Buscar:cycle one

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a mystique in things that appear in threes. In Greek mythology it represents harmony, wisdom and understanding: for Pythagoras it’s the smallest number needed to create a pattern, the perfect combination of brevity and rhythm, while in literature there’s no story without a beginning, middle and end or past present and future. Summed up in the Latin phrase omne trim perfectum, for Southampton based songwriter Ian Miles (Guitarist/Songwriter with UK band, Creeper) the perfect trio presents itself as Degradation, Death and Decay. Inspired by performance art of the 70s and Halloween — taking cues from the visual legacies of Robert Rauschenberg and Serbian film maker Marina Abramovic while musically drawing on bands such as Conor Oberst, Leonard Cohen, R.E.M and The Cure — this first full-length is more art horror project than album. “I never really seen this as a solo project because I’ve been writing and recording acoustic music since I was about 15. I low key released some very old songs way before Creeper started and even during,” says Miles about choosing to step out on his own. “I don’t want to be the focus of this record, it’s not about me so I have decided to hide me. I want people to solely focus on the art.” Layered with haunting vocals and a myriad of rhythmic textures, Miles sets out to explore one of natures most habitual cycles: our individual journeys though life, that life eventually coming to an end and acceptance, striving to give the listener full control over the art rather than focus on the inherently human force behind the mask.

It was the mid 80s. A musical revolution was already steamrolling throughout the French West Indies when the band Kassav' produced what was to become the sound of the decade. With a now wider use of synthetic and digital tones, the "zouk" wave literally swept away to sea the biguine and cadence from the West Indian musical landscape. While this took place, some musicians chose to make an alternative use of the new techniques brought on by the advent of synthesizers. Musicians like Serge Fabriano.

It was back in 1980 that Serge, a talented young musician from Guadeloupe, while studying for a degree in 'Arts & Informatique' (Computers & Arts Cycle) at the Université De Vincennes near Paris, discovered early computer-generated digital music (MAO in French) thanks to his roommates, who both taught computer-generated graphic arts. In 1982 Fabriano and his Fabriano Unité Zion project recorded, with the help of Alain-Jean Marie, Mario Canonge and Pierre Labor, Cosmik Syndika*, which to this day remains a masterpiece of made-in-Guadeloupe Caribbean jazz.

The following years saw him tour the US and Canada as well as several other countries. By 1986 he was back in Guadeloupe, teaching music in the secondary schools of Point-à -Pître and Sainte-Rose. While doing this, his ongoing passion for the budding MAO led him to kit himself out: the Yamaha CX5M (MSX Music Computer), the Macintosh Plus, the legendary synthesizers DX7 and DX11 and several other early rhythm machines became his new toys.

Him and his partner at the time, Marie-Reine Lamoureux, who was also both a teacher and a musician, as well as a member of the Fabriano Fuzion project, decided to involve their pupils in his electronic musical experimentations. They recorded an album, composed of five tracks deliberately titled Demain, under the name 'Digital Caresse' (the idea behind this was that instead of hitting the percussions to make music, one stroked the computer keyboard to coax a sound). The combination of the children's choir, enchanting wonky flutes, saturated electronic beat and cosmic atmosphere perfectly outline the purity of this rough diamond.

Over the course of five records to date, JUNO Award-winning Toronto rapper Shad has used an array of old-school tools to tackle modern problems, addressing the indignities and absurdities of our world through a shapeshfiting melange of boom-bap breaks, dusty soul samples, jazzy improvisation, and 10 dollar words rolled into thousand-dollar rhymes. But after weaving his myriad musical and philosophical interests into a narrative socio-political song cycle—2018’s A Short Story About a War—Shad began building his sixth record, TAO, from a much simpler concept: an image of a circle. Though, in true Shad fashion, he saw something much more profound within its basic round boundaries.

