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The Cat's Miaow return to World Of Echo with Skipping Stones: The Cassette Years '92-'93, their second compilation for the imprint, and the fourth in a loosely defined series of reissues associated with the group (also including The Shapiros' Gone By Fall: The Collected Works of The Shapiros and Hydroplane's Selected Songs 1997-2003). It's a smart selection of songs by one of Australia's finest independent pop music groups, whose initial run, across the nineties, was as mysterious as it was bewitching. A generous double album featuring thirty-five songs drawn from The Cat's Miaow's history, Skipping Stones lets listeners in on a bunch more secrets. The four cassettes that Skipping Stones draws from - Little Baby Sour Puss, Pet Sounds (both 1992), From My Window, and How Did Everything Get So Fucked Up (both 1993) - were released or assisted by Toytown, a Melbourne cassette label of rare taste, savvy and intelligence. Diving into that two-year period, Skipping Stones is full of surprises, rich with unexpected and inspired detours, while reminding everyone just how clear and distinct The Cat's Miaow's music was from the very start. Looking in from the outside, they always felt like a group that knew just what they were doing, but intuitive as they are, they weren't forcing anything: these songs always sound exactly what they need to be, rough edges, playful moments and all. The Cat's Miaow may have been bedroom dreamers, but their songs were richly informed, with the sweetest of girl-pop moves sashaying into walls of tremolo-d and distorted guitar, jangling six strings tangling with melodic bass that's pure Peter Hook/Naomi Yang, while the gentle trickle of a drum machine or the earthy twitch of brushes on drum skins provided the spine for Kerrie's and Bart's lovely, unforced singing. This double LP on World Of Echo feels like the very core of the thing - some of the most heartbreakingly beautiful, effortlessly lush and deeply moving pop music you're likely to hear. RIYL: Hydroplane, The Cannanes, Magnetic Fields, Belle and Sebastian, Jesus and Mary Chain

Telephone Explosion proudly presents the self-titled debut LP from Toronto’s UH HUH, out physically and digitally on April 14, 2023. The album features eight tracks of dub-damaged art rock which conjure a potent vision of spaced-out 1980s post-punks feeding their angular rhythms and bass-heavy grooves through layer upon layer of grime-spattered spring reverb.

There is a palpable sense of discovery and exploration throughout UH HUH’s 37 heady minutes. Elastic basslines and serpentine guitar phrases throb and glide, cutting through dubwise reverberations like hands moving through an opaque cloud of reefer smoke.

Formerly known as Teenanger, the reconfigured (and reinvigorated) group’s newfound sense of sonic identity is put on display the moment the door kicks open. The percolating spaciousness of opener “Somewhere Beyond” is followed by the cyclical grooves of “Redemption Pause.” Vocalists Christopher Swimmings and Melissa Ball each take respective turns at lead vocal duties, showcasing their contrasting yet complimentary styles.

“Babylon”, a slab of overcast, loping funk features both singers on the same track, alternating between Swimmings’ stoned syncopation and Ball’s saccharine melancholy. This juxtaposition leans against a backdrop of reverb-soaked drums, watery guitar chords and rippling trumpet.

The slinking, fractured grooves of “Rain (In The Afternoon)” and “Citrus Song” call to mind the deranged minimal dub-wave of Naffi or Vivien Goldman. Both songs feature lyrical content heavily inspired by the Florida swamplands, although the aural landscape on these tracks is decidedly more brutalist than Boca Raton. Two of the songs included here are reworkings of previously released Teenanger numbers. “Blinds Drawn” is reduced to its core elements of bottom-heavy rhythm, spliced guitar shanks and Swimmings’ murmured ruminations. “Good, You”, on the other hand, is completely re-imagined as a blissed-out melt of opiated bossa nova.

After countless hours of experimentation during the album’s recording sessions at Toronto’s Studio Z, the band decided to send their drum machines, snare drums and percussion through an obscure 1960’s Japanese Guyatone guitar amp with a notoriously ecstatic spring reverb sound. The result was immediately inspiring.

