Buscar:crash id

Jade Hairpins waste no time fulfilling their second album's titular demand. From its harmony-drenched opening note to its baroque-anthemic conclusion, Get Me the Good Stuff is positively loaded with musical ideas, an absurdist buffet of sound and aesthetic that comes with one hell of a floorshow as the Hairpins stack those ideas higher and higher, almost daring them to crash to the floor. Instead, those elements - punksploitation, power pop, baggy, funk, and Italo disco are just some touchstones - are not only held aloft, they defy gravity and convention. These pyrotechnics are, in true Jade Hairpins fashion, something of a sleight of hand. While the music swaggers and gallops, Get Me the Good Stuff grapples with anxiety and self-doubt, obfuscating pain and alienation with sparkling wit and some straight-up ravers. Get Me the Good Stuff opens with one of those, "Let It Be Me," in which Jonah Falco shouts lyrics about being alone with one's shortcomings against guitars, synths, and harmonized vocals that are on the verge of closing in. The song is just over 90 seconds long, hitting with the gnarled-barb ferocity of punk and the gleeful insanity of theatrical art rock. It is, in other words, overwhelming. Or it would be if Jade Hairpins - Jonah Falco and Mike Haliechuk - weren't remarkably nimble in their ability to bring unity to sounds by placing them in competition against each other. When those sounds are adjacent, like the glam and disco that saturate "Drifting Superstition," the thrill of those universes colliding in the heat of an absolutely filthy clavichord line turns its lyrics, about the habit of solving personal problems by ignoring them, into a winner's anthem on the order of Bowie or Hot Chocolate. Get Me the Good Stuff arcs towards unequivocal joy as Falco, Jade Hairpins' primary lyricist, breaks these cycles and attempts to run away with his dreams. The arc is roughly analogous to how the album came to fruition. Four years removed from Harmony Avenue, an album of material that proved too strong to be contained within the narrative universe of Fucked Up's Dose Your Dreams, Jade Hairpins have gelled as a live act - with Tamsin M. Leach and Jack Goldstein centering them on stage - and planted their flag in the UK punk scene in which Falco has embedded himself. Working out new material live, Falco noticed that crowds were digging into his unfinished lyrics, and the album tightened around the anxieties of being in the spotlight, of being worthy of attention. At times, those songs are eager to please, like the album's title track in which a winking self-deprecation rubs up against the self-congratulatory bombast of Freddie Mercury, Falco simultaneously turning heads as a shooting star and a burning car. Elsewhere, as in "Better Here Than in Love," Jade Hairpins pitch themselves towards creating gorgeous soundscapes that exist nowhere else, channeling postpunk through the glimmering haze of '80s Japanese electronic music. Theatrical and personal, absurd and true-to-life, playful and serious, Get Me the Good Stuff is album of tremendous personal and artistic growth that signposts towards dozens of potential futures to come. It's not only worth the attention, it continuously rewards it.

Jade Hairpins waste no time fulfilling their second album's titular demand. From its harmony-drenched opening note to its baroque-anthemic conclusion, Get Me the Good Stuff is positively loaded with musical ideas, an absurdist buffet of sound and aesthetic that comes with one hell of a floorshow as the Hairpins stack those ideas higher and higher, almost daring them to crash to the floor. Instead, those elements_punksploitation, power pop, baggy, funk, and Italo disco are just some touchstones_are not only held aloft, they defy gravity and convention. These pyrotechnics are, in true Jade Hairpins fashion, something of a sleight of hand. While the music swaggers and gallops, Get Me the Good Stuff grapples with anxiety and self-doubt, obfuscating pain and alienation with sparkling wit and some straight-up ravers. Get Me the Good Stuff opens with one of those, "Let It Be Me," in which Jonah Falco shouts lyrics about being alone with one's shortcomings against guitars, synths, and harmonized vocals that are on the verge of closing in. The song is just over 90 seconds long, hitting with the gnarled-barb ferocity of punk and the gleeful insanity of theatrical art rock. It is, in other words, overwhelming. Or it would be if Jade Hairpins_Jonah Falco and Mike Haliechuk_weren't remarkably nimble in their ability to bring unity to sounds by placing them in competition against each other. When those sounds are adjacent, like the glam and disco that saturate "Drifting Superstition," the thrill of those universes colliding in the heat of an absolutely filthy clavichord line turns its lyrics, about the habit of solving personal problems by ignoring them, into a winner's anthem on the order of Bowie or Hot Chocolate. Get Me the Good Stuff arcs towards unequivocal joy as Falco, Jade Hairpins' primary lyricist, breaks these cycles and attempts to run away with his dreams. The arc is roughly analogous to how the album came to fruition. Four years removed from Harmony Avenue, an album of material that proved too strong to be contained within the narrative universe of Fucked Up's Dose Your Dreams, Jade Hairpins have gelled as a live act_with Tamsin M. Leach and Jack Goldstein centering them on stage_and planted their flag in the UK punk scene in which Falco has embedded himself. Working out new material live, Falco noticed that crowds were digging into his unfinished lyrics, and the album tightened around the anxieties of being in the spotlight, of being worthy of attention. At times, those songs are eager to please, like the album's title track in which a winking self-deprecation rubs up against the self-congratulatory bombast of Freddie Mercury, Falco simultaneously turning heads as a shooting star and a burning car. Elsewhere, as in "Better Here Than in Love," Jade Hairpins pitch themselves towards creating gorgeous soundscapes that exist nowhere else, channeling postpunk through the glimmering haze of '80s Japanese electronic music. Theatrical and personal, absurd and true-to-life, playful and serious, Get Me the Good Stuff is album of tremendous personal and artistic growth that signposts towards dozens of potential futures to come. It's not only worth the attention, it continuously rewards it.

Steve Moore returns to the library music fold and it's a total doozy: Cursed Objects is truly sensational prog-synth-wave. Featuring epic electronic explorations with chamber music and symphonic flourishes, it's our favourite thing Steve has ever done. In keeping with the horror heat of the music contained within, this vinyl release is frighteningly limited, with just 500 pressed for the world.

New York-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/film composer Steve Moore is probably best known for his synthesizer and bass guitar work as Zombi, together with Anthony Paterra. But he is also part of Miracle and Titan as well as being a prolific solo artist releasing music as Gianni Rossi, Lovelock and under his own name. Steve’s music has found a home across hallowed labels like Future Times, Mexican Summer, LIES, Static Caravan, Kompakt, Death Waltz, Ghost Box and, of course, Be With Records.

Steve released Cursed Objects for fresh library label Fold. Run by ex-KPM head Paul Sandell, it's a library with values we can all get behind. It's the first production music platform working exclusively with independent labels, publishers and artists to create a truly authentic artist-led sound, at production music rates. Here's what Steve had to say: "I had worked with Paul before, at KPM. After he left, he mentioned that he had started a new library - Fold - and I was very interested in being a part. And I happened to be working on a bunch of music at the time that I thought could fit." So here we are!

The LP opens by letting in "The Uninvited One". Calm and relaxed arpeggiated synths build around sweeping strings and plucked harp to create a mystical and hopeful feel. The title track sees dark synths merge and swell with a piano, string and harp melody that is dark, mysterious and brooding. "Evolutionary Steps" is an electro synthwave track that builds with epic strings and beats, offering an expansive and dreamy approach with a mystical and driving rhythm. Next up, "The Icarus Feather" is daring, pulsing and cinematic synthwave that builds with arpeggiated synths to a hopeful end. "Daily Affirmations" offers calm and meditative ambient synths with plucked harp and strings for a reflective, peaceful, daydreamy feel.

“Mesmer's Bauble” ushers in side two, its dark synth backing builds with plucked harp and strings building with a sense of unknown and dread; it's introspective and heartfelt. "Quiet Springs" is all mystical synths, harps and strings, building to an epic panoramic scope with a hopeful and poignant atmosphere. "Festival Of Samhain" presents a dark and brooding piano melody which builds with synths and strings to create a slow and desolate feel. "The Icarus Feather (Revisited)" is epic building synthwave with arpeggiated synths and strings and a driving rhythm - the beat builds with the strings entering a forceful and marching mood. To close, "Shard Of Medusa" rides a serious and dark piano melody and, in concert with harp and strings, it creates a suspenseful and solemn atmosphere.

Steve recorded Cursed Objects, as always, at his home studio in Albany, NY. For synths, he mostly used his trusty Prophet 6, as well as his Moog Minitaur and lots of Korg Polysix too. But he also utilised a lot of virtual instruments - he doesn't have the budget for a full string section, or a harpist, alas.

The album’s cover was designed by Chris Stevenson. The artwork is a nod to first wave cyberpunk and in particular Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash and the idea of mind viruses and cursed data. Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis, and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at AIR Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. Far from being cursed, this is another future classic library LP.

Placid aka Paul Wise is chief in command at ‘We’re Going Deep’ – an expanding online community and record label, born from lifelong affair with the many shades of electronic rhythm and obsession for collecting records since 1988. He’s spent the last 3 decades moving heads and feet at venues, parties and fields across the UK and beyond.
On a mission to share and release new music via his label, you’ll find only the best in Acid, Electro, IDM, Techno and Deep House for the dance floor, front room or your headphones making the cut. For the 10th and final edition of his much prized various artist series, he unearths more machine fuelled magic: offering another set of equally excellent music from stellar talent.
Starting the dance, Dutch maestro Boris Bunnik dons his Versalife mantle to opens with ‘Skirmish 101’. Setting the machines to cycle, Bunnik fires a hefty slab of bass to bring down the walls whilst pristine robot like rhythms set your body in motion, all enveloped with sparse synthesis and shimmering effects. Crashing the joint with ‘Acid Baby’ - The Acid Pimp drops a no holds barred, riotous 303 workout that’s nothing short of a tour de force in exorcising the power of Roland’s most celebrated silver box. Putting pedal to the metal with drums and reverb, a smiley face or grimace is guaranteed!
Longtime collaborators Jamie Anderson & Owain K reset the dial on the flip with ‘Basement Dub’, a house paced workout that glides at a steady pace. Evoking the spirit of Mood II Swing whilst immersed in the depths of an underwater realm. Ending on the upbeat note of Konerytmi’s ‘Aamunkoitto’, the Finnish producer reflects a breezy disposition with a joyful melody, step-to electro beat and rolling acid bassline – all perfectly balanced to keep your calm and head out in the right direction, a great way to sign off on this highly collectable series.

