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The unconscious and unknown must be really nice places. In any case, if you take the second album of Menelaos Tomasides under his given name as travelogue. A trip into dreamlike territory, yet concrete enough, a journey without target yet looking forward and looking back into familiar places, „dreamhike“ both continues and departs from the style Menelaos has found earlier, in “When the Moon Comes Through”, or his more conceptual-intentional “31 Minuten” works. As the album title - which roughly translates to “dream hiking” but also hints on “walkabout” and “songlines” – suggests, we are rambling between the real and the imaginary. From the bucolic border triangle of Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands to the buzzing streets of the capital of Cyprus, where Menelaos has lived for many years, the tracks are about real places, about real experiences and emotions yet interwoven with a dreamlike fabric. Something that is just not tangible, yet substantial and palpable. Something concrete that manifests in the genuine and special sound design of this records - basically all of Menelaos’ works - his really special treatment of dynamics and loudness. It is one of the very few records where the established language of music making, specifically Techno, House, Dub, and early 2000’ Electronica, the clicks, thumps and plops from an earlier age of electronic music, transmogrify into slow movements of something new. Something that is gentle and truly personal, looking inwards. There are four-to-the-floor beats, there is wobbly bass, and dubby chords, even sublimated clarion calls. There is an immense energy in these tracks, the sheer materiality of low frequencies of a massive sound system manifested in a tiny room. Yet it is without any aggression, stripped bare of sonic pressure. It is quiet music no matter how high you turn up the volume. A rare treat, that requires exceptional skills and exceptional restraint and control on the technical side of music making. Probably it is a result of Menelaos specific combination of instinctual, intuitive approach to making music, which meets a genuine love for sound in seemingly endless loops of refinement that can lead to such a result as „dreamhike“. The elegant floating balance of control and playful experimentation manifests for example in a track that continues the ongoing collaboration with seasoned Cologne improviser Achim Fink on bass trumpet. Not only in this respect, the album can be described as a product of openness. It comes from a lot of taking in the world, of travel, of places and people met, of friendship and conversation (not necessarily with words). The deep trip of “dreamhike” further manifests Menelaos as one of the truly independent voices of electronic Cologne and beyond. Somewhat alike in character and attitude probably to what late Pete Namlook has established for Frankfurt with his label Fax +49-69/450464 (though ultimately warmer and much less uncanny) Menelaos has found his very own sound and vision. Music that answers to no one but speaks to everyone. Uncompromising yet gentle to the core: kind sounds from a kind spirit, arguably the most extraordinary and valuable quality music can have these days.

Mermaid Chunky. It's all in a name, sometimes. The danceable, costumed, curiosity rich duo of artists Freya Tate and Moina Moin are as imaginative as they profess. Or, to get more to the point, as we all need them to be. Freya and Moina are two visual artists and musicians from Stroud and South London, places where they importantly found communities (Stroud's SVA and the capital's Total Refreshment Centre) of like minded people just as willing to chase down an idea to its possibly illogical conclusion. And it is in the collective and the idea of participation that Mermaid Chunky really clicks. This is a party, a collective dance, made all the better with more: people, ideas, layers, kick drums, recorders, saxophones, frogs. To wit, the album's first track and first single, "Céilí," named after a traditional Scottish or Irish social gathering and dance, which builds from a simple recorder line into a swelling, warm burst of major chord dance music. Goosebumps or check your pulse. Further down the rabbit hole, "Chaperone" is almost boardwalk electro, like Fischerspooner on a ferris wheel; "Frogsporn" and "Nature Girl" are mucky, trippy dirges filled with stalactites of synth and squelch; "Tiny Gymnast" is a kaleidoscopic waltz into the night. Hold onto your seats, ladies and gentlemen. You might be wondering how we, DFA Records, all the way over in cynical Brooklyn, entered the picture. There was a day a few years ago, sun shining in full Springtime splendor, when James heard something while waiting for a coffee down the street from the office. It sounded simple yet deceptively complex: a dance track, but one where the one - that anchoring first beat in a measure - could be heard a thousand different ways. Frustrated and interested, he Shazamd the song, playing at the shop from an episode of Zakia's Questing show on NTS, and brought it back to the office, where we all listened to it about fifty times. (The song was "Friends," from Mermaid Chunky's VEST EP, released in 2020. It led to an invitation to open for LCD at Brixton Academy in 2022. Mermaid Chunky has also played live alongside The Comet Is Coming, Alabastair Deplume, Snapped Ankles, and many others.) Thus began our search for Mermaid Chunky. A quest it has been and a quest it will always be.

Deeper States Volume 2 is another installment of fresh sounds from producers who have come through a competition that set them to making proper deep hose with a specified sample library. Across four sides of wax, there are some mighty fine cuts here such as the deep garage inflections of Enrico Dragoni, some Motor City vibes from Scott Andrews, the deepest of dub techno workouts from Montreal courtesy of Dealin', soul-drenched late-night cruisers from Khalid Ali on 'Elevate' and some nice bubbly vocal vibes from Dublin don Oscide with his 'Free Your Mind.' This is another hugely effective and stylish EP from the Interweaved community.

Dawson’s latest offering, The Tinnitus Chorus, is an album of wide-eyed collaborations. He is joined by an inspired cast of revered friends and kindred strangers including Suso Saiz, M. Sage (Fuubutsushi), Eli Winter, K. Freund, (Trouble Books / Lemon Quartet), Dasom Baek, Lina Langendorf (Langendorf United), Vumbi Dekula, Jairus Sharif, Yutaka Hirasaka, and his bandmates in Peace Flag Ensemble. The collection is bookended by two pieces with Michael Grigoni. From birdsong and decaying tape to Western sprawl, each of Dawson’s previous solo records have moved in a singular direction but here he approaches things through a kaleidoscopic lens. While his weathered ambient sketches serve as a through line, they are woven with all manner of instrumentation from clarinet and modular synth to steel guitars and flugelhorn. Improvised Congolese guitar nuzzles next to American experimental folk. Handmade electronics give way to spiritual sax. M. Sage contributes something referred to as a “mystic music box”. The result is a strange and beautiful journey that feels lost between genres and yet wholly unified. Dawson reflects on the genesis of album with a smirk and a shrug. He has been marred by ear troubles in recent years and had been struggling to complete an album of solo material. The clicks, ringing tones, and hiss in his ears had been drowning out the ringing tones, clicks, and hiss in his studio. When he reached out to We Are Busy Bodies to provide an update on the record he was met with an unsuspecting proposal that perhaps he shift focus to an album of collaborations. The truth is he had been ruminating on the idea for years and the nudge from WABB proved to be the motivation he needed to shelve his insecurities and invite artists he admires to join him for The Tinnitus Chorus.

Almost three decades on from their last release, Acid Jazz forefathers Galliano are back with news of their new LP ‘Halfway Somewhere’ which is being released on Gilles Peterson’s Brownswood Recordings on 30 August.

Born out of London’s underground clubs and warehouse parties of the mid to late eighties, with the debut single on the Acid Jazz label in 1988, Galliano came out of a culture that spanned music, dance, fashion, art, design, and the written word.

When they arrived as the first act on Gilles Peterson’s Talkin’ Loud label in 1990 with ‘Welcome to the Story’ (produced by Chris Bangs who invented the term Acid Jazz) dressed in Gabicci sweaters, beads and skullcaps they captured a scene built on re-invention. “We were all playing around with what we could get our hands on whether that was a seventies book on Jamaican style or old Last Poets and Watts Prophets records,” says Gallagher. “We’d been recycling things for a few years but suddenly everything had coalesced and you’ve got an amalgam that seemed quite solid.”
For their first album since 1997, Rob Gallagher and his partner, vocalist Valerie Etienne, are joined by Galliano stalwarts Ernie McKone on bass, Crispin Taylor on drums, and Ski Oakenfull on keys (with guests including saxophonist Jason Yarde and percussionist Crispin ‘Spry’ Robinson).

