Suche:dance 6

Halo Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die ikonische Musik der ursprünglichen Halo-Trilogie zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl zu veröffentlichen.

Diese Box enthält 83 Titel aus den ersten drei Halo-Alben, die speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert und auf acht heavyweight LPs gepresst wurden. Jeder Soundtrack befindet sich in einer breitrandige Außenhülle und einer bedruckten Innenhülle. Diese wiederum befinden sich in einer stabilen Sammlerbox aus Karton mit silbernem Laminatüberzug und geprägtem Halo-Logo.

Das Original-Cover-Artwork stammt von Art Director und Concept Artist Isaac Hannaford (alias Rhizus / Space Ship Guru), dem ehemaligen Lead Concept Artist und Mitwirkenden an Halo 3, Halo 3: ODST und Halo Reach. Das zusätzliche Artwork der Box wurde von der Grafikdesignerin Maren Landsnes erstellt.

Halo: Combat Evolved war der Inbegriff des Konsolen-Ego-Shooters und sein Soundtrack legte den Grundstein für den legendären Sound der Serie. Der Soundtrack ist von verschiedenen Genres inspiriert und kombiniert schwungvolle Orchesterklänge mit marschierenden Militär-Snares, Prog-Rock-Percussion und - wer könnte den gregorianischen Mönchsgesang vergessen?

Für Halo 2 taten sich die Komponisten mit hochkarätigen Musikern zusammen und verpassten dem Halo-Thema mit dem neuen „Mjolnir Mix“ ein Heavy-Metal-Makeover. Es war der erste Videospiel-Soundtrack, der es in die Billboard 200 schaffte.

Halo 3 zeichnete sich durch Tribal-Drums und Prog-Rock-Refrains aus, während Klaviermelodien, begleitet von einem 60-köpfigen Orchester und einem 24-stimmigen Chor, dem Soundtrack emotionale Tiefe verliehen.

- 83 Tracks aus Halo: Combat Evolved, Halo 2 und Halo 3
- Speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert
- Cover-Artwork von Isaac Hannaford (ehemaliger Lead Concept Artist, Bungie)

Halo Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die ikonische Musik der ursprünglichen Halo-Trilogie zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl zu veröffentlichen.

Dieses Doppel-LP-Set enthält die Musik aus dem Spiel, mit dem alles begann, speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert und auf heavyweight LPs gepresst. Die Schallplatten befinden sich in einer breitrandigen Außenhülle und zwei bedruckten Innenhüllen.

Das Original-Cover-Artwork stammt von Art Director und Concept Artist Isaac Hannaford (alias Rhizus / Space Ship Guru), dem ehemaligen Lead Concept Artist und Mitwirkenden an Halo 3, Halo 3: ODST und Halo Reach. Das zusätzliche Artwork des Sets wurde von der Grafikdesignerin Maren Landsnes erstellt.

Halo: Combat Evolved war der Inbegriff des Konsolen-Ego-Shooters und sein Soundtrack legte den Grundstein für den legendären Sound der Serie. Der Soundtrack ist von verschiedenen Genres inspiriert und kombiniert schwungvolle Orchesterklänge mit marschierenden Militär-Snares, Prog-Rock-Percussion und - wer könnte den gregorianischen Mönchsgesang vergessen?

- 26 speziell remasterte Titel aus dem Spiel von 2001
- Cover-Artwork von Isaac Hannaford (ehemaliger Lead Concept Artist bei Bungie)

We are beyond excited to release new remixes of an absolute classic tune by none other than Aural Float, the legendary collaboration between Pascal FEOS, Gabriel Le Mar and Alex Azary. Originally released on their debut album „Introspectives“ on the mighty Elektrolux records back in 1995, „South Of The Clouds Pt.2“ quickly became the standout track of the longplayer and an absoute fan favorite as it encapsuled the very essence of the no nonsense hypnotic sound of Frankfurt at the time. On the A-Side, label head honcho Gregor Tresher presents an epic 11-minute journey that pays homage to the timeless original while updating it for the modern day dancefloor. Through layers and layers of subtle percussion lines, Gregor´s remix builds up over time, with bold breakdowns that gives the distinctive melody line time to breathe, only to eventually culminate in bringing the massive beat back to take things to the next sonic level. On the flip, our good friends Extrawelt deliver another outstanding production once again, that has their signature sound written all over it. The boys respectfully incorporate the original melody line, while perfecting their remix by adding their unmistakeable trademark sound and sophisticated beat structures. Aural Float, we salute you and are forever grateful for this seminal piece of music, that easily stood the test of time and will continue to do so for generations to come.

