quête:d weed

Real people music recorded at a Quaker Boarding school in the mid-'70s. Mixing soft psych, vocal jazz, and sunshine soul, Shira Small and her high school music teacher Lars Clutterham created a peerless artifact of outsider magic. Imagination, wonder, the existential dread of Vietnam and math class and getting caught smoking weed in Nixon's America... it's all here. Is your life alright?

Paper Route Frank is the first posthumous studio album from legendary Memphis, TN figurehead, rapper and mogul, Young Dolph. Gone from us way too soon, the album serves as a testament to the larger than life person and leader that Dolph was, illustrated in tracks such as “Hall of Fame,” “Get Away,” & “Love For The Streets.”

At 13 tracks, the album features appearances from PRE labelmates Key Glock, Big Moochie Grape & Snupe Bandz, and taps heavyweight guests in 2 Chainz & longtime collaborator Gucci Mane, who in many ways helped provide the blueprint for Dolph’s own illustrious career. A truly independent foundation in the rap game and unquestionably one of one individual, we may never see another artist like Young Dolph. Long Live Dolph Forever.

Bambara's first song-oriented full length release, recorded by Ben Greenberg (Uniform) and featuring some of the band's most dynamic live-set favorites ("All the Ugly Things," "Her Sister Touya," "I Don't Mind"), is comprehensively remixed to put the audio fidelity on par the band's later output.

SLW cc Watt is an inspired collaboration between prolific singer/
songwriter/illustrator Samuel Locke Ward and SoCal punk legend
bassist/singer Mike Watt - After the head-spinning fun of 2021's Let's
Build a Logjam and 2022's Real Manic Time, on the new Purple Pie Plow, the duo corral guests throughout the record: saxophonist Bob Bucko Jr, along with drummer Dean Clean, and guitarist Joe Jack Talcum from the sardonic punk band The Dead Milkmen.

ESSENTIAL laut The Rough Guide To Reggae! Das berühmteste Album der Band von 1977 wird jetzt offiziel als LP im Original-Coverartwork wiederveröffentlicht! Hier handelt es sich um einen echten Klassiker der in keiner Vinyl-Abteilung fehlen darf.

Pressed On Clear Vinyl! 'We are the planters of the weeds or roses in our garden. Take the plunge within yourself to find The Main Ingredient.' So reads CL Smooth's album dedication in the liners to Pete Rock & CL's underrated, soulful and deeply grooving sophomore album. For fans, it was bittersweet, as it would be their last as a duo. By 1994, Pete and CL were darlings of both fans and critics, still on a high after 1992's Mecca & The Soul Brother and the album's emotional smash single 'They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.).' Two years later, they had grown even more as men and artists. Gone was some of the righteous striving of their earlier work, replaced by mature - yet still righteous - wisdom. And a lot more love as well, bringing a larger female constituency into their fanbase. They were adults now, reveling in the plateau they had reached. The duo's '90s swan song is a powerful double album that still resonates with Golden Era hip-hop fans: 16 cuts deep and full of intelligence, fire and warmth. Beats-per-minute-wise, the album mostly clocks at a comfortable strutting pace, bolstered by Pete Rock's pioneering use of filtered basslines and a recently-hatched obsession with Rhodes piano. The new tracks filled speakers and headphones with soul, as CL continued to assert his lyrical prowess all throughout. The lead single, 'I Got A Love,' is a perfect example of the group's '94 steez: a super-catchy and respectful, but far-from-soft love track, suitable for any rap fan's romantic needs. 'Take You There' and 'Carmel City' cover similar ground. Considering CL Smooth's top-level brag rapper status, cuts like 'I Get Physical,' 'Get On The Mic' and 'Check It Out' effectively reminded competitors not to test him. Pete also gets in the game on the mic several times on the album, acquitting himself nicely (and solo) on the cloudy day soul of 'Escape,' alongside other cuts. Add more pensive lyrical forays like 'All The Places,' 'Searching,' and - perhaps the album's sleeper cut - 'It's On You' and you have one of the more complete rap full-lengths of the mid-1990s. This isn't surprising, considering the wonder twins-esque skills of Pete and CL. But it does make fans wonder what would have happened if they had stayed together longer.

















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Salt Peter, by Ruby (AKA Lesley Rankine), was originally released in 1995 to critical acclaim under the trip-hop and electronica tags,

quickly becoming the soundtrack to many a student, clubber and vinyl junkie’s life.



Roll on 25 years to find Rankine & her brother, Scott Firth (bassist with PIL) in Covid lockdown together following the death of their mother. What else would they do but make some music?



So, while noodling around with some ideas one night, Rankine remade one of her old Salt Peter songs and was so pleased with the result she decided to do the whole album.



Rather than simply remixing or remastering the original album she decided to rebuild it from the ground up with completely new production, arrangements and vocals.

With Scott’s additional production, engineering and mixing, Salt Peter 25 is a completely different album from the original, but still with Rankine’s distinctive vocals

and her ear for the quirky and the dark. With densely textured sounds and uncompromising arrangements, Salt Peter has matured into an exciting new and unique animal.



Salt Peter 25 is a deeply personal album, created during a very difficult time and so the cover, fittingly, features a striking photo of Lesley and Scotts’ mother,

as well as other family photos, again echoing the aesthetics of the original album.



