quête:dawn wall

Out of print as a stand-alone release for decades since its original 1974 issue. Produced by George Harrison, Shankar Family & Friends is an almost-forgotten masterwork – an emotional and sonic pact between two like-minded souls to both advance their spiritually minded bond and unite musical styles, cultures, and sounds in wondrous fashion Contributions from Ringo Starr, David Bromberg, Billy Preston, Nicky Hopkins, Jim Keltner, Klaus Voorman, and a host of virtuosic Indian musicians add to a diverse album that melds Eastern and Western traditions; encompasses jazz, funk, bhajan, Indian, and pop; and represents the spirit and breadth of Harrison's Dark Horse Records imprint.

Memorable contributions from an A-list of American and English musicians — Ringo Starr (drums), David Bromberg (electric guitar), Billy Preston (organ), Nicky Hopkins (piano), Jim Keltner (drums), Klaus Voorman (bass), Robert Margouleff (Moog), Malcolm Cecil (Moog), Tom Scott (saxophone) included — add to the richness of a set that melds Eastern and Western traditions. These “names” mesh with a host of Indian virtuosos — Alla Rakha, Ashish Khan, Kamala Chakravarty, Hariprasad Chaurasia included — who turn Shankar Family & Friends into a journey laced with percussive, string, and vocal components that aren’t soon forgotten.

Throughout, Shankar Family & Friends remains true to its title — a mesmerizing record named to reflect the group participation approach of its creators. The idea started when Shankar told Harrison about a ballet he wrote. The Beatle, who first met Shankar in June 1966 — roughly a year after Harrison became interested in Indian music after overhearing it in a restaurant while filming Help! — immediately was convinced they needed to record it. Harrison’s staunch admiration of Shankar and serious approach to Eastern styles are reflected throughout the album.

Indeed, for Harrison, Shankar Family & Friends marks the culmination of a years-long effort to master the sitar, study Hinduism, and incorporate elements such as drones, unusual chords, and expressive picking into his own songs. The seeds of this unique collaboration can be heard in Beatles works such as “Norwegian Wood,” “Love to You,” and “Within You Without You.” Both musicians were also fresh from performing at the 1971 Concert for Bangladesh shows. Yet Shankar Family & Friends remains entirely unique in each visionary artist’s history — and ultimately, led to a collaborative tour Harrison and Shankar staged across North America.

Encompassing jazz, funk, bhajan, Indian, and pop, Shankar Family & Friends is thematically split into halves. Side One reveals Shankar’s uncanny ear for melody — even when applied to Western forms. The lead-off “I Am Missing You,” the first single ever released by Dark Horse Records and reportedly the first pop composition Shankar completed, underscores his skills as a composer and global ambassador. Beautifully sung across three octaves by his sister-in-law, Lakshmi Shankar, the devotional song features multiple drummers and production that mirrors Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound approach. Harrison plays autoharp and guitar; Starr sits in on drums; Scott handles flute and soprano saxophone. It’s the inviting start of a musical adventure teeming with color, majesty, and mysticism.

A second version of the track — designated with a “(Reprise)” tag — appears minutes later. Unfolding in different ways, it follows a folk ballad structure stitched together with Indian instrumentation. Here, according to Shankar, the musicians “attempted to convey the sounds and atmosphere of Vrindavan, the ancient holy place where Krishna grew up.” Both renditions speak to the cross-continental fusion that came so naturally to Harrison and Shankar, whose oversight on the side’s other vocal tracks ensures listeners familiar with Western methods gain easy access to the hypnotic allure of his native country’s music.

Nowhere is this more evident than on Dream, Nightmare & Dawn (Music for a Ballet), the side-long piece that served as the genesis for Shankar Family & Friends. Launched with an airy overture and unfolding across three movements, the mostly wordless suite features everything from call-and-response interplay and classical lyricism to uptempo dance figures, stacked rhythms, and intoxicating grooves. Blurring the lines between contemporary and traditional, and Western and Eastern, the inspirational work is the exclamation point on a record that defined “world music” well before the term became co-opted as a catch-all genre.

Dass PALE noch mal auf die Bühne zurückkehren, war nicht vorgesehen. Doch nach dem finalen Album "The Night, The Dawn And What Remains", mit dem sich die Aachener Band Ende 2022 selbst ein Denkmal setzte, ging es nicht anders... Am 02.03.2023 spielten PALE ihr letztes und größtes Konzert, in einem ausverkauften Gloria Theater in Köln. Über 900 Fans erlebten eine Nacht, die immer noch nachhallt. Ein Konzert, das man nicht vergessen kann. Dieser Abend, bei dem PALE von zahlreichen Künstler*innen auf der Bühne unterstützt wurden, musste für die Ewigkeit festgehalten werden. Am 08.12.2023 erscheint deshalb der (fast!) komplette Mitschnitt des Konzerts als 3fach-LP - "Bigger Than Live" ist das große Finale und der Schlussstrich unter PALE. Für Nächte wie diese wurde Musik erfunden.