“The thing that inspired this record was this image in my mind of a circle, but it’s getting fragmented, and then the pieces start floating away from each other,” he explains. “And that felt to me like a picture of ourselves as individuals. If you think of our humanity as one whole, there’s all these different aspects of that, whether that’s work, or our relationship to the land, or our relationship to the transcendent, or our relationship to our bodies, or to our inner child?”

in winter 2016, taumel and the ensemble adapter met for several improvisational sessions to develop an evening of music in which the contrasts and boundaries between composition and improvisation, freedom and determination, chaos and structure were to blur or collide. the sessions focused on the development of a specific, sound-gestural musical language. in a way, each musician developed kind of a character on his instrument and its own specific soundgesture. we recorded these sessions and used them as a basis for "in pieces". "in pieces" consists of the remixes of these sessions, as well as additional studio material produced by taumel. "in pieces" can be understood as a sureal sound poem, an abstract sound story that wanders through the most different states - from greatest happiness to frenzy and madness. in the 2 mutating sound fields, the associative story revolves around the theme of linguistic inalienability and thus also around the theme of 'chaos and order'. this ambiguity, the attempt at beauty and its overturning into destruction and failure. attempts at writing, attempts at speaking, stammering, stuttering, screaming, constriction, drifting away, humming... in the mutation of states, heterogeneous sound events meet or are mixed to a new kind of soundmash between song, voices, melody, harmony, instruments, noise, beats, riffs, words, electronics and alienation. the action of the instrumentalists (the instrument playing) is on the same level as any other sound producing action or vocal expression as well as any electronic sound production and is always meant gesturally, performatively, as action, as acoustic dance. "volume one" is the first part of a musical context planned as a two-part work (in pieces - volume two). in two sound parts (side a, side b) "in pieces - volume one" is not a song cycle like our other series, e.g. TRAUM, but rather a musical 2-act, later altogether 4-act. here the overall form of the musical series is not divided into albums and songs, but into albums and their a+b sides, like act 1, 2, 3 and 4. perhaps, therefore, "in pieces" can also be heard as an acoustic theater, or as a radio play without words, or as a soundtrack without a film, or as a film without a picture, or simply as an order of changing sound events . "off the record" in "off the record" taumel meets other musicians and develops albums in collaboration. here different forms of musical interaction can be tried out. in this case of "in pieces" the collaboration with the ensemble adapter consisted in these sessions, which form the basic framework and skeleton for the whole album.

Rage, confusion, despair, self-deception, and introspection Madi Diaz cycles
through the full spectrum of emotions on History Of A Feeling,
her debut on ANTI-.
It’s an album that undeniably marks Diaz’s status as a first-rate songwriter, a
craft she’s spent years refining, and one wherein Diaz establishes herself as an
artist capable of distilling profound feelings with ease.
Diaz pulls from a range of folk, country, and pop leanings she is as much influenced by Patty Griffin and Lori McKenna as she is the sonics of PJ Harvey
and directness of Kathleen Hanna. On History Of A Feeling, the Nashville based
songwriter comes to terms with the dissolution of a meaningful relationship.
By the end of it, she wills herself into a self-reflective state where she doesn’t
hate herself for being so heartbroken.
The songs on History Of A Feeling, are the most direct and introspective songs
Diaz has ever written. In the few times she’s gotten to perform them live in
front of an audience, Diaz describes the experience as one where she feels
acutely present even though she’s singing about emotions that started to take
root years ago.
It’s relatable to anyone who has experienced heartbreak and great change in
some manner, and this profound sense of intimacy and camaraderie she seamlessly weaves into the songs was important to her.
“I wanted it to sound conversational, like I had just walked over to your house
and we’re sitting and at the end of your driveway talking just like we’re hashing it out in the same way that you’d call a best friend at one in the morning
because you needed to talk about what just happened.”

Runnner's Always Repeating yearns for a sense of place. The project of the now LA-based songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Noah Weinman, Runnner's poignant reflections on the isolation and anxiety caused by a sense of rootlessness radiate with wit and charm. Self-produced and recorded wherever he called home at the time, Always Repeating documents this cycle of looking back and moving forward, of alienation changing to reconciliation. For Weinman, Runnner is primarily a solo endeavor with an ever - expanding musical community of musicians collaborating on his albums and shows, which at times have been known to feature up to a 7-piece live band (he also has a burgeoning career as a producer, notably working on Skullcrusher's critically-acclaimed debut EP for Secretly Canadian). Weinman completed Always Repeating last fall in Western Massachusetts and Woodstock using a mobile studio set-up. He played the majority of the instruments himself, including guitar, bass, trumpet, banjo, piano and synth. The goal was to create the perfect balance of intimate and melancholy songwriting through the lens of hi-fi/lo-fi dynamics, inspired by his favorite artists like Bon Iver, the Microphones, and Julien Baker. The 10-track collection is composed of five re-recorded versions of songs that appeared on Runnner's 2017 debut, Awash, and 2020's One of One EP. Although the songs were written over the course of three years, all find Weinman grappling with the same thing: feelings of uncertainty about his life. Always Repeating ultimately tells the start of Weinman's journey as Runnner, and his cyclical feelings of being connected and then disconnected from the world over and over again.