Now released on delicious orange double vinyl with a beautiful gatefold sleeve, featuring additional art by Toronto based designer, Henry Faber.

International super group Bokanté, led by Grammy-winning Snarky Puppy founder Michael League, are set to release a brand-new studio album, History, via Real World Records consisting of nine tracks celebrating black history, global unity and the futility of war. The first single “Adjoni” is out today and you can watch the song’s official video below.

Consisting of members from five countries and four continents, different genders, races and generations working in harmony and celebrating individuality, Bokanté are united in the belief that music should be a voice for the voiceless. Recalling rhythms from West Africa as well as those of Guadeloupe’s drum-centric Gwo ka, lead single “Adjoni” is a story of a life on the spectrum and of brilliance in the margins; the lyrics of “Iliminé” speak to the protective properties of love, offer a mantra to keep us joyful regardless.

History finds them exploring further, dressing folkloric instruments including the Arabic oud, West African ngoni and North African guembri, the bass lute favored by Morocco’s Gnawa maalems, in western clothes. Interweaving layers of percussion with all the nuanced skill expected of four percussion maestros: André Ferrari of Swedish folk renegades Väsen. Ex-Berklee music professor Jamey Haddad (Sting, Paul Simon). Nagasaki-raised, New York-based Keita Ogawa (Cecile McLorin Salvant). Ghanaian-New Orleanian drum king Weedie Braimah (Christian Scott), a special guest on What Heat, a vital band member now.

In the 1980s, Michael Morley helped to push the jangly New Zealand music scene towards rougher, more exploratory realms, as a member of Wreck Small Speakers on Expensive Stereos, The Weeds, and the almighty Dead C. His gnarled, distorted guitar tone and aggressively moan-based vocal style are both as distinctive as they are secretly beautiful. Morley has released dozens of solo recordings—starting in the late 1980s as Gate, then more recently under his own name, and as the Righteous Yeah. He’s also unafraid to tackle entirely new genres and sounds, and to move into interactive installation-based music as well. Birdman is beyond excited to present the first vinyl release of this archival Gate release. “...I think it is classic Gate material. The idea of the palette is fascinating as I think I did approach it with a set of limited instrumentation and the desire to make something again that could sound like rock music. There is certainly a direct line from Wreck Small Speakers On Expensive Stereos, through the Dead C, and to Gate. I think I was also inspired by listening to infamous and tragically short-lived early 1980s band the Double Happys, and remembering their performances as a duo with the drum machine. There was such utter chaos and anarchy during their sets, with a desire to represent punk rock at its nascent truth, I wanted to see if it was possible to re- imagine that feeling. I was possibly also listening to the Stooges and MC5. —Michael Morley

Nazamba & Dubsetters kicked off this new Finnish Dub & Sound label in a superb style recently and what better way to follow that up than with the reggae master, smoking king and weed aficionado Linval Thompson. This might sound like one of his classic lost cuts from the 70s but it is actually an all new tune from the Jamaican reggae icon. Dubsetters provide the gentle, percussive rhythms which are organic and deep, with Linval's smooth mic work up top adding to the global conversation about the decriminalization of cannabis. Flip it over for an even more mellow and dubbed out sound on the b-side.

Alternative Hip Hop Artist Rebel ACA Channels his Pain in "Migraine" ft. Spragga Benz, Rodney P

LONDON - The word "migraine" can make you twinge, especially if you experience the pounding head, vertigo, and tinnitus associated with migraines. Imagine if you put all those feelings into music - that is what Rebel ACA did with his latest single, "Migraine."

Rebel ACA's new single flows through his twenty-year journey of advising on international tax by day and rapping and producing by night. Perhaps, the ACA stands for his accounting qualification.

Dropping in April, there will be two versions, an original version and a DJ Phantasy Remix of "Migraine" on streaming platforms. Depending on the version, "Migraine" is a musical representation of a severe headache. The drum and bass mix features a funky, constant drone throughout the track, while the original version is a funk-latent hip-hop song.

"I suffer very badly from migraines every week," said Rebel ACA. "To me, it was logical to write a song about migraines. The lyrics talk about what it feels like by using synthesizers to bring out the feeling of a migraine."

Joining Rebel ACA on the single is Spragga Benz and Rodney P. The duo shares their thoughts on using marijuana to cure a migraine. While Rebel ACA acknowledges he is not a medical doctor, studies have shown that smoking weed can reduce migraine pain.

"We talk about smoking weed to fight the migraine," he said. "The lyrics revolve around what it feels like to have one in your head. Doctors have told me that migraines are caused by triggers like alcohol and getting f*cked up. Then you get a migraine and now you get more f*cked up on pills or weed to feel better." This revolving cycle spirals throughout the single.

Born and raised in the UK, Rebel ACA experienced London's musical melting pot from birth. Hailing from northwest London, he was exposed to the rich Caribbean influence and massive underground music scene.

From squat parties to illegal raves, London's music was all mashed up, and Rebel ACA soaked up every genre and cultural influence. As a result, he is a successful singer/songwriter/producer who fuses hip hop, reggae, and indie sounds to create his unique style.