Limitiertes Farbvinyl von Teil #4 der "Here, Hear" Serie von einer der renommiertesten und ältesten Emo-Post-Rock-Bands der Szene, La Dispute. Die 2007 ins Leben gerufene Serie gibt interessierten Hörern Einblicke hinter dem Vorhang des Songwritings, um durch zusätzlichen musikalischen und lyrischen Kontext das Verständnis für Themen und Ideen der Alben zu vertiefen.

Die aktuelle Version des Projekts ändert im Laufe seiner Geschichte regelmäßig Formen, Ansätze und Medien und besteht aus Aufforderungen zum kreativen Schreiben, die von einem einzelnen Mitglied eingeführt und befolgt werden, bevor sie nacheinander an die anderen weitergegeben werden, um in einer Art musikalischem Telefonspiel Beiträge zu leisten. Das Endergebnis sind Songs, die Schicht für Schicht, Mitglied für Mitglied, geschrieben und aufgenommen wurden, rund um einen zentralen Vorschlag oder eine zentrale Einschränkung, die ausführlich auf Patreon und in aufgezeichneten Podcast-Gesprächen diskutiert werden, in denen die Erfahrung analysiert wird.

Experience the sonic journey that is The Black Dog's latest album, "Other, Like Me," as they delve into the intricacies of the artist's psyche, questioning the very essence of individuality and creative worth. The album invites listeners to confront darker thoughts about self-identity, imposter syndrome, and the relentless pursuit of creative value, all while celebrating the joy found in the act of artistic creation. In this introspective exploration, The Black Dog challenge both themselves and their audience, creating a musical experience that is profoundly personal and open to interpretation. The themes woven throughout the album are a poignant counterpoint between the shadows of self-doubt and the exuberance of creative expression. It's an inward exploration, offering a place of solace for listeners to find comfort amid the chaos of external influences. The album's title, "Other, Like Me", draws inspiration from an interview with Cosey Fanni Tutti in 1999, resonating deeply with The Black Dog's outsider perspective. The phrase encapsulates the essence of the album, reflecting the band's unique identity and shared experiences, while respecting each member's individual passions and interests. Navigating the waters of cognitive dissonance, The Black Dog bring an authenticity to their music that mirrors the internal and external conflicts of the contemporary music scene. With a commitment to stripping back layers and allowing the heart of each song to shine through, "Other, Like Me" offers a raw and unfiltered musical experience that speaks directly to the soul. It's an invitation to introspection, a celebration of independence, and a testament to the power of authentic artistic expression.

The opening line of Emily Dickinson’s short poem ‘‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers’ inspired the central image of Emily Barker’s new single ‘Feathered Thing’, written while she navigated cumulative grief.

When Barker was first introduced to producer Luke Potashnick (Gabrielle Aplin, Jack Savoretti, Katie Melua) in May 2022, she brought with her a full album’s worth of songs. But after visiting Potashnick’s storied studio, The Wool Hall and hearing his ambitious production ideas, she was inspired to write one more song.

“I also needed to process some heavy news” she comments. Barker and her husband Lukas Drinkwater had been trying to start a family. Following a couple of failed IVF cycles (and other “starts that we’d lost”), they investigated adoption and had decided to relocate to Australia to be closer to Barker’s family.

“It felt like we couldn’t work out what we wanted, but we finally reached a point where we both felt at peace with not having kids,” Barker recalls. “It had been an incredibly intense time, coinciding with a house move and the pandemic.”

And then Barker found she was pregnant. “We’d done all these things to try to make it happen, and then it happened naturally (and against all biological odds). Having previously navigated losses throughout our pregnancy journey, we now had to get our heads around what having this new person in our lives might look like - emotionally and practically.”

Soon after work began on the album, Barker had a miscarriage.

“Songwriting has always been a way of processing throughout my life.” Barker reveals how the new song came quickly as she sat at her piano at home. She shared an early version with Potashnick and remembers him politely asking, “Do you mind telling me what this is about?”

“I think I’d left it too abstract, initially,” she reflects. “It was difficult to open up about the miscarriage, but Luke was very supportive and encouraged me to dig a little deeper without necessarily being specific. I revisited the lyrics, and the result is much stronger.”

“I went to the burnt-out woods/ A tourist with some damaged goods/ Remembered how the trees withstood fires before…”

“The opening line is a metaphor for knowing that I’ll get through this,” Barker clarifies. “It’s about recovery and hope, allowing yourself both the space to grieve and permission to move on”. But Barker’s optimism is never misplaced – she knows the imprint of imagined futures and lost children are carried in hearts and minds forever:

“It’s so hard to let go, wanted to know wanted to know you …”

“I think that it's important to share and normalise these stories, which are all too common, yet not openly spoken about. People hide their pain and don’t want to burden friends and family. I think behind all this anguish, there’s a deep, often untold story.”

Now that Barker is settled back in Western Australia, she’s embracing being an auntie. “I’ve got three younger siblings over here who I’m close to, and they all have kids,” she enthuses. “I look after my brother's kids, aged two and five, one morning a week.”

Recorded - along with the entirety of the new album - at The Wool Hall, ‘Feathered Thing’ begins gently, with oscillating piano and distant drums, until the arrangement gradually transforms into an instrumental dervish of vibrant strings, bass drones and cymbal crashes. Throughout, Barker’s vocals float tantalisingly like a slipstreaming feather.

Watch the video, filmed at The Wool Hall here. The Wool Hall is a studio in Beckington, Somerset, set up by Tears for Fears in the 1980s and used by artists including The Smiths, Pretenders, Joni Mitchell and many more.

Emily Barker is an award-winning singer-songwriter, best known as the writer and performer of the theme to the hugely successful BBC crime drama ‘Wallander’ starring Kenneth Branagh.

Her last album, 2020's ‘A Dark Murmuration of Words’, was produced by Greg Freeman and recorded at StudiOwz, a converted chapel in the Welsh countryside. Lyrically probing, by turns both dark and optimistic, Barker searches for meaning through the deafening clamour of fake news and algorithmically filtered conversation, delivering a timely exploration of the grand themes of our age. It garnered widespread acclaim, with Uncut calling it “…a kind of Australian equivalent of PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake”.

Barker has released music and toured as a solo artist as well as with various bands and collaborations, most notably her long association with Frank Turner, and has written for TV and film, including composing the soundtrack for Jake Gavin’s lauded debut feature ‘Hector’ starring Peter Mullan and Keith Allen.

‘Fragile as Humans’ is scheduled for release on May 3rd 2024 through Everyone Sang/Kartel Music Group. The album will also feature earlier singles: the vast, cinematic ‘Wild to be Sharing This Moment’ and the meditative, crestfallen ‘Loneliness’.

Speed Dealer Moms, the combustible live electronics duo comprising John Frusciante (Red Hot Chili Peppers) and Aaron Funk (Venetian Snares) is over a decade into their idiosyncratic run. On "Birth Control Pill," the duo's third release, the parameters of the chaotic and elegant project come into focus.

If there are virtuosos patching modular synthesizers and slicing up breakbeats, then they were in the room when these two tracks were recorded. The epic title cut is perhaps the most "functional" track the duo has ever recorded. This is ruffneck dnb business, but it's also the Speed Dealer Moms, so there is the requisite descent into chaos. The track's precise melodies are unceremoniously dunked into Funk's signature, ripping breakcore, the drums picking up speed until the crash test dummies hit the wall—a thrilling, extratone breakdown.

More madness lurks on the B-side, "Benakis," which seemingly nods to the visionary Greek composer. With its unconventional time signature and intricate melodies, this song cycles through breakcore and hard techno before eventually giving the listener a reprieve with a dreamy, beatless outro.

Speed Dealer Moms drive their own, crooked road built on friendship and a telepathic musical connection—the collaboration and encouragement of Funk ushered Frusciante into the dense world of hardcore machine funk. The results of these sessions don't sound quite like anything else, they are electronic records made in fearless pursuit of the new. Funk and Frusciante follow ideas to an illogical endpoint, and this hurtling approach has now resulted in the best and most concise Speed Dealer Moms record yet.

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

Laced Records, id Software and Bethesda proudly present the music of seminal 1997 first-person shooter Quake II on vinyl.

19 specially remastered tracks by Sonic Mayhem and Jer Sypult will be pressed onto heavyweight discs. Sleeve artwork is by id Software, with Jason Williford providing character illustrations.

The bulk of the soundtrack was created by Sascha Dikiciyan aka Sonic Mayhem — his first game project among an enviably long credits list. Having caught id Software’s ear with an unofficial Quake album (alongside production partner Dave Valencia), Sonic Mayhem and id Software went on to develop Quake II’s trademark aggro-industrial metal sound, inspired in part by Metallica. The killer riffs, repeated for effect, urge players forward through the Strogg city and beyond, a trail of gibs in their wake. Jer Sypult’s “Climb” complements the selection with its driving industrial groove.

French producer Panthera steps up to Melodize with a pair of Italo inspired cuts that come remixed by the legendary Lauer and Endrik Schroeder.

Panthera prefers to remain secretive about his identity, but his music has plenty of people talking. It has come out on labels such as Bordello A Parigi, Polaris and Correspondant so far and contains a distinct, synth-heavy, euphoric sound.

This is evident from the beginning with ‘Hustle’, a colourful and cosmic cut with rich melodies, occasional vocal touches and shimmering arps. They bring sugary rushes of joy to the mid-tempo nu-disco drums and will douse dance floors in subtle euphoria. Remixing this one is the underground stalwart Lauer, who always brings his retro style to his disco and house on labels such as Permanent Vacation and Running Back. His version is faster and more direct, though still packed with starry melodies and subtle synth motifs that bring it to life.

Panthera’s ‘Western Union’ then brings more raw percussion and slapping drums but again takes flight through the cosmos on sleek synth lines with hints of 80s nostalgia. It’s a track that is always on the rise and full of bright, irresistible melodic suspense. Remixer Endrik Schroeder also hails from France and is a fast-rising talent with credits on the taste-making Bordello A Parigi, Ritmo Fatale, and Roam Recordings. He flips the original into a more propulsive and urgent nu-disco weapon with crashing drums and synth loops spiralling around the track as extra melodies fall like stardust to light up the groove.