Die mehrfach preisgekrönte norwegische Jazzsängerin und Songwriterin Silje Nergaard präsentiert ihr neues Album "Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest". Dies ist eine zutiefst persönliche Hommage an ihre Eltern und eine musikalische Reise, inspiriert von Erinnerungen, Momenten mit ihrer Familie und Szenen aus ihrem Leben."'Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest' ist nicht nur der Titel eines Albums, sondern auch das, was das Leben im Moment ausmacht - die Erlaubnis, nicht alles perfekt durchdacht haben zu müssen", erklärt Silje Nergaard. "Diese Inspiration stammt aus einer Quelle, die mir sehr nahesteht: meinen Eltern. Sie haben mir gezeigt, wieviel Freude die Musik in ein Zuhause bringen kann - die Freude und auch die Traurigkeit, die sie in unsere Herzen bringt. Sie haben mir beigebracht, dass das Leben nicht immer bis ins letzte Detail geplant sein muss."Mit ihrer besonderen Fähigkeit, bewegende Geschichten mit Musik zu erzählen, vereint Silje auf "Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest" intime Jazzklänge mit orchestralen Arrangements. Dabei wird sie von führenden europäischen Jazzmusikern begleitet, darunter Helge Lien (Piano), Jarle Vespestad (Schlagzeug), Finn Guttormsen (Bass), George (Jojje) Wadenius (Gitarre) und Håkon Kornstad (Saxophon). Ergänzt wird das Ensemble durch das renommierte Stavanger Symphony Orchestra, dirigiert von Vince Mendoza, der die emotional-farbigen, bisweilen geradezu cineastischen Orchesterarrangements für das Album komponiert hat. Mendoza und Nergaard arbeiteten bereits bei dem Grammy-nominierten Album "A Thousand True Stories" zusammen.Besonders bewegend sind die persönlichen Einblicke, die Silje Nergaard in dieses Album eingebaut hat: "Es hat ein paar kleine Momente, die zeigen, wie mein Leben als Kind aussah. Ich habe eine alte Kassette gefunden, auf der ich mit meinem Vater spreche - da war ich gerade mal fünf Jahre alt. Darauf singen meine Schwester, meine Eltern und ich zusammen. Diese Aufnahmen haben mich tief berührt, und ich freue mich, sie mit euch teilen zu können."Das Album vereint die intime Atmosphäre eines Kammer-Jazzensembles mit dem majestätischen Klang eines großen Orchesters. Silje Nergaard beschreibt es als eine Sammlung von Erinnerungen, die die Vergangenheit feierlich nachvollziehbar machen, aber auch einen hoffnungsvollen Blick in die Zukunft werfen. "Das Cover des Albums zeigt ein altes Foto meiner Eltern, als sie jung und frisch verliebt waren - ein Moment purer musikalischer Freude, ohne Gedanken an den nächsten Tag. Dieses Bild und diese Stimmung haben mich inspiriert."Mit "Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest" zeigt Silje Nergaard einmal mehr, warum sie zu den herausragendsten Künstlerinnen der Jazzszene gehört: persönlich, authentisch und musikalisch brillant.