"Where I come from, the UK hip hop is like the 90s hip hop in America," he stated. "There is a hip hop scene that talks about poetry. I'm trying to keep it real with my lyrics and talk about things that are important other than guns, money, and bitches."

Rebel ACA's music is versatile but uniquely his own by utilizing numerous live instruments and coming in hard with a big boom-bap sound. The Rebel ACA sound is born by adding a funk influence on his tracks aligned with funky bass. On "Migraine," he uses some vintage 70s French influence vibes to give the single a flavor of its own. There is nothing out there like "Migraine."

Rebel ACA records under Buttercuts Records, a company he owns and operates. The London-based production company has been "bashing out buttery beats" since 2000. Buttercuts Records is the go-to place for releasing hip hop, reggae, breaks, funk, soul, and folk records with a tongue-in-cheek attitude and marketing that surpasses witty wordplay.

As "Migraine" gains international attention, it is easy to understand how Rebel ACA combines old and new hip hop with effortless flows and brilliant lyrics. Maybe the world is ready for an international tax advisor who drops bars and vibes out to some wicked rhymes.

Make sure to stay connected to Rebel ACA on all platforms for new music, videos, and social posts.

a A1. DJ PHANTASY VOCAL MIXfeat. Rebel ACA
b A2. DJ PHANTASY DUB MIXfeat. Rebel ACA
[c] A3. DJ PHANTASY INSTRUMENTAL MIX [feat. Rebel ACA]
[d] B1. OLD KOOL F U NKY MIX [feat. Rebel ACA]
[e] B2. OLD KOOL F U NKY INSTRUMENTAL [feat. Rebel ACA]
[feat. Rebel ACA]

Repressed again. On the West Coast, gangsta rap held sway in hip-hop as the 21st century began. The alternative and conscious rap music of the early-to-mid-90s had all but faded into the underground. The scene was set for a comeback, perhaps as a backlash to the perceived violence and misogyny of gangsta rap's content. Leading the resurgence of alternative hip-hop were groups like Jurassic 5, and recent signees to Capitol Records; a West coast trio that had been building steam underground since the early 90s called Dilated Peoples. Anticipation was high for the release of the debut album from Evidence, Rakaa, and DJ Babu. (Of the influential turntablist collective Beat Junkies.) When The Platform arrived in May of 2000 it was met with critical and underground acclaim, as well as affording Dilated Peoples their first Billboard chartings. It featured a back-to-basics sound with a heavy debt to the old-school hip-hop ethos, the kind of sound that harkened back to the early days of legends like De La Soul & A Tribe Called Quest. Hits like "No Retreat" and "The Platform" were bolstered by Evidence & Rakaa's subtle, abstract wit, and swift, adroit wordplay, while DJ Babu provided production chops and dextrous scratches. On The Platform the trio were joined by the likes of B-Real, Tha Alkoholiks, Everlast, Planet Asia, and many more providing guest vocals, while boasting guest production from The Alchemist & Kut Masta Kurt, among others. Since its 2000 release this influential record, which heralded the return of alternative hip-hop, has never seen a vinyl reissue. With that, Get On Down-always on top of giving the greatest hip-hop albums their due-is proud to present this re-release of The Platform. The rhymes are still fresh, the production is still pristine, and the album is now back on vinyl for the first time in 17 years.

"Bernhard von Siluh Records hat mich gebeten, einen Hype-Text über die neue BAD WEED-Platte zu formulieren, und ich fühlte mich zunächst geschmeichelt, hatte dann aber doch Zweifel... Wie kann ich euch dieses Powerpop-Juwel in wenigen Worten erklären und näher bringen? Es ist nicht nur das übliche Jangle-Pop-Ding oder noch schlimmer, nicht etwas, das man heutzutage "Garage-Punk" nennt, nein, Sir! Es ist echter Powerpop im Stil der 70er Jahre, aber wie mein Chef immer zu sagen pflegt: Man kann den Leuten nicht erzählen, wie großartig eine Powerpop-Platte ist - man muss sie sich anhören, am besten mit einem Getränk der Wahl in der Hand, und bald wird sie ihre Besonderheit enthüllen (oder auch nicht). Was liebe ich an BAD WEED, außer der Tatsache, dass sie die hübschesten Jungs der Welt sind, die - nachdem sie 20 Jahre lang in verschiedenen Bands gespielt haben - endlich gelernt haben, ihre Instrumente zu spielen? Es sind die Songs! Es geht nur um die Songs! Die erste Single aus dem Jahr 2015 war etwas anderes, man kann es sogar Garagenpop nennen, ihr Debütalbum vor ein paar Jahren und etwa 100 Shows später war nur der Anfang, hier ist ihr zweites Album mit dem schlichten Titel "II", das Talent, Songwriting-Fähigkeiten und Pop-Handwerkskunst zeigt! Einige dieser 12 Originalsongs erinnern mich an Alben/Bands, die längst vergessen sind, wie z.B. "If you ever pt. 1" könnte eine frühe THE FRESHIES-Single sein, "Breaking Lines" könnte von einer RUDI-Setlist sein oder "Who's gonna love me" klingt wie einer dieser THE COLD-Ohrwürmer. Die meisten Songs haben diesen 80er-Jahre-UK-Indie-Punk-Vibe, der direkt in mein Gehirn und mein Herz geht! Sie haben sogar die Frechheit, TOWNES VAN ZANDT zu covern - und schaffen es, dass es nicht so deprimierend klingt wie das Original, nur ein bisschen traurig vielleicht. Zu behaupten, dies sei ein Wohlfühlalbum, ist nicht ganz richtig, so einfach ist es nicht. Es ist eine Platte, die Lust macht, die Band in einem kleinen Club live zu sehen, eine Platte, die einen einfach lächeln lässt und an gute Zeiten erinnert. BAD WEED ist eine Band für die Hosentasche, eine Band, die man liebt und von der man Freunden erzählen möchte, aber nicht zu vielen, denn die Band sollte klein und in der Hosentasche bleiben und nicht in den Playlists von jedem Tom, Dick und Harry vorkommen_" (Elmar / Bachelor Records) "Debüt-Scheiblette von Wiens Blitzpopgroup. Mitreißender Powerpop-Punk mit ganz viel early UK- vs semi-modern Texas-Sound in den Venen. Buzzcocks , Exploding Hearts, The Jam, Bad Sports, Marked Men, .... Schweine-tight gespielte, tolle Melodien, die einen sofort abholen, bissi Saxophon hier und Orgel da!! Die Platte strotzt vor Energie und Spielfreude, findet einen steilen Breakeven zwischen Witz, Charme und Klassenbewusstsein. Stark!" (FLIGHT13)