Where the old Galliano recycled records they heard at clubs, today they are responding to the kaleidoscopic global jazz scene - from Total Refreshment Centre in London to International Anthem in Chicago. More than forty years since they came together, Galliano are still only ‘Halfway Somewhere’, but listening to the album they are obviously having fun getting there. “I think the stars have to be aligned when you redo things,” says Gallagher. “Coming at it from this door is very different to the door we came into back then. But once it's existing it is something. But I’m still not sure what that something is.”

Almost three decades on from their last release, Acid Jazz forefathers Galliano are back with news of their new LP ‘Halfway Somewhere’ which is being released on Gilles Peterson’s Brownswood Recordings on 30 August.

Born out of London’s underground clubs and warehouse parties of the mid to late eighties, with the debut single on the Acid Jazz label in 1988, Galliano came out of a culture that spanned music, dance, fashion, art, design, and the written word.

When they arrived as the first act on Gilles Peterson’s Talkin’ Loud label in 1990 with ‘Welcome to the Story’ (produced by Chris Bangs who invented the term Acid Jazz) dressed in Gabicci sweaters, beads and skullcaps they captured a scene built on re-invention. “We were all playing around with what we could get our hands on whether that was a seventies book on Jamaican style or old Last Poets and Watts Prophets records,” says Gallagher. “We’d been recycling things for a few years but suddenly everything had coalesced and you’ve got an amalgam that seemed quite solid.”
For their first album since 1997, Rob Gallagher and his partner, vocalist Valerie Etienne, are joined by Galliano stalwarts Ernie McKone on bass, Crispin Taylor on drums, and Ski Oakenfull on keys (with guests including saxophonist Jason Yarde and percussionist Crispin ‘Spry’ Robinson).

Where the old Galliano recycled records they heard at clubs, today they are responding to the kaleidoscopic global jazz scene - from Total Refreshment Centre in London to International Anthem in Chicago. More than forty years since they came together, Galliano are still only ‘Halfway Somewhere’, but listening to the album they are obviously having fun getting there. “I think the stars have to be aligned when you redo things,” says Gallagher. “Coming at it from this door is very different to the door we came into back then. But once it's existing it is something. But I’m still not sure what that something is.”

Dubstep's origins lie in dark 2-step mutations that evolved on dancefloors and in studios in the early 2000s. That same fusion of swing and space and subs can be found by the bucketload throughout the new EP by one of DNO’s staples, Kercha.
Skippy speed garage hats and slippery globules of bass animate the otherwise sparse production on the opening track ‘Feature’, while the wild beat on ‘Absurd’ could catch out any DJs not giving it their full attention. Wrapped in Kercha’s signature sonic debris, it delivers three and a half minutes of rattling, clicking, squelching wizardry.

The B-side gives us ‘Stimulate’, a collaboration with new-gen rising star Hypho. Indebted to trap, it’s full of militant 808 hi-hat rolls and the kind of firing synth tones that spell doom in a sci-fi movie (and tear up festival stages).

Finally, ‘Saturday’ is classic Kercha: sub-bass from the Seventh Circle, and so many suspicious chirps, whistles and hoots that it could soundtrack a nighttime stroll through the woods just as easily as skanking in a smoked-out sweatbox. The track is peppered with voice notes from a friend — snatches of funny, halfcut chatter, as random in content as Kercha's non-vocal sampladelia. The final snippet, which translates to “Saturday dictates its rules”, gives the track its name. A statement that can be read in all sorts of ways, it could even confer a motto for this whole collection, reflecting Kercha’s trademark originality.

The ‘Absurd’ EP is one of Kercha’s most dancefloor-directed releases to date, and whether conjuring the ghosts of club nights past or envisioning the raves of the future, it’ll be dominating sound systems for a long time to come.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

Spray’s Punctuality arrives sharp for its second instalment, rolling out the velvet carpet to welcome LA’s royal rave highness Etari. Kweenie is her inauguration, a no-nonsense exhibition of prog tonkers and tech pumpers accompanied by a wild remix from Angel D’Lite.

Deep in the heart of the angel’s city resides Etari, the west coast icon of boundless rave energy. Having graced the kingdoms of 100% Silk and Delusional Records previously with a wily array of hardcore dance styles, Spray’s Punctuality is the next stop. Etari duly obliges his invitation with Kweenie, a new iteration of her sound that develops her twisted club fantasies beyond the clouds, or at least as far as the lasers will carry.

Clocking in and the title track throws down from the off, shaking its royal rump that’s fit for a Kweenie before bumping its soaring bassline along its naughty groove. Angel D’Lite heeds the remix call, kickin’ it rage style with a breakbeat pumper that harkens to jungle tekno past while straddling future prog pastures. Lulu Limon gets freakier on side B, as Etari zests its anaesthetised groove with clicks and pops while gliding down its minimalised wormhole of latent psychedelia. Racehorse is last out the gate, initiating a heads-down stomper of tech(no) consequence that gallops cute but serious with club tenacity along its majestic travels, and thus concluding Punctuality’s latest transmission.

Wortgewandt wie ein junger Debattierclubchampion verfasst der Sohn eines kanadischen Vaters und einer deutschen Mutter intelligente deutschsprachige Raptexte, denen es weder an sprachlicher Raffinesse noch an technischen Details mangelt und knackt damit im Vorbeigehen Verkaufsrekorde. Dabei beherrscht Kollegah seine mitunter augenzwinkernde Inszenierung wie kein Zweiter und bedient sich dabei einer Selbstironie, die dem deutschen Rap lange abging und konträr zum stumpfen, lange vorherrschenden Gangstergetue steht. Anlässlich des 10. Geburtstags erscheint die limitierte Anniversary Edition von "KING" auf goldenem Doppel-Vinyl; nur solange der Vorrat reicht!

The inaugural chapter of a two-part epic. Get ready for an eclectic and unique modern twist fusion of proto- EBM, New Beat, Electro, Rave Breaks and early UK house, weaving together a tapestry of diverse influences. Experience the raw energy pulsating through potent basslines, driving each track forward with unstoppable force.

Meanwhile, deep and thought-provoking lyrical voice samples captivate the mind, inviting listeners to ponder existential questions and explore the depths of consciousness and creating innovative soundscapes leaving an indelible mark on the listener’s psyche. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid MAGENTA vinyl. All tracks have been specially mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany).