Runnner’s Always Repeating yearns for a sense of place. The project of the now LA-based songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Noah Weinman, Runnner’s poignant reflections on the isolation and anxiety caused by a sense of rootlessness radiate with wit and charm. Self-produced and recorded wherever he called home at the time, Always Repeating documents this cycle of looking back and moving forward, of alienation changing to reconciliation.

For Weinman, Runnner is primarily a solo endeavor with an ever-expanding musical community of musicians collaborating on his albums and shows, which at times have been known to feature up to a 7-piece live band (he also has a burgeoning career as a

producer, notably working on Skullcrusher’s critically-acclaimed debut EP for Secretly Canadian). Weinman completed Always Repeating last fall in Western Massachusetts and Woodstock using a mobile studio set-up. He played the majority of the instruments himself, including guitar, bass, trumpet, banjo, piano and synth. The goal was to create the perfect balance of intimate and melancholy songwriting through the lens of hi-fi/lo-fi dynamics, inspired by his favorite artists like Bon Iver, the Microphones, and Julien Baker.

The 10-track collection is composed of five re-recorded versions of songs that appeared on Runnner’s 2017 debut, Awash, and 2020’s One of One EP. Although the songs were written over the course of three years, all find Weinman grappling with the same thing: feelings of uncertainty about his life. Always Repeating ultimately tells the start of Weinman’s journey as Runnner, and his cyclical feelings of being connected and then disconnected from the world over and over again.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Parampara Festival 13.3.1992, a stunning performance by Amelia Cuni captured live in Berlin almost thirty years ago. Milanese by birth and resident in Berlin for many years, Cuni lived in India for over a decade, studying the classical vocal style of dhrupad under masters of the form. Though perhaps known to many listeners primarily through her performances of the vocal music of John Cage and collaborations with Werner Durand and Terry Riley, she is recognised internationally as one of the great contemporary proponents of traditional dhrupad singing. These recordings document her performance at the 1992 Parampara Festival at the Haus der Kulturen der Welt, a landmark event celebrating the global spread of Indian classical music, bringing together Indian teachers with their international students.

Accompanied by Gianni Ricchizzi on vichitra vina (a plucked zither played with a glass ball slide) and her own tanpura, Cuni stretches out for a languorous side-long performance of the late night Raag Bageshri, the limpid tones of her vocal improvisations illuminating the droning strings like flashes of the moon revealed by rushing clouds. Initially working patiently through a series of subtle dialogues between Cuni’s melodic extemporisations and phrases in response from Richizzi’s vichitra vina, the performance builds to a series of strikingly beautiful, virtuosic held notes from Cuni at the beginning of its second half, before picking up some brisker rhythmic articulation on the way to its conclusion.

On Devino Amor, Cuni presents her own composition, a setting of mystical texts by the 13th century Franciscan friar Jacopone da Todi, elaborated through various traditional raags. Like the words used for most dhrupad compositions, the text Cuni has selected from da Todi praises divine love, thus linking her otherwise unorthodox use of Italian text to the dhrupad tradition. The result is a performance of a yearning intensity that communicates across any language barrier. On the final performance, Cuni and Ricchizzi are joined by Helmut Waibl on the two-headed pakhawaj drum for a piece using a 14 beat rhythmic pattern that sets in motion a cycle of tension and release, metrical dissolution and resolution, possessing a subtle grandeur.

Illustrated with archival images of the performance and accompanied by new liner notes from Peter Pannke and Lars-Christian Koch, Parampara Festival 13.3.1992 invites listeners to lose themselves in Amelia Cuni’s unique approach to ancient tradition.

