Suche:d star

Many happy returns to Detroit's Rocksteady Disco, an undeniably consistent label that has reached the ripe old age of ten years old. To celebrate, they're releasing a series of anniversary EPs containing fresh jams from the label's roster of artists. Mainstays Sol Power All Stars get things going with off-kilter Afro-house scorcher 'Solsibisa' - all heavy horns, hot-stepping drum machine beats, squelchy synth-bass and heady vocal snippets - before Eddie Logix combines lightly pitched-down First Choice vocal samples with Balearic guitar bursts and plenty of deep house nous on '2nd Choice (It's Still Not Over)'. Over on the reverse, Blair French gets summery on the Latin-tinged deep house joy of 'Whispers of You', while Topher Horn reaches for dense drums (acoustic and electronic), sparse melodic motifs and heavy bass on 'Gratiot Dub'.

LWS debuts on can you feel the sun. We hear nature being carved like a pumpkin. We hear the exhalation in an easy breath, the inhalation through a morning mist. We hear it’s time to eat and the table is heaving with grapes and custards. We thank the DJs who have been playing this to the moon and the stars and the dancers wide awake.

As with most things, this project started with a conversation in the pub between me and Martin.

As we discussed what J-Walk and BiD could do next we chatted about our mutual love of DIY, Post Punk, Reggae, Digital & Dub, how about using that feel as an initial jump off on the next thing and see how you get on? I suggested.
As is his way Martin considered the suggestion, then promptly disappeared, 6 weeks later something landed in my inbox, it was titled Broken Beauty and the music contained embraced all those symbiotic ideals and culture.
Nailed it!
Recorded entirely in Stockport using a mixed kit bag of cheap forgotten keyboards, guitar, bass and effects pedals, this LP takes the J-Walk aesthetic and applies the wider palette of these influences to create something unique, those past and present influences forged together to bring you something truly DIY - instructions below.
How To Make Such A Thing...

Deactivate social media. Ignore the internet, don't answer text messages, avoid other music, the telly and other people. This is a process where it's only you in the room with whatever's in your mind. You will be there for some time and the loneliness can hurt a little.

Forget any predetermined ideas. Forget everything you've ever done before. This is an opportunity to start from scratch, but with years of accumulated knowledge and craftsmanship. Trust yourself.
Be scared. Be excited about not knowing what will happen and what will result.

Don't use midi sequencing, virtual instruments or samples. Just plug a toy instrument into an amp, press a rhythm and play around to see what happens. If it sounds good and fresh then record it. Plug a bass in to jam around and you'll soon hear and feel what sits in the pocket of the beat. Record it as it is. Dirty is real and good. Cleanliness equals sterility. Loop the bassline. Plug a guitar in and do the same.

Don't think when doing any of this. Just experiment with interest and curiosity and the music will take care of itself. You will now have a groove which is also about half a song minimum. Play some keys from the toys on top of what you have. Put 'em through effects pedals. Again, don't overthink it and don't try to get it clean. Add sound effects in right and random places.

There you go. Something you've never made before. But more importantly, it's something you've never heard before.

You don't have to die to be reincarnated.

BROKEN BEAUTY...You can't be either without also having been the other.

Re-mastered from original mono master tapes.

Limited edition 1000 copies.

180 gr vinyl pressed by Pallas in Germany.

Deluxe high-gloss flipback album jacket.

Facsimile reissue using the original cover art.

Double insert using an original photo by JP Leloir from 1955.

Each record has been visually checked to prevent defects.

Recorded December 27 and 29, 1955 at the Pathé Magellan studio, Paris.

Original LP issue: Barclay 84.023.

After hitting Paris in 1950, saxophonist Bobby Jaspar enthralled jazz fans and jazzmen alike with his smooth, elegant playing, with the lyricism of his tranquil phrases heavily influenced by Stan Getz in particular. So when Jaspar began regularly performing with a small ensemble at the Club St-Germain five years later, he adopted the same instrumentation as that of his idol’s illustrious quintet, with Sacha Distel on guitar and René Urtreger on piano in the roles of Jimmy Raney and Al Haig, respectively.