The dank, busted and clanking tones produced by the Guyatone evoke a muggy, humid atmosphere that mimics the photo on UH HUH’s cover. The process of re-amping is literally the means through which UH HUH found the sound of this record. UH HUH is a record that asks more questions than it does provide answers. This is searching music that requires that the listener lean into it, the more time you spend in between the beats, bars, notes contained within, the more vivid the picture becomes.

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.

Odd Nosdam really doesn’t need an introduction, unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last 20 years then undoubtedly you’ll know what’s up, and what an absolute humbling pleasure it is to now introduce Nosdam to the Where To Now? catalogue with two new cuts that flow from ethereal, meditative contemplation through to downtown abstracted machine damage..

The record opens with ‘End is Important’, A looping, spiritual lament which forces observation, or resolution around the concept of ‘Endings.’ Passages from Tsunetomo Yamamoto’s ‘Hagakure’ seep in and out of the mix throughout, where spiraling and glistening arpeggios dance across a glorious choral mantra, intended to elevate minds towards some kind of plume of awakening. This is a heady and deep cut which finds Odd Nosdam in full introspection mode.

‘Here to Know’ recalls the work of Patrick Cowley in his best downtown ultra slow swinging funk suit, or the more obvious nods to John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13 OST. However, this is far from a straight up ode to creeping machine funk - Nosdam’s injection of energetic, pulsing synth stabs move the piece into a more surreal territory, creating a masterful and experimental injection of life and colour into an otherwise smoked out landscape.

“Where I found myself when Where To Now? reached out - asking if I'd consider a vinyl release with the label - was over in Barcelona spending time with loved ones at my family's apartment in the district of Sant Gervasi.

After my initial contact with WTN?, I ventured north to Cadaqués to visit Salvador Dalí's house in Port Lligat, where Gala & Dalí spent some 50 summers. While inspired asf touring the glorious property, I captured recordings from a looping video screening in an open air theater. These recordings became the foundation of Here To Know.

Sometimes there’s a break in the road. End Is Important was realized after re-watching the Jim Jarmusch film, Ghost Dog. Stealthy and evanescent, a familiar voice carries this slow-diver with a message to the world warped cruiser in all of us.” - Odd Nosdam

Carl Finlow keeps on keepin' on. Not only is Finlow one of the most respected names in electro, a producer who boasts a sprawling catalogue that takes in a wide variety of aliases, but he's also spent recent years establishing himself as a mainstay for Sheffield's Central Processing Unit label. Soft Robotics, the new EP from Finlow's Silicon Scally project, is the fifth Silicon Scally release in five years to boast one of CPU's instantly-recognisable black-and-white covers.

The reason that Silicon Scally and CPU keep linking up is simple; they're a perfect fit for one another. Central Processing Unit has established itself as a haven for post-Drexciya producers since launching in 2012, and there are few artists better than Finlow at building on the Detroit group's sound. The union bears fruit once more on Soft Robotics, an EP of lithe machine-funk jams that will both do damage in the dance and also reward more concentrated home listening.

Things begin at a steadier speed than one might expect. Rather than barrelling off with the kind of sinewy roller one associates with the CPU name, Soft Robotics' title-track takes things at mid-pace. The groove reveals itself without hurry, Silicon Scally adding or subtracting elements - twitchy modular loops, pensive pads, the occasional blurt of low-end - atop the chugging bass/drums groove. It's a track which wins you over with guile rather than force.

As the name of subsequent cut 'Jitters' intimates, this one picks things up a little after 'Soft Robotics'. The tempo is higher here, the central beat more nervy. At their cores, though, 'Jitters' and 'Soft Robotics' are kindred spirits. Here, another slyly insistent bit of drum programming comes swirled up with all sorts of extraterrestrial tones, from little nuggets of melody supplied by the keys to electrifying synth stabs and percussive squelches.

Things limber up further still on first B-side 'Spin Ratio'. The track's 808 kicks are punchier than those of the A-side jams, and there's a dizziness to the bass tone which gives 'Spin Ratio' an intriguingly off-kilter feel. Atop the booming beat we find ourselves hypnotised by cells of melody and harmony interlocking or moving apart - particularly the staccato module at the track's heart. Sure enough, 'Spin Ratio' is the Soft Robotics joint which cleaves closest to Drexciya, invoking other Detroit disciples like Jensen Interceptor in the process.