The long running vessel for Cameron Stallones' psychedelic excursions, Sun Araw, returns to Discrepant after last year's split with Tarzana via Keroxen sister label (KRXN033).
Without much precedent in his own - already wide-ranging - back-catalog, 'Cetacean  Sensation' discards the dubby vibes, psych-rock sunburnt jams, tropical visions, or stalking sensibilities of such classic efforts as 'On Patrol' or 'Ancient Romans' towards a deeply focused and vivid solitary approach, while still retaining this Sun Araw blissed out escapist feeling.
Composed of hydrophone recordings of whales and dolphins sourced during a summer in Galicia, 'Cetacean Sensation' paints an impressionistic and sensory floating canvas that expertly escapes both academic-like documentarian purposes and any new-age spa vibrations one could associate with such subject matter. Processing those raw recordings into alluring collages that flow gracefully between moments of clear eco-location  and submerged impressions of wildlife social dynamics. By the third track - Dance of the Minke - we're introduced to this ringing MIDI tone that evokes a CD-ROM era of mystic educational programs and click-and-deploy strategies  that still feel very much like an unfulfilled future, conjured again by 'Spider Crab Elegy's sparse keyboard pads and sound effects that give way to this properly elegiac tentative melody. 'The Spider Crab Point' ends the album on a more uneasy vibe, with synth tones pointing towards no particular direction, confounding and strangely inviting at the same time. As sensations often do.
Music written and produced by Cameron Stallones using hydrophones and digital synthesisRecorded in 2019 in Galicia, ES
Mastering by Rashad Becker

LP im Klappcover! Es war der Abstand - der zeitliche, räumliche und methodische - der Mac DeMarco zu "This Old Dog", dem ersten Longplayer seit "Salad Days" von 2014, inspirierte. Mit einer Handvoll Demos in der Tasche, die er in New York geschrieben hatte, zog er von Queens nach Los Angeles und realisierte nach ein paar Monaten in der neuen Heimat, dass dieser Abstand ihm neue Perspektiven eröffnete. Mac DeMarco sagt: "I demoed a full album, and as I was moving to the West Coast I thought I'd get to finishing it quick. But then I realized that moving to a new city, and starting a new life takes time. Usually I just write, record, and put it out; no problem. But this time, I wrote them and they sat. When that happens, you really get to know the songs. It was a different vibe." Mit dem Poppen und Klicken der CR-78 und dem akustischen Geklimper des Album-Opener "My Old Man" sowie dem von Synthesizern durchzogenen zweiten Song "This Old Dog" wird schnell klar, dass Mac DeMarco diesmal tief in die Trickkiste gegriffen hat. Auf "This Old Dog" sind die Synthesizer stärker verwurzelt als auf seinen bisherigen Releases, aber trotzdem achtet DeMarco sorgfältig darauf, dass diese den Rest der Instrumente und den "unplugged"-Eindruck des Albums nicht überschatten. Oder wie er erklärt: "This is my acoustic album, but it's not really an acoustic album at all. That's just what it feels like, mostly. I'm Italian, so I guess this is an Italian rock record." ENG Gatefold LP! This Old Dog by Mac DeMarco (A.K.A. 26-year old McBriare Samuel Lanyon DeMarco) is his third album and first full-length since 2014's Salad Days. The album opener "My Old Man" and title track "This Old Dog" show a new sonic direction and a glimpse into the very personal nature of this record. It was a little space-in time, location (he moved from Queens to Los Angeles), and method-that inspired DeMarco while making This Old Dog. Arriving in California with a grip of demos he'd written in New York, he realized after a few months of setting up his new shop that the gap was giving him perspective. DeMarco says, "I demoed a full album, and as I was moving to the West Coast I thought I'd get to finishing it quickly. But then I realized that moving to a new city, and starting a new life takes time. Usually I just write, record, and put it out; no problem. But this time, I wrote them and they sat. When that happens, you really get to know the songs. It was a different vibe." DeMarco wrote some demos for "This Old Dog" on an acoustic guitar, an eye-opening method for him. "The majority of this album is acoustic guitar, synthesizer, some drum machine, and one song is electric guitar. So this is a new thing for me." And right from the offset, from the pops and clicks of the CR-78 and acoustic strums on the album-opening "My Old Man," and the synth-drenched beauty of the second track, "This Old Dog," it's clear that DeMarco's bag is filled with new tricks indeed. This Old Dog is rooted more in a synth-base than any of his previous releases, but he is careful not to let that tactic overshadow the other instruments and overall "unplugged" mood of the work. "This is my acoustic album, but it's not really an acoustic album at all. That's just what it feels like, mostly. I'm Italian, so I guess this is an Italian rock record."

Released in 1999 on Taylor Deupree’s 12k label, »optimal.lp« was the debut album by Dan Abrams under his Shuttle358 moniker. For its 25th anniversary, Keplar presents it on vinyl for the first time with three previously unreleased tracks—the digital version also includes a alternative version of »Tank«—as well as a new artwork recreated by Daniel Castrejón and a remaster by Andreas LUPO Lubich based on the original pre-masters that were been restored and cleaned up for the reissue project by Abrams. »optimal.lp« was inspired by the rich tradition of ambient music and the rhythmic complexity of 1990s electronica while also sharing many traits with the then-emerging clicks’n’cuts movement, making it a true sui generis piece of work—both informed by tradition and visionary, idiosyncratic and seminal for many artists after him.

Abrams developed an interest in ambient music when he was still a child, scouring through cassette tapes of environmental sounds, new age music, and world percussion. Discovering Brian Eno’s »Thursday Afternoon« as a young teenager marked a turning point for him. »It gave me the idea that ambient music could be an intentional creative act, that tone itself is a legitimate form of expression,« he says today. During the 1990s, he increasingly immersed himself in the electronica scene and the output of labels such as Instinct, where Deupree worked as an Art Director and released his first records as Human Mesh Dance. Abrams found a home on 12k after sending Deupree a demo tape that would later evolve into »optimal.lp,« released as the label’s fifth catalogue number.

Abrams was still in college when he started experimenting with a sound module, his laptop and a mixer as well as a MIDI card and a small controller. »Each note was composed in MIDI and played back when I was ready to record,« he explains his working process at the time. »The tracks could be replayed, but the sound interactions with glitches and noise would be a little different each time. I decided to base the concept of the album on these interactions.« Each piece started with a single sound or tone that, as Abrams puts it, already contained the entire composition: »I let these interactions guide me, and tried to complement them as I added sounds. It’s a conversation of sorts with the medium.«

While refining this technique that he would go on to use on every album until 2004’s »Chessa,« reissued by Keplar in 2021, he also used the first-ever Native Instrument product, the Generator soft synth, to write the record’s title track—possibly making it the first album on which it was being used. »optimal.lp« is marked by this curious interplay of cutting-edge technology, the limitations with which every college student with a small budget is faced, and boundless creativity. »I’ve talked with other artists about how we feel about our early work,« Abrams says today. »We all agreed that there were elements that remain a part of us in a timeless way, despite our techniques—or lack thereof—at the time. ›optimal.lp‹ has a lot of things that will always be with me, that are me. I think I left some clues in there for my future self.«

This sense of timelessness remains tangible after a quarter of a century after the album’s original CD release and is even being expanded upon by the vinyl reissue, which is complemented by three pieces that were made while Abrams was working on the album. The digital release even features an entirely new take on the original album’s final piece, »Tank.« While Abrams let one of the masters go through his customised reverb unit when preparing the reissue, he started recording the results of this accidental dialogue between past and present. It’s a fitting tribute to an album whose delicate circular rhythms, rich textures, and ethereal melodies are precisely so exhilarating because their interplay seems to suspend the passing of time altogether.

This product is a Record Store Day exclusive title and is not available to pre-order.

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Manhattan Fire is a collection of demos from prolific Brooklyn outfit The Men, revealing early versions of the tracks that would go on to make up their 2023 LP New York City – described by Pitchfork as “an unpretentious garage-punk racket … summoning the snottiest ghosts of the city’s punk past.”

Recorded in mono and with a drum machine by founding members Mark Perro and Nick Chiericozzi over lockdown in late 2020 – before being shelved for the full-band, live-to-tape affair of the final LP – Manhattan Fire shows a new side to those songs that's even more primitive and rough around the edges, as well as previously unheard tracks that never made it onto the album.

