the redoubtable producer, one that sees his typically lean and lithe productions buffed to a metallic, futurist sheen. There’s a gleam in the eyes of tracks like “Brainwave Technology” and “Alpha” that speaks of serious fun, of the intersection of the pleasure zone and the frontal lobe.

“Brainwave Technology” itself is informed by Mayer’s deep dive into the thorny terrain of artificial intelligence, transhumanism and posthumanism. Inspired by reading German philosopher Richard David Precht, Mayer found himself heading down the “proverbial rabbit hole,” as he describes it, “watching hours of YouTube material by self-proclaimed prophets of these ‘inevitable’ changes to come.” Never one to be taken in by the egotist’s dance, Mayer’s cynicism about the whole endeavour is tempered, a little, by the deeper questions that these figures gesture towards: “Is it really an evolutionary step that man and machine become one? Or is it rather a marketing plot by Silicon Valley billionaires?”

On “Brainwave Technology”, Mayer plays the charlatans at their own game, turning their logic against them by exposing the fruitiness of their ‘visions’. “I chose irony as my sword with which I chopped off some quotes from some of those batshit crazy prophets and self-promoters,” he explains of the drooling psychobabble he drops in the track’s lacuna. There’s a sense of humour here – how could you not laugh at these hungover egotists? – but there’s levity too, a sense that Mayer’s using sound to expose the contradictions and double-speak at the heart of these half-formed ideas. It’s a Burroughsian tactic, to slice into the heart of the voice to see what hidden truths surface.

It was Burroughs, too, who once said that “when you cut into the past, the future leaks out”; Brainwave Technology cuts into the logic of the futurologist to leak out the messiness of modern reality. On “Alpha” and “Gamma”, Mayer seems to conjure up the stark, ominous music that’d soundtrack a science fiction reinterpretation – or preinterpretation – of our modern malaise, all funereal wreaths of electronic noise and clatterboxing beats. As the EP resolves with “Device For The Young At Heart”, Mayer’s questions are piling up: “Do we want to become immortal and live on as a download? Do we really give up on Earth and put all our effort into colonising Mars?” There are no answers, of course, but plenty of imaginings-to-be. Brainwave Technology soundtracks both dystopian and utopian possibilities of what could come next.

Albums often try to evoke a time and place, few manage to do that with such startling effect as the unlikely collaboration, Leave the Bones, between the multi-generational Haitian band Lakou Mizik, and Grammy-winning electronic music artist Joseph Ray. “Haiti'' is a word that conjures up a lot of images, it is a country judged by many, most of whom have never set foot on its shores. But its history is rich, its people proud and defiant, and nowhere is that more evident than in its music. Culture is what defines the country - its drums and Vaksins (traditional horns) are symbols of freedom and pride, liberty and struggle, and represent the escapist joy of dancing. Leave the Bones paints a musical portrait, a fresh glimpse of an oft misrepresented country, that through Vodou chants, chest-pounding Rara dance tunes and contemporary protest songs, conveys the listener to Haiti’s spiritual heart, a place that remains a compelling mystery for foreigners and a source of pride for every Haitian.

’Angelo lost his shit over it. Aaliyah’s 3rd favourite track of all time is on it. David Bowie rocked up with it to a TV interview, declaring it “the most exciting sound of contemporary soul music”.

In 1996, Lewis Taylor released his self-titled masterpiece. A true modern classic, it’s an album that was years ahead of its time. Forget 25 years ago, it could easily have been made in 2021. An effortless blend of neo-soul, sophisticated pop, smart grooves and laid-back white funk, it enjoyed rapturous reviews from critics and music legends alike. But the album never managed to make an impact and given what was likely a token vinyl release at the time, the original records have long since been near-impossible to find. Lewis Taylor’s Lewis Taylor remains a holy relic for some and criminally unknown to most.