After Soft Robotics picks up speed in the middle, closer 'Super Fluid Tones' brings us back to where we started. This track returns to the more measured delivery of the record's opener - there's a steady pulse to the drums, and once again Silicon Scally packs the mix with so many intriguing whizzes, bangs, blips and blurts that it's impossible not be won over by this tune's construction. 'Soft Robotics' and 'Super Fluid Tones' bookend Soft Robotics very nicely, and Silicon Scally's smart pacing gives the EP a lovely ebb and flow.

The ever-excellent Carl Finlow drops a Silicon Scally release via Central Processing Unit for the fifth year running. Like its predecessors, Soft Robotics is an excellent and deftly-crafted collection of modern machine-funk.

RIYL: Drexciya, Jensen Interceptor, Fleck E.S.C., The Advent

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic traveling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviors are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behavior has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behavior and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic travelling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviours are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behaviour has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behaviour and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Lurka ended the year on a high with a kick-ass new EP on his own new label Make Your Own. He is now set to start 2023 in an equally strong fashion with four more futuristic bass fusions. 'Wire' is a minimal stepper with bursts of bass and flitting percussive lines. 'Molten Drum' is another twitchy mix of malfunctioning computer sounds, refracted vocals and fizzing synths that keep you on edge then 'Machine' picks ups the pace with jumpy rhythms and militant snare work. 'Zone (Packet)' rounds out with a double-speed workout and juke patterns that head out on a cosmic journey.

The second Abstract Cuts release is an EP split four ways, but with new, unconventional approaches to the dancefloor at the heart of each submission and all using vintage drum machines and samplers. The Robot Dance Connection's 'Powers Of Ten' (R2d2 live edit) kicks off side one, shiny high frequency polish played off against a gorgeously stubborn techno beat, before the slinkier and smoother 'Gold Saucer' by Brunzi offers an equally danceable but less angular counterpoint. Flip it over and Tomska's 'Lethal Overdose' (Touch dub 2022) offers rushing sonics, off kilter snare damage and four to the floor thump, before Emille's 'Jeu Froid' completes the set in grimy basement style.