Contrary to what its title might suggest, ‘Modern Jazz au Club St-Germain’ was actually recorded in the studio. It features compositions by Milt Jackson, Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis along with a handful of standards, in which the angular aridity of bebop gives way to the generous and yet sensitive idiom of cool jazz.

Jaspar’s premature death in 1963 robbed the jazz world of a promising talent; this record is among his best efforts as a leader. Bobby Jaspar is in top form here !!!

Text – Pierre de Chocqueuse

Bobby Jaspar (Tenor Saxophone & Flute)
Sacha Distel (Guitar)
René Urtreger (Piano)
Benoit Quersin (Bass)
Jean-Louis Viale (Drums)

Red Laser continue their prolific purple patch, unpacking four more slabs of red lit Manctolo from a host of box jammers, old and new.

Frank Butters wastes no time at all, 'The Call Of The Wild' engaging photon tubes with a highly kinetic array of crystalline synth shards, thunderous bass and hyperactive sfx. Without geeking out too much, special mention has to go out to the synthesis on display here - Butters advancing up the levels of sonic shamanism as he conjures up never-before-heard patches of interstellar cosmic NRG...

Bob Swans' 'Bodyform4U' unites the robots with a universal message of togetherness. Its multiple layers of shuddering arpeggios and star-aligned synths working in unison to quell any fears and send us off into a space age utopia. One that'll work as well soundtracking the end of the session as it will as the dancefloor's filling up; its subtle anthemic qualities sure to rouse the spirits of even the most dehumanized cyborgs.

New signing Lone Saxon drops 'Hypersleep' which utilises rich piano chords and a hefty breakbeat, switching up the vibe but keeping things super uplifting. This one reminds us of that innocent period when you could get on the megabus for 50p and score three for a tenner on the dancefloor. An evocative vocal refrain adds a moment of thoughtful introspection in between the e-rushes and arm-raising for another moment of interactive harmony.

Finally, 'Webo' sees Franz Scala (with a little help from Il Bosco) return to source, delivering a bona fide slice of maximum balls out MANCTALO chug. With tension-wrought chord progressions, delicious layers of lead melodies and a soaring vocal, there's few that can resist the charms of this late night electro-disco hyper anthem.

All aboard the starship !

RL x

When the quartet of Luke Martin, Gabriel Salomon, Klaus Janek and Andy Graydon gathered to record an afternoon of sessions in Andy's studio, it was both the result of years of cultivation and an afterthought. Klaus and Andy had been long-time, and now long-distance, collaborators since their shared years in Berlin. That city was also where Andy was introduced to Gabriel at one of his solo performances by their mutual friend, the painter Paul McDevitt. Years passed, and cities. After meeting and working together in Boston, Luke and Andy both found themselves transplanted to Minneapolis. And by happenstance Gabriel arrived a few years later. A new conversation was just starting to emerge when Klaus announced his arrival, stopping by on a North American tour. Suddenly the four got a chance to listen and play together performing on a bill at a local gallery, in one configuration or another, for the first time. Packing up after that show, Klaus leaned over to ask, "isn't there a moment we could meet again, to play?"

Nothing was expected, and so anything was possible. The circumstances lent their gathering an impromptu but grounded feeling, a unique mix of chance encounter and reunion. As befits an opening encounter, the focus was as often on listening to the unfolding sonic conversation as it was on making a recording. Everyone seemed to intuit the direction despite not knowing where they were headed. The four faced each other in a loose circle surrounded by speakers and microphones pointed haphazardly, as likely to catch the dog padding around curiously as the bowing of strings or rattling of a cymbal. The permissive spirit of the day was declared early, just before rolling, when Gabriel asked if we should close the studio windows or leave them open. "You know what my answer is," replied Luke. If it's in the nature of a recording to become fixed, to be bottled up, let us at least leave open the windows to hear what might be coming next.