Available on limited-edition orange tiger vinyl. 300 copies only! Be prepared to be blown to shit as the action/adventure GREEN TEAM, Calvin Valentine & Lawz Spoken, join forces once again! Calvin Valentine (Weeds is Awesome, Boy In Jeans) stars as TIGER, a P-38 driving, pot-smoking bat out of hell. Alongside Tiger is international, silent assassin mega-star Lawz Spoken starring as COBRA, a badass with a bad attitude and an even badder chip on his shoulder. Hop in the range with GREEN TEAM as they go on the hunt for the world's finest weed, exotic trucks, remote locations & rarest vhs tapes. Scorned by betrayal from friends, enemies, bad business & heartbreak, the duo is left with no other option but to seek absolute REVENGE. Joining them on the journey are co stars - Illa J (ICE), Milc (WOLF), Nia Joe (FOX) & on-set dj, Celly. Revenge is a disease and Green Team has the cure! Jammed with incredible special effects REVENGE OF THE TIGER is an exhilarating mix of non stop action, bong rips & romantic comedy.
Now available on limited-edition (300 pcs) orange tiger vinyl, REVENGE OF THE TIGER is: "All that and a bag of grass" - Surfer Chick Magazine.

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

Portland's premiere purveyors of kraut-inflected party rock return with an
album's worth of tunes crammed into an extended playing set
The eponymous lead track bursts out of the gate with ebullience. Lee Ritter's
rhythms and Cord Amato's riffs fit comfortably in the space where Kraftwerk left
off and DEVO began. "Artificial Head" may be about a Fleshlight, or it could be a
paperback sci-fi-derived weed fantasy. You could listen to Møtrik while sober, but
why would you do that? Next up is the measured and groovy "Castle Electric"
which features a dialog between bassist/vocalist Erik Golts and a sexy computer.
His German is easily as good as her English and one wonders how the night
ended after she switched the lights "auf." Side one completes with "Unifox" built
up from a Dave Fulton synth composition into a full- fledged Møtrik track, this
being the first time the band has bucked its contrarian vision of a band that jams
in its own professional recording studio yet refuses to produce itself. "Outer
Reaches" is the patiently awaited sidelong epic. The contemplative and
exploratory scene begins with chirrups from an analog swamp, then slowly rises
through the hazy pastel atmosphere on a crystalline bubble before blasting off
into full- fledged Floydian outer space psych. As always, Møtrik colors between
the lines, applying its overall aesthetic to rock music, which is to say it's the
FORTRAN approach to basement partying. Artificial Head is just what your body
needs to feel complete. Pressed on Light Green Color vinyl.

Continuing the succesful V.38 here you have the Vol.2, 27 special cuts and tracks of the most influence Rapper of all the times, DR DRE, helped for the more importants stars of Hip Hop like 50 CENT, SNOOP DOG, Lil Wayne, Jay-Z... This is a special and powerful weapon for all the Hip Hop creators and DJ's.

Wiederveröffentlichung des Greensleeves Longplayer von 1984. Am Mischpult saß Phillip Smart (neben Scientist und Prince Jammy der dritte Meisterschüler von King Tubby), mit den Musikern Bass: Paul Henton, Drums: Donny Marshall, Guitar: Errol Moore, Guitar Lead: Donovan McKitty, Keyboards: William Brown, Horns: Derek Hinds. Der Titelsong ist ein absoluter 'Classic Tune' der Reggae-Historie und basiert auf Jackie Mittoos 'Hot Milk' Riddim.

The liminal space between storytelling and dreaming is full of noise. Like whispers, flickering lines of static travel to the rhythm of tension, moving through moments of stillness and chaos. The sharp details of the hyper-personal become shared memories.

Dreams can be stories, their fabric transient and their logic malleable - like folk songs carrying ancient knowledge or clairvoyant wisdom.