Multi-platinum rock band STAIND are back with their first album in nine years, Live: It’s Been Awhile, May 7 via Yap’em / Alchemy Recordings. The band is comprised of lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist Aaron Lewis, lead guitarist Mike Mushok, bassist and backing vocalist Johnny April, and drummer Sal Giancarelli. Over the course of their career, the band has released seven studio albums and eight Top 10 singles, selling over 15 million albums worldwide. Break The Cycle, released in 2001 and RIAA certified 5x platinum, featured the smash single, “It’s Been Awhile,” one of the most played songs in modern rock radio history, spending 20 weeks at Number 1. In 2019 after a five-year hiatus, STAIND reunited for some unforgettable festival performances, and a hometown reunion show at Foxwoods Casino in Mashantucket, CT where their upcoming album, Live: It’s Been Awhile was recorded.

Having already unearthed three collections of archival ‘70s recordings by Catherine Christer Hennix, Blank Forms continues their annual illumination of the visionary Swedish composer’s music by turning to more recent work with this first-time vinyl edition of Hennix’s “Blues Alif Lam Mim in the Mode of Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis,” a 2014 piece first released as a CD in 2016 (Important Records).

The double album captures the April 22, 2014 premiere of Hennix’s composition by by the Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage, her expanded just intonation ensemble, featuring a brass section of Amir ElSaffar, Paul Schwingenschlögl, Hilary Jeffery, Elena Kakaliagou, and Robin Hayward; live electronics by Stefan Tiedje and Marcus Pal; and voice by Amirtha Kidambi, Imam Ahmet Muhsin Tüzer, and Hennix herself. Intended to reveal the blues’ origins in the eastern musical traditions of raga and makam, “Blues Alif Lam Mim in the Mode of Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis” has its roots in Hennix’s 2013 realization of an “Illuminatory Sound Environment,” a concept developed in 1978 by anti-artist Henry Flynt on the basis of Hennix’s own “The Electric Harpsichord.”

As Hennix explains in Other Matters, Blank Forms’ 2019 collection of her writings:

“Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis presents fragments of ‘raga-like’ frequency constellations following distinct cycles and permuting their order, creating a simultaneity of ‘multi-universes.’ When two such ‘universes’ come in proximity of each other and begin unfolding simultaneously along distinct cycles, there is a kaleidoscopic exfoliation of frequencies as one universe is becoming two, but not separated—the effect of cosmosis is entrained, binding two or more frequency universes into proximity where their modal properties interact and blend, creating in the process entirely new microtonal constellations in an omnidirectional simultaneous cosmic order with phenomenologically ‘transfinite’ Poincaré cycles (cyclic returns to initial conditions).”

As with Hennix’s best work, the organic unfolding of this quivering drone belies a precision that opens onto the infinitesimal. Upon its mesmerizing ebb and flow, the vocalists incant a devotional poem written in Arabic by Hennix and featuring quotations from the Quran. Also reproduced on the album’s gatefold jacket, Hennix’s reduction of the sacred text to its most elegant formulation invites the contemplator to bring their inner knowledge to the composition for use as a prompt for meditation. Yet the piece offers depth to even the most secular listener willing to immerse themselves in music brimming with such serene intensity.

Catherine Christer Hennix (b. 1948) started her creative life playing drums with her older brother Peter, growing up in Sweden where she heard jazz luminaries, such as John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Dexter Gordon, Archie Shepp, and Cecil Taylor perform from 1960 to 1967. Directly after high school, Hennix went to work at Stockholm’s pioneering Elektronmusikstudion (EMS), where she developed early tape music, incorporating computer generated speech done at the Royal Technological University (KTH), where she was an undergraduate student. After traveling to New York In 1968, she met artists Dick Higgins and Alison Knowles who invited her to stay at the Something Else Press Town House where she had the opportunity to meet, among others, composers John Cage, James Tenney, and Phil Corner. During the following years she developed fruitful collaborative relationships with many composers in the burgeoning American avant-garde, including, most significantly, Henry Flynt and La Monte Young. Young introduced Hennix to Hindustani raga master Pandit Pran Nath and she would later study intensively under him as his first European disciple. While Hennix continued to make music performing alongside Arthur Russell, Marc Johnson, Henry Flynt, and Arthur Rhames, she also served as a professor of Mathematics and Computer Science at SUNY New Paltz and as a visiting Professor of Logic (at Marvin Minsky’s invitation) at MIT’s Artificial Intelligence Laboratory. In recent years Hennix has led the just-intonation ensemble the Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage, which has featured musicians Amelia Cuni, Amirtha Kidambi, Chiyoku Szlavnics, Hilary Jeffrey, Amir El-Saffar, Benjamin Duboc and Rozemarie Heggen. She currently resides in Istanbul, Turkey pursuing studies in classical Arabic and Turkish makam.