MILK GREY VINYL

100% GALCHER was by all accounts a game-changer when it landed in 2013 as an hour of original music from a relatively unknown producer ushered in by the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. Galcher Lustwerk's signature sound _ a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues _ felt like an epiphany, impossibly hypnotic and complete. Resident Advisor writes, "100% GALCHER laid out a louche, lysergic and resolutely black take on deep house." Pitchfork remembers the music's immediate impact: "It's the sort of gem you felt inclined to pass around" _ and by year-end list time, word-of-mouth intensified. It was Resident Advisor and Juno's mix of the year, and earned a top-ten placement in FACT Magazine's albums list, as well as Philip Sherburne's personal rundown for Spin." Since then, select songs from 100% GALCHER have seen small-run pressings, while the album has lived primarily on SoundCloud and YouTube as a low-key cult legend. The gateway into Lustwerk's now well-established catalog, known for its reliability as a late-night listen and its prophetic vision for the near future of underground dance music. RA would later name it a mix of the decade, citing its influence and imagination: "Original in every sense _ unknown, unheard and unbelievably good." In late 2022, marking ten years since he first recorded the material, Lustwerk returns to Ghostly International to release 100% GALCHER as a remastered limited-edition double LP. Lustwerk is a product of the Midwest. Growing up in Cleveland, he'd tape over his parents' cassettes and spend hours at his family computer recording loops and designing artwork for the jewel cases of burned CDs. In high school, he turned to Ableton Live and absorbed every electronic music magazine he could find at the local Borders Books store. As a college student at RISD, he played in noise bands, plugged into Providence's DIY scene via Myspace, and started DJing weeknights at bars downtown. There he connected with Young Male and DJ Richard, who would go on to found White Material Records and offer their third release to Galcher Lustwerk, an alias realized via CAPTCHA test, a perfect artifact of its internet age. By 2012, Lustwerk had drifted to New York City and settled into a graphic design job, quickly growing disenfranchised by office culture. "Some days I felt like a token, other days I felt invisible." At night, he and his friends were carving out their own space, throwing parties in small basements, office buildings, and off-beat karaoke bars in Manhattan, influenced by series such as Mr. Sunday in Gowanus and The Bunker at Public Assembly. The lifestyle started to bleed into Lustwerk's musical vision. He remembers the night it clicked in Providence, partying and listening to tunes with Morgan Louis and Alvin Aronson. He went back to New York and pieced together his bedroom setup: a Dave Smith Tempest drum machine, a Waldorf Blofeld synthesizer, and a TEAC cassette recorder. Early snippets went straight to SoundCloud, where Lustwerk tested the crowd. Comments and messages offered instant feedback. One DM proved to be the greenlight: from Matthew Kent, an invitation to his burgeoning mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. 100% GALCHER traveled fast and far. A phenomenon he could only enjoy for a short period before discovering that nearly all the masters of the tracks got wiped by water damage to his computer. "The only copies were now on the 192kbs mp3 mix I sent Matt." Until now, after Lustwerk revived the lost tracks and handed them to Josh Bonati for remastering. "The original mix was never mastered so I hope older fans can find something new here." Hearing the enhanced set for the first time delineated by tracklist reveals this was a proper album all along. Sly synth interludes (all titled "Stem") clear the air for raspy house anthems like "Fifty" and "Parlay," the set's original breakout. Themes present across Lustwerk's catalog first materialize in this iconic run _ the link between the meditative state of Midwest driving and the solitary comedowns of nightlife. Lust- werk, the narrator, is an elusive character, a secret agent of the club, embodied by the hooks: "One minute I'm on / next minute I'm gone," he reminds us on cult-favor- ite "Put On." These narcotic, one-line refrains stick with you; look no further than the original YouTube upload of "Kaint" to know that fans can't let these phrases go. While recorded alone, 100% GALCHER was a collective moment. A decade later, Lustwerk sees the legacy as shared: "Making music can be an alienating experience, especially for DJs who travel a lot, it's all super isolating. It's easy to express lone- liness in the music itself, but when it comes down to getting things done, putting music out, you def should go on that journey w other people, friends, or maybe just a group of people online, build things with your friends then they can build to help you."

The gift that keeps on giving, Purple Disco Machines' 'Exotica (Deluxe Album)' is being treated to some epic remixes of your favourite songs now available on vinyl.

Next in line for that special touch, extended mixes of 'At The Disko' and 'Don’t Stop', both certified floor fillers, destined to do damage.

Soul Jazz Records are releasing PUNK 45: I’m A Mess, a new collection of punk and D-I-Y rare 45s from the UK, as a one-off pressing limited-edition double album with a bonus 45 exclusive
for Record Store Day 2022.

Soul Jazz Records’ long-lasting Punk 45 series are high-quality editions of early punk 45s. While previous editions have focussed on the early days of punk in Los Angeles, Cleveland, Akron, France, and proto-punk, this new edition focusses on mainly do-it-yourself, or self-released 45s, all made in the UK in the early days of punk.
While only a handful of Punk 45s were released in 1976, the following two years produced an avalanche of them. Aside from the few punk bands who signed to major labels, many of these singles were self-released private press 45s or independent label 45s. With limited distribution and access to the media, many of these sunk without trace and were lost in history. This album features many of these independent punk 45 gems, lost nuggets of gold from the sea of time!
The bands featured here come from all across the United Kingdom. Here you will find The Drive, Scotlands’ answer to the New York Dolls, Dansette Damage from Newcastle, Stormtrooper, from the Isle of Wight and many more - a snapshot of some of the finest private-press 45s ever made.

Other bands include Cybermen, The Exile, Neon as well as the early punk incarnations Johnny and The Self-Abusers (who later became Simple Minds) and The Killjoys (with vocals by Kevin Rowland who later formed Dexy’s Midnight Runners).

These are all one-off and super rare releases from bands that you have probably never heard of! – totally hidden gems from the wastelands of the early days of punk. Totally in keeping with the
spirit of the time, this is high-octane, righteously-independent - DIY or die!