Belén Natalí, Argentinian artist based in Barcelona and known for her extensive international career in the field of reggae and sound system culture, starts a new project where she navigates organically in pop/lo-fi rhythms with R&B reminiscences and jazz without forgetting his nods to Jamaican music. Her EP Jacarandà (Say it Loud Records & Costa Futuro, 2023) is quite a declaration of intent that features the collaborations of Ferran Palau and Santa Salut on two of the cuts. Belén, inaugurates a new stage in her musical career with musicians and producers such as Genis Trani or Hoss Benitez and Enric Peinado from the groove combo Big Menu.

‘Trust The Stars’ is the brilliant new album by Chicago-based The O’My’s that comes via HiyaSelf Recordings – the label founded by legendary DJ & producer Nightmares On Wax.

Comprising of Chicago natives Nick Hennessey and Maceo Vidal-Haymes – the duo channel their experiences into gritty, genre-bending music that grabs listeners with its sound & forms a rich palette of sonic influences through soul, hip-hop, lo-fi, alt-R&B, jazz & washed-out psychedelia.

Having worked with some of the biggest names in the industry, including Chance the Rapper, Noname, Saba, and Mick Jenkins, the new album is no different - featuring a host of esteemed collaborations including tracks with Children of Zeus’ Konny Kon; the incredible poet & singer Jamila Woods, fast becoming a leading light in the alt-R&B & neo-soul scenes; and the Pitchfork championed Southern rapper Pink Siifu.

Born out of a period of experimentation and endless creation, the forthcoming album explores themes of love, loss, and personal rediscovery, with a maturity and depth that reflects the duo's years of experience.

Unbound by place or genre, mercurial, experimental pop duo Soft as Snow find freedom to intuitively reflect the disarray of human connection with their intricate, shape-shifting pop production. With each successive release, the duo evolves, unfurling into their own poetic sound, now fully realized on their intimate, third full-length, Metal.wet.

The oft-present trappings of male-female duos are eschewed here as the Berlin-based Oda Starheim and Øystein Monsen contribute equally across a canvas of analogue synthesizers, samplers, live drums, and processed guitars. At once a part of and yet apart from the zeitgeist, their forward-thinking modernity stretches the limits of expectations across Metal.wet's ten insouciant tracks. Fans of Tirzah, Hype Williams, and even Angelo Badalamenti will find much to love in this haunting work peppered with ASMR moments and rough sampling wrapped in high production –– twinkling glasses and sirens in the distance, rhythms and voices up front. The result is synth-driven, noisy, and dripping with laidback, confident sensuality.

Although Starheim's voice begins the album in a whisper, it quickly becomes apparent that the group has jettisoned their previous tendency to bury and distort her vocals. Nested in a bed of thorny electronics and broken rhythms, her multifaceted vocals might bring to mind Kazu Makino of Blonde Redhead or Hope Sandoval fronting Massive Attack. London MC Brother May (Mica Levi, CURL) makes an appearance on the driving and ethereal “Whip,” while Øystein’s own voice appears for the first time in a state of languid background haze.

Soft as Snow create and record across Europe. Defiantly averse to genre, the pair become vessels for their “electronic music pushed to the brink of collapse” (The Wire), previously released by Infinite Machine and Houndstooth. Informed by backgrounds in film and performance art, “there’s a surrealism that comes with watching Soft as Snow in the flesh,” (Vice) as seen at L.E.V. and Lunchmeat Festivals. Collaborations with visual artist Guynoid, designer AGF Hydra, and sculptor Camilla Steinum add depth to the corporeality of their “strange, mesmerising and utterly unforgettable” electronic experimentations. (DJ Mag).

All Is Chaos by Stake, released 1 November 2024, includes the following tracks: "The Calling", "Stargazing", "Trapped", "Drowning In Your Blood" and more.