Lewis Taylor’s impeccable influences created a dazzling sonic palette: the LP as a whole suggests the visionary brilliance of Prince; the vocal stylings evoke the yearning power of Marvin Gaye; the effortless guitar playing shares the virtuosity of Jimi Hendrix; the haunting tones conjure Tricky; the innovative production and engineering invite comparisons to studio mavericks like Todd Rundgren and Brian Eno; the multi-layered, complex harmonies flash on Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson; the dark, drama is reminiscent of both Scott Walker and Stevie Wonder; the complex arrangements create textures and moods with the feel of Shuggie Otis on Inspiration Information; the bold experimentation is akin to progressive artists like Faust and Tangerine Dream; the atmosphere is in conversation with Jeff Buckley’s Grace… and we could go on. That might all sound like marketing hyperbole, but not as far as Be With is concerned. It is a genuine wonder how an album this good could’ve passed so many people by.

But despite all the reference points, the similarities are really only skin-deep because the album sounds truly original. It occupies its own distinct, strange universe that feels dark and brooding one moment, bright and joyous the next. Ultimately, Taylor sounds like Taylor.

Although you wouldn’t know it from the credits, the album wasn’t the work of Lewis alone. Sabina Smyth gets an executive producer credit on the original sleeve, but in fact she worked with Lewis on the production and arrangements, did a lot of the backing vocals and she co-wrote Track, Song, Lucky and Damn with Lewis.

Lewis clarified all this in a Soul Jones interview with Dan Dodds in 2016. He explains how not giving Sabina the credit she was due at the time was an unfortunate consequence of where his head was at and he’s now trying to set the record straight.

Together they created an exquisite and sensually-charged record, with a freshness to the writing that makes the songs catchy, melodic-yet-deep and sometimes even funky. The music is predominantly guitar-led and a mixture of organs and synths, live drum loops and electronic percussion make for a sort of modern soul backing orchestra.

On the surface the album is gorgeously laidback, but beneath the lush, sometimes slick, production there’s a murkiness in the seriously gritty funk/hip-hop instrumentation. Lewis Taylor can be a claustrophobic listen. Even its one-word, often seemingly throw-away track titles add to the sense of unease. In its most positive moments, there’s still a sense that things aren’t quite right. The magic comes from this compelling tension.

The languid, strutting “Lucky” is a sensational opening statement. Sinuous electric guitar winds around the shaking percussion with a killer bass line rattling your bones, and Lewis’s voice is sublime. Its six-and-a-half unhurried minutes manage to distill the work of Marvin, Al Green and Bobby Womack because yes, it’s *that* good. Up next is the tough, dusty drum and jazzy, unsettling psych-guitar workout of “Bittersweet”. Aaliyah described it the “perfect song”, which says it all. By turns loping and soaring, tightly coiled and blasting free, 25 years on its discordant, swaggering majesty still sounds like future R&B.

The swinging, blue-eyed funk of “Whoever” oozes sophisticated sunshine soul for hazy days before “Track” sweeps in. The music tries to lift us up, beyond the reach of the vocals trying to drag us back down as Taylor sings “my mood is black as the darkest cloud”. The spare, dubby electro-soul of “Song” closes out the first half of the album with barely contained dread as it creeps towards the lush, synth-heavy coda.

The smouldering “Betterlove” eases us into the second half, coming on like a languorous response to the call of “Brown Sugar”, before sliding into the shuffling, softly-rocking “How”. Somehow the remarkable “Right” manages to both warm things up and smooth things out even more. Taut yet luxurious, it’s definitely not wrong.

“Damn” was to have been the album’s title track and you might also be able to hear its influence on D’Angelo’s Voodoo, maybe most obviously in the chaotic closing moments of “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”. Building to a screeching wall of noise that suddenly cuts dead, “Damn” sounds like the natural end to the album, with the celestial a cappella “Spirit” serving as a heavenly reprise.

When it came to the sleeve, art director Cally Callomon heard Taylor’s music as “sideways off-camera glances at a plethora of influences he had” and wanted to interpret that visually: “I went off into night-time London to see if I could find his song titles in off-beam low-fidelity photographs. I even found a shop called Lewis Taylor”. With a slide for each of the album’s ten tracks, nine of them are on the inner sleeve and the slide for “Damn” makes the front cover. It should’ve been the album’s title, but concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this.