The RSD special edition comes with an exclusive 45 of Stormtrooper ‘I’m A Mess’/’It’s Not Me’.

Damage machine delivers a chanting speedcore industrial pearl.
Infamozz is here the more "normal" hardcore tune : an industrial banger.
Komprex goes extreme speedcore, hardish shaker !
The flip opens with a Qualkommando acid uncompromised style. Massive superb savage tune.
Infared is my fave... with a clear clean minimal speed hard HELP tune, travelling in a flashcore, full of life and surprising sequences. Big structure here !
Lawrencium goes even more extreme and success into doing an overspeed hardcore with a high definition... probably the best 400BPM vinyl release of the year !

Tape

SectorSept’s ‘954’ is a boldly original record, one which announces the arrival of a singular musical mind. Its creator states that he crafted this EP by trying to make tracks that were ‘a representation of how I believe music would sound in some distant land in the future’. On ‘954’ this vision takes flight in the form of eight multifaceted, genre-defying electronic productions.

To unpack this record one must first understand the myriad influences which feed into SectorSept’s style. The producer grew up between the UK and Florida - indeed, the record’s title references the area code he had while in the USA. His formative years were spent soaking in the dancehall sounds he heard around him in his Jamaican household as well as techno, jazz, Miami bass and the city’s ‘Love 94 Smooth Jazz’ radio station.

All of this and more can be heard in the fabric of ‘954’. The drum programming alone reveals SectorSept to be someone with extremely wide-ranging musical tastes. Cuts such as ‘Get Ready For The Programme’ and ‘Be There’ are powered by deft beats that have Miami bass, Jersey Club, juke and more in their make-up. Drexciya-adjacent machine-funk creeps into the mix in ‘954’s mid-section, ‘Golden Third Eye’ touches on trap, and closing duo ‘Tropic Universe’ and ‘Prize’ bring dancehall dembows to the fore.

The productions of ‘954’ are simultaneously driving and chilled, coasting nicely yet still plumbed with enough bite to do damage on the dancefloor. It’s a feeling which is heightened by SectorSept’s gorgeous textural work. Several of the tracks here soften up collages of vocal clips with wistful, dreamy synths - see the way that club-caller snippets orbit Boards Of Canada-esque keys on ‘Get Ready For The Programme’ or how closing cut ‘Prize’ works both the classic Warp/Planet Mu sound and the pitched-down stylings of DJ Screw. It’s a rich and fully-formed artistic aesthetic, something which is all the more impressive when you consider that ‘954’ is SectorSept’s first official release.

That said, while the overall flavour of ‘954’ is SectorSept’s and SectorSept’s alone, one also finds links to Gobstopper’s previous output here. Those dancehall influences on ‘Tropic Universe’ and ‘Prize’ line the record up with Gobstopper drops like Otik’s ‘Thousand Year Stare’ while the emotive, soulful synth work that has long been a Gobstopper calling card is also in evidence here. Perhaps the thing about ‘954’ which makes it feel most at home on Mr. Mitch’s label is SectorSept’s imaginative futurism. SectorSept is a keen scholar of anime composers Kenji Kawai and Joe Hisaishi, and as such it is no surprise that there is a slightly fantastical quality to ‘954’. This is most boldly expressed on ‘Intuition Segment’, a magic-realist vignette which looks to Oneohtrix Point Never.

Blending ethereal textures with hybrid electronic grooves, SectorSept’s ‘954’ EP uses the sounds, influences and cultural experiences that have shaped its creator in order to build a vibrant vision of the future.

From the many musical lives of artist Glenn Donaldson emerges The Reds, Pinks and Purples, a project that sifts out the purest elements of pop music and in the process chronicles the point of view of an assiduous San Francisco-based songwriter. The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ third album, called Uncommon Weather, is both an elusive portrait of San Francisco––during one of its fluctuations as an untenable place for musicians and artists––and also a self-portrait, however inverted, of a songwriter who has dispatched another treasured collection of timeless sounding DIY-pop songs.