"Palm Reader", das zweite Album der Texaner HIGH DESERT QUEEN, strotzt geradezu vor roher Kraft und dem Donnern von gefühlt 666 heißblütigen Dieselpferden. Der Langspieler steckt voll von coolen Vibes, packenden Leads und jeder Menge Desert-Feeling. Dabei liegt der Fokus der Wüstenrocker auf großartigen Songs, statt sich hinter Genre-Zäunen zu verstecken. Diese ungezähmte Attitüde fand den Zündfunken für ihre sprudelnde Energiequelle auf der letzten Tour. Als die Band nach sechs Wochen auf Europas Straßen und Bühnen mit den legendären FATSO JETSON nach Texas zurückkehrte, hatte sie sich von deren allabendlichen Improvisationen und Jamsessions inspirieren lassen und zahlreiche Ideen notiert. Trotz Jetlag konnten es HIGH DESERT QUEEN kaum erwarten, mit neuen Aufnahmen zu beginnen. Dabei konzentrierte sich die Truppe weniger darauf, wer bestimmte Parts wie einspielte, sondern sie erlaubte sich Unvollkommenheit und ließ den Click weg. Frei von künstlichen Schranken begann ihre Musik so frei zu fließen wie nie zuvor. Schon bei der ersten Studiosession nach der Tournee entstanden gleich drei neue Songs. Die Band aus Austin, Texas hat den musikalischen Jackpot geknackt, und "Palm Reader" ist der schlagende Beweis dafür. HIGH DESERT QUEEN waren schon immer etwas anders und viel mehr als nur eine weitere Desert Rock Band. Von Sänger Ryan Garney und Gitarrist Rusty Miller im Jahr 2019 in Houston, Texas gegründet, rekrutierte das Duo bald darauf Schlagzeuger Phil Hook (MONTE LUNA) und zog 2020 nach Austin um. HIGH DESERT QUEEN wurde von Anfang an das Zeug dazu nachgesagt, die dümpelnde Wüstenrockszene wieder in Schwung zu bringen. Ihre vielseitigen musikalischen Einflüsse, die von Grunge bis Funk, sowie von Old School Metal bis Doom und vielen weiteren Musikstilen reichen, boten eine ideale Grundlage für neue Ideen und die nötige Verjüngung des Genres. Ihre donnernden Verzerrer-Hymnen kommen mit einer gesunden Portion Groove und eingängigen Melodien daher, die massiven Anschub durch eine seltene emotionale musikalische Intelligenz erhalten. Der frisch geprägte Sound ist dennoch eng mit dem reichen Erbe des Wüstenrocks verbunden - was in ihrer Stilbezeichnung "Texas Desert Rock" ein Echo findet. Mit "Palm Reader" vollziehen HIGH DESERT QUEEN den nächsten Quantensprung ihrer rasanten Entwicklung. Die Texaner haben die perfekte Balance zwischen den kräftigen Wurzeln ihres Genres und dem pointiert-eigenen Ausdruck gefunden. Angetrieben von Geist und Kraft der live gespielten Musik, rockt dieses Album hart und ehrlich!

Tuk Smith & The Restless Hearts is an American rock band from Nashville founded and fronted by former Biters leader Tuk Smith, originally from Atlanta, now living in Nashville. The band released their debut single "What Kinda Love" on January 10, 2020 and were also added as an opening act for The Stadium Tour with Def Leppard and Mötley Crüe on the same day. Then came the onset of Covid 19. “When the pandemic hit, it was like hitting the reset button on my music career” recalls Tuk, “everything got taken away…album campaign, stadium tour, record deal. The world was in lockdown, and the only way to escape was to throw myself into writing. My thoughts began exploring the past, and the inspiration for the songs just came in tidal waves.”
The new collection is a rock ‘n roll silver lining that came out of the solitude and reflection of the pandemic. Ballad Of A Misspent Youth is the new single (and subsequent album of the same name) released summer of 2022 on Tuk’s new record label MRG, through Virgin Music. Tuk explains, “I decided to make a rock and roll record for me and what I like because there was no label, there was no committee involved…just me and my stories. I wanted to create a setting and an authentic feeling about everything. I reunited with long-time friend Dan Dixon and recorded these songs in his garage studio, and there is a purity to the work that came from all the circumstances of that time.” Growing up as an outsider in rural Georgia, Tuk found solace in hardcore punk acts like Black Flag and The Exploited. From there, Smith branched out into exploring seventies New York bands like The Dead Boys and New York Dolls, which lead him across the sea where he embraced first-wave British acts like The Buzzcocks and the Clash. Smith wasn’t just a casual fan of these acts, he was obsessed with them and traced their lineage with fervent dedication. “I was always into the Clash growing up and Mick Jones’ favorite band was Mott The Hoople, so through the years I ended up developing a love of the first wave of British glam, power pop and things like that,” he explains. Soon Smith was forming his own acts, touring relentlessly and building a following with his high-energy live shows, including his tour of duty as lead singer for the Biters, who he fronted for nearly a decade. He offers “Then after being on the road for years, I had a reckoning about where I was at and the future ahead. …I realized the only way to achieve something meaningful was to be a good songwriter…that clicked. I went on a musical diet where I stripped the obscure stuff away, and I really started focusing on the greats. When I started clicking that it was just about the songs, things changed. I had already put my 10,000 hours in the van to play in the dive clubs, but then I put my 10,000 hours into figuring out how to write. I also started working with other songwriters. I humbled myself… it was an education, like going to school.” Tuk elaborates, “I wanted to kind of branch out musically and do different things, and I figured to go solo would be better. My manager actually suggested I call my new band “The Restless Hearts” and that's what he would call me all the time. It was the title of a Biters song that people loved and I’d seen a few restless hearts tattoos at our shows along the way… and so Tuk Smith & The Restless Hearts was born. I was in a period where I changed everything including the way I lived my daily life. I experimented with different ways to tap into positive/creative energy…it was an evolving overall process (and still is).” Tuk summarizes, “Things used to be about debauchery, and now they’re more about dedication. I mean, I was always driven, but I was sometimes focusing on the wrong things. Now I focus on the music and the craftsmanship of writing and producing and performing. “

Malvina Mercedes Meinier is an exception in the music industry: pianist, composer, arranger, producer, singer and pole dancer. The richness of her character and the multiplicity of her style, from pop ballads to the most extreme music, make her an ultra-contemporary heroine. She will be releasing a new album entitled "Mercedes" on May 3rd via Pop Noire Records.

Mint Condition - A record label focused on excavating the outer fringes of classic House and Techno. Unreleased mixes, classics, overlooked gems and never heard before material, mined from the last 30+ years of contemporary dance music are the order of the day. From Chicago, Detroit and New York to London, San Francisco and beyond. Mint Condition have got their digging hats on to bring you exclusive heat and those rarer than rare jams that have been in your wants list for years. Dig in!

A serendipitous encounter at an SF record store in the early 90s brought together local music aficionados DJ Dan and Jim Hopkins. Their collaboration birthed the legendary Electroliners project, channeling their shared passion for underground and funky sounds into the iconic left-coast rave anthem, 'Loose Caboose', now firmly nestled in your hands. Pooling their musical prowess, Dan and Jim embarked on a journey of sonic exploration, meticulously crafting their signature sound by dissecting samples and breakbeats, infusing the musical landscape with a revitalizing energy. As their reputation grew within the local scene, they found themselves tasked with supplying a track for a promotional CD-ROM by a burgeoning software company.

Through marathon sessions of digging, slicing, sequencing, and exchanging snippets over phone calls, Electroliners hit their creative stride. It was only natural to unveil their creation in the raw intensity of a live rave setting. Thanks to a connection with DJ DRC, they seized the opportunity, and the rest is history. Copies of the record flew off the shelves by the thousands locally, and its overseas acclaim, spearheaded by licensing through XL Recordings in the UK, cemented its status as a bona fide underground classic. But what exactly is an Electroliner you might ask? Jim sheds light on the inspiration: “I delved into books on trains at the public library,” he reveals. “Among them, 'Electroliner' caught my eye, a train line in the Midwest. Given the track's pulsating train horn, 'Electroliner' and 'Loose Caboose' simply clicked.”