One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, Andrew Lewis Taylor is an enigmatic figure and a hugely under-appreciated talent. A prodigious multi-instrumentalist who got his start touring with heavy blues/psych outfit the Edgar Broughton Band, he released two albums of psychedelic-rock as Sheriff Jack before Island signed him on the strength of a demo alone. But Taylor was destined to be one of those artists unable (or unwilling) to be pigeonholed and despite the best efforts of Island’s publicity department the music never sold in the quantities it needed to or deserved to. Island eventually let him go in the early 2000s and in June 2006, Lewis Taylor retired from music.

Typical for the mid-90s, this CD-length album was squeezed onto a single LP for its original vinyl release. Simon Francis’s fresh vinyl mastering now spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. The original artwork has been restored at Be With HQ and subtly re-worked to work as a double.

This sprawling psychedelic soul opus really is a forgotten should-be-classic. We know that there are those of you who know, and as for the rest of you, we’re a bit jealous that you’re getting to hear Lewis Taylor for the first time.

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

Available on CD and 180gram heavyweight gatefold LP.
Noura Mint Seymali hails from a Moorish musical dynasty in Mauritania, born into a prominent family of griot and choosing from an early age to embrace the artform that is its lifeblood. Yet traditional pedigree has proven but a stepping-stone for the work Noura and her band have embarked upon in recent years, simultaneously popularizing and reimagining Moorish music on the global stage, taking her family's legacy to new heights as arguably Mauritania's most widely exported musical act of all time.
Arbina is Noura Mint Seymali's second international release. Delving deeper into the wellspring of Moorish roots, as is after all the tried and true way of the griot, the album strengthens her core sound, applying a cohesive aesthetic approach to the reinterpretation of Moorish tradition in contemporary context. The band is heard here in full relief, soaring vocals and guitar at the forefront, the mesmerizing sparkle of the ardine, elemental bass lines and propulsive rhythms swirling together to conjure a 360 degree vibe. Arbina refines a sound that the band has gradually intensified over years of touring, aiming to posit a new genre from Mauritania, distinct unto itself, music of the "Azawan."

Supported by guitarist, husband and fellow griot, Jeiche Ould Chighaly, Seymali's tempestuous voice is answered with electrified counterpoint, his quarter-tone rich guitar phraseology flashing out lightning bolt ideas. Heir to the same music culture as Noura, Jeiche intimates the tidinit's (Moorish lute) leading role under the wedding khaima with the gusto of a rock guitar hero. Bassist Ousmane Touré, who has innovated a singular style of Moorish low-end groove over the course of many years, can be heard on this album with greater force and vigor than ever before. Drummer/producer Matthew Tinari drives the ensemble forward with the agility and precision need to make the beats cut.
Many of the songs on Arbina call out to the divine, asking for grace and protection. "Arbina" is a name for God. The album carries a message about reaching beyond oneself to an infinite spiritual source, while learning to take the finite human actions to necessary to affect reality on earth. The concept of sëbeu, or that which a human can do to take positive action on their destiny, is animated throughout.

Lyrically, the Moorish griot tradition is complex and associative. Poetry is held in a continuum between author and audience in which a singer may draw on disparate sources, selecting individual lines here or there for musicality to form a lyrical patchwork expressing larger ideas via association. A griot may relate her own thoughts and poetry, sing poetry written for and about her by a third party, and transmit lines from one party addressing another in the course of a single song. With this ever-fluid narrative voice, stories are told.