There is real quality as well as plenty of feel-good energy to these four shiny, synth-heavy tracks.

Le jazz homme is the 2nd album of Black To Comm related entity Mouchoir Ètanche. This time heavily influenced by French Jazz (?) as well as the usual suspects: Nurse With Wound, Luc Ferrari, JG Ballard, Surrealism. The human entity has finally been replaced.

"Program music, instrumental music that carries some extramusical meaning, some “program” of literary idea, legend, scenic description, or personal drama. It is contrasted with so-called absolute, or abstract, music, in which artistic interest is supposedly confined to abstract constructions in sound. It has been stated that the concept of program music does not represent a genre in itself but rather is present in varying degrees in different works of music." (Encyclopædia Britannica)

Prompt 1: Pascal Comelade's toy piano falling down the stairs , Hector Zazou pushing from behind, laughing

Prompt 2: Cool jazz played on antique mellotron, low in fidelity, and sad, Glenn Miller‘s grandma crying silently

Prompt 3: A hippie commune version of jazz as played by a cheap computer fed by Chat GPT with medieval buisine fanfare information and samples, trained on the entire Amon Düül II history, heavily looped yet unsynchronized

Prompt: 4: Same, but flutes and synths and trance and chants

Prompt 5: French female artist philosophizes about Shirley Temple, mysterious atmosphere, insensitive homme laughing nervously, heavily looped, hynotic 18th century orgue de salon underneath

Prompt 6: Cool jazz, Echoplex, strange rhythm, Blue Note daydreaming

Prompt 7: Hammond jazz with fake Cyro Baptista loop, Madagascar indri indri lemurs chanting fake sax solos in Malagasy language, electronic bells

Prompt 8: German jazz and artificial prayers, and Shirley Temple returning, with defect Publison recorded at GRM, destroying the voice recording

Prompt 9: Andrei Tarkovsky's moustache meets Johann Sebastian Bach's wig, a well gently lapping in the background, fifths, car crashing into a poor violent onsen geisha

Marc Richter records as Black To Comm for Thrill Jockey and under the Mouchoir Ètanche and Jemh Circs monikers (and solo) for his own Cellule 75 imprint. He collaborated with visual artists such as Ho Tzu Nyen, Jan van Hasselt and Mike Kelley. He also produces soundtracks and acousmatic multichannel installations for institutions such as INA GRM Paris, ZKM Karlsruhe and Kunstverein Hamburg.

Miles Davis' A Tribute to Jack Johnson is the best jazz-rock record ever made. Equally inspired by the leader's desire to assemble the "greatest rock and roll band you have ever heard,” his adoration of Johnson, and Black Power politics, Davis created a hard-hitting set that surges with excitement, intensity, majesty, and power. Bridging the electric fusion he'd pursued on earlier efforts with a funkier, dirtier rhythmic approach, Davis zeroes in on concepts of spontaneity, freedom, and identity seldom achieved in the studio — and just as infrequently accepted by the mainstream.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity's 180g LP reissue brings it all to fore with startling realism. Benefitting from SuperVinyl’s nearly inaudible noise floor, superb groove definition, and clean, ultra-quiet surfaces, this 180g LP showcases everything — from the bold tonality of the headliner's white-hot trumpet solos to the decay of crashing cymbals, carry of wiry guitar notes, and echoes of the studio — in reference fashion.

Bristling with exuberance, Davis' high-register passages explode with authority and commanding presence. Around him, a barrage of urgent backbeats, knifing riffs, and supple bass lines emerge amidst black backgrounds. One of the most prominent differences long-time fans will notice is how much more aggressive, immediate, and vibrant the music sounds, with those aspects central to the composer's original desires.

Utilizing wah-wah and distortion, the go-to instrumentalist of the performances— guitarist John McLaughlin — attacks with a nasty edge, slashing style, and vicious streak that allows A Tribute to Jack Johnson< cross the until-then-impenetrable divide between rock and jazz. Davis puts both feet in the former camp and erases any gap. The stories of the record’s creation are nearly as legendary as the sounds within: Two sessions, multiple jams, different sets of musicians (several uncredited), and near-miraculous production perfectionism that made it all appear cohesive.

The least-well-known masterpiece of Davis' career, the 1971 record — seamlessly assembled and spliced together by producer Teo Macero — was a victim of limited record-label promotion. Audiences also didn’t immediately know what to make of its original cover art — faithfully replicated here. In addition, the powers that be at Columbia Records were directing the public’s attention to Miles at Fillmore, a completely different kind of album guided by two keyboardists. A Tribute to Jack Johnson practically lives in a different universe, one from the future. To many listeners who did manage to hear it — among them critic/musician Robert Quine, Stooges leader Iggy Pop, and renowned critic Robert Christgau — it surpassed everything that came before.

Indeed, Davis treated it as a personal manifesto: An opportunity to salute the Black championship boxer admired for his threatening image to the establishment and impeccable taste in clothes, cars, women and music. Davis explains in the liner notes his affinity for Johnson — a stance mirrored by the defiant music, which hits with a prize fighter's force and reflects the graceful elegance with which a pugilist navigates the ring — and closes the album with a Johnson quote read by Brock Peters.

Inspired not only by Johnson but by Jimi Hendrix and Sly Stone, Davis changed his approach and his band. He surrounds himself with a cadre of musicians in their 20s and, in the case of bassist Michael Henderson, a 19-year-old fresh from touring with Stevie Wonder. Henderson gives Davis what he requested: boogie-based grooves that don’t lose shape or direction. Soprano saxophonist Steve Grossman, drummer Billy Cobham, and organist Herbie Hancock adhere to a similar aesthetic that prizes brazenness, innovation, and energy.

In that vein, during a portion of “Yesternow,” Davis segues into a separate performance (which became known in its entirety as “Willie Nelson”) played by guitarists McLaughlin and Sonny Sharrock, bass clarinetist Bernie Maupin, keyboardist Chick Corea, bassist Dave Holland, and drummer Jack DeJohnette. Dig it!

Talking with jazz scholar Bill Milkowski — who himself noted how McLaughlin’s unrestrained style, decibel-forward volumes, and rapid-fire power chords engendered himself to the rock crowd at the same time that his harmonics and syncopation still definitely made him a jazz player — guitarist Henry Kaiser summed up part of the appeal of A Tribute to Jack Johnson as well as anyone, saying: “It’s a jazz record that way way more open than other jazz records at the time, but still not free jazz. McLaughlin’s rhythm guitar playing on ‘Right Off’ — the use of different chords in a rock shuffle than what anybody had used before — was revolutionary.”

And to think that’s just one aspect of a record that contains multitudes. “Never let them forget it.” Indeed.

Hot wiring dancefloors with their immersive orchestration of uplifting sonic waves, Soft Crash sets out to soundtrack the unified, euphoric heartbeat of the crowds they foster with their mechanical yet fantastical, Italo Body Music. Presenting their highly anticipated EP ‘NRG’, the Berlin-based collaborative project of Berghain resident and BITE label head Hayden Payne (aka Phase Fatale) and French prolific producer Pablo Bozzi works to forge Soft Crash’s unique vocabulary of post-humanist production with the harmonic grandeur of their rhythmic, machine-made anthems.

Fresh off the back of their 2022 debut album ‘Your Last Everything’, Soft Crash present their latest 4 track EP ‘NRG’, chronicling their synonymous surrealist visuals infused with the contagious punch of Italo and Synth-wave. Geared towards the dancefloor from a fresh perspective, Bozzi and Payne pull from their respective wheelhouses to curate a sound additionally influenced by Wave-Pop, Acid House and Post-Punk sensibilities.

Procuring their cerebral yet zealous indentation of dance music, the EP features sanguine vocals from Kyiv-based singer and musician Ready in LED on the first single ‘Free Yourself’. She comments about the track “I became captivated instantly with the idea of the track that Hayden and Pablo sent me. At that moment, I was a bit tired of carefree disco and wanted to reveal my dark side in music. The demo sounded very daring. This track demands attention to itself from the first seconds. My sources of inspiration were glam rock and grunge. I had a blast in the studio, and I hope the people on the dance floors will feel that energy too.”

While full throttle vitality and booming grooves on the title track ‘NRG’ showcase Soft Crash’s take on 90’s sample-filled techno. Closing the extended play with an updated cut of the bewitching ‘Your Last Everything’, featuring Canadian musician and producer Marie Davidson, Soft Crash breathe a new life into the namesake track from their preceding album, concluding with an additional remix of the track by cult favourite producer Alen Skanner. The intrinsic dance floor vigour emulated in NRG further fleshes-out the pair’s recognisable DNA of nurturing a revitalised techno sound, cementing them as pioneers of the Italo Body genre.

Written and produced by Hayden Payne & Pablo Bozzi
Mastered by Conor Dalton at Glowcast Mastering

It’s a family affair. One formed almost thirty years ago, back in the mid-nineties, when the pair joined seminal French jazz combo Olympic Grammofon. For twenty-four years they have worked together as Bumcello, each complementing the other, echoing polar opposites. The Boom in Bumcello is none other than Cyril Atef, incisive drummer, relentlessly pushing beats towards new horizons. The Cello is Vincent Ségal, cellist without blinkers and extraordinary musical alchemist. Since 1999, these two die-hard music fans, coming together for mercurial results, have released one record after the other whilst conquering the hearts of their live audiences, old regulars as well as new recruits. We have all been seduced by the way their music leapfrogs categories - these two experts are much more interested in kindred spirits than pigeonholing, and this very spirit is celebrated on more than one track of this ninth record, whose concept is original to say the least.

Everything began with an idea by Cyril Atef - a soundtrack based upon drawings penned by Marin, Vincent’s son, architect and visual artist. The musicians involved then coached their reaction to these images on a score, and the pair were charged with collating and adjusting the results. These thirteen ink drawings, in a heroic fantasy vein, constituted a matrix which was then to serve as a guide, like a roadmap through a singular and multi-faceted labyrinth. The key to this sonic fresco is in Bumcello’s image – an eclectic aesthetic twinned with a great sense of contrast. Herein lies the trademark of this entity animated by the gift of musical ubiquity, gorged on scales and rhythms, capable of a slap as much as a gentle caress. From classical music to electronics, from improvised music to sophisti-pop, everything is allowed with no preconceived ideas. They can even reclaim the traditions of others, all the better to propel them towards new horizons - this is how the very history of music has always panned out.