White Dove Dream tells a story that only sound can. One that defies language and closed narrative; a story that is both a personal rumination and collective conversation.

There are layers of healing synthesis and dream logic improvisation; captured recordings coalesce somewhere beneath the scramble like deja vu. Like a diary entry, or a manifesto - noise is folk music and Icebear is noisy.

Icebear is Eilis Mahon, a sound artist from Kildare, Ireland.

White Dove Dream is her debut release on Weeding - an independent label and collective of friends based primarily in Dublin, Ireland, who love to make and share noise.

Recent play of “Funny Games / Garfield” on Pure Soil - NTS.

If it's really a post-genre world, why does everything sound the same? The two halves of Tampa rap duo They Hate Change_Dre (he/him) and Vonne (they/them)_first came together in front of the apartment complex where they both lived as teens. Dre had just moved down from Rochester, NY; Vonne was trying to sell him bad weed. It was clear from the start that the two listen to music differently from most people_they're sonic omnivores, obsessive deep-divers, lovers of rare and radical sounds. Starting as kids trawling the internet for tracks, they've been collecting music from around the world and across the decades, amassing a shared sonic knowledge so deep that "encyclopedic" barely begins to cover it _ not just the East Coast hip-hop that Dre grew up on, or the hyperlocal bass-music variants like jook (the Gulf Coast's twerkably raunchy answer to house) and crank (think "Miami bass meets NOLA bounce"), but also drum `n' bass, Chicago footwork, post-punk, prog (they're, like, seriously into prog), grime, krautrock, emo, and basically any genre on the map. Once they graduated to DJs on the Tampa DIY scene _ which includes everything from punk rock house parties to the black "teen nights" that pop up in rec centers and ballrooms _ they figured out how to pull all these disparate sounds together into a cohesive style. More importantly, they figured out how to make it something people will actually move to. When they made the transition to rapping and making beats, they brought that pleasure-seeking approach to sonic experimentation with them. "With this album, Vonne says, "it's really like, okay, you know how you talk about the internet breaking down borders? Here's what that actually sounds like. It's not just a hip-hop record with a couple more weird sounds. You want homegrown DIY? This is a record that was written, produced, and recorded in a 150-squarefoot bedroom from the least cool city you could think of." Finally, New is what a truly post-genre musical landscape is supposed to be: building deep connections that transcend outdated distinctions between them, spilling over with the joy of exploration and possibility, and daring other artists to think broader, go deeper, take bigger risks. Let the rest of them keep playing by the old rules_They Hate Change will keep changing the game.

Super deep n’ rolling ambient junglist mutations from hyped cloakroom attendent Florian T M Zeisig and mysterious XPQ? operator PVAS, uniting under the NUG moniker for a highly atmospheric session beamed directly from that short-lived, elusive sweetspot in the mid 90’s when Omni Trio and DJ Crystl collided with Mo Wax’s Some Scientific Abstract Type Shit! and Gescom’s Disengage, all red lights dappling thru a dense fog of smoke.

Rinsed out under the timeless influence of “bong & sterni” - who sound like a legendary Berlin ambient duo, but are just weed and beer - Zeisig and PVAS collide in midair for a stereo-swirled recollection taking us back to 1995 - that Autechre radio show on Kiss FM, peak Mo Wax, Kodwo Eshun’s ‘club trax’ column, just before everything went fully tasteful. Throwing links to more contemporary refractions found on various J. Albert workouts as much as Skee Mask’s most vapourised breaks, the NUG sound keeps toes and heads off the ‘floor with a rugged but lush suite of rave suspension systems making critical use of negative space and recoiling dub dynamics.

One for the early hours of the club, ‘Not Many People Here yet’ gives acres of room to bounce off the walls, while the ruder ‘Filthy Club’ sounds like the backroom heard from ceramic tiled bogs, and you’re already healthily zonked for the zombie float of ‘Is Under The Blanket.’ The radiant pads and swingeing breaks of ‘Morpheus’ dial up Skee Mask’s most pendulous rave visions, and ‘Napping Under God’ rolls out on 9 minutes of webbed breakbeat for the locked-in steppers, with Florian’s ambient texturing fully coming into effect on the blurry-eyed flex of ‘Lite.’

* A welcome reissue for this herbal-influenced Zion Train album, originally released on Universal Egg in 1995.
* A spaced-out world-wide dub excursion into the `Wonderful World of Weed’.
* For 30 years, Zion Train have been at the forefront of the UK dub and festival scene and still take their sound and message worldwide