How The Reds, Pinks and Purples arrived here is a story with many roots, the most consequential of which is perhaps the musical aftermath of his earlier band, The Art Museums, whose brief tenure in the late ’00s coincided with an explosive period of the Bay Area rock scene and was followed by a hermetic musical period of Donaldson’s. Disenchanted with the dissolution of his band, Donaldson averted the DIY-pop sound with an instrumental, conceptual project called FWY! but meanwhile started a habitual songwriting practice, sharing nascent songs with friends in an email exchange. In 2013–2014, The Reds, Pinks and Purples took shape as the moniker for Glenn’s most direct expressions in the DIY-pop mode, enabled by this new disciplined output. By then, San Francisco was already a changed place. The tragic loss of his former bandmate in Art Museums was another source of discontinuity and rupture. You can hear in The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ earliest songs this grappling with life, anxiety, and atrophying subcultures. For an artist with an overriding interest in the aesthetic principles of discrete musical genres, this turn toward his immediate world for subject matter was a major shift, setting The Reds, Pinks and Purples apart from Donaldson’s other musical ventures.

Preceding the release of Uncommon Weather was the Reds, Pinks and Purples’ 2nd album, one of the record buying joys of 2020, You Might Be Happy Someday, and, earlier, their first proper full length Anxiety Art, a title that might nod to the classic Television Personalities song “Anxiety Block.” Donaldson’s music continuously reckons with the influence of Dan Treacy, whose own forays into drum-machines, echo, and reverb in the early 1990s is an important reference point for The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ musical template. Paul Weller, Robert Smith, and Sarah Records also come to mind. But, as important, Donaldson sees his projects as visual expressions too, often blurring the lines of records and physical art objects. They could just as well be “art multiples” as well as records. The pattern for Reds, Pinks and Purples’ records is to document San Francisco’s Inner Richmond district in photographs: the muted, pastel colours and unpeopled compositions unfold in a series of images that read like counter-melodies to Donaldson’s distinctive voice, a vocal tone that always complements the colours.

Self-recorded and mostly self-performed, Uncommon Weather features pinnacle versions of songs Donaldson has honed since the beginning of the project. The album arrives with grateful timing, quick on the heels of You Might Be Happy Someday, and alleviating, for a brief window at least, whatever it is that keeps us coming back to this elemental music. Donaldson imagines his listeners are just like himself: fascinated and addicted to the spiritual power of uncomplicated pop classics. Anthony Atlas

Up to kick off 2021 in the most adequately frenzied, thoroughly corrosive fashion, DDS04 serves up a quintet of chrome-tanned, hi-velocity beats courtesy of Italian hardware fetishist Anna Funk Damage (previously heard on the likes of Mind Records, Lux Rec, Lazy Tapes and more) and Austrian-Hungarian outfit Dutch Courage - alias Superskin & Új Bála - each of whom step up to the plate to deliver an exquisitely ear-wormy slice of their deranged industrial gospel.

A-side starts off to the sound of AFD's hard bouncin' "48 Hours Death" - a raw-cooked deluge of head-reducing EBM grit, flaring binary signals and Giallo-infused arpeggios out a blood-stained Suspirian tale. Fear for the deadly scalp hunters lurking in the club's darkest nooks, they've just sniffed out your trail.

Brutal churner "Youssef" picks up the torch and pulls out the quake-inducing breaks without further ado, dressed out with languorous Orientalistic melodies and steely distortions tailored to bend mind by the dozens. Forged in the furnace, the full-out punk-minded "I Come From Fire" rounds off the side on a drum and bass-heavy note, drawing as much from 60s psych-garage as it does from 80s deconstructionist tape music.

Flip sides and here's Budapest unit Dutch Courage taking the reins with the off-kilter treat "Hand Of The Sword" - navigating a weird zone of its own, floating astride post-apocalyptic Bristol bass, sliced-and-diced abstraction and overly textured yet equally bone-bruising riddims.

Wrapping up the journey with both force and serenity, "Neo-Soulmates" follows a similar path with its warped synth flexions and raucous machine cries making the rounds from one end of the spectrum to the other effortlessly, merging to give birth to something genetically contrasting from any contemporary. A most fitting finale to an EP that celebrates and encourages sonic bizarro in all its forms and manifestations.