Repress! The Doors Of Perception Is Presented In A Unique Blue Swirl Colored Vinyl Pressing / "The Doors of Perception" is among the most experimental and innovative releases by famed jazz vibraphonist Dave Pike. Recorded in 1966 and released in 1970, the album finds Pike indulging in full-fledged psychedelic jazz, with trippy grooves and a new sound. Produced by Herbie Mann, "The Doors of Perception" features an all-star cast of musicians, including Eddie Daniels, Lee Konitz, Don Friedman, and Chuck Israel. Their talents are complemented by a wide range of sound effects, from echo chambers to piped-in applause to thunderstorms to fuzzy distortion, making for a dynamic and unique listening experience.

In the heart of Offenbach, where the city's pulse synchronizes with the beat of the night, stands the illustrious Robert Johnson Club. For a quarter of a century, it has stood as a bastion of sonic exploration, a sanctuary for those who seek solace in the rhythm, and a beacon of inspiration for the global electronic music community. As it proudly raises its glass to toast 25 years of unrivaled musical excellence, the echoes of countless memories reverberate through its storied halls. To honor this landmark anniversary, „Live at Robert Johnson“ presents a kinda like masters blueprint of sound: "Tell Me Something Good - 25 Years of Famous When Dead!" This compilation, aptly named after the club's mantra, serves not only as a celebration of its rich history but also as a testament to the enduring legacy of the artists who have graced its stage. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, each track on the compilation is a sonic journey unto itself—a symphony of beats and melodies that weave together to tell the story of Robert Johnson's evolution over the past quarter-century. From the pulsating rhythms of underground techno to the ethereal melodies of deep house, the compilation encapsulates the club's eclectic spirit and unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of electronic music. But beyond the music lies something deeper—an intangible energy that permeates every aspect of Robert Johnson's existence. It's the sense of camaraderie that binds together the club's patrons and artists alike, the shared experience of losing oneself in the music, and the profound sense of belonging that transcends language and culture. As the compilation reverberates through the speakers, it serves as a rallying cry—a call to arms for all who have ever felt the transformative power of music. It's a reminder that, even in the darkest of times, there is beauty to be found in the simple act of coming together and losing oneself in the rhythm of the night. So let us raise our voices in celebration of Robert Johnson Club and the indelible mark it has left on the world of electronic music. Here's to 25 years of passion, of creativity, and of "something good" that will echo through the ages for generations to come.

lorence Besch legt eine musikalische Entwicklung in Meilenstiefeln hin. In ihrem zweiten Album „Gathering Hearts“ sublimiert sie ihre Fähigkeit, fragile Ehrlichkeit direkt aus der Mitte des Herzens in rohe Power zu transformieren. So schwappt einem ein aufbrausendes, dreamy Gitarrenmeer mit von ihr gewohnt starken, echten Lyrics entgegen.
In einer einzigartigen Mischung aus 90s Shoegaze und Indie Rock, gespickt mit vielen zärtlichen Popmomenten, formt Besch ihr ureigenes Genre – Dream Grunge.
Inspiration findet sie bei Legenden wie PJ Harvey, Courtney Loves Band „Hole“ und Nirvana.