Moody Blue Vinyl. RIYL: Codeine, Mazzy Star, Bedhead, Red House Painters, Low & American Music Club. Previously unreleased 16-track recordings that predates Spain’s 1995's landmark “The Blue Moods Of Spain". Includes original studio version of "World Of Blue" featuring Petra Haden on violin. Re-mixed and re-imagined by Kramer for Shimmy-Disc. The LP “World of Blue” features Merlo Podlewski on guitar. I first met Merlo in 1994. My sister Rachel Haden, who had been working with him at the Rhino Records store in Westwood, knew I was looking for a new guitarist for my band, and introduced us. Merlo is one of those guitarists whose playing is so smooth and effortless he makes anyone feel like they can play. He had an instinctual grasp of harmony and theory, which brought a great counterpoint to the technical knowledge and finesse of lead guitarist Ken. Spain played their first official L.A. gig with Merlo at a club called Pan, which shortly thereafter changed its name to Spaceland. We opened for Beck and That Dog. We played at Spaceland a lot and at other small clubs and coffee joints like the Troy Cafe (owned by Beck’s mom), Congo Square Coffee House in Santa Monica, Alligator Lounge, and others. At a certain point that year we were ready to record our first 7” single, and I reserved some time at Poop Alley. Poop Alley didn’t seem like the ideal recording setting. The walls and floors were made of concrete, and there was no soundproofing. The mixing board was in a loft up this steep staircase with no guard rails. But it worked somehow. On the particular day we recorded basics there was a rain storm which you can clearly hear in the background. The ceiling was so high there almost wasn’t a ceiling. A steep curving staircase with no guardrail led up to a loft area where the console was located, and next to it, on a custom-built, guardrail-less ledge, a queen-sized bed where Tom slept. I paid for the session with weed I grew in my closet. We set up and it started raining. Tom put a microphone outside. After tracking was finished, Petra came over and overdubbed violin. There was a cushioned area where I remember sitting during mixdown. We stayed good friends with Tom. We recorded a couple more songs with him the following year. Tom recorded lots of bands at Poop Alley. My sisters’ band That Dog, Beck, the Rentals, Rod Poole, Tom’s band Waldo the Dog Faced Boy, and many others. There were parties in the alley. There would be a keg of beer. Everyone was well-behaved. The most dangerous it got was when Kenny asked Beck if he was a Scientologist. I remember laughter and happiness the most from those parties. Not long afterwards Tom shut down the studio. Luckily for us, the tapes still exist. On those tapes are five songs, all of which are represented here. “I Lied” and “Her Used-To-Been” were released on the 7”, the remaining three have never been released before now. I can’t remember who I sent copies of the 7” to but shortly after it came out I got a call from an A&R executive at Geffen inviting me to their offices to talk. “I love your songs,” I remember him saying to me, “but my boss David Geffen won’t let me sign you because he doesn’t know how to market you.” Eventually a label that did want to sign us got in touch with me. Restless Records, they had decent distribution, so I said to myself, “Why not?”. This eventually led to the recording that produced our debut LP “Blue Moods of Spain”. Track listing: A1. Her Used-To-Been A2. Phone Machine A3. I Lied B1. Dreaming of Love B2. World of Blue

Chris Crack is back with a brand new album called Growthfully Developed. Fans and critics alike are already calling it the Westside Chicago native’s best album in the last few years. Pitchfork said “Crack’s latest album is a delicate balance of fresh and familiar from one of the funniest and most thoughtful rappers working today.” With song titles like “Pussy Better When You Eat It First” and “Shitting With The Door Open,” it’s no wonder why he’s said to have the best song titles in the game. Whether it’s heavy hitting 808’s, soul loops or head nodding boom bap Chris laces up the variety of beats with style and finesse. Praised by media outlets such as Billboard and Rolling Stone as well as by iconic hip hop artists such as Earl Sweatshirt and Madlib. Like the album title suggests, Chris has fully grown and developed to reach this point in his career and critics will believe that Growthfully Developed be looked back upon as a pivotal album in his prolific career. The 18 track effort is set to drop on vinyl this fall via Chong Wizard Records in partnership with Fat Beats. TRACKLIST: 1. I The Buck They Couldn’t Break 2. Chicago Don’t Make Industry Plants 3. Therapy Don’t Work, Try Drugs 4. Jordan Never Did That Move 5. Pussy Better When You Eat it First 6. Whoa Dair 7. Celebrate Everything Until Further Notice 8. Uknowwhereihadderat 9. Ate Ball in My Sock 10. Illuminati Phone Numbers 11. Shitting with the Door Open 12. Nine 2 Fives Make You Fake 13. Beer Just Bread in a Can 14. A Blunt Forced This Trauma 15. That Hate Us Because We’re Magic 16. Air Mattresses and Machine Guns 17. Weed is an Expensive Habit 18 . No Shortcut to Enlightenment

Public Possession proudly presents Aiden Ayers debut album „Venus Copper Rose“. A few words by the artist himself: „ Venus Copper Rose came to me in a dream. The three words are all the same thing, symbols of beauty and material formations of love. Together they are a VCR (videocassette recorder) - a memory machine, a portal into fantasy and myth + a transcriber of dreams. The songs on the album represent the past five years of my life. The oldest of them were written and first recorded in 2017 and the youngest barely made it to the mastering session on time. I am always writing and recording, travelling to and fro, on little islands off the coast of BC, down to the California desert, or in makeshift basement studios throughout Vancouver. Every song has grown up and been captured in a different way - the album is a wild garden of misfits, flowers and weeds. I hope that people feel nourished by this album - I believe that is the ultimate role of music, like another kind of food, light, or love. I hope these songs and this album can help people see the beauty and poetry that flows through their own lives.“

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

The four tracks here - repressed by dint of public demand and on sumptuous blue vinyl this time round - will delight house and techno heads alike, with the latter probably gravitating to the grittier off killer shuffle of 'Weed or Majik', while the A-side boasts the smoother, more soulful 'Moveable', the kind of slower house gear that Weatherall championed at his 'Love From Outer Space' night. A calming vocal sample and tooting saxes join the string-swaddled, crunchily floorfilling groove of 'In Ya Mind' meanwhile, and 'Turquoise Wave' clocks in as stripped down and serene. Gorgeous stuff all round.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Deeply ingrained into the fabric of the British electronic music landscape, Luke Vibert shows no sign of slowing down, after an illustrious career spanning three decades (to date!). Vibert returns to Hypercolour after 2020’s hugely successful trilogy series (Amen Andrews/Modern Rave/Rave Hop) with his 18th album (not counting albums released under his other monikers Kerrier District, Plug, Wagon Christ et al).