'Loose Caboose' is an all-time classic, and still causes much damage on the dancefloor today. Yet another unmissable addition to the MC reissue catalogue, fully licensed from the artists, mastered and cut by Curve Pusher, and available once again available for purchase. Do not sleep.

Infinity Machine is a duo comprised of Juan MacLean - as in the Juan MacLean, longtime DFA traveler - and Gee Dee, also known as Greg Droggitis, a producer and DJ based in Brooklyn and 1/3 of the Earth Beat DJ troupe. The project name stems from a series of gatherings the two began hosting in various private spaces around New York City shortly after lockdown, though that description is a bit innocuous for the journeys traveled by its attendees. These events, billed as "psychedelic dance ceremonies" lasting 8 or 9 hours, began with a sound meditation to vibrational and acoustic instruments before eventually segueing into a "dance" soundtracked by a DJ set from Juan and Greg. Something clicked - that ceremonial tea! - and so Juan and Greg began playing and recording in their studio using the same approach: improvisation with equal attention placed on traditional acoustic (flute, guitar, gong) and more contemporary electronic (Yamaha DX-7) sounds. After awhile, there was literally three albums worth of material, each of them a voyage into the warm, liminal space between new age, ambient, drone and psychedelia. None of those genres quite fully describe what's across 001, 002, and 003 - available from DFA digitally and on a very limited run of cassettes (150 each!) - but if you've read this far then you're either the right kind of curious or just forgot what you were doing.

Infinity Machine is a duo comprised of Juan MacLean - as in the Juan MacLean, longtime DFA traveler - and Gee Dee, also known as Greg Droggitis, a producer and DJ based in Brooklyn and 1/3 of the Earth Beat DJ troupe. The project name stems from a series of gatherings the two began hosting in various private spaces around New York City shortly after lockdown, though that description is a bit innocuous for the journeys traveled by its attendees. These events, billed as "psychedelic dance ceremonies" lasting 8 or 9 hours, began with a sound meditation to vibrational and acoustic instruments before eventually segueing into a "dance" soundtracked by a DJ set from Juan and Greg. Something clicked - that ceremonial tea! - and so Juan and Greg began playing and recording in their studio using the same approach: improvisation with equal attention placed on traditional acoustic (flute, guitar, gong) and more contemporary electronic (Yamaha DX-7) sounds. After awhile, there was literally three albums worth of material, each of them a voyage into the warm, liminal space between new age, ambient, drone and psychedelia. None of those genres quite fully describe what's across 001, 002, and 003 - available from DFA digitally and on a very limited run of cassettes (150 each!) - but if you've read this far then you're either the right kind of curious or just forgot what you were doing.

Infinity Machine is a duo comprised of Juan MacLean - as in the Juan MacLean, longtime DFA traveler - and Gee Dee, also known as Greg Droggitis, a producer and DJ based in Brooklyn and 1/3 of the Earth Beat DJ troupe. The project name stems from a series of gatherings the two began hosting in various private spaces around New York City shortly after lockdown, though that description is a bit innocuous for the journeys traveled by its attendees. These events, billed as "psychedelic dance ceremonies" lasting 8 or 9 hours, began with a sound meditation to vibrational and acoustic instruments before eventually segueing into a "dance" soundtracked by a DJ set from Juan and Greg. Something clicked - that ceremonial tea! - and so Juan and Greg began playing and recording in their studio using the same approach: improvisation with equal attention placed on traditional acoustic (flute, guitar, gong) and more contemporary electronic (Yamaha DX-7) sounds. After awhile, there was literally three albums worth of material, each of them a voyage into the warm, liminal space between new age, ambient, drone and psychedelia. None of those genres quite fully describe what's across 001, 002, and 003 - available from DFA digitally and on a very limited run of cassettes (150 each!) - but if you've read this far then you're either the right kind of curious or just forgot what you were doing.

Berlin-based Swedish tenor saxophonist Otis Sandsjö returns with his third album Y-OTIS TRE on We Jazz Records. Y-OTIS TRE finds Sandsjö in close collaboration with his long-time working partner and friend, bassist/producer Petter Eldh and keyboardist Dan Nicholls.

Berlin-based Swedish tenor saxophonist Otis Sandsjö returns with his third album Y-OTIS TRE on We Jazz Records. Y-OTIS TRE finds Sandsjö in close collaboration with his long-time working partner and friend, bassist/producer Petter Eldh and keyboardist Dan Nicholls.

After 25 years of living his dream as one of hip hop’s most respected producers, Hi-Tek is digging back into his roots with a brand new trio of instrumental vinyl LPs. “Werk Road (1997 MPC 60)” is the third volume of the series, each featuring a selection of restored and remastered beats, carefully chosen from an archive of DAT tapes. These LPs manage to both provide a window into Tek’s development and to shine light on the work of an already enormously talented musician whose beats would’ve sounded right at home on classic releases from the mid-1990s.

1997 is when the name Hi-Tek began to develop a global buzz, largely due to the combustible indie-rap scene. He’d moved on from the now-shuttered Beatbox Studios in his hometown of Cincinnati and began building his first proper home studio in his new apartment on Werk Road. With a borrowed Akai MPC 60 drum machine as the foundation, he began churning out beats at a more prolific rate than ever.

In addition to placements on debut LPs by Mood and Royal Flush, Tek would make his name in 1997 as one-half of the duo Reflection Eternal with Brooklyn MC Talib Kweli. Their Rawkus Records debut 12” “Fortified Live” was an instant smash, and it quickly placed him at the top of the class of up-and-coming beatmakers. His unique balance of bassline-driven grooves behind soulful samples would eventually lead him to be in high demand for artists across the spectrum of the genre, and in short time he was producing for Common, Snoop Dogg, Raphael Saadiq, Dr. Dre, 50 Cent, and others from all over the country.

The work featured on “Werk Road (1997 MPC 60)” reveals an artist who would not only become one of the most respected producers in rap, but one of the cultural ambassadors of his home city of Cincinnati for over 25 years. In 2022, Hi-Tek was inducted into the Cincinnati Black Music Walk of Fame alongside luminaries like The Isley Brothers, Bootsy Collins and Midnight Star, and remains the most successful hip hop artist that the city has ever produced.

‘Elusive Truth’ was the second full-length record by D.C.-area doom rock Spirit Caravan led by the all time heavy lifer Scott ‘Wino’ Weinrich (The Obsessed, St. Vitus, Shrinebuilder, Probot). Originally released in 2001 and now remastered. “On this, Spirit Caravan's second foray into the long-player format, the band has collectively slowed down the tempo, and dropped the mood into even more contemplative territory. As the grandfather of modern stoner rock, Wino has certainly dipped his guitar picks in LSD this time around. Even though the engineering and production is bone dry and bottom heavy, Wino's psychedelic guitar work -- especially his stinging, busy leads -- has been ratcheted up a few clicks, even if the overall aesthetic is darker, and the superb musicianship from the trio simplified. The listener may be reminded of Hawkwind powered by an enormous diesel engine. As a title, Elusive Truth may indicate Wino's searching nature as a musician, and his attempt to continue down the sonic path through darkness, and through light. With this album, the listener is most certainly in darker territory.”

For their first album, Seth Troxler and Phil Moffa joined forces and became multidimensional creative dissidents Lost Souls Of Saturn. This time, even further into the vortex, they’ve metamorphosed into sci-fi AR comic characters John and Frank who’ve explored the galaxy and returned with this perception-melting new LP.