Produziert von Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Mannequin Pussy, etc.), der auch schon an der 2023er "Psychic Dance Routine" EP der Hardcore-Band Scowl aus Santa Cruz mitgewirkt hat, findet man auf "Are We All Angels" die giftige und antagonistische Band, die ihre Aggression durch eine expansivere Version ihrer selbst leitet. Das Album wurde von Rich Costey (Fiona Apple, My Chemical Romance, Vampire Weekend, etc.) gemischt. "Are We All Angels" ist geprägt von Entfremdung, Trauer und Kontrollverlust, und setzt sich größtenteils mit ihrem neu gefundenen Platz in der Hardcore-Szene auseinander, einer Gemeinschaft, die die Band in den letzten Jahren sowohl umarmt als auch zu einer Art Blitzableiter gemacht hat. Auf "Are We All Angels" erkunden Scowl auf Schritt und Tritt ehrgeizige neue Richtungen und verbiegen Genre-Normen. Sängerin Kat Moss macht die am unmittelbarsten erkennbare Entwicklung, indem sie einen strukturierteren und manchmal zarten Ansatz wählt. Sie spielt mit Harmonien und melodischem Feingefühl, das selbst die eingefleischtesten Scowl-Fans überraschen dürfte. Moss nennt eine breite Palette von Einflüssen außerhalb des harten Rock - alles von Billie Eilish bis Radiohead, Car Seat Headrest bis Julien Baker. "Die meisten von uns waren wirklich keine geübten Musiker, als die Band begann", gibt sie zu. "Es war in dieser Hinsicht sehr Germs-esque, wie die erste Hardcore-Band eines Babys, was großartig ist. Jetzt wissen wir vielleicht immer noch nicht, was wir tun, aber wir haben eine bessere Vorstellung davon, was wir tun wollen." Instrumental gibt die Band Einflüsse von Negative Approach, Bad Brains, Hole, Mudhoney, Garbage, Ramones, Pixies, Sonic Youth, Rocket From The Crypt und anderen an. Bassist Bailey Lupo merkt an: "Das Songwriting für die neue Platte war das bisher kollaborativste in der Geschichte von Scowl. Jeder hat so viele Ideen eingebracht, und wir konnten sie alle in Ruhe analysieren und uns Zeit nehmen. Wir haben alle so unterschiedliche Geschmäcker, Einflüsse und Persönlichkeiten, und das kann man auf diesem Album wirklich in jeder Ecke hören." Selbst durch diesen eklektischen Ansatz verlieren Scowl nichts von ihrer Schärfe und schaffen es immer noch, die Wut und Frustration zu vermitteln, die dahinter steckt. Sie sind zutiefst dem Ethos des Punk und seinem Gemeinschaftssinn verpflichtet. "Hardcore und Punk haben uns geprägt, wie wir arbeiten, was wir als Band tun wollen und wie wir uns beteiligen", sagt Greene. "Im Kern sind wir eine Punk- und Hardcore-Band, unabhängig davon, wie sich der Song verändert." Das Album wird von dem bereits veröffentlichten "Special" eröffnet, einen Song mit großer, hymnischer Energie, der die rohe Intensität von Scowl beibehält. Scowl haben sich schnell als einer der dynamischsten und fleißigsten Acts in der Rockszene etabliert und ausgiebig in den USA und international mit Bands wie Limp Bizkit, Destroy Boys, The Bronx, Militarie Gun, Show Me The Body, Zulu, Touche Amore, A Day To Remember, Speed, Sunami und vielen anderen getourt, sowie Festivalauftritte beim Coachella, Reading & Leeds, No Values, Outbreak, Primavera und Sick New World, um nur einige zu nennen, absolviert. Die Band - Malachi Greene (Gitarre), Bailey Lupo (Bass), Cole Gilbert (Schlagzeug), Mikey Bifolco (Gitarre) und Kat Moss (Gesang) - gründete sich 2019 und feierte 2021 mit ihrem Debütalbum "How Flowers Grow" ihren Durchbruch. Seitdem sind sie unaufhaltsam auf dem Vormarsch.

After a five-year hiatus, JKS makes a triumphant return to the iconic French label Molekul with a highly anticipated solo EP. Leading the release is the standout track, The Cult, a testament to JKSs evolution while staying true to the essence of his sound.

Built for the club, The Cult channels an undeniable sense of power through its driving rhythms and immersive energy. The tracks tribal undertones create an
almost ritualistic atmosphere, pulling dancers into its pulsating core. With expertly layered textures and a commanding structure, The Cult keeps the momentum
unrelenting from start to finish.