Andy Gill begann mit der Planung einer Compilation zum 40-jährigen Jubiläum des stilprägenden Gang Of Four Debütalbums "Entertainment!" (1979), seine Witwe Catherine Meyer setzte nach seinem Tod 2020 die Arbeit fort und wandelte zusammen mit allen Beteiligten das Projekt in einen Tributsampler mit dem Titel "The Problem Of Leisure - A Celebration Of Andy Gill & Gang Of Four" um. Jede:r teilnehmende Künstler:in interpretierte einen Track nach Wahl aus Gang Of Four's 40-jähriger Karriere nach ihrem/seinem Gusto neu. Es beteiligten sich mehrere Protagonisten der internationalen Rock/Alternative-Szene, darunter Tom Morello & Serj Tankian (Rage Against The Machine), IDLES, Herbert Grönemeyer, Helmet, Gary Numan, Flea & John Frusciante (Red Hot Chili Peppers), Killing Joke, Warpaint, 3D aka Robert Del Naja (Massive Attack), La Roux, The Sounds, The Dandy Warhols, LoneLady, Hardcore Raver In Tears (aus China), Sekar Melati (aus Japan), u.v.m. Das Artwork steuerte der britische Kult-Künstler Damien Hirst bei. Das Doppelabum erscheint als 2CD Digipak, 2CD Casebound Book, 2LP Gatefold, limitierte MC.

Speedcore crazyness is back... USN legendary label restarts their Project, full of olskool head and newskool boyz !
Superb tune.. .crazyness at its max from the ultimate guitar heroes to the dirty minimalists machineguns...

DO NOT MISS THIS UNIQUE PEARL !

The globe-trotting Robert Millis returns to Helen Scarsdale for this beautifully fragile album of dissolved glass rendered as a collage of recontextualized minimalism. To astute listeners, Millis should be a household name due to his work in the unpredictably diverse Climax Golden Twins as well as his impeccable curations for Sublime Frequencies (collections include the Deben Bhattacharya: Men and Music on the Desert Road and Indian Talking Machine books). Hie previous solo work include Relief (released here on The Helen Scarsdale Agency in 2013) and The Lonesome High for the Sun City Girls’ Abduction Records in 2016. His scholarship into the hidden corners of music across the world has also earned him Guggenheim and Fulbright fellowships.

Related Ephemera is an album composed mostly from the hiss, the crackle, the surface noise of 78rpm shellacs and wax cylinders. “Horrifying,” Millis explains “is the concept to record collectors that vinyl degrades and can be easily damaged. however, initially records were considered ephemeral, especially 78rpm records. They were novelties. Fleeting. Entertainment.” Millis intends for the album to be a feedback loop whereby the patina of handling, playing, living with the record will circle back to the original source material. Furthering that metaphor, Millis amplifies and dilates feedback tones generated from his collection of vintage gramophones.

That said, Millis does cite the intrusion of exactly one field recording, a broken toy, and a few notes from a cello. But the construction of these rarified tones, crispy textures, ghostly rattles, and fluid resonance that ripples through all of Related Ephemera has its origins in the tactile nature of the vinyl medium. It’s hardly the stuff of sentimental nostalgia though. Related Ephemera is more an act of time travel, slipping backwards and forwards with the scratch of a needle (Watch out! What pre-recorded needle jump sound is not your turntable going haywire!). The emotional core to the album is that of a resigned melancholy, almost Bergman-esque in its starkness but not without a brief moment of dark humor.

Here is an album that aligns itself aesthetically with Nurse With Wound’s Soliloquy For Lilith, Philip Jeck’s more languid collages, and even some of Harry Bertoia’s sculptural atmospherics.

The vinyl was mastered and cut by Helmut Ehler at D&M Berlin, whose expertise was necessary given that part of the original compositions from Millis’ reworked surface noise were exceedingly problematic to cut. The D&M cut does temper the composition into a mysterious, diaphanous cloud; where the digital-only mastering provides a cascade of insects gnawing within your inner ear. Two facets. One piece of music.