Auf dieser Tribute-Compilation finden sich Interpretationen von Margo-Guryan-Songs von TOPS, Rahill, Clairo, June McDoom, MUNYA und Kainalu, Frankie Cosmos und Good Morning, Kate Bollinger, Pearl & The Oysters, Bedouine und Sylvie, Empress Of, Barrie, und Margo Price. Die meisten unserer Geschichten über Kultmusiker, die ein oder zwei Alben machen und dann zu verschwinden scheinen, sind von Trauer, Verzweiflung und ausgefranstem Ehrgeiz umrahmt. Nicht so bei Margo Guryan, einer begeisterten Jazz-Ausnahmeerscheinung, die Popmusik verachtete, bis sie 1966 „God Only Knows“ hörte, das ihr ein Fenster zu den Wundern öffnete, die diese Musik-Form enthalten konnte. Nur zwei Jahre später veröffentlichte sie auf dem Album „Take a Picture“ ihre eigenen kleinen Popsinfonien und erntete dafür großes Lob und hohe Erwartungen. Aber da sie sich bereits von dem Posaunisten Bob Brookmeyer hatte scheiden lassen, lehnte sie es ab, ein Musikerleben zu führen und auf Tournee zu gehen oder auch nur darüber zu sprechen. Ihre Zurückhaltung führte dazu, dass „Take a Picture“ bald in den Regalen der Discounter und letztlich in den Mülleimern landete. Sie schrieb weiterhin Songs und nahm noch jahrelang auf, arbeitete sogar mit der Band von Neil Diamond zusammen, aber meistens schien sie mit ihrem relativ privaten Leben zufrieden zu sein. Wie es sich für eine so atemberaubende und subtile Musik gehört, erlebte die 2021 verstorbene Guryan in den letzten sechs Jahrzehnten mehrere Wiederauferstehungen. Und jetzt geschieht es wieder: Kurz nachdem ihre fast geflüsterte und liebeskranke Hymne „Why Do I Cry“ sie 2021, im selben Jahr, in dem sie starb, zum TikTok-Star machte, startete die Numero Group eine Wiederveröffentlichungskampagne, aus der 2024 das hochgelobte Set „Words and Music“ hervorging. Und jetzt haben ein Dutzend Künstler - von denen keiner geboren war, als „Take a Picture“ entstand - das gesamte Album (plus einen Bonustrack) für „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ neu interpretiert. Empress Of, Margo Price, Clairo, June McDoom: Sie alle bestätigen Guryans Schärfe als Songwriterin und die Brillanz eines Albums, das den Werbezyklus, den Guryan vor so langer Zeit ablehnte, bei weitem übertroffen hat. Guryan wurde in einer weitläufigen Familie in Far Rockaway geboren, als der Ort noch größtenteils von Bäumen umrahmt war. Während ihres Kompositionsstudiums an der Boston University stolperte Guryan in einen Auftritt als Pianistin zwischen den Konzerten des Miles Davis Quintet, unterschrieb einen Vertrag als Songwriterin bei Atlantic Records und verpatzte eine Session mit Nesuhi Ertegun. Aber sie war nicht darauf aus, ein Gesangsstar zu werden. 1959 ging sie an die Lenox School of Jazz in den Berkshires, um für Ornette Coleman und Don Cherry zu schreiben, die Aufmerksamkeit des Dozenten Max Roach zu gewinnen und in Gunther Schuller einen langjährigen Mentor und Freund zu finden. Sie wurde eine versierte Texterin und schrieb nicht nur für Coleman und Nancy Harrow, sondern auch für Harry Belafonte und Gary MacFarland. Aber es war die spätere Begegnung mit den Beach Boys, die Guryan die Tür zu „Take a Picture“ und einer Reihe anderer großartiger Songs öffnete, von denen viele auf „Words and Music“ erschienen sind. „Take a Picture“ ist eine ausgefeilte Bestandsaufnahme der Romantik und Unentschlossenheit der Mittzwanziger, vom koketten Treiben in „Sunday Morning“ und der Verliebtheit in „Can You Tell“ bis zur verzweifelten Hilflosigkeit in „What Can I Give You“. Ihre ewig weiche Stimme, ihre kühne Songkunst und ihre völlige Offenheit: Guryan machte 1968 und darüber hinaus gewagte Musik, egal wie sanft sich diese Klänge zu bewegen schienen. „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ unterstreicht die Stärke von Guryans Liedern, indem es einem Dutzend verschiedener Künstler erlaubt, sie auf ihre eigene Reise mitzunehmen. Im Laufe der letzten Jahrzehnte ist immer deutlicher geworden, wie gut Guryan war, wie stabil ihre Lieder inmitten der wechselnden Geschmacksrichtungen. „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ ist eine absolute Bestätigung, ein Zeugnis für die anhaltende Relevanz und Brillanz von Guryans Arbeit. Ein Teil des Erlöses dieses Albums wird für die Bereitstellung von und den Einsatz für erschwingliche reproduktive Gesundheitsdienste gespendet.

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?