True to his roots, The Cult brings a distinct old-school vibe, laced with a plurality of influences that have defined his sound since the beginning. Its a journey through raw rhythm and immersive layers, a bridge between past and present, aimed squarely at making people move.

“Limbs of a Lion” arrives in a dazzling array of shimmering psychedelia, the newest offering on fleet.dreams’ own Vinezza records. Following “Echoes of Ego” his acclaimed inaugural 12”, “Limbs of a Lion” sees fleet.dreams’ artistry and form blossoming into realms of kaleidoscopic cadence & textural buoyancy. The production flows through a classically dubwise live analog mixing setup, new spheres of delays & echoes evolving fleet.dreams’ process to embody a unique & fully realized intersection of live instrumentation & dynamic synthesis.

Each track takes on its own entrancing sway, opening the listener towards beguiling spaciousness, experiences in rhythm, and a healthy dose of surrealist dreaming. “Masked in Porcelain” gleams with mystique, tinged with flanger in a firmly driving dancefloor mode, guiding us deeper into mysteries held by skylines and moonlight. “Secret of the Golden Flower” brings forth photosynthetic gated vocals built for eyes closed body movement, evolving from a cosmic conga groove confidently manifesting in ensnaring kinetic activation.

“iLL Enargeia” brings a touch of depth, stepping into tomorrow with a confident saunter, perfect for the blissful delirium of new beginnings or a space of breadth and reflection in the midst of astral metronomes. The closing title track “Limbs of a Lion” sees us out on a hopeful note, awash in bold luminescence & inviting us to go deeper and deeper within ourselves amidst the grounding embrace of bassline pressure.

Embodying a dance of intangibility towards new unknowns, “Limbs of a Lion” aspires to manifest the grace of movement through our beings - magnetizing and enhancing our danceable forms, frolicking beyond words together. Each track boldly stands on it’s own while orbiting a cohesive whole, perfect for all set and settings, a staple for the DJ crates, and a sign of a musicmaker with even more exciting creations on the horizon.

*words by Kiernan Laveaux
Early support from: Kiernan Laveaux, Daniel Rincón (NAP), 2Lanes & Amelia Holt

Peter Matson is a Brooklyn, NY based musician, producer, DJ, and founder and leader of the seminal NYC post-punk dance outfit Underground System.

Hotel PMis the debut LP from Matson and third release with Bastard Jazz having released two EPs Short Trips in 2019 and The Right Way in 2022.

Album features a who's who of artists collaborating with Matson including Toribio, Kendra Morris, Pahua, The Phenomenal Hand Clap Band, and core members of The Rapture, Ibibio Sound Machine, Poolside, and Sly5thAve.

Including Bastard Jazz, Matson has released music with Soul Clap, planet e, Razor N Tape, Heist Recordings, Heavenly Sweetness, and Hell Yeah.

Recording, production and mixing by Ross Orton (M.I.A., Arctic Monkeys) and Ewan Pearson (Depeche Mode, Confidence Man) between London, Sheffield, UK, Mexico City and Oaxaca, Mexico and Peter's home of New York City.

Press, Radio, and Sync support include Apple Music's WWDC22 Keynote Speech, Rolling Stone, DJ Mag, NTS, Worldwide FM, BBC Radio 6, KCRW, Ibiza Global Radio and more.

It’s always fun to let our audience peer through the party peephole with some hot behind-the-scenes info. For months, Black Light Smoke’s Control EP has supplied several of label head Tiga’s secret DJ weapons. In fact, he’s been sneaking out constantly after 9pm to play it out anywhere they’ll have him. And it’s little wonder to those who wonder why, as the Chicago-born producer’s top-flight mix of EBM, electro and Benadryl-soaked vocals has all the right people dancing.

Leadoff track "New York Is Dead” eulogizes the famous Big Apple Dance Party Scene in a way that will confuse the many who have embraced the city’s thriving “Groove With the Avengers” day rave series in Times Square. But the nihilism-liking doesn’t stop there, with the Friday-Til-I-Die attitude of “Black Hole at the Disco,” the pleather-dreaded post-cyberpunk of “Last Song Before Sunrise”, and the oxygen-deprived acid of “Break Your Back” culminating in the 11:45am-peak-time industrial trance of closer “Mind Control.”