If you listen between the lines and look at the details, more than one piece bears witness to the moments and individuals that have impacted the criss-crossing lives of Vincent and Cyril. The track Crash is the perfect excuse to create a Jamaican-style jam with New York inflections, and we can see, in capital letters, the name Hilaire Penda, playing alongside Bumcello at the Apollo Theater in the associated drawing. This bass player from Cameroon, who died on 5th November 2018, was more than just a friend for the two Frenchmen. He was one of the family. Similarly, they give a nod to another Cameroonian, and another departed friend - singer of rock band les Têtes brûlées, Zanzibar, through the vocals of fellow countryman Zanzi. The ghost of Rémi Kolpa Kopul, emblematic voice of Radio Nova, haunts the margins of Spark Av, in a vocal sample with a smattering of effects. As for I Remember Tim, it directly honours the memory of Timothy Jerome Parker, aka The Gift Of Gab, another friend who left us in 2021. Tim is depicted in a drawing with the docks of Oakland in the background, and it’s his alter ego within Blackalicious, Chief Xcel, who remotely added his signature to the track, notably by adding the words of Lateef The Truthspeaker to brass and woodwind sounds.

These are the only additions to Bumcello’s original nucleus, all the better to create a genuine musical concoction where Vincent Taurelle is in charge of production and mixing sessions recorded live and direct. He is also invited for a twinkle on the keys (piano, synths, Wurlitzer, organ), on a handful of tracks. Already at the commands of previous opus Monster Talk, always taking care over the slightest detail, the one that makes all the difference, this pianist is now also part of the family. “Everything he brings is perfect, whether added though slight touches or through very important choices”, say the two members of a combo which today, appears to us under the guise of a trio, adding an extra dimension to a far-reaching mix, in the image of the veiled or more explicit tributes making up the cornerstones of this release.

Booker, a drawing where we see the musicians enter a club, honours James Booker, great pianist from New Orleans who has always fascinated Vincent, in a genre that is off-beat and gender defying. Her Story was created by Cyril in support of the Iranian women’s movement. Aysyen Kampe evokes, even in the original drawing, a tradition that remains impactful for Bumcello – Haitian mysticism, and Ouï Khouïette Ouï conjures up the beats of the Allaoui, a war dance from Western Algeria, one they have taken part in in the past with the help of Cheikha Rabia. They deliver a metal version, original and surprising, especially as Marin Ségal’s drawing features the Nicholas Brothers, those iconic dancers of the 30s jazz scene!

Resolutely hard to pin down, Bumcello’s beats can initially take on the structure of disjointed house, though Sangre begins like a film soundtrack, “in a Mexican style” adds Vincent, who was at the origin of this track. A delicate alap on the cello can open up onto afrobeat rhythms, a well-pitched voice can enchant, like on the amazing The City Has Eyes which has everything of a hummable pop hit. Emblematic of this manner of encompassing all music without being exclusive, Le Grand Sommeil, a direct reference to the Howard Hawks movie inspired by Raymond Chandler, a precursor of David Lynch, begins nice and smooth but ends on a wild tempo, on a drum’n’bass tip, as in the good old days of Cithéa, when this Party story began in the other century.

Analogue Productions (Atlantic 75 Series) Celebrating the 75th Anniversary of Atlantic Records! 180-gram 45 RPM double LP Mastered by Bernie Grundman from the original analog tape Contains Otis Redding's posthumous hit "Sittin' On the Dock Of the Bay" Appeared on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, rated 161/500! Pressed at Quality Record Pressings Gatefold old-style "tip-on" jacket by Stoughton Printing Hybrid Mono SACD Mastered directly from the original master tape by Bernie Grundman The guts of the story are this: While on tour with the Bar-Kays in August 1967, Otis Redding's popularity was rising, and he was inundated with fans at his hotel in downtown San Francisco. Looking for a retreat, he accepted rock concert impresario Bill Graham's offer to stay at his houseboat at Waldo Point in Sausalito, California. Inspired, Redding started writing the lines, "Sittin' in the morning sun, I'll be sittin' when the evening comes" and the first verse of a song, under the abbreviated title "Dock of the Bay." He had completed his famed performance at the Monterey Pop Festival just weeks earlier. While touring in support of the albums King & Queen (a collaboration with female vocalist Carla Thomas) and Live in Europe, he continued to scribble lines of the song on napkins and hotel paper. In November of that year, he joined producer and esteemed soul guitarist Steve Cropper at the Stax recording studio in Memphis, Tennessee, to record the song. Cropper remembers: "Otis was one of those the kind of guy who had 100 ideas. ... He had been in San Francisco doing The Fillmore. And the story that I got he was renting boathouse or stayed at a boathouse or something and that's where he got the idea of the ships coming in the bay there. And that's about all he had: 'I watch the ships come in and I watch them roll away again.' I just took that... and I finished the lyrics. If you listen to the songs I collaborated with Otis, most of the lyrics are about him. ... Otis didn't really write about himself but I did. Songs like 'Mr. Pitiful,' 'Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa (Sad Song)'; they were about Otis and Otis' life. 'Dock of the Bay' was exactly that: 'I left my home in Georgia, headed for the Frisco Bay' was all about him going out to San Francisco to perform." Redding and Cropper completed the song in Memphis on Dec 7, 1967 with tragedy, unknowingly, looming. Just two days later Redding lost his life on a routine commute to a performance when the small plane he was in crashed. The other victims of the disaster were four members of the Bar-Kays — guitarist Jimmy King, tenor saxophonist Phalon Jones, organist Ronnie Caldwell, and drummer Carl Cunningham; their valet, Matthew Kelly and pilot Fraser. Cropper and bassist Donald "Duck" Dunn completed the music and melancholic lyrics of "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay' which was taken from the sessions — Redding's final recorded work. Cropper added the distinct sound of seagulls and waves crashing to the background. This is what Redding had wanted to hear on the track according to Cropper who remembered Redding recalling the sounds he heard when he wrote the song on the houseboat. One of the most influential soul singers of the 1960s, Redding exemplified to many listeners the power of Southern "deep soul" — hoarse, gritty vocals, brassy arrangements, and an emotional way with both party tunes and aching ballads. At the time of his tragic death he was 26. ‘(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay’ was released just a month following Redding’s death and became his only ever single to reach number one on the Billboard Hot 100 in January 1968. The album, which shared the song's title, became his largest-selling to date, peaking at No. 4 on the pop albums chart. "Dock of the Bay" was popular in countries across the world and became Redding's most successful record, selling more than 4 million copies worldwide. The song went on to win two Grammy Awards: Best R&B Song and Best Male R&B Vocal Performance. With the album, Redding confirmed himself as a talent lost far too soon. All the hallmarks of a top-notch Analogue Productions reissue are here for you to savor: Mastered directly from the original master tape by Bernie Grundman and cut at 45 RPM. Pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jackets with film lamination by Stoughton Printing.

Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell remains the turning point at which hip-hop crashed through mainstream barriers and never left. Anchored by the crossover smash "Walk This Way," the 1986 blockbuster still sounds like a revolution unfolding in real time. It has everything – hard-rock riffs, turntable scratching, itchy rhythms, hit singles – not the least of which are the trio's invigorating raps and inseparable chemistry. And now it's the first rap record afforded audiophile treatment, courtesy of Mobile Fidelity.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, the reissue label's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP elevates Raising Hell to sonic heights on par with its musical and cultural significance. Ranked the 123rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, 43rd on Pitchfork's Greatest Albums of the 1980s, one of the Top 100 Albums of All Time by TIME – and included on "Best of" lists by Spin, Paste, XXL, Entertainment Weekly, and basically every other significant media outlet – the triple-platinum effort rocks the house.

Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and groove definition of SuperVinyl, Raising Hell unleashes a torrent of massive dynamics and tsunami of frequency-plumbing details underlined by Rick Rubin's taut, crisp, albeit raw and streetwise production. Just as the Queens-based group both defined what hip-hop could represent – and displayed just how big it could get – Rubin's work melded ear-worm hooks, savvy drum loops, metal-leaning guitars, and, of course, Run and D.M.C.'s cross-fire lyrical interplay into watertight frameworks bursting with ideas, tones, samples, and beats. Heard anew on Mobile Fidelity vinyl, Raising Hell is in every regard the aural equivalent of a direct-to-console 1970s classic. And it sounds as fresh as hell.

As for the music, it ranks among the most influential, inventive, and invigorating ever released – rap or otherwise. Vanguard artists such as Ice-T, Eminem, Jay-Z, and Public Enemy's Chuck D – who declared it his all-time favorite and "the first record that made me realize this was an album-oriented genre" – have testified on behalf of its brilliance. And never mind the presence of the Top 5 single "Walk This Way," whose power helped make Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry relevant for the first time in nearly a decade – and literally put Run-D.M.C. in bedrooms ranging from the Bronx to Bartlett to Bad Axe.

Look instead to the rest of the entirely filler-free set, be it the corkscrew turns, slippery wordplay, and "My Sharona"-meets-"Mickey" mixology of the boisterous "It's Tricky," the fat-but-minimized bass grooves and warped turntable wobble of the hysterical "You Be Illin'," chimes-accented inertia and boombox-on- shoulder thunder of the now-iconic "Peter Piper," or voice-as-percussion attack of the funky "Is It Live." With Raising Hell, the answer to the question is always affirmative – a sensation bolstered by the fact the group always had something to say.

The definition of Golden Age Hip-Hop in every way, Run-D.M.C. avoids the negativity and misogyny that later plagued the style, spinning assertive tales about identity (the biographical and culture-changing "My Adidas"), work ethics ("Perfection"), and, most notably, pride (the Harriet Tubman- and Malcom X.-referencing "Proud to Be Black"). Pavement-packed inner cities, tree-lined suburbs, and cornfield-rimmed rural areas would never again be the same. And rocking a rhyme that's right on time would become trickier than ever.