‘GRIT.’ finds Vibert in playful mode (and, let’s face it, whenever isn’t he!), as twelve tracks of acidic and squelching drum machine tracks come rolling out to play. Bouncy and hypnotising 303 jams of the highest order are served up here, with rhythms pulled from the electro, garage and house pools, all delivered in Vibert’s inimitable style.

Musician and sound/video installation artist Steve Batespresents a solo ambient/noise album ofmelodic smear, radiostatic blur, panoramic noise clouds and dissolving tones. Made primarilyunder the self-imposed 'limitation' of a Casio SK-1, this is his first entirely solo full-length albumin almost a decade. All The Things That Happen showcases the more deliberate, intensive, noise-clustered side of Bates' wide-ranging sonic sensibilities and practices. An isolation record (like so many), itcombines an ineffable melancholy with claustrophobictension and simmering political rage.Powerfully composed from layers of glistening distortion-drenched melody, pulsing and droningoscillation, bursts of blown-out chords, sweeps of static and sheets of crackling hiss, Bates hasmade an impressively dynamic, ardent and iridescent noise album of real depth and underlyingdevastation."This was supposed to be an ambient record; quiet, minimal and sad. These tracks all startedoff that way but I kept reaching for more texture and noise. Somehow the noisier the record got,the less sad it was also. I was listening to, and loving, a lot of music by Andrew Chalk and I hadfinished a year-long run of listening to Eno's 1 and 4. I preferOn LandtoMusic for Airportsalthough I love both.On Landjust has a darkness and uncertainty that appeals to me. Addingmore noise also got me excited about ways this material could be played live even though italso felt like that could never happen again.In 2022, I opened for Godspeed You! BlackEmperor in Saskatoon to give it a try and waspleasantly pleased to hear it all live and loud."A fixture of Winnipeg's burgeoning punk and social justice community in the 80s-90s, Batesplayed in hardcore and indie rock bands (Pull My Daisy, Bulletproof Nothing) prior to foundingthe Send + Receivefestival in 1998. A crucial development in putting Winnipeg on the map foravant music and sound art, Bates helmed Send + Receive for seven years, then moved toTiohti:áke/Montréal, became Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), releasedsolowork on Oral and two albums with his Black Seas Ensemble on Dim Coast, and pursuedmyriad other ongoing audio research, installation and collaborative projects. Relocating toTreaty 6/Saskatoon the year before pandemic,All The Things That Happenis Bates' mostrecent purposive and purely 'recorded' work.Thanks for listening.

Chicago-meets-Philly when Vic Spencer and Small Professor connect on Mudslide, the incredible new album from this pairing of raw talents. Coalmine Records is proud to share this project with the world, and it marks Small Pro’s third collaborative release on the label after he previously linked with Guilty Simpson and the late Sean Price. For the producer, it was an exciting new opportunity to team up with an emcee who’s gruff-voiced, hilarious, and can out-rap anyone on the planet. “Plus, my past Coalmine projects have their own neo/prog-boom-bap vibe, and ‘Mudslide’ continues that particular sonic blueprint,” Small Pro said. And for fans of that sound, you’re not going to find a better example of that sound than this album. It’s just as experimental as it is steeped in the traditions of rap thanks to Vic’s boundary-pushing rhymes and Small Pro’s immensely satisfying instrumentals. Tracks like “Lil Jon’s Weed Stash,” “Ew McNasty’s Revenge,” and “Selfcare Welfare” marry psychedelic vibes with grounded and clever lyricism. Another immediate standout is the lead focus track “Pitfall Music,” which features a mean-mugging guest verse from Flee Lord with cuts supplied by acclaimed turntablist, DJ Revolution.

Chicago-meets-Philly when Vic Spencer and Small Professor connect on Mudslide, the incredible new album from this pairing of raw talents. Coalmine Records is proud to share this project with the world, and it marks Small Pro’s third collaborative release on the label after he previously linked with Guilty Simpson and the late Sean Price.

For the producer, it was an exciting new opportunity to team up with an emcee who’s gruff-voiced, hilarious, and can out-rap anyone on the planet. “Plus, my past Coalmine projects have their own neo/prog-boom-bap vibe, and ‘Mudslide’ continues that particular sonic blueprint,” Small Pro said.

And for fans of that sound, you’re not going to find a better example of that sound than this album. It’s just as experimental as it is steeped in the traditions of rap thanks to Vic’s boundary-pushing rhymes and Small Pro’s immensely satisfying instrumentals.