John R. Miller is a true hyphenate artist: singer-songwriter-picker.
Every song on his thrilling debut solo album, ‘Depreciated’, is lush with
intricate wordplay and haunting imagery, as well as being backed by a band
that is on fire.
One of his biggest long-time fans is roots music favourite Tyler Childers, who
says he’s “a well-travelled wordsmith mapping out the world he’s seen, three
chords at a time.” Miller is somehow able to transport us to a shadowy honkytonk and get existential all in the same line with his tightly written compositions. Miller’s own guitar-playing is on fine display here along with vocals that
evoke the white-waters of the Potomac River rumbling below the high ridges
of his native Shenandoah Valley.
‘Depreciated’ is a collection of eleven gems that take us to John R. Miller’s
home place even while exploring the way we can’t go home again, no matter
how much we might ache for it. On the album, Miller says he was eager to combine elements of country, blues, and rock to make his own sound. He wanted
‘Depreciated’ to conjure references to recently lost heroes like Prine, Walker,
and Shaver without sounding derivative.
Miller has certainly achieved his own sound here with an album that is almost
novelistic in its journey not only to the complicated relationship Miller has with
the Shenandoah Valley but also into the mind of someone going through transitions. “I wrote most of these songs after finding myself single and without a
band for the first time in a long while,” Miller says. “I stumbled to Nashville and
started to figure things out, so a lot of these have the feel of closing a chapter.”

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.

Clint Mansell and Clint Walsh’s reimagining of Lou
Reed’s 1973 album ‘Berlin’ as a tribute to
Mansell’s late partner Heather who passed away
in 2014. Now available on vinyl.
Pressed on neon pink vinyl and housed in a deluxe
spined sleeve with spot varnish polaroid image.
The record itself comes housed in a double sided
printed inner sleeve with digital download card
included.
Mansell is best known as the former lead singer of
Pop Will Eat Itself and as a composer for films
such as ‘Requiem for a Dream’ and ‘Black Swan’.
Walsh is a multi-instrumentalist and founding
member of Tweaker and is known for his work with
Courtney Love, Gnarls Barkley and many others.
Mansell and Walsh worked previously together on
the score for ‘Black Mirror’ episode ‘San Junipero’.
“The ‘Berlin’ they've made together isn't a copy in
style, however: instead, it conjures up the sounds
of jangly goth-pop, early ‘90s synth, and classic
singer-songwriter balladry.” - The Quietus

Peshekhod, the debut album from Dima Pantyushin and Sasha Lipsky, oscillates through an immaculate synth-pop ecosystem in which every shift feels both accurate in its absurdity and divinely danceable.

The album (“peshekhod” translates to “pedestrian”) investigates the inner narrative of a Muscovite as he wanders through the city, recalls his work, and contemplates his existence. It’s roughly autobiographical in scope— Pantyushin was born and raised in Moscow, co-runs Cafe Enthusiast in the city center, and is a visual artist by trade—yet explores feelings universal. His lyrics conjure the nostalgia and joy of parenthood in “Ray of Sunshine,” the paranoia of metropolitan life on “Pigeon,” and the slippage of time on “Chess.”

Fellow Moscow native and longtime friend, Sasha Lipsky, who writes and performs with his brother in Simple Symmetry, joins Pantyushin on production. Lipsky weaves entire sonic ecosystems for Dima’s instinctual observations and adroit lyrics. The result is a musical landscape that bounces between the terrestrial and the divine as Pantyushin’s croon and Lipsky’s synth-heavy compositions swell with aliveness.

Pantyushin and Lipsky graft genres to their electronic framework throughout Peshekhod. “Nature” summons 1950’s pastiche complete with upbeat mellotron, while “Time” and “House (With an Attic)” go from ethereal ambient to subterranean techno and back again. But every oscillation and shift feels part of the same system. Pantyushin never strays too far from his pedestrian protagonist. He knows the best stories are the ones in which we can see ourselves, while Lipsky dresses each observation with earworms you’ll struggle to shake, even if you don’t speak the language. Peshekhod is a picaresque in miniature. A record that considers the stations of the day in deft detail, for all to tap into.