Synth pioneer and musical polymath, Wally Badarou is a genius. But you know that already. A vinyl version of his majestic Colors Of Silence has been craved by the Balearic cognoscenti ever since its low-key 2001 release. Indeed, when we first started work on Be With, we asked some pals with exquisite taste what their dream release would be. We asked Balearic legend Moonboots and, without hesitation, he said Colors Of Silence by Wally Badarou. We didn't know Wally had made this album. And most still don't. But that's about to change.

Colors Of Silence is ostensibly a new age album. As ever though, Wally's sophisticated synth textures and expressive keyboard runs are so full of character, so full of life, that this work of art transcends any easy genre categorisation. It's simply stunning, throughout. It sounds like A.r.t. Wilson or Suzanne Kraft, with traces of CFCF and Jonny Nash. But it was made a good decade earlier than the work of these modern giants. Sometimes, it doesn't seem far from some Larry Heard albums.

Island Records founder Chris Blackwell's friend Nathalie Delon asked Wally to provide music for the yoga DVD she was to release. Lack of time on both sides made them agree on using "quality demos" Wally had in his ideas bank. It's understandable why Colors Of Silence remains somewhat of a lost gem. As Wally explains: "Total lack of promotion made it an 'intimate' release, which was exactly what I was looking for: just a buzz-maker and time-buyer that would allow me to concentrate on the real thing as soon as I'd have time, which could also turn into a rare collecting item later, once the final versions made their way to success. You never know."

Over the years, Colors Of Silence has become a true cult record for the ambient/Balearic heads.

The beguiling but brief "Dance In The Dust" is the shuffling, hyper-percussive, hypnotic opener. It gives way to the deep serenity of "Amber Whispers". It's a gliding, divine, mini melodic masterpiece. It'll make you swoon in its extreme beauty. The bright and breezy "Where Were We" follows, a tropical, reggae-tinged bounce through the islands.

The uptempo groove is maintained on the keys-drizzled soca-funk of "The Lights Of Kinshasa" before Side A is rounded out with "Pictures Of You". It starts with stately, melancholic, unadorned piano and this alone would make for a beautiful song. But Wally always gives us that bit extra and he effortlessly introduces warm, dreamy pads and minimal, slo-mo percussion to augment a frankly stunning piece of work.

Ushering in Side B, Wally's mesmeric piano playing is to the fore again, in the intro to uber-chilled "Serendipity For Two". The playing becomes more mellifluous as the track progresses and adds warmth through exotic percussion, woodwind, sweeping synths and digi-drums. It has echoes of, er, Echoes. It segues seamlessly into the more propulsive, wavy "Smiles By The Millions". If you're not nodding and grinning along widely to the gently throbbing bassline underpinning this, we can't help you. The meditative "Higher Still" follows, cinematic in feel and ever so slightly sinister with the strings. It sounds particularly Badalamenti-esque, if you ask us.

That unmistakable, almost peculiar Badarou funk - so lyrical, so texturally rich and so rhythmically spacious - is all over "Oriental". Next up, "Days To Wonder" brings the serenity back, insistent yet melodic keys, as if played in a place of worship, coupled with birdsong, conjure a kind of instant nostalgia for halcyon days of youth. The contemplative "Dawn Of Europa" is a sombre, beatless, ambient journey whilst the glorious, too-brief "Crystal Falls" features soft percussion and sparkle before fully glistening with some gentle head-nod beats. Wally brings this incredible collection to a mellow, tender close with the graceful "Purple Lines".

There can be few artists more under-appreciated given their vast influence than Wally Badarou. His solo work practically defined the sound of the Balearic DJs of the 1980s, and thus the more sophisticated sound of dance culture thereafter. A synth specialist, Badarou was the long-time associate of Level 42. He was one of the Compass Point All Stars (with Sly and Robbie, Barry Reynolds, Mikey Chung and Uziah "Sticky" Thompson), the in-house recording team of Compass Point Studios responsible for a series of albums in the 1980s recorded by Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Mick Jagger, Black Uhuru, Gwen Guthrie, Jimmy Cliff and Gregory Isaacs. Badarou's keyboard playing could also be heard on albums by Robert Palmer, Marianne Faithfull, Herbie Hancock, M (Pop Muzik), Talking Heads, Manu Dibango and Miriam Makeba. He also produced Fela Kuti. Phew!