Although ‘Reality’ still possesses the wigged-out conceptual brilliance which garnered installations and performances at Saatchi Gallery (London), Fondation Beyeler (Basel), The Metropolitan Museum of Art (NYC), and Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit, plus live sets at Field Day, Glastonbury and Kappa Futur, as its title might suggest, there’s vividness amidst the mind-bending. Where its predecessor was a murky exploration of weird and dark cerebral passageways, this album – though still fathoms deep – has a dazzling clarity of sound, as if listeners are beginning to crack the arcane codes, and reach for enlightenment.

A prime example of these newfound beams of light guiding participants through the maze is their recent single; the chugging cosmic techno synth pop of ‘Mirage’, featuring the voice of Adam Ohr. Also guesting on the album is Lvv Gvn, whose honeyed Billie-Holiday-meets-Rickie-Lee-Jones tones adorn the tranquil pixelated broken beat of ‘Click’, Greg Paulus’s trumpet sessions on ‘Zorg Arrival’ and ‘Scram City’, and Protomartyr’s vocalist Joe Casey and guitarist Greg Ahee, who grace the liminal drifting celestial plane of ‘Lilac Chasers’. Sitarist Rishab Sharma, the last disciple of guru Ravi Shankar, also shreds on ‘Scram City’.

Elsewhere, across the LP’s immensely inventive instrumental passages techno, dub, house, jazz, psych and ambient are vapourised into an expansive yet pleasingly concise series of morphing dream states. Fans of Air Liquide, Ravi Shankar, Ray Manzarek, Carl Craig, Pole, The Orb and ‘Son Of A Lung’ era FSOL should find much to like.

Bitchcraft was born in a move from New York City, where Bitch had lived for 15 years, to a log cabin in the woods. There was all the time in the world to make art, and it was there, in the cabin, that Bitch began to write some of the songs that would appear on Bitchcraft. 'It gave me space to think about the biggest version of myself that I could be,' she says of those early days in the cabin. The songs she wrote were a departure from anything she'd ever written before, and she began to craft huge pop tracks with the help of her trusty violin. Then, she moved to LA and Bitchcraft began to shapeshift again. In the time that followed, Bitch assembled a coven to complete it. She called on Anne Preven (Beyonce, Madonna, Demi Lovato) and God-des who helped her crystalize her vision in terms of writing and production. She called on Roma Baran (Laurie Anderson) to produce the violins on 'Polar Bear.' She called on Melissa York (Team Dresch, The Butchies) and Faith Soloway (Transparent) to co-write a couple of the songs. The resulting record is one that is full of glorious pop tracks that go in unexpected directions. Bitchcraft is like Joni Mitchell set to a click track, it's queer Cyndi Lauper. It's neon pink, in your face, ready to hex you with its brilliance. It's an unbelievably fun record that is extremely capable of breaking your heart a little bit. It also makes you think: about the state of the world, about evil politicians, about what it means to exist as a woman, and how to find joy along the way.

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Circular patterns morphing through time, loop and ritual form the fabric of Proserpine, the latest work by Leeds-based musician, Teresa Winter. Recorded from a summer to a winter through 2021 and 2022, Proserpine is Winter's most cohesive, focused music to date: confidently revelling in space, fixating on isolated sounds and giving way to satisfying, swirling waves of vocal and electronic buzz. Proserpine is Teresa Winter's debut recording for Glasgow-based label, Night School.

On Proserpine, musical patterns revolve and intersect with each other, transmogrifying the music's narrative. Over-arching themes emerge: continual change, elusiveness. Insubstantiality emerges into concrete reality in the form of recognisable field recordings: the purring of a pet cat, the hum of a live cable. The loops and patterns are sometimes just out of sight, the click and whirl on Child Of Nature is the backdrop to hymnal vocalisations by Winter, who intones spell-like text in conversation with herself. On opener Circles, Winter's vocal is pre-linguistic, detached syllables falling into flowing streams, before Plume's field recordings seem to juxtapose nocturnal and diurnal wildlife. "You said I was a Flower Of The Mountain" sings Winter, as James Joyce's Molly Bloom does but the carpe diem desire in Ulysses is dissipated here, spread out by gauzy, droning organs. Here desire is blown up and out, changed into something undefinable but no less powerful.

Change is at the heart of the album. The Roman goddess Proserpine, herself a reimagined version of the earlier Greek goddess Persephone, is always between: between summer and winter, the land of the living and the underworld, constantly emerging into new states of being. It's a fitting metaphor for Winter's work. Like an Apple feels like it soundtracks this in-between state, long, trailing reverb smudging synth keys and Winter's achingly beautiful vocal performance. The effect is stirring but flitting in and out of perception, sometimes Winter's presence feels of this world, of musical instruments and practises and at others it feels like the music is about to phase into a different plane, a different universe.

While Proserpine references the myths and cults of the classical, pre-Christian era, Winter's restless preoccupation with the mechanics of religion informs the album in other ways. Ritual is present through out, either in the mantra-like vocalisations or even the private rituals we are invited to witness: on Fireworks the listener eave drops into the protagonist's private bonfire. On the stunning Lamento, layers of Choral vocal interlock in celestial patterns that recall catholic mass: it's an overt effect that simulates the ecstasy of religious fervour and also reminds the listener of the use of vocal that runs through Proserpine. Winter's vocals often echo with the euphoria of obliteration, of disintegrating in an awful bliss. It's an effect achieved with finality by the closer New Water as the piece begins with voice before burning up in the atmosphere of elegiac violins and enveloping undertows of whirring synth patterns and ghostly pads. Proserpine is forever turning, changing, always elusive and quietly revelatory.

Welcome to Masters Series - for people who understand that some things just can't be tamed. (Read: these are scratchy, poppy, and rough recordings from busted acetates. Click the listen tab to preview quality. These are cleaned up as best we can get them - if that's not going to work for you, don't order!)

For this limited edition Masters Series release, we enlisted the help of two of the world's heaviest collectors and djs, and champions of the Preservation Project from day one, Supreme la Rock on Side-A, and Skeme Richards on the B-Side.

Both gentlemen tackled reworking and re-editing funky previously unreleased psych songs. Both songs, "Sad Country Boy" on Side A and "Your Mind" on Side B, are by unknown groups and both feature drum breaks intros - perfect for you to cut up, so you're gonna need two copies. We won't be mad at you if you feed the breaks and chop them up either. This one is for the heads.

The story behind The Masters Series

In our hunt for unreleased soul, we occasionally find some incredible gems that are just a bit too beaten to restore to the ears of the general public. Rather than return them to the moldy basements from whence they came, we press them up to share with those who love to share.