- 180 GRAM AUDIOPHILE VINYL
- INCLUDING INSERT
- 25TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION
- FIRST PRESSING OF 1.500 INDIVIDUALLY NUMBERED COPIES ON FLAMING (ORANGE & YELLOW MIXED)
COLOURED VINYL

They've never been praised for the great albums they produced, but Adorable released one of the stronger albums during the year 1993. Stuck in the moment between the end of the shoegaze hysteria and the Britpop era their debut album Against Perfection appeared. The heavy instrumentation and impressive voice of lead singer Pete Fijalkowski can definitely be linked to the perfection they're searching for in their music. The bittersweet Sunshine Smile' shows their crossover between shoegaze and Britpop, while the secret choruses from the guitar hooks creates the thrill of the unknown on Glorious'. The pre-Adorable tune Homeboy' is a track that follows the quiet-loud music line and it got some distortion and big bass sounds.


Adorable released only two studio albums before disbanding as a music group. It was an impressive 5-year period in which they combined the dreamy world of the shoegaze with the pop, but never got the recognition they deserved.

Against Perfection is available as a first pressing of 1.500 individually numbered copies on flaming vinyl.

Sara Dobbs and Jenny Shore used to work summer stock theater in St. Louis, Missouri. They'd do the hand jive with TV stars past and future; they'd get coldly corrected by the ancient, legendary choreographer Gemze de Lappe. Sara went on to Broadway, including a run as Anybodys in West Side Story. Jenny went on to choreograph in the independent dance scene of early 2000s Chicago. Julie Shore is Jenny's sister. She's always made music_playing Chopin, writing songs, making bands with her friends. She's had the archetypal Millennial journey of entering adulthood in the '08 financial crisis and figuring out what stupid series of jobs you have to take to pay rent while keeping an artistic life alive. Miles Francis grew up in New York City with Backstreet Boys posters covering their walls. An extraordinary drummer since youth, Miles thrives in collaboration_ whether producing artists in their West Village studio, performing with artists like Angelique Kidjo, or powering protests with a big marching drum. These four_Miles, Julie, Jenny, and Sara_are Sister Squares. What made them a musical unit was working with Grammy winner and Oscar nominee Will Butler. They've all just finished a new record together: Will Butler + Sister Squares. "After Generations, I considered making a weird solo record. Me alone in the basement, etc., etc. Mostly I realized that what I wanted was the opposite," says Will. He increasingly turned to the band for feedback on lyrics and song structures. He asked Miles if they'd produce the record. The band played a run of shows in August 2022, airing out studio ideas in live rooms. After coming home, the band regrouped at Figure 8 Studios in Brooklyn. "I had quit my band Arcade Fire very recently, after 20 years_maybe the most complex decision of my life. I had spent the preceding two years at home with my three children. I was 39 years old. I was waking up every morning and reading Emily Dickinson, until I had read every Emily Dickinson poem. I was listening to Morrissey, to Shostakovich, to the Spotify top 50. I had unformed questions with inchoate answers," says Will. "But, honestly, I was feeling great about the record." The album projects widescreen emotional landscapes. Lead-off single "Long Grass" is like a Harry Styles song with 20 more years of life behind it. Standout track "Saturday Night" has a beat, according to Miles, "with that robot-alien-dancing-at-a-haunted- dive-bar feeling that we were going for." The back half of the album is a danceable, weird choral record with harmonies both beautiful and dissonant. Closing song "The Window" is the comedown after the party_Julie playing a Chopin Nocturne on a three-years-out-of-tune piano, slowed to half-speed on tape with Will singing over it in a voice exactly as tired as he was. It's a record with a warm, humane soul.

Sara Dobbs and Jenny Shore used to work summer stock theater in St. Louis, Missouri. They'd do the hand jive with TV stars past and future; they'd get coldly corrected by the ancient, legendary choreographer Gemze de Lappe. Sara went on to Broadway, including a run as Anybodys in West Side Story. Jenny went on to choreograph in the independent dance scene of early 2000s Chicago. Julie Shore is Jenny's sister. She's always made music_playing Chopin, writing songs, making bands with her friends. She's had the archetypal Millennial journey of entering adulthood in the '08 financial crisis and figuring out what stupid series of jobs you have to take to pay rent while keeping an artistic life alive. Miles Francis grew up in New York City with Backstreet Boys posters covering their walls. An extraordinary drummer since youth, Miles thrives in collaboration_ whether producing artists in their West Village studio, performing with artists like Angelique Kidjo, or powering protests with a big marching drum. These four_Miles, Julie, Jenny, and Sara_are Sister Squares. What made them a musical unit was working with Grammy winner and Oscar nominee Will Butler. They've all just finished a new record together: Will Butler + Sister Squares. "After Generations, I considered making a weird solo record. Me alone in the basement, etc., etc. Mostly I realized that what I wanted was the opposite," says Will. He increasingly turned to the band for feedback on lyrics and song structures. He asked Miles if they'd produce the record. The band played a run of shows in August 2022, airing out studio ideas in live rooms. After coming home, the band regrouped at Figure 8 Studios in Brooklyn. "I had quit my band Arcade Fire very recently, after 20 years_maybe the most complex decision of my life. I had spent the preceding two years at home with my three children. I was 39 years old. I was waking up every morning and reading Emily Dickinson, until I had read every Emily Dickinson poem. I was listening to Morrissey, to Shostakovich, to the Spotify top 50. I had unformed questions with inchoate answers," says Will. "But, honestly, I was feeling great about the record." The album projects widescreen emotional landscapes. Lead-off single "Long Grass" is like a Harry Styles song with 20 more years of life behind it. Standout track "Saturday Night" has a beat, according to Miles, "with that robot-alien-dancing-at-a-haunted- dive-bar feeling that we were going for." The back half of the album is a danceable, weird choral record with harmonies both beautiful and dissonant. Closing song "The Window" is the comedown after the party_Julie playing a Chopin Nocturne on a three-years-out-of-tune piano, slowed to half-speed on tape with Will singing over it in a voice exactly as tired as he was. It's a record with a warm, humane soul.

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

Pablo Bozzi inaugurates his new label, Second Sight, with the various artists 'Unknown Prospect'.

The title says it all: boundless and vast, Second Sight's intent is to promote the talents of innovative producers who defy genres in the pursuit of their own idyllic aesthetic.

The Waterboys’ ninth studio album is made available on vinyl for the first time, in limited edition ‘sunrise’ yellow. Originally released in 2007, ‘Book Of Lightning’ was mostly recorded at the former Island Studios in West London. Alongside Mike Scott and Steve Wickham, the album features contributions from pianist Richard Naiff, keyboard mystic Thighpaulsaandra, guitar ace Leo Abrahams and two killer drummers, Jeremy Stacey and Brady Blade. Selections include the understated country rock epic She Tried To Hold Me, the beautiful Sustain, recorded with members of Canadian band Great Aunt Ida, and two songs written for but not recorded during the classic Fisherman's Blues album sessions: Everybody Takes A Tumble and The Man With The Wind At His Heels. Reviewing the album in The Guardian, Dave Simpson said that Scott's songs, “feel like they have been handed to him from a crack in the clouds”. The vinyl format is 180g Sunrise yellow coloured vinyl. The CD format is packaged in a jewelcase with 16 page booklet.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Symphony No. 107 –The Bard, a previously unheard archival recording of the legendary improvising ensemble MEV (Musica Elettronica Viva), captured in concert at Bard College, New York in 2012. Formed by a group of American expat composers in Rome in 1966, the MEV ensemble played an important role in the development of free improvisation, bridging the live electronics tradition begun by Cage and Tudor and the high-energy squall of free jazz. Early recordings like Spacecraft or The Sound Pool unleash volleys of metal and glass amplified with contact microphones, howling winds, primitive synthesizer bleep and raucous audience participation, the intensity of which puts much later ‘noise’ to shame. In later decades, the ensemble would go through many iterations, often including legendary free players like Steve Lacy and George Lewis. In its final years, MEV settled into the core trio of founding members heard here: Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum, using piano, electronics, and small instruments.

Curran, Rzewski, and Teitelbaum were life-long friends blessed, as Curran says, with ‘incompatible personalities’: major figures in the post-Cagean experimental tradition, they explored countless divergent and even contradictory paths as composers and performers, from agitprop songs to brainwave-controlled synthesis. MEV is the sound of these three personalities coming together, their contributions radically individual yet attaining a state of ‘fundamental unity’ that Rzewski, in a text written in the collective’s earliest years, defined as the ‘final goal of improvisation’. Of course, listeners familiar with aspect of the trio’s individual works might hazard some guesses about who is doing what: the crisp piano figures are probably Rzewski’s, the cut-up hip-hop samples most likely Curran’s, the sliding, squelching synth possibly Teitelbaum’s. But often these identities are dissolved in a constantly shifting hall of mirrors, the listener unable to tell which of these pianos is live and which is a sample of a past virtuoso, or whether a horn blast derives from ethnographic documentation or Curran cutting loose on Shofar. The two side-long sets here occupy a similar terrain of constantly shifting texture and instrumentation, unexpected interruptions, and moments of sudden beauty. The first set is sparser, at times almost ominous, as a bell repeatedly sounds across wheezing harmonica, seasick orchestral textures, and creaking wood, making room for episodes of yodelling and delicate prepared piano before exploding into a storm of buzzing synth and piano fragments. The second set is more frenetic, moving rapidly across centuries and continents: cars crash into post-serial piano pointillism, wailing voices collide with chopped and screwed hip-hop samples, Hollywood strings are buried under layers of electronic gurgles. The performance slows in its final moments, making way for a sampled voice repeating the phrase ‘protest and the good of the world’, reminding us that MEV’s idea of freedom was always more than musical. Symphony No. 107 –The Bard is a beautifully recorded example of the endlessly multi-layered later MEV sound, accompanied by new liner notes by Alvin Curran (now the only surviving member of the group) and a selection of previously unseen photographs from across the many decades of the group’s activity. Arriving in an elegant sleeve bearing a beautiful photograph by Francis Zhou of the Olin Hall at Bard College where the concert was recorded, this is an essential document from a major group in the history of experimental music. As Rzewski wrote, this music is ‘like life, unpredictable, sometimes making sense, mostly not’.