CRESCENT was formed in 1998 by Ismaeel Attallah and Amr Mokhtar in Cairo, Egypt. It started as a Black Metal band influenced by the Swedish Black Metal scene. In 2014, the band released their full-length debut ‘Pyramid Slaves’, focusing on Ancient Egyptian history/mythology, which marked the band’s complete transformation towards Black/Death Metal infused with Egyptian elements. In the following years, CRESCENT was booked to major Metal festivals such as Wacken Open Air, Inferno Metal Festival, Fall of Summer festival among others . 2017 CRESCENT ’s much anticipated second full-length ‘The Order of Amenti’,a tribute to the Ancient Egyptian gods, showed more emphasis on the blackened death Metal epic soundscapes and thematic atmospheres while maintaining its primordial Egyptian Death Metal essence. CRESCENT’s new album 'Carving the Fires of Akhet' was mixed/mastered by Victor ‘Santura’ Bullok (Triptykon, Dark Fortress) at Woodshed studio. The artwork was done by Khaos Diktator (Thron) , which is a Baroque-style recreation of one of the most influential and ancient Egyptian relics. The album title acts as the thread that holds all tracks together. The Fires of Akhet represents the great divine will that was carved into humanity's history and future. A value that brought nations to their apex and brought others to their knees, and the cycle goes on. Lyrically, the album touches upon a primeval epic story that is full of struggle and blood. It also reflects drunkenness with divine power, and pure evil in its religious and historic form (and beyond). Finally, the album lays a dark path of philosophical and material decay. The themes will not only be represented by the sound, but also by artworks that relays the sub-themes. It manifests CRESCENT's growing identity and beyond any of its previous works, starting a new era for the band.

Dead Nature, the solo project of former Spring King singer and prolific producer (The Big Moon, Calva Louise, Circa Waves, Dream Nails, Genghar, Police Car Collective) Tarek Musa, is announcing the release of debut album Watch Me Break Apart, and sharing the video for new single “Hurricane”. It follows the boisterous, sky-high indie-pop dramatics of recent single “Red Clouds”, which drew support from BBC Radio 1, BBC 6 Music, Clash, DIY, Dork, The Line of Best Fit, NME, The Independent, and The i Paper.

Producer and songwriter Tarek Musa has for a long time placed himself at the centre of other artists’ worlds, helping to hone sounds and build scenes through his production work for artists such as The Big Moon, Genghar, and Dream Nails, Calva Louise, Police Car Collective - as well as providing remixes for the likes of Circa Waves. As BBC Radio 1's Jack Saunders noted recently on-air, "we owe a lot to him out here... he's putting the passion from Spring King into the future of the alternative music that we love." With Dead Nature, Musa allows himself to step back from his role as architect for others and set about pursuing his own creative impulses.

Throughout Watch Me Break Apart, internal anxieties are made external, and re-purposed into a carnival of multi-coloured, fuzzed-up indie-pop. The strain of social media and a whirlwind news-cycle compound on the album’s cartwheeling title track, pairing thoughts of sleepless nights with isolated imagery (“A car waits at the lights, no one’s in the driver’s seat / In the ocean stands a tree”). "50 Foot Wall" and the paradoxically light-hearted "Hurricane" were both written against the backdrop of a growing climate crisis, and "Ladlands" zeroes in on social and political struggle, the rate at which change is happening, and the reality-warping nature of the echo-chamber.

Guro Gikling from All We Are sings backing vocals across the whole album, except for Hurricane which Jess Allanic from Calva Louise appears on.

Dead Nature, the solo project of former Spring King singer and prolific producer (The Big Moon, Calva Louise, Circa Waves, Dream Nails, Genghar, Police Car Collective) Tarek Musa, is announcing the release of debut album Watch Me Break Apart, and sharing the video for new single “Hurricane”. It follows the boisterous, sky-high indie-pop dramatics of recent single “Red Clouds”, which drew support from BBC Radio 1, BBC 6 Music, Clash, DIY, Dork, The Line of Best Fit, NME, The Independent, and The i Paper.