Because we want this to be available to as many inhabitants of the blasted apocalyptic landscape we have pencilled in for 2034 or so, we have decided to make this release available both digitally and on vinyl. So whether you’ve managed to jack in illegally to a Spotify Wind Farm or you’re relegated to the hand-cranked misery of a Victrola while living in a barn or something, we’ve got you covered!

Posture and Sparkly Pony have joined forces on Sweat Repetition, a fresh 5-track split EP featuring remixes by Irelands finest Eoin DJ and dancefloor troublemaker 131bpm.

Dive into laid-back, soothing soundscapes combined with energetic drum workouts that will get your hips swinging.

Posture and Sparkly Pony have joined forces on Sweat Repetition, a fresh 5-track split EP featuring remixes by Irelands finest Eoin DJ and dancefloor troublemaker 131bpm.

Dive into laid-back, soothing soundscapes combined with energetic drum workouts that will get your hips swinging.

Electronic music at its best offers a tantalising glimpse of the future, capturing the moment of conception where new worlds and genres are brought into being. Amsterdam-via-Berlin label Q1E2 (standing for “quality first, ego second”) embodies this expansive promise on their new various-artists compilation, a thrilling speed-run through the cosmic outer-reaches of contemporary club sounds that highlights the work of essential emerging producers from around the globe.

Milan producer Jack Bags opens the proceedings with “Natural Thing”, an astral deep-dance immersion with zero-gravity synthesizer pads and skeletal dub percussion that echo out through the void, sensuous vocal samples arriving like scattered transmissions from the stereo of some long-lost spacecraft. datSIM’s “Influx” races through kaleidoscopic sci-fi spacescapes, presenting a futuristic reimagining of UK bass sounds with dextrous organ melodics and widescreen atmospherics. Mike Riviera and Marco Ohboy bring us back down for a more earthly kind of ecstatic experience, cranking up the humidity and coaxing out the endorphins with the appropriately-titled “Euphoria” - a rugged, rave-adjacent heater that cleverly rearranges elements of classic house and garage into a decidedly modern club workout.

Elsewhere there’s a distinctive undercurrent of jazz flowing through the compilation, mapping out thrilling new evolutions of the music on and off the dancefloor. Dr Sud’s mesmeric rhythm excursion “Zaffiro” unfurls like the coils of a cosmic serpent, tessellating percussion and slinking subs tracing intricate beat geometries. A Soft Mist Production’s “Upside Down Rainbows” settles in for the afters with smoked-out soulful atmospherics, syrupy vocals curling and turning in the air like smoke vapors from the last vestiges of a still-lit cigarette. The Rabbit Hole’s “Tail Groove” closes out the proceedings with a surprising bait-and-switch - opening on lustrous lounge piano that could have been comped straight from a Bill Evans record, the track quickly gives way to interstellar bass ‘n’ breaks. The producer’s canny use of cello licks adds a grounded, organic feel, jazz futurism that recalls Photek or LTJ Bukem’s sampling experiments.

Taken together, the label’s new compilation provides a snapshot of a scene in constant evolution, taking the temperature of the modern electronic scene and finding it to be in rude health.

Written by Matthew Fidler

j.o.y.s. is both the moniker of and the debut self-titled LP by the Los Angeles based artist Ramon Narvaez. j.o.y.s. is an acronym for “jump out of your skin”. While the phrase can conjure moments of shock and surprise, Narvaez, however uses the phrase as a foot lamp illuminating a path towards momentary transcendence through creating beautifully conjured ambient music that recalls work by Daniel Lanois, suss, Dean Hurley and Tim Hecker. While the pedal steel is prominent, j.o.y.s., as a project, is more in conversation with shoegaze and noise than what has recently been deemed ambient country. Heavy brutalist slabs of noise, swirling feedback create the sound bed of these songs. Collaborator Justin Gaynor’s pedal steel on this album operates as important connective tissue as both the road and the traveler between the light and shadow zones. Drones are wrapped in distortion, processed just below the threshold where we’d throw the word “harsh” around. Rather, there is a delicate dance between Gaynor’s top-rope pedal steel lines - always sweet and always just a bit mournful - with Narvaez’s ringing bass notes and noise chatter. j.o.y.s. revels in intransigence. Nothing can last. As Matt Colquhoun puts in the introduction to Mark Fisher’s heartbreaking Ghosts of My Life - our identity and relationship to the past are “portals in perpetual collapse”. Depression, friendship, longing are all briefly satiated while in the peak experience of creating something as a response to them. But even that is impermanent. These sounds - improvised, exploratory, ecstatic - are eventually edited, whittled down and pressed to wax - not tombs but portals to the past.