Tracks like “Lil Jon’s Weed Stash,” “Ew McNasty’s Revenge,” and “Selfcare Welfare” marry psychedelic vibes with grounded and clever lyricism. Another immediate standout is the lead focus track “Pitfall Music,” which features a mean-mugging guest verse from Flee Lord with cuts supplied by acclaimed turntablist, DJ Revolution.

Mudslide will be available digitally, as well as on CD, cassette and vinyl in three configurations; classic black, brown w/ white color-in-color, and a limited Ghostly Brown vinyl edition.

Silversun Pickups kehren mit ihrem sechsten Studioalbum "Physical Thrills "zurück, das am 19. August über das bandeigene Label New Machine Recordings erscheint. Physical Thrills, der Nachfolger des 2019 erschienenen Albums Widow's Weeds, wurde von Butch
Vig (Nirvana, Garbage, Smashing Pumpkins, Green Day, Foo Fighters) produziert und von Billy Bush gemischt.

Physical Thrills umfasst eine eklektische Mischung aus verzerrten Synthesizern, tanzbaren Pop-Melodien, reduzierten Balladen und einer Sammlung von "Dream Shanties"-Melodien, die alle miteinander zu einem kohärenten Gesamtwerk verbunden sind. Das Kunstdesign
stammt von Lawrence Azerrad (Grammy®-Gewinner für The Voyager, Wilco).

CYPRESS HILL - 30th ANNIVERSARY CASE BOOK
To commemorate the 30 year Anniversary of Cypress Hill’s debut album Get On Down is proud to present the complete album on 7 inch vinyl singles for the rst time ever housed in a deluxe casebook. LIMITED TO 2000 UNITS WORLDWIDE! The debut album is presented as a set of six 7-Inch vinyl records presented in a Hardcover Casebook which holds all six records in built-in sleeves Full-color 80 page booklet with liner notes by journalist Chris Faraone, complete with photos and lyrics, and more Housed in a premium outer slipcase, debossed with the iconic Cypress Hill logo in metallic red foil. When Cypress Hill came with their debut self-titled album 30 years ago, they made an immediate spark that captivated the Hip Hop audience, critics, and then the world. Led by B-Real with his nasal, singsong delivery, and Sen Dog to play the perfect hypeman, Cypress’ debut fueled tales of revenge, revolution, recreational drug use, gangbanging, and cultural pride. Like Public Enemy before them, the production was also a key factor in what made this debut so groundbreaking. DJ Muggs was able to craft a blueprint that would change Hip Hop production with his innovative stoned-out beats. Records like "How I Could Just Kill a Man", "Pigs", "Stoned is the Way of the Walk" and "Hand on the Pump" made this album an instant classic. Since its release, the album has won acclaim as one of Rolling Stone's Essential Recordings of the 90s and Top 100 Best Rap Albums by The Source Magazine. Journalist and author Chris Faraone highlights the group's relationship in the reissue's liner notes saying, "By the late 80s the undisputed Cypress unit finally formed. B and Sen realized that their diametric styles - the latter's deep wrangle, the formers inimitable high notes - complemented one another righteously. By then Muggs had bangers in the bag, as well as industry experience from a jaunt with the New York duo 7A3. B and Sen waited while Muggs messed with 7A3, and in that time began to build the blueprint for their raucous and weeded no-holds-barred style. Besides getting schooled on industry pitfalls, Muggs had also grown into hip-hop's most formidable young producer, while straddling the bi-coastal gap." Faraone was able to dive in deep with the band for the liner notes, hearing story after story, including the particularly interesting tale of their unlikely 91 radio hit, "How I Could Just Kill A Man". In the B Side wins again story, the group recalls receiving resistance from the label in regards to which single should hit radio first. Initially, the label thought "How I Could Just Kill A Man" was too risky, and even though the single initially "The Phuncky Feel One", one of the album's strongest cuts, as the A-Side, college and commercial mix-show radio couldn't resist the dusted, heavy groove of Kill A Man. The song – which included a catchy, LA drive-by-inspired chorus – ended up as an unlikely, but powerful double A-sided single that even topped the Billboard Rap charts. More singles would follow, including "Hand On The Pump"; "Pigs"; and "Latin Lingo". And by the fall of 1991, the album was a full-blown critics darling. If you are a Cypress Hill fan and 45 collector this limited edition 30 year Anniversary 7” boxset is a must have!

Los Jerjeles were born in 2019 in Santiago de Chile. Friends since they were young, participants in the Santiago hardcore punk scene, decided to start a band inspired by the music they were listening to at the time: cumbia, funk, afrobeat and a bit of punk. The stages where they use to perform are small underground bars in Santiago's barrios, full of weed smoke and beer bottles, and the public are usually melomaniac freaks and vinyl lovers who are fans of this fresh and eclectic style. Currently the group devotedly practices every week, getting stuff ready for their next long player. We can assure you it's a labour of love for music and friendship. Band Members during the recording of Chanchiwua & Desayuno de Campeones: Guitars: Matías Espinosa / Bass: Christobal Loader / Drums: Pablo Madrid / Congas: Andres Ugarte / Trumpet: Matías Pedreros / Trumpet: Felipe Cordova / Kaos pad, knobs and circuit bending: Ervo Pérez