FINALLY BACK IN STOCK ON LP!!! Ozma was recorded soon after Melvins made the move from Washington to San Francisco, and was their first release to include the diminutive yet mighty Lorax (Lori Temple Black) on bass. In fact, the first sound one hears at the album’s opening is Lori standing on her tiptoes to switch on her amp, thereby warning the listener of the onslaught to come. Distorted, down-tuned doom riffs start, stop, lurch sideways with no warning, and seem to end before they start. Buzz Osborne adds extraneous guitar static and vocal squeals. Drummer Dale Crover plays as if he’s inside a barrel going over Niagara Falls; the long, slow fall allows the space between beats to grow and grow until he crashes into the water with the vessel blasting apart in an explosion of drum rolls. The classic Melvins heavy grind is set up and broken up by assorted odd sidetracks: “Revulsion / We Reach” flows forward slower and slower until it eventually melts into a gooey feedback drone. “Raise a Paw” is a superball paddled against one’s head by a grinning village idiot. “Love Thing” enlists in the Kiss Army before getting dishonorably discharged.

She’s out of this world…

Maltese musician & producer Joon’s galactic debut arrives on our shores fully formed a decade after she first set sail. 12 cuts of uniquely addictive Synthesized Pop twist & turn on the rocky waters of life.

Her story begins after a life-changing car crash on the streets of Malta many moons ago. She was lucky to walk away in one piece. “That car crash was a wake-up call,” she says. “It made me realize how precious life is & I started living the life I felt was worth living.” Inspired to finally pursue her love of music full time, she began collecting instruments. Starting with a Stylophone& a vintage rhythm box, she started documenting ideas. Returning home to Malta after a few years in London, she only met one other woman making electronic music on the island. Driven by the desire to make music possible & accessible for the next generation, Joon co-founded the Malta Sound Women’s Network.

Ten years later, she sends us messages in a bottle from across the Mediterranean Sea. Armed with a Moog & her ethereal voice, she transmits hope & joy from a bedroom somewhere between Sicily & North Africa. Her music is right at home alongside outsider pioneers like Fever Ray, Grimes, Laurie Anderson & Molly Nilsson. Dream Again glides across heavy rhythms & eclectic electro. Telling stories of alienation with a throbbing heartbeat & space-age melodies, she lets us into her ultra-vivid world where anything is possible. Produced by Johnny Jewel, the album shines bright like comet orbiting the label’s dark sky, a much-needed vision of light on the horizon.

“Even if I’m sad or heartbroken, I remain optimistic. I want to grow old with no regrets.”

It’s time to Dream Again…

Terra Magica Rec. is back with its fifth release “Club TERRAM”! This time it will be another V.A. compilation of never heard and unreleased original gems of electronic body music.

Think: A double 12” vinyl which is fully charged for dismantled club use as those mighty TERRAM clubbers say. Compiled and arranged by Tom Sprenger & Mirko Hecktor all tracks are dance floor oriented rhythms which will activate your maximum energy output as well as total chill out crash. Let the new bots work your life balance. Multiverse to introverse to metaverse. With its discoish genre splicing between 90s-IDM 2 Big Beat and Breakbeats 2 NuCosmic 2 Acid-Madchester 2 rolling trancey driven Goa beats the record reflects the electronic underground culture of dance clubs and discotheques of the past 50 years. These stand for emancipation, gay liberation, cicil rights, working class and democracy. Find your inner peace on the chill out floor side. Or go bonkers to the hedonistic main room floor fillers. Find your unique personal safe space in TERRAMs different floors and hidden rooms. A CLUB FOR A L L. As Richard Dyer wrote in 1979 “In Defence of Disco”: ‘Capitalism constructs the disco experience, but it does not necessarily know what it is doing, apart from making money’.

The underground is where we go moving.

IDLES return with their new album, ‘CRAWLER’, an album of reflection and healing
amid a worldwide pandemic that stretched the planet’s collective mental and physical
health to the breaking point.
 Frontman Joe Talbot says: “We want people who’ve gone through trauma,
heartbreak, and loss to feel like they’re not alone, and also how it is possible to
reclaim joy from those experiences.” IDLES albums have always been anchored by
these overarching themes, but the ability of the band to juxtapose beauty and rage
with humour and drama has never felt more satisfying than on ‘CRAWLER’.
 These stories are vividly brought to life through IDLES’ most soul-stirring music to
date, recorded with co-producers Kenny Beats (Vince Staples, Freddie Gibbs) and
IDLES guitarist Mark Bowen.
 Previous album ‘Ultra Mono’ was Number 1 album in the UK, with over 35k sales
week one.
 Huge 2022 January UK tour including five Brixton Academy dates, three at Glasgow
Barrowlands, two at Manchester Warehouse and more. Over 20k UK tickets sold in
the first hour of release.
 Three high budget music videos, written and directed by LOOSE (Lucy Hickling,
Stink Films).
 CD in digipak packaging.
 Deluxe LP mastered at half-speed (45rpm), pressed on deluxe heavyweight 180g
black double vinyl and housed in a gatefold jacket with printed inner sleeves.
 Eco-Mix coloured vinyl LP housed in a single-sleeve jacket and printed inner sleeve.
Eco-Mix vinyl production uses leftover wax that’s already in the factory, meaning
each record is different and the colour is completely random and unique.
 Standard black vinyl LP housed in a single-sleeve jacket and printed inner sleeve.

Volker Bertelmann and Hildur Guðnadóttir hardly need an introduction - their distinct styles have graced the speakers of pretty much anyone enamored with experimental music in the last decade, and between them the two have chalked up an enviable canon of successes. Bertelmann, under the Hauschka moniker has explored the extremities of prepared piano improvisation, and Guðnadóttir has taken cinematic, explorative cello music into a new era of depth and passion, so to hear them both together is a rare and unexpected treat. Rare is putting it lightly even - „Pan Tone“ is a recording of a single concert which the duo performed on the 26th of February 2010 as part of Arctic Circle - Bubbly Blue and Green festival at Kings Place in London, and documents an event that would truly never be repeated. Sure, they could attempt to re-create the event, but the spontaneity and glorious serendipity in this particular recording is a pleasure to behold.

Bertelmann and Guðnadóttir decided to create a set of compositions which based on the idea of the ocean, and took a book of Pantones to extract exact references to the specific colors of the sea. These watery tones form the backbone of the performance and inform the direction of the collaboration, guiding us through rich blues, glassy greens and frothy whites. In listening to the music it seems incredibly appropriate that the artists should choose blue as the middle ground in their work; the ineffable lightness that Bertelmann brings to the table is a stark contrast to Guðnadóttir's sinking darkness, and as the two styles collide we witness a plethora of tones, shades and hues. It sounds as if the two artists have been playing together for decades, and their sound is so perfectly matched you might wonder why it's taken them this long to collaborate. All that's left for us to do is to soak in the tidal beauty of this very exclusive body of music, to listen to it sing, bubble and crash through its duration before settling in total silence. When the record reaches its conclusion there is an unsettling calm, a sense that you have witnessed something very special indeed, and that is a feeling to prize amongst all else.

Bill Nace"s Through a Room represents a seismic progression from Both, his startling 2020 debut solo LP for Drag City. Nace"s career has been defined by a relentless probing of ways to frame the complex menu of human emotions, and that the guitar has been his primary tool for exploring this terrain is of little consequence. On this new release, he also employs tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, quelle est belle, as well as his latest instrument of choice, taishogoto. This is also, ultimately, insignificant. What matters is the discerning spirit which animates his work. The tracks are carefully built from loops and phrases that talk to each other, subsume one another, overlapping and crashing and diving and expanding and emerging into unimagined vistas. On the whole, the record offers a fascinating and engrossing chronicle - a sequence of interrelated stories told by a temporally dislodged narrator. You think you"re here, then you"re there, and then you go through trapdoors and along tunnels, into cellars and secret rooms, and you find that actually you"re back where you started. But it"s not hard to follow. Trust me. Nothing this enticing can be hard to follow. The record was recorded and edited in Philadelphia during the uncertain summer of 2021 with engineer and co-producer Cooper Crain. Where Both was a chiseling down of spontaneous live performance, Through a Room, while obviously the work of the same artist, treats its sounds as building blocks, combining them to mesmerizing effect. What"s striking is the poise, the degree of authorial intensity. The false dichotomy of composition and improvisation is thoroughly and rightfully abolished. Bill"s interests range from post-punk to post-industrial to hip-hop to free jazz to avant-garde composition, and every area between such unhelpful labels. From the inscrutable, evocative track titles to the enticingly baffling cover art by his longtime compatriot Daniel Higgs, Nace is guided by an ineffable, internal muse, a persistently personal stormcloud of ideas that, ultimately, comprise that thing we call art. Here"s the real deal. - Matt Krefting, Holyoke, 2022

Puckered with ruggedly pointillist swagger and evoking discrete worlds hidden in plain sight, »Traditional Music of South London« is a riveting masterwork by experimental music’s distinctive and cherished modernist, Dale Cornish. It is a concrète grimoire of recent and ancient folklore that binds Dale’s music, lyrics, and background into a strikingly personal synecdoche of South London.

Since emerging as part of London’s shouty electroclash movement in the mid ‘00s, and assuming the role of deconstructed rave pioneer and poet in 2011, Dale Cornish has been (lo)key to new movements in electronic music’s underbelly for the best part of this century. His 12th LP, proper, »Traditional Music of South London« is Dale’s definitive record; a confident testament to artistic maturity that comes with doing your thing against the grain over decades, and a potent expansion on ideas chiselled during his run of releases with the inspirational (now sadly defunct) label, Entr’acte, who helped foster Dale’s explorations of concrète rave and industrial pop tropes during the ‘10s.

On one level the album reads as a deep topography or psychosexual-geography of London’s lost gay club haunts, with the meat-motoring deep house of ‘Great Storm’ recalling DJ Sprinkles taking Loefah to the darkroom in its concrète carved and flesh trembling 8:08 perfection; or more literally in »Foxhole«, with Dale’s deliciously Croydon-toned accent describing urban gay mythologies with pungent lyrics about rotten fox cadavers synced to drily ricocheting hand claps, while the tight swinge of his “requiem for all the dead gay venues” in the gut-level bass of »Hoist Crash Fort«, and the playful evocation of “internecine conflict within the gays - live!” on »Palace Intrigue« just utterly slap like nothing else.