Everything clicks on Safe to Run, the fourth album from singer, songwriter Esther Rose - It's the quiet culmination of years spent fully immersed in a developing artistry, and presents Rose's always vividly detailed emotional scenes with new levels of clarity and control As with previous work, her songwriting transfigures the chaos and uncertainty of a life in progress, but here she introduces a newfound pop element that attaches unshakably catchy hooks to even the darkest stretches of the journey. Rose takes an unblinking look at her own vulnerabilities as well as more universal concerns, somehow never taking herself too seriously in the process. This manifests as a critique of the insidious sexism of the music industry on "Dream Girl," but quickly melts into a hazy memoryscape of the dive bar drama and suspended hovering of her early 20s on "Chet Baker." The song "Safe to Run" (a gorgeous duet with Hurray for the Riff Raff's Alynda Segarra) directly merges the personal with the global, superimposing feelings of spiritual displacement onto the larger, looming dread of climate grief. Rose breathes in the ecstasy of the natural world in one line and makes fun of herself a few bars later. There are ghosts in the room for most of her songs, but she's invited them in and is cracking jokes with them over a drink or two. Ultimately all of these new advancements become twinkles of light in the background as they fold into the big picture impact of the songs themselves. Esther Rose translates her world into eleven curious and captivating scenes. While the songs are stunning one by one, absorbing Safe to Run as a whole feels like witnessing something taking shape, experiencing the headspins of the elevation and the slow return to equilibrium as the clouds start clearing

Everything clicks on Safe to Run, the fourth album from singer, songwriter Esther Rose. It’s the quiet culmination of years spent fully immersed in a developing artistry, and presents Rose’s always vividly detailed emotional scenes with new levels of clarity and control. As with previous work, her songwriting transfigures the chaos and uncertainty of a life in progress, but here she introduces a newfound pop element that attaches unshakably catchy hooks to even the darkest stretches of the journey. Rose takes an unblinking look at her own vulnerabilities as well as more universal concerns, somehow never taking herself too seriously in the process. This manifests as a critique of the insidious sexism of the music industry on “Dream Girl,” but quickly melts into a hazy memoryscape of the dive bar drama and suspended hovering of her early 20s on “Chet Baker.” The song “Safe to Run” (a gorgeous duet with Hurray for the Riff Raff’s Alynda Segarra) directly merges the personal with the global, superimposing feelings of spiritual displacement onto the larger, looming dread of climate grief. Rose breathes in the ecstasy of the natural world in one line and makes fun of herself a few bars later. There are ghosts in the room for most of her songs, but she’s invited them in and is cracking jokes with them over a drink or two. Ultimately all of these new advancements become twinkles of light in the background as they fold into the big picture impact of the songs themselves. Esther Rose translates her world into eleven curious and captivating scenes. While the songs are stunning one by one, absorbing Safe to Run as a whole feels like witnessing something taking shape, experiencing the headspins of the elevation and the slow return to equilibrium as the clouds start clearing.

This brand new EP from the Cornish improv noise / post-rock / shoegaze trio is their first release since their acclaimed second album Sleepover, which came out at the end of 2021. It features two long tracks and vocals from their Sonic Cathedral bandmate Lorena Quintanilla from Lorelle Meets The Obsolete. “One of our recording sessions resulted in a couple of tracks that had a very different energy to what we’ve recorded to date because there was less of a motif-based approach to them, which made them kind of scenic,” explains Mildred Maude guitarist Matt Ashdown. “We felt like they were the best opportunity we’ve had for doing a collaboration. We’ve played a few shows with Lorelle Meets the Obsolete and really clicked – we love what she does in that band and also as J. Zunz – so we asked her to do both tracks. It feels completely right – a natural pairing.” “I love collaborations and this one was really special,” adds Lorena. “I feel honoured to be part of this EP. I always enjoy seeing Mildred Maude, I feel that one can grasp eternity during their sets. With ‘Half The Sky’, the vocal melody and lyrics came out immediately, I felt like I was in a room jamming with them and everything was slowly flowing and growing. As for ‘Shifting’, it was another story. It is such a beautiful song, and I didn't want to mess it up. They liked one of the takes I sent, so I kept on that track for the first part and for the end I looped vocals on my DL4.” “Vocals change everything and give it a different air of completeness, but Lorena understands our music, so she was able to maintain its looseness,” concludes Matt. “We’re stunned by what Lorena has done; she’s given both tracks a different life

KOU is the new project by Apolline Schöser (half of Nina Harker) & Thomas Coquelet.

Apolline & Thomas have been performing since 2022 under the KOU guise with 24 electronic harmoniums. Producing dense layers of tones & overtones. On their debut album KOU steers in another direction. The harmonium appears occasionally, but more prominent are delicate guitar pluckings, distant vocal effects, synths, flutes, piano strokes, a touch of musical magic and Apolline’s jazz not jazz vocals.

As soon as the needle drops it’s clear we are jump-cutting straight to the other side of the mirror. Cats purr, a woman sings as if asleep, drum machines stutter and warp and Alvin Lucier is not 'sitting in a room that is not different to the one you are not in now’. If you’re already confused, join the club. But, it’s the good kind of confused, a bewildering experience akin to the first time hearing the Faust Tapes or watching Inland Empire. Wait though, as pigeons coo and the tape machine clunk-clicks a gorgeous weirdo version of Roger's and Hart’s Blue Moon emerges to let you know this isn’t just dada splurge, there’s a genius pop sensibility at work here too. Side two takes us further into the murk with mournful detuned brass, stoned Joan La Barbara-esque vocalese and a droning Farfisa hymn, before ending with another too-tempting snatch of DIY pop. Some of the references are recognisable. All kinds of 70s/80s European art prog - think early Battiato, Pierot Lunaire’s Gudrun, Lucia Bosè and Gregorio Paniagua's Io Pomodoro etc etc. There’s a strong whiff of 90s us goof-off surrealism too- Bongwater, Siltbreeze, Royal Trux’s Twin infinitives, the damaged folkier side of Alastair Galbraith, Half-Japanese, early Beck even all feel relevant.

Like an oddball group of friends you might meet by chance and end up weirding-out with for days, the minds behind this deliciously odd music allow you to stay for a while in their strange subcultural world. You might not want to live here forever but a short trip, while it lasts, rewires your brain for the better.

The last twelve months have been a whirlwind for Henry Counsell and Louis Curran, the men who make up Joy (Anonymous). Having established themselves during the Covid-19 era by playing impromptu meet-ups on London’s South Bank, they have graduated to bigger venues, travelled to far-flung locales and recorded their second album, Cult Classics, while maintaining the spontaneous energy and irrepressible joy that made their name. Their music revels in the euphoria of being alive and all the feelings, good or bad, that come with it. It invites us into a community, draws us close and promises the night of our lives.

Recorded over the course of a year, the blueprint for Cult Classics was laid down over a two-week span at Imogen Heap’s Round House in east London. Joy (Anonymous) invited friends old and new to visit - they’d record live instruments in jam sessions upstairs and then retreat to a second room to flip and loop and generally mess with the sounds, moulding them into sizzling dance tracks. “Loads of people were coming up to me like ‘I thought this was going to be a dance record?’” Louis says, remembering the quietly beautiful music they’d be recording. “I’d be like, don’t worry about that, just keep playing.” He’d send it back to people later and they’d be floored - “That was my bit and you’ve made it... jungle!”

It was an organic and creatively fulfilling approach, one that didn’t allow any of the music to get stale or stagnate. As they built the tracks from the sounds they’d collected, Joy (Anonymous) would weave the new songs into their famously improvised live sets, testing them, refining them, taking note of the audiences’ reactions. In a year punctuated by a lot of travel, they’d also incorporate the voices of people they met along the way - “Beazley’s Poem”, which opens the record, features the words of a man who was working security at a Fred Again show at New York’s Terminal Five. “He was basically doing the opposite of his job and being a hype man, climbing on the fence and ramping up the crowd - we ended up hanging out with him - like, who’s this legend?” Louis explains. “He just speaks really amazingly about his life, all these amazing thoughts and opinions - he started jumping on the mic when we were playing, preaching these amazing messages to the crowd, like that we all need to be nicer to each other. The first time we played the record in its entirety, he introduced us and that’s the recording we’ve used.”

Joy (Anonymous) remain dedicated to the spirit of spontaneity. They shut a street down with a surprise waterside party in New York. On a trip to Copenhagen they played an impromptu set in a cafe, which turned into a house party and a night-long good time. In Lithuania, they ended up playing in a decommissioned prison. It’s harder, perhaps, to keep that spirit alive now that they are operating more within the confines of the music industry but they will keep lugging their kit to wherever the party calls for as long as they can. “I think if we lose that, we’ve kind of lost what makes us us,” Henry says.