The term Miao is a very ancient Chinese misleading pseudo-ethnic categorisation, what we call the Hmong in western languages, a term recognised by colonial French Indochina. Miao became a generic term which does not reveal the diversity of 38 subgroups or 9 million people, mostly in Southern China Guizhou Province.

China having moved towards the market economy, a large number of minority regions have marketed a commodity available only to them: their ethnicity itself. Ethnic tourism has developed in a big way in China since the 1990s for Chinese and foreign tourists, and is often promoted as the way to create income in those areas for development. I usually stay away from ethnotouristic shows and try to get music which is not a commodity! I was based in Dali, Yunnan, China between 2006 and 2013.

With a growing international reputation for championing forward-thinking artists in the contemporary jazz space, Denmark"s April Records proudly presents the third album from instrumental collective Andorra. Their most ambitious undertaking yet, the audio-visual release invites audiences to fully immerse themselves in the energetic grooves, lyrical melodies, and colorful modern production that define their sound. Andorra"s eponymous 2021 debut reunited five friends who met at the Funen Music Conservatory and went on to work across a range of disciplines, from film music and orchestral work to large ensembles and chamber jazz. Realising their long-held desire to explore their collective creative potential, the ensemble describes their sound as "modern vintage", bringing together the nostalgic warmth of analog synthesis, present-day digital audio manipulation techniques, and jazz musicianship steeped in tradition. Taking a decisive step to perfect the production of their music, the quintet recorded at Lundgaard Studios - one of Denmark"s most prestigious studios - and placed the responsibility of mixing in the hands of their own synth-guru Peter Moller, whose deep understanding of the band"s sound made him best suited for the role. Taking a step back from the dark, brooding music often associated with the Nordic countries, "III" is a playful, high-energy, deep pocket collection of seven original pieces that are unapologetic in their grooving, in-your-face attitude. Driving complex drum parts, shimmering guitar textures, squelching synth pads, thick old-school bass tones, and lush timbres from Mads La Cour"s horns deliver catchy and danceable hooks as easily as they do spacious explorations of texture and vivid harmony. The entire album has been shaped into a concert film directed by photographer Jesper Van, set to premiere at select cinemas across Denmark - soon to be available online - offering global listeners a comprehensive experience of Andorra"s creative vision.

Liz Stringer has been a steadfast and captivating feature of the Australian musical landscape over a six album career. Venerated by her musical peers and devoted fanbase alike, Stringer's world-class vocals, multi-instrumental prowess, notoriously powerful live performances and story-rich, genre-defying songs place her among the most important songwriters of her era. Mirroring the scope and complexity of Stringer's sensibilities and accomplishment as an artist, The Second High draws from Stringer's wider influences of jazz, funk and soul, and takes her ability to dissect the minutiae of the human condition through song - and connect with her audience - to a new level. The album is redolent with motifs of self-actualisation, lessons learned, sharp and ever-relevant commentary on social issues, and a strong and consistent focus on justice and equality. Fuelled by keys-driven grooves ranging from poignant grand piano lamentations (When You Met Me), the Rhodes-led jazz odyssey of On the Level, hip-hop flavoured keys brightening the bottom-heavy and deeply funky The Second High, to virtuosic keys that dance between strings and soaring multi-layered vocals in To Survive, Stringer's seventh studio album is a fresh and engaging ride to a destination yet uncharted, even by Stringer's standards - thrilling, stark and transformative. If 2021's First Time Really Feeling was an excavation, The Second High is an exorcism.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.