Yet it’s in the LP’s slower, bloozier and folky vocal bits that Dale’s dare- to-differ character comes into its own. The clandestine skulk of ‘My Geography’ portrays him like a modern Jandek traversing London’s brutalist- meets-semi rural meridian, and at its gooier core flashes of folk-classical brilliance such as the groggy ‘Norman Lewis’ give way to the writhing foley orgy of »Crowd Scene«, while the naked, one-take end of szn paean of »SCY BFR HNH« and slurred, Tricky-esque confessional »Shout Outs« consolidate and temper the conflicting aspects of his persona with a deep burning pathos in the LP’s fading phosphorescence.

In an era of overproduction and imitation-not-innovation, Dale’s strikingly original, sensually brutalist industro-folk-dance-pop critically cocks a snook at conventional, careerist music while embracing its heartical truths. An extremely personal record certain to resonate with those who believe art in music still matters.

When James Pepper met Riccardo Paffetti (Black Loops) a bromance was quick to bloom. After touring the Berlin-based Italian across Australia, the two soon realised they not only loved each others company but records too.

Following Black Loops maiden trip down under, the dudes stayed in touch and led to Pep crashing on Riccardo’s sofa bed for a week in Berlin. The duo went to work in the studio, brewing up some gems that were released on classy imprints Neovinyl Recordings and Haŵs.

It was on Paffetti’s most recent trip to Oz (well before the world shutdown) that brought about their most anticipated tracks to date. Bunkering down in a Marrickville studio, the cross-continent pairing got up close and personal with some neat hardware. Experimenting with an array of compressors, a TR8 and the Elektron Analog Four MKII ‘Three Drops’ EP was born.

The EP is a lively affair. A rampant message to club folk far and wide. Founded on lo-fi percussion, a crunchy kick and echoed key sections ‘Three Drops’ throws a flurry of punches. Varied combinations of electro, acid and techno rolling together just right. Here we have a welcome jab of adrenaline. You can almost visualise the duo grinning from ear-to-ear, as they bring in each piece of machinery.

'Three Drops’ made its live debut at Pepper’s recent Boiler Room in Sydney and has since taken the interwebs by storm. Hundred’s of ID requests later and the time is right to share this gem as the clubs open back up across the globe.

The B side and new single has arrived in ‘Arp Love’. A frantically beautiful dose of techno. Soaring risers make way for pulsating chords and shimmering TR8 patterns, as we’re led deep into a clubby rabbit hole. In signature Black Loops style, a spoken word sample on the disappointment of love breaks the piece in two.

For a burgeoning Sydney producer like Pep it must be truly amazing to co-write alongside Riccardo - an artist who’s clocked tens of millions of streams worldwide, claimed Deep House Artist of The Year (2017) via Traxsouce plus released weaponry on revered labels such as Shall Not Fade, Toy Tonics, Gruuv and Good Ratio.

We’re grateful James Pepper and Black Loops got together. These two on tracks makes sense.

Anthology introducing the first of a series of albums based on the concept of Aquapelago.

‘’ Since the earliest days of the planet there has been a rhythm of tides that creates coastal interzones where humans have foraged and pursued various livelihoods. Developing boats to fish from and technologies that enabled them to immerse themselves deep underwater, the aquatic realm has been one explored, experienced and imagined in various ways. In an effort to express the vitality and richness of this environment I coined the term aquapelago in 2012. The wordplay was deliberate. The neologism was designed to distinguish the liquid inbetweenness of this space from the dry, scattered, lands of archipelagos.

The concept of the aquapelago coalesced around themes taken from various places. Epeli Hau’ofa’s idea of an Oceanic “sea of islands’” was formative but a number of songs were also inspirational. Torres Strait islander Seaman Dan captivated me with his experiences of pearl diving in the Darnley Deeps in his song ‘Forty Fathoms’ and Norfolk Islander singer Kath King imaged how sea-turtles might have experienced ecological change in her song ‘Tech me how fer lew’. Other reflections on watery realms also appealed. Debussy’s solo piano piece ‘La cathédrale engloutie’ soundtracked me as I researched myths of lost Lyonesse while Mike Cooper’s Kiribati, an ambient exoticist album about the imperilled archipelago (recently re-released on Discrepant), caused me to reflect on the social and cultural impact of sea level rise before that topic became a high-profile concern.

This compilation album takes the concept of the aquapelago into new depths and breaches it on fresh shores. The tracks are soaked with the aquatic. Bassy sonorities boom as if heard deep underwater. Bubbly textures breach the surface, water drips and seabirds soar high above waves. Sugai Kei samples fragments of text concerning the Ningen, a fantastic humanoid/whale that reflects the ‘aquapelagic imaginary’ of modern Japan and its preoccupation with industrial whaling. Andrew Pekler continues the orientation of his Phantom Islands project - a sonic atlas of imaginary places - with a soundscape as if heard by a swimmer just offshore, mixing sounds of the island and the sea together. Mike Cooper’s sonic reflection on Hong Kong’s Lamma Island is similar, combining the island’s ubiquitous barking dogs with the slurp of waves on rocky shores, conjuring a languorous time before Chinese crackdowns on the territory.

Taking another tack, the Dead Mauriacs gleefully water-ski through collage of tropical island exoticisms, replete with glitchy orientalism, while Babau combines skittering idiophone melodies with resonant glissandi. Vica Pacheco moves between dense and airy sounds, as if crossing between surf lines and the space above. Yannkick Dauby’s track is also imbued with in-betweenness, evoking ambient sounds heard through a ship’s hull. Sculpture’s ‘Froth Surfer’ realises its title, with bubbling sounds and rhythms that evoke Hawaiian surfing filtered through layers of time and distance. Reminding us of the shore necessary for aquapelagic spaces, Franceso Cavaliere and Tomoko Sauvage’s composition anchors the album, centred around shaken rhythms and resonant ringing tones and drones.

Taken together, the album sketches the contours of the aquapelago as it might be imagined and conjured in sound – an endless oceanic realm that laps on to beaches and crashes against cliffs. The performers navigate this space under alternately starry and cloudy skies, orientating themselves with sounds, textures and sonic samples of their terrestrial homes while we float with them. ‘’
Philip Hayward December 2021

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)

823 is a multifaceted Perth-based record label, fashion brand, and artistic community, founded by Australian producer and all-around creative, Ta-ku (846k monthly listeners on Spotify). With an ethos of attention to detail and appreciation for the everyday things in life, 823 doesn’t stick to any particular genre. 823’s releases include Cabu’s (800k Monthly Listeners on Spotify) “So Far To Go” EP, Ta-ku and matt mcwaters’s duo project “Black and White,” which featured Masego collaboration “Flight 99” (14 million streams on Spotify), their debut release with Australian producer and instrumentalist Kuzich, and multiple sold out clothing capsules. “All Things Considered Vol. 1” set off a collaborative series of curated compilations, featuring both budding and well-established artists around the world including Idealism, Wun Two, pastels, SwuM, Jinsang, Saltyyyy V, and more. “All Things Considered Vol. 2” sees the continuation of this project, this time in partnership with fellow Perth-based powerhouse, Butter Goods.

Butter Goods is a Perth clothing brand rooted in skating culture and style, but drawing inspiration from hip-hop, jazz, and music at large. Butter Goods has been featured in major publications, including GQ, Complex, and HYPEBEAST. They’ve collaborated on releases with Peanuts and Puma, and have reached international levels of popularity. Butter Goods co-founder Garth Mariano’s deep love for and eclectic tastes in music drive his creativity, and are front and center in his partnership with Ta-ku and 823 on “All Things Considered Vol 2,” where the two team up to curate a wide-ranging compilation.

Arriving on September 2nd, 2022, “All Things Considered Vol. 2” is an exploration of Ta-ku’s and Mariano’s extensive and often overlapping musical palettes in two parts. The record pays homage to the love of instrumental music and hidden gems of new school jazz and funk that act as a source of inspiration and nostalgia for the both of them. The collaboration brings together over a dozen producers and instrumentalists from Sydney to Chicago, including Jadu Jadu, Gnarly, Tenderlonius, silentjay, and more. Side A is curated by Ta-ku and 823. It’s as much a love letter to the past as it is a nod to the future of beat-making. Featuring sample heavy, drum looped beats, sprinkled with the occasional ear candy for the attentive listener, it presents cruisy soundscapes & easy listening. Side B is curated by Garth and Butter Goods. It’s a raw and eclectic companion to Side A, leaning heavily into the texture and grit of multi-layered jazz and funk-driven beats.

As with any 823 release, the project is as visual as it is sonic. The artwork and visualizers are a celebration of Garth’s love of thrift culture and old nature documentaries, fused with 823’s design aesthetic of bringing everyday inspirations to the forefront. CRT style visuals are paired with 90’s spin, slide and fade away transitions. When partnered with the music, each visualizer could easily work as the intro for an episode of a VHS series of nature docos.

1st single, “senzu bean,” arrives on July 7th and kicks off Side A, showcasing Ta-ku’s hip-hop-centric tastes. Sydney producer Jadu Jadu teams up with UK-based TAMBALA, apltn, and Makzo for a vibrant instrumental. From a head-nodding bassline beneath fuzzy synths, to soft horn licks sprinkled over electronic drums, “senzu bean” is sonically rich and multilayered.

2nd single, “Too Much” by UK producer saaaz arrives July 20th. It’s a moody and low-tempo beat that builds itself up over time, complete with cryptic vocal samples and syrupy drums and bass. Also off of 823’s Side A, “Too Much” maintains a laid-back hip-hop theme but with saaaz’s signature and definitive lo-fi twist.

3rd single, “Goodmorning” from Baro Sura and silentjay of Melbourne arrives August 3rd, kicking off Butter Good’s Side B. The track is bright from start to finish and is a sun-filled track perfect for closing out the summer with. Final single, “Fool’s Gold” by Los Angeles producer L.Dre arrives August 17th. The infinitely creative beatmaker layers soft hums and the sounds of crashing waves over crisp drums and an infectious bassline. Together, it makes for a beat that sounds like it was made outside, under the sun, and is best enjoyed in the same way.

Focus track, “Seventh Wonder” by Tenderlonius, comes off of Side B, and is a window into the ideas and palettes on both sides of the compilation. The beat slowly fades in, one sound at a time, until it reaches a full-fledged groove, soaked in synths, bass, and horns, that’s impossible not to move to.

On the whole, “All Things Considered Vol. 2” is a forward-focused, sonic journey into the minds behind two of today’s great creative brands, and is as artistically eclectic and varied as those minds are, and a proud follow-up to its first volume.