Bursting with multi-genre reference points and disparate influences, Cult Classics is very much a dance album. The samples we made ourselves or we took from music that is quite different to dance music, but we definitely wanted to shout out a lot of the dance influences that we love,” Henry says. They listened to a lot of Daft Punk and Basement Jaxx as well as The Prodigy (“more rage stuff”), taking songwriting tips from their dance forebears, but also recording bits that felt more like jazz and motown (see: A Place I Belong and the lovely album closer, You’re In Or You’re Out). Emir Taha’s gentle classical guitar runs like a thread throughout Cult Classics, washing into the undertones of the record, tying it all together.

The album follows the beat of a night out, from frenetic, sweaty movement to the gentler winding down as the dawn breaks. At times it is euphoric, celebratory and pure, whirling fun, at others it seeks the joy in the darker emotions that life throws our way. 404 is designed to encapsulate everything about the Joy (Anonymous) journey so far. Skittering beats and ghostly vocals give way to vibrating house chords: sirens blare as we approach a dubstep drop. It’s dramatic and wild, ratcheting up, seeming to settle then hitting you with an intense and frantic breakdown before the ghostly vocal returns to lull us back into the world. It has the feel of a hungry cat playing with a mouse, toying with it before letting it get away.

What sounds like someone playing the spoons on playful, housey How We End Up Here is actually Louis’ restless habit of clicking his rings on everything, one of a myriad of calling cards and easter eggs that day one fans will recognise. They rework Miley Cyrus and Swae Lee’s Party Up The Street into a French-electro-inspired future classic, adding a note of melancholy to a tune that you can imagine hearing blaring from every car on a summer drive. The lyrics on Cult Classic are generally reassuring, inspirational, originally drawn from Henry in stream-of-consciousness freestyles. You’re fine the way you are, they seem to say - the repeated “No need to try” of A Place I Belong, the assurance that “It’s in me all the time” on In Me All The Time. Even the summery but regretful Did You Wrong hints at the growth that is possible from less than ideal behaviour. For Joy (Anonymous), joy isn’t about just being “happy” all the time - it’s about relishing every element of your being.

The name ‘Joy (Anonymous)’ is taken from the work Henry did with Alcoholics Anonymous groups: it is a way to build a community around sharing joy. Their impromptu live sets are known as ‘meetings’; they encourage fans to share moments of joy to their website. They care deeply about the scene they’ve come up in and are determined not to leave it behind. Every show is another chance to reach out and connect with people who love to come together and revel in music as loud as it can go.

Support slots for Fred Again and The Streets, wild B2Bs with Fred and Skrillex, and a set at Four Tet’s Finsbury Park all-dayer this summer have given the duo the opportunity to live out childhood dreams and introduced their infectious live shows to new audiences at huge venues.

With an album as assured and joyful as Cult Classics on the horizon (and a killer collab with The Blessed Madonna coming up), they’re only going to reach higher heights. But the essence of Joy (Anonymous) remains on the South Bank. Between shows at Ally Pally in September, they dragged their camping chairs and gear back down to the banks of the Thames: and it just felt right.

If there’s anything that defines SUDS, it’s friendship. Meeting through their love of the DIY scene currently emerging in Norwich, the band quickly found themselves gravitating towards writing songs together, and by Autumn 2021, Jack Ames (drums/vocals) joined Maisie Cater (vocals/guitar) and Dan Godfrey (guitar/vocals) to form a line-up that felt inherently natural. Stepping in on bass duties came Harry Mitchell, and things seemed to click instantaneously. Driven to keep the spark going they all upped sticks from their far flung edges of the county, pooled together to get a touring van and set to work. Just like their 2022 debut EP, In The Undergrowth, SUDS ventured down to Kent to record with producer Ian Sadler (Roam, Anavae), ready to explore the next chapter of their story. Step forth debut album The Great Overgrowth, a record brimming with addictive melodies and gorgeous moments of optimism. Their evocative and sometimes literary approach to lyrics takes inspiration from midwest emo and the 1960s Greenwich Village folk scene - Cater and Ames would regularly distract themselves while writing, gazing between the pages of books by Woody Guthrie, Allen Ginsberg, Bob Dylan and Brontez Purnell - which appears across their songwriting and would quickly become the foundation for their sound. Finding a delicate balance of sensitive lyricism dripping in warmth and killer guitar hooks, The Great Overgrowth follows on from the EP, telling the next part of the tale, as a tight knit group of twenty-something year old friends struggling and floating through life, to becoming more confident in their everyday lives and friendships while embracing change. The band are already off to a flying start, conquering sets at 2000 Trees Festival, The Great Escape and Truck Festival, as well as sold out shows with Spanish Love Songs, Pool Kids and Martha. Their talent for achingly intelligent, relatable lyricism and a heft for devil-may-care creative output already puts them heads above the rest. SUDS might be fresh faced but have the maturity and drive to become one of the most exciting emerging artists of 2023.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

TPG long term friend and homeboy Ben Oyefeso pulls out a trio of double-jointed cuts for the club and not, the German producer's debut EP ‘Lagerfeuer’ packs that left-of-centre house punch that’s come to define the label throughout the previous ten releases and certainly more than just that. Cutting his lane at the junction of oddball party music and deconstructionist boogie, Oyefeso’s maiden sortie floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee. A weird, buzzing slab of body-jacking electronics that doesn’t play by the book.

An off-road bouncer of a track, the opening number ‘Matt’ has us nodding our heads to a high-in-vitamin mix of jacking house programming and erratic acid patterns gone astray. Knee deep in 303-marinated puddles of psychedelic squelch, Oyefeso keeps swinging the pendulum between a proper syncopated 4x4 motif’d framework and frantic digressions into an abstract-leaning headspace.

A2 ‘Kool’ opts for a further sliced-and-diced rhythmic line of action, generously infused with twisted Rephlexian phrases and sustained waves of micro-house clicking. Topping off that strange journey, the title-track ‘Lagerfeuer’ merges polyrhythmic intricacies with a forward-moving, earwormy kind of linear groove, all laced with a spooky baseline that stretches out into a purgatory of frankly eerie dissonances. Enough with the words, just jump on board Ben Oyefeso’s ghost train for a seriously tortuous, nonconformist ride across dance music’s jagged ridges and most secret crevasses.

'Nothing left but silence' is Erik K Skodvin’s third solo album for Sonic Pieces and his most quiet to date. Subtitled as "Musical improvisations and quiet collages from the subconscious”, Skodvin reduces his instruments to guitar, reverb and amp - and creates a skeleton of eight hypnotic ragas that meanders in an eternal loop between ephemeral and singular.

Only on the horizon it’s possible to sense that Skodvin has also touched the neoclassical terrain in earlier productions - on Nothing left but silence, however, he acts as a twilight player who is not afraid of the coldness of endless space and who knows how to subjugate the shadowiness of the visible world. Carried by the noise of the amp and the occasional click of the effects pedals, a monolithic, reduced blues emerges, whose mediumistic quality nevertheless reveals that Skodvin's music always comes from the body - and as such is always searching for space. A space that - in this case - blends the vastness of the Norwegian steppe with the brittleness of American wasteland (as if Deathprod and Loren Connors were one and the same person), creating a persistent state between deceleration and absence of presence - that leads Skodvin ever closer to the inner essence of sound.

Initially recorded at Saal 3, Funkhaus, Berlin by Nils Frahm in 2015, the album has itself been subjected to silence as a forgotten relic, re-found and now released in a time where it might connect more with the contemporary state of mind. Welcome to the entrance to the periphery.