Melbourne-via-Tasmanian four-piece Quivers first released
their 2018 debut We’ll Go Riding On The Hearses as hand-made
cassettes. The album dealt with singer Sam Nicholson’s loss
of his brother in a freediving accident, and “trying to not think
about that, and often coming back to ghosts, benders, water,
and pissing in the snow.” When demand for the album grew,
it received a vinyl release and led Quivers to tour the US, film
a KEXP session, and be selected by NPR Music for both the
Austin 100 SXSW preview and as a “Slingshot” artist to watch.
Their life-damaged but hopeful jangle pop has only sharpened
since then, and while 2021 follow-up Golden Doubt conjures
up REM or The Clean, there is a lyrical directness that sets this
record apart as always its own.
Golden Doubt is carried by shimmering guitars and the
harmonizing vocals of members Holly Thomas and Bella
Quinlan. Elevated by the production of Matthew Redlich
(Holy Holy, Husky, Ainslie Wills), the record explores what
comes after grief, and how one throws oneself back into love. As
Nicholson explains, the album tries to bottle “the rush of feelings
and fears when you give in to falling for someone. It’s also an
album in love with other albums, and the other bands around
us.” Before each take at Woodstock and The Aviary studios in
Melbourne, Australia, the band would imagine a scene together
(a waterhole for “Laughing Waters”, an overgrown carpark for
“Videostores”) and then dive in to capture live group takes.
Quivers need to get words on the page and sounds out to keep
moving on. Both Nicholson and Thomas lost their brothers in the
same year, and through that shared vulnerability they all have
together that runs deep. Golden Doubt is also a love letter to
playing music as a band and processing it all together rather than
just carrying it as a weight. The cancellation of a 21-date US
tour they had slated for 2020 has left them undeterred; Quivers
plans to continue being a band and get back out into the world
as soon as it’s possible.

Marcus Schmickler's music is designed for multi-channel sound projections and references German electronic music tradition, spectral music, experimentalism as well as 1990s club music. His artistic practice explores avant-garde trajectories in electronic music composition, formal systems, sonification and psychoacoustics. EMEGO 296 features two new major works from this audacious sound explorer.

Sky Dice / Mapping the Studio premiered at Donaueschinger Tage fur Neue Musik 10.20.2018 having being commissioned by SWR and realized at the Experimentalstudio (EXP) in Freiburg. This is a work for ARP 2500, Publison DHM89B, Publison Infernal Machine and Computer. Taking cues from Bruce Nauman's Mapping the Studio I (Fat Chance John Cage) (2001) the piece draws a fragmented acoustic map of the SWR facility itself; the studio serves as a source-model for the sonic display of historical signal flow graphs. Various acoustic and psychoacoustic effects come into play including the Larsen effect, as well as Style Transfer and Topological Sonification. The result is a daring and dizzying display of disorientating audio. Sound moves in most unusual ways, rising and falling simultaneously, appearing and disappearing like apparitions, nothing here behaves in expected ways. To paraphrase Albert Einstein's now famous quote regarding quantum mechanics, this is spooky audio at a distance.

Fortuna Ribbon is a selection of sonic material that emerged from a research based on how DPOAEs (Distortion Product Otoacoustic Emission) can be designed in the context of musical frameworks, augmenting the compositional pallets in regard to spatial hearing. In this manifestation, the materials are presented without context. The resulting emissions from the ear that are excited in varying ways from the 6 examples on display here. Playback in undisturbed acoustic environments is recommended at >82 dB/A.

Schmickler's ongoing investigation of sound matter conjures impossible audio that delight's in the extremity of form and resulting effects on the listener. Schmickler's audio invocations explore the capabilities of contemporary technology resulting in dizzying new worlds of sound.

Thanks to the Experimentalstudio crew, Detlef Heusinger, Björn Gottstein, Julian Rohrhuber and Peter Rehberg.

“In some respects, Trust is a simultaneous documentation of progression and regression. A homecoming of sorts, influenced by the interim where we developed our skills as producers and our skills as artists. Armlock, as a vehicle, seems like returning full circle to where we started.”

Trust, out June 2, 2021, is the debut release of Australian duo, Armlock. It’s a nuanced record that explores trials felt in personal growth, from resentment to submission to complacency. A quiet, thrashing gem of songcraft, the record makes as much use of the intimate, empty space as it does of its layered, heavy instrumentals. Each one of these songs conjures a summer storm of internal conflict, with the angst and uncertainty that comes with realizing that you’re finished growing, and rather than feeling a sense of ease you’re left restless and discontented.