LP contains A2 poster on uncoated stock.

As Spacemoth's Maryam Qudus was hard at work in her recording studio, synthesizers piled high, she found her mind in another place, hypnotized by the questions swirling inside her: “How could I ever face this world alone?” she wondered. “How long will I be able to stay in this place that I love?” Attempting to understand her position in the universe, the relationships that hold her together, and the climate crisis unfolding around her, she realized ruminating over these concerns was paradoxically taking her away from precious experiences. No Past No Future is the reckoning point between nostalgia and nihilism: the struggle to hang on to a moment as it warps in time.

Devotion to music has driven Qudus—a performer, composer, and producer based in the Bay Area—for as long as she can remember. At age twelve, she traded chores for guitar lessons; at sixteen, she took on after school jobs to pay for voice lessons. As a first-generation Afghan-American child of working-class immigrant parents, finding a place in music has been nothing short of a challenge for Qudus.

The bulk of performance on Spacemoth songs comes from Qudus herself, who favors vintage synths like the Yamaha CS-50 and Korg Polysix alongside fluttering tape manipulations; these create cosmic, lush soundbeds, drawing comparisons to beloved projects like Broadcast and Stereolab. On songs like “Waves Come Crashing,” a whirlwind of noise leads into darker, bass-heavy instrumentation as she confronts the inevitability of death: “These fears, they have taken our years,” she laments about the anxiety of mortality. On “Pipe and Pistol,” Qudus explores the experience of being an immigrant starting over in America. The song showcases punchy rhythms, reminiscent of Devo’s post-punk dynamism: “I see your face / my powers, they raise,” she sings with potency. Identifying cyclical habits inspired “Round In Loops,” which highlights patterns we endure in our lives and minds. “Boss is waiting / we run / love is fading / we run,” Qudus commands, encouraging escapism and a break to the cycle of mundanity.

Every track flows with Qudus’ low timbered vocals, in harmony with the watery, glowing synthesizers that anchor the album. The result is a record rich in intergalactic, avant-pop, radiating in astonishment at the vast, emotional landscape humans contain within ourselves, and in wonder at the preciousness of our time on earth.

• From critically acclaimed composer, producer and multi-instrumentalist Bobby Krlic comes the Ivor Novello-nominated Original Soundtrack to Returnal™. Returnal is a roguelike psychological third-person shooter developed by Housemarque and published by Sony Interactive Entertainment. The game launched last April on PlayStation 5 and won several end-year accolades, including Best Game at the 18th British Academy Games Awards.

• Best known for his work as the Haxan Cloak, Bobby Krlic brings his experience as an award-winning to Returnal, imbuing the score with a gritty and experimental quality that matches the tone of the third-person shooter game. Punctuated by atmospheric strings and intensely foreboding synths, the music captures the high stakes energy of the futuristic world.

• Published by Milan Records the score to Returnal is now available on vinyl and is pressed on a transparent yellow vinyl housed in a dress jacket.

• The album marks Krlic’s first-ever video game title as lead composer and follows his critically acclaimed, award-winning scores for director Ari Aster’s Midsommar, Hulu’s Reprisal, TNT’s Snowpiercer and The Alienist, and more. With each project, Krlic adds new elements or experiments with techniques that he has never used before. Returnal was no exception. His creative process began in a similar way, as usual, tinkering away with melodies and themes on his acoustic instruments. But much like the ever-shifting environment in the game, the acoustic roots of Returnal’s sound shifted, allowing Krlic to venture further into the world of modular synthesis.

• “With Returnal, it felt to me that they wanted to do something with that genre that I hadn’t really seen before. In the game, when you die, you never die. You wake up back at this crash where your spaceship landed. The landscape is ever so subtly changing every time you wake up, so you have this constant feeling of disorientation that grows bigger and bigger. I thought that concept was so cool. There were so many ideas that I could build into the music from that.”- Bob Krlic

The wiggy wanderings of Oog Bogo wind up on the same island of lost joys all at once, manufacturing a virtual jukebox of singles and side flips that won’t unplug, and just keeps reeling and raging on instead. A bright metallurgy of guitar pop, psych, post-punk and apocalypse disco embosses the sleek, multicoloured flash of ‘Plastic’.

 Oog Bogo are a four-piece rock band from Los Angeles and their new album is ‘Plastic’, an electrifying set of songs and sounds that just don’t stop, working like a machine that makes joy and endless flips and repetitions, whether in front of the turntable or out in the real world.
 In the past several years, Oog Bogo dropped two records that previewed this explosion in wildly divergent ways: 2019’s ‘Oogbogo’ EP, with wigged-out production, its contorted fun house mirror images pulling punk, psych and new wave in and out of focus in a chaotic procession of mutant tunes. 2021’s ‘EP2’ radiates a starkly different vibe, as chilled-out guitar-pop tunes conjure a flowing medley of plaintive echoes and atmospheres in a mellow mist of hiss.

 Kevin Boog recorded these records in a largely hermetic state: at home on 4-track, playing all the parts, slowly drawing out the sounds. The songs for ‘Plastic’ were demoed this way too, as a starting point for a group interpretation - but when, for obvious reasons, logistics prevented everyone from getting in the same room to even rehearse, the planned recording session at Ty Segall’s Harmonizer Studios took on a different shape.

 Starting off with only drummer Thomas Alvarez (Audacity) to accompany him, Kevin
realized that any obstacles to getting the record made were also opportunities, for
something else that was also right to happen. Rather than reach for the design of the
demos, he kept himself in the present moment, approaching every passage as fluidly
as possible, playing what he needed to play, staying open to what he needed to
know. It didn’t hurt that the laptop with all his songs crashed right after he walked into
the studio! There was no way possible but forward.
 The direction was right on with the guys at Harmonizer - Ty Segall’s sense of
imagination made him the ideal production counterpart to walk together with Kevin
into this world, psyched to experiment and ready to get weird at any time. Ty and
engineer Matt Littlejohn met all requests and requirements in the form of sounds, with
gear and approaches that amazed and delighted, and an eternally ebullient spirit.
 As this was Oog Bogo’s first time recording away from home, Kevin was a kid in a
candy store - where the store owner turns out to be a Wonka-esque philanthropist.
As band members Mike Kreibel (Dirty & His Fists) and Shelby Jacobson (Shannon
Lay) joined the session, there was a synchronicity and community with everyone
involved, finding an unexpected road to realizing the songs, with all the colours and
hues they added making everything pop that much harder.
 Fluidity was key: ‘Plastic’’s tunes depict a polymorphic cast of characters. As in life,
they leap avidly from style to style; from pretty psych rock to new wave apocalypse
disco and harsh post punk bleakness, sometimes in a verse and a half. Corkscrewing
over and over like a riff-driven space-coaster, morphing in and out of each
successive moment with increasing momentum and gravity, ‘Plastic’ defines and
redefines Oog Bogo, with sweet tunes, barely-controlled intensity and sharp
production moves - a killer first album and an equally killer evolving state of mind.

The wiggy wanderings of Oog Bogo wind up on the same island of lost joys all at once, manufacturing a virtual jukebox of singles and side flips that won’t unplug, and just keeps reeling and raging on instead. A bright metallurgy of guitar pop, psych, post-punk and apocalypse disco embosses the sleek, multicoloured flash of ‘Plastic’.

 Oog Bogo are a four-piece rock band from Los Angeles and their new album is ‘Plastic’, an electrifying set of songs and sounds that just don’t stop, working like a machine that makes joy and endless flips and repetitions, whether in front of the turntable or out in the real world.
 In the past several years, Oog Bogo dropped two records that previewed this explosion in wildly divergent ways: 2019’s ‘Oogbogo’ EP, with wigged-out production, its contorted fun house mirror images pulling punk, psych and new wave in and out of focus in a chaotic procession of mutant tunes. 2021’s ‘EP2’ radiates a starkly different vibe, as chilled-out guitar-pop tunes conjure a flowing medley of plaintive echoes and atmospheres in a mellow mist of hiss.

 Kevin Boog recorded these records in a largely hermetic state: at home on 4-track, playing all the parts, slowly drawing out the sounds. The songs for ‘Plastic’ were demoed this way too, as a starting point for a group interpretation - but when, for obvious reasons, logistics prevented everyone from getting in the same room to even rehearse, the planned recording session at Ty Segall’s Harmonizer Studios took on a different shape.

 Starting off with only drummer Thomas Alvarez (Audacity) to accompany him, Kevin
realized that any obstacles to getting the record made were also opportunities, for
something else that was also right to happen. Rather than reach for the design of the
demos, he kept himself in the present moment, approaching every passage as fluidly
as possible, playing what he needed to play, staying open to what he needed to
know. It didn’t hurt that the laptop with all his songs crashed right after he walked into
the studio! There was no way possible but forward.
 The direction was right on with the guys at Harmonizer - Ty Segall’s sense of
imagination made him the ideal production counterpart to walk together with Kevin
into this world, psyched to experiment and ready to get weird at any time. Ty and
engineer Matt Littlejohn met all requests and requirements in the form of sounds, with
gear and approaches that amazed and delighted, and an eternally ebullient spirit.
 As this was Oog Bogo’s first time recording away from home, Kevin was a kid in a
candy store - where the store owner turns out to be a Wonka-esque philanthropist.
As band members Mike Kreibel (Dirty & His Fists) and Shelby Jacobson (Shannon
Lay) joined the session, there was a synchronicity and community with everyone
involved, finding an unexpected road to realizing the songs, with all the colours and
hues they added making everything pop that much harder.
 Fluidity was key: ‘Plastic’’s tunes depict a polymorphic cast of characters. As in life,
they leap avidly from style to style; from pretty psych rock to new wave apocalypse
disco and harsh post punk bleakness, sometimes in a verse and a half. Corkscrewing
over and over like a riff-driven space-coaster, morphing in and out of each
successive moment with increasing momentum and gravity, ‘Plastic’ defines and
redefines Oog Bogo, with sweet tunes, barely-controlled intensity and sharp
production moves - a killer first album and an equally killer evolving state of mind.

'Fever Dream' is Grumpster's debut album on Pure Noise Records. The album explores going through life in a dream-like state. Disassociating constantly to escape reality and what may be going on in life. Having strange thoughts, ideas, and desires. A blurred sense of reality that makes it difficult to discern what is real and what is in your head.