Producer and songwriter Tarek Musa has for a long time placed himself at the centre of other artists’ worlds, helping to hone sounds and build scenes through his production work for artists such as The Big Moon, Genghar, and Dream Nails, Calva Louise, Police Car Collective - as well as providing remixes for the likes of Circa Waves. As BBC Radio 1's Jack Saunders noted recently on-air, "we owe a lot to him out here... he's putting the passion from Spring King into the future of the alternative music that we love." With Dead Nature, Musa allows himself to step back from his role as architect for others and set about pursuing his own creative impulses.

Throughout Watch Me Break Apart, internal anxieties are made external, and re-purposed into a carnival of multi-coloured, fuzzed-up indie-pop. The strain of social media and a whirlwind news-cycle compound on the album’s cartwheeling title track, pairing thoughts of sleepless nights with isolated imagery (“A car waits at the lights, no one’s in the driver’s seat / In the ocean stands a tree”). "50 Foot Wall" and the paradoxically light-hearted "Hurricane" were both written against the backdrop of a growing climate crisis, and "Ladlands" zeroes in on social and political struggle, the rate at which change is happening, and the reality-warping nature of the echo-chamber.

Guro Gikling from All We Are sings backing vocals across the whole album, except for Hurricane which Jess Allanic from Calva Louise appears on.

The stunning new soundtrack to the highly anticipated game, ‘The Last of Us Part II’. ‘The Last of Us’ is one of the most successful video games of all time. It sold over 20 million copies worldwide since it was released in 2013. It’s sequel, ‘The Last of Us Part II’ is one of the most anticipated games of 2020 and has already won awards including a Golden Joystick Award, The Game Award and The Game Critics Award. ‘The Last of Us (Original Soundtrack)’, also scored by Gustavo Santaolalla sold more than 25K copies in the UK. Marketing.

Liz Phair announces ‘Soberish’, her highly-anticipated new album and first collection of original
material in eleven years. Produced by Phair’s longtime collaborator Brad Wood - known for helming
Phair’s seminal albums ‘Exile In Guyville’, ‘Whip-Smart’ and ‘whitechocolatespaceegg’ - ‘Soberish’ is
released via Chrysalis Records.
Almost thirty years since her peerless debut album ‘Exile In Guyville’ was released (voted #56 in
Rolling Stone’s 2020 list of the 500 Greatest albums Of All Time), Phair returns with a new record that
will both intrigue and satisfy her long-standing fans and introduce her to a smart young audience
whose contemporary heroes have been reading from Phair’s playbook since they first picked up a
guitar.
Liz Phair has achieved the kind of status in her industry rarely bestowed on recording artists. Her
albums in the 1990s were central to the indie rock canon of the day. Her image was featured in
countless magazines, early Apple commercials and Gap ads. Her eponymous album for Capitol
Records in 2003 took Phair in a pop direction that ruffled some critics’ feathers but nonetheless went
gold, galvanizing a host of new fans, particularly among young women who fell in love with hits like
‘Why Can’t I’ and ‘Extraordinary’, tracks that were featured in several major films and TV shows,
including 13 Going On 30, Raising Helen and How To Deal. Liz has picked up two Grammy
nominations and a spot in Pitchfork’s Greatest Albums Of The 90s, with over five million record sales
to date (including three US gold albums). She sang ‘God Bless America’ at the opening game of the
Chicago White Sox World Series victory in her hometown in 2005.
‘Soberish’ is a portrait of Phair in the present tense, taking all of the facets of her melodic output over
the years and synthesizing them into a beautiful, perfect whole. She’s at the top of her game in the
recording studio, drawing upon years of experience in television composition to weave through the
songs daring and unexpected sound design. With Brad Wood’s exquisite engineering and masterful
production, the result is a wholly fresh yet satisfyingly familiar sound that challenges on the first listen
and seduces with each subsequent play through. The earworms are strong with this one.
Phair says, “I found my inspiration for ‘Soberish’ by delving into an early era of my music development,
my art school years spent listening to Art Rock and New Wave music non-stop on my Walkman. The
English Beat, The Specials, Madness, R.E.M.s Automatic for the People, Yazoo, The Psychedelic
Furs, Talking Heads, Velvet Underground, Laurie Anderson, and the Cars. The city came alive for me
as a young person, the bands in my headphones lending me the courage to explore.”
None of the arrangements on Soberish are traditional songwriting standards but the hooks are so
catchy, the imagery so compelling, that the listener is drawn effortlessly along with the music. There
are the off-kilter, unexpected guitar chords listeners will recognize as her signature style, a mainstay
from her earliest work; the instantly knowable choruses of her most pop-friendly songs of the early
2000s; the frank lyricism and storytelling that has opened doors for countless women picking up
guitars and attempting to speak about their experiences.
Phair shares insight into the meaning of her title: “‘Soberish’ can be about partying. It can be about
self-delusion. It can be a about chasing that first flush of love or, in fact, any state of mind that allows
you to escape reality for a while and exist on a happier plane. It’s not self-destructive or out of control;
it’s as simple as the cycle of dreaming and waking up. That’s why I chose to symbolize ‘Soberish’ with
a crossroads, with a street sign. It’s best described as a simple pivot of perspective. When you meet
your ‘ish’ self again after a period of sobriety, there’s a deep recognition and emotional relief that
floods you, reminding you that there is more to life, more to reality and to your own soul than you are
consciously aware of. But if you reach for too much of a good thing, or starve yourself with too little,
you’ll lose that critical balance.”