Multi-instrumentalists Simon Lam and Hamish Mitchell met studying jazz together at Monash University in Melbourne. While rehearsing standards for a small ensemble in 2010, the two discovered their mutual hatred of the genre, opting to explore experimental, song-based electronic music. Alongside Solitaire Recordings owner, Dan Rutman, they went on to form the group I’lls, releasing four records in five years, and, later, the two went on to form Couture. Simultaneously, Lam (along with his cousin Chloe Kaul) found success with the synthpop group Kllo, amassing over 100 million streams on Spotify and critical acclaim from Pitchfork, The Guardian, GQ, NME, NYLON, and Stereogum. Lam’s solo project Nearly Oratorio (also on Solitaire Recordings) has achieved acclaim in its own right, as has Mitchell’s work as a producer and designer for artists like Jack Grace.

With their first release as Armlock, the duo maintains the depths of I’lls’ electronic soundscapes but brings the warmth of analogue instruments with Lam’s clear, disillusioned singing up front. He sounds both heartfelt and dejected in equal measure, with a dispassionate coolness that synergizes with the vulnerability of his lyrics. Live, the duo are backed by a reel-to-reel tape, with Mitchell on guitar and Lam singing, bridging their electronic past and indie present.

Australian artist Indigo Sparke Brings her deeply personal lived experiences to her music, highlighting the spaces between the polarity of softness and grit. Pulling from her experiences of addiction, of healing, of queerness, of heartbreak, of joy, of connection, of the softness and of the grit alchemizing it all into tenderness through her music, she conjures up a myriad of feelings that is undeniably potent. It was in 2019 that Indigo lived and travelled across America, in places like NYC, Minneapolis, Topanga, Taos, in many hotel rooms and amidst the vast stretching landscapes on the never ending highways, channelling her creative energy into the completion of her debut album, echo. echo was recorded between LA, Italy and New York, co-produced by Sparke, Adrianne Lenker (of Big Thief), and Andrew Sarlo (producer of Big Thief, Nick Hakim, Bon Iver, Hand Habits, etc). The record was completed at Figure 8 Studio in New York City, studio of musician Shahzad Ismaily. Phil Weinrobe (producer/engineer for Leonard Cohen, Damien Rice, Adrianne Lenker, Buck Meek, etc) engineered and mixed the album. "Indigo's writing and voice are ethereal and angelic and guide me through internal canyons and plains. I'm deeply grateful to have been part of this and to have gotten to play and sing along side Indigo, and to have been able to eternalize a very special space and time with her, which I will always cherish." -Adrianne Lenker "With these songs and her filament voice, Indigo brings us in to a private place and lights a fire there." -Feist

Australian artist Indigo Sparke has signed to Sacred Bones and announced a new release date for her debut album, echo, now due May 21st. To celebrate, she has shared a video for the album's latest single "Everything Everything."

Of the song, Sparke says "I wrote this song not long after coming back from a magical castle in Italy where a group of us had been making music and soaking in the golden honey days. I met a beautiful human Shahzad Ismaily who had discovered I also write poetry. One night around midnight he called across the castle and asked me to come over and speak some of my poetry over an instrumental track he had recorded. The only thing he asked me to do was to sing a line or so if I felt it. That song was dog bark echo. He invited me back to NYC and I was living in his empty spare room in Brooklyn briefly. I borrowed this little parlour guitar of his and completely fell in love. I just sat in that room for hours and days playing around and just laying next to the guitar looking at the ceiling thinking about life and death and the poetry of it all. How life and death will hold us up to light. How grief ripens inside us

all and we all decay and everything changes and flies away. I remember feeling this liberating sense of freedom and melancholic nostalgia. It was so hot and the wind almost blew through from a different dimension or plane. I guess the song came through from that place too. It just came out. I can almost still feel that time on my skin, or in my breath."

Indigo Sparke brings her deeply personal lived experiences to her music, highlighting the spaces between the polarity of softness and grit. Pulling from her experiences of addiction, of healing, of queerness, of heartbreak, of joy, of connection, of the softness and of the grit alchemizing it all into tenderness through her music, she conjures up a myriad of feelings that is undeniably potent.

echo was co-produced by Sparke, Big Thief's Adrianne Lenker and Andrew Sarlo.