Moving into 2021 Pure Space is excited to deliver another year of Australian electronic music. Lately we’ve found therapy through regular body movement to help us see that better days are ahead. We hope you feel this too with this new release…

For our first release of the year, Melbourne’s Third Space captures his most club-focussed exploration to date. It offers a broad path which melts genres, instead showing us an alternate domain.

Having started his own label ‘Nice Setting’ in 2020 and self-releasing an album and an EP, Third Space has established his sound of complex undulating rhythms. For his release on Pure Space, ‘Pattern of Spring’ continues this exploration of dramatic structures with continually shifting timbres - morphing them as they progress through energies, rumbles, and struck surfaces.

The two A-side tracks are powerful displays of organic instrumentation with fluttering pads and subtle resonations. An upbeat tempo and abright atmosphere underpins the opening side, anchored by dnb leaning programming and off-kilter polymetric rhythms.

‘170 Shitshow’ showcases complex percussion underwritten by a formidable resonating karplus-strong section throughout the track. Whilst ‘Pulsing Delay Mod’ builds upon this notion of polymetric rhythms continually at play with one another, it offers a crisp and menacing drum pattern pulsating amongst metallic timbres.

Flipping to the B-sides; ‘Cyclical Pan Workout’ reflects an unruly and evolving atmosphere, anchored by a wonderfully cerebral drum pattern and delicate pad toward the close.

The final track ‘Nonlinear (For Pillows)’ offers re-contextualised melodies and percussion, providing a sense of closure and sonic bookending by linking tones and timbres referenced throughout the EP into a pillow like state.

Divided into two worlds Life? A long narrow path. Anything else? Yes: people and music. That's it, but still. It couldn't get any more narrow than for Ozan Ata Canani.

I've been asking myself all these years: what has he done to deserve that his art is so ignored? The young Ata was a prodigy on the bağlama, the Anatolian long- necked lute. So good that the great Aşik Mahzuni Şerif took him on tour. At that time Ata was just thirteen. Ata's father was suspicious and forbade him to play music.

In the late seventies, the young adult Ata wrote the first song cycle of Anatolian music in German. He wanted to arrive, live in Germany and communicate with the majority society. He wanted to make audible what was going wrong. The lament was only eclipsed by Ata's infectious optimism. His music is a journey that takes its listeners along. He was obviously ahead of his time, because no one wanted to publish these songs. They found no lobby. Not even the utopias of the German counterculture of the sixties did include the so-called guest workers and their art and culture - which is why Ata's parents' generation did not find a connection in the country. Most of them wanted to return home after their work was done. So what was the point of building bridges to the land of the oral cavity surveyors and the screaming foremen? The Anatolian people of Germany had created their own great structure of music dissemination. They were not dependent on the radio and the department stores. They had their own shops, everywhere. Unnoticed by the German music industry and the local media, companies like Türküola in Cologne or Uzelli in Frankfurt turned over millions of records every year. Türküola is the most successful independent label in post-war history. The records and cassettes, later CDs, went over the counters in their own shops, in greengrocers' markets and at electronics hawkers near railway stations.