Meticulously remastered and cut by both Simon Francis and Cicely Balston respectively, it has been pressed to the highest possibly quality at Record Industry in Holland. Special thanks must go to Apiento from Test Pressing who first introduced us to Wally and facilitated all those early zoom meetings. It couldn't have happened without his help. Not least on pulling the art together, too, which features striking original photography by Mads Perch. Benji Roebuck of Roebuck Press did his thing brilliantly in art working the whole package to completion. All in all: essential.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Ein wunderbar inspiriertes Kinoerlebnis von Anfang bis Ende. Eine Meisterklasse in Symphonic Extreme Metal, Mythologie und Storytelling!

Nach den heldenhaften Taten des atlantischen Volkes in 3.6.2.4 werden diejenigen, die das Glück hatten, den großen Fluten zu entkommen, nun an einem neuen Land angeschwemmt. In den Ländern und Meeren hat sich nun die Nachricht über die Länder und Meere verbreitet, die überlebt haben.

Es kursieren Geschichten über die Überlebenden, die die Gunst der Götter gewonnen haben. Diese Rätsel von Sykophanten verursachen große Unruhe und setzenChaos und Zerstörung in Bewegung. Aus Angst wird das Siegel der Büchse der Pandora entfernt, in der Hoffnung, ein gewisses Gleichgewicht der Kräfte auf der Erde herzustellen. In der Zwischenzeit verursachen die Gier und das Verlangen der Menschheit katastrophale Folgen und bringen eine so verheerende Zerstörung hervor, dass die Geister von Atlantis noch einmal zu den Drei Säulen reisen, um ein Portal zu öffnen. Riddles Of Sycophants ist eine Sammlung von Geschichten mit vielen bekannten und weniger bekannten Figuren aus verschiedenen Mythologien.

Die Geschichten des Albums sind inspiriert von der Folklore verschiedener Folklore verschiedener Nationen.

The Madlib Invazion Music Library Series Entry #4: Dan Ubick (Connie Price & The Keystones, The Lions) explores the realms of Canyon Funk. This is the next up in a series of music library releases, with future volumes produced by DJ Muggs, Karriem Riggins and more. The Madlib Invazion Music Library Series was created by Madlib and Egon to give their creative friends a chance to stretch out and indulge in whatever type of music they wanted. This music was created for easy, one-stop clearance in film and television synchronization usage and for sampling. You can also enjoy these albums in the way that many do with the best of the best vintage library catalogs – listen, ponder, repeat.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

When Transform-I was released in 2009, Bristol’s Dubkasm were unmistakably prominent on the reggae scene but it is this LP - their tenth release - that put them on the map and cemented their status as outernational roots innovators and one of the most creative outfits in reggae. By 2006, Jah Shaka had been rinsing their percussive vocoder smash ‘Zulu Dawn’ (track 15) at the end of every dance for close to three years. Dubplates from the LP became firm favourites on some of the greatest soundsystems in the world, including Aba Shanti-I, Iration Steppas, and Channel One.
DJ Stryda and producer Digistep’s reputation grew still further when the pair managed to get an extremely rare vocal from the legendary Dub Judah, who at the time had not voiced a tune for many years. The resulting 7”, ‘From the Foundation’ (track 2) was the first tune to be released from Transform-I, an album which took the music world by storm with its singular blend of a deep, conscious roots reggae sound with instrumentation that drew on Digistep’s Brazilian heritage.

As the great DJ and journalist Steve Barker said in his rave Wire magazine review of the initial release, ‘Like many innovations heard for the first time, you wonder why this has not been done before’. Indeed, the LP’s blend of percussion instruments like zabumba, cavaquinho, and cuica with an absolutely stellar cast of vocalists including Tenastelin, Christine Miller, and Ras B, with a pre-Reggae Reggae Sauce fame Levi Roots recording from his living room, became timeless the moment it was released. Barker praised the album for being ‘more orthodox than expected’, by which I think he meant that the album is a completely authentic roots record, rather than an attempt to mix musical flavours to conceal a lack of ideas. Instead, ideas flew back and forth across the Atlantic, as basic tracks were laid in the Dubkasm Studio (then in Brazil, now in England) and overdubs and vocals were recorded in London, Nottingham, Bristol and Norway, with the final mixes being done at the Daddy Roots studio in Bristol. The combination is seamless both because Digistep grew up with Brazilian music, courtesy of his father, and because Dubkasm have lived and breathed reggae since their formation in 1994 – just go and listen to early releases like ‘Chemical Reaction Dub’ (1996) or ‘Hornsman Trod’ (2003) and you’ll hear heavyweight productions with a Rasta ethos immersed in U.K. soundsystem culture.

Since the album’s release, Dubkasm have gone from strength to strength and collaborated with a dazzling array of artists. Transform-I was remixed by some of Bristol’s best electronica producers in 2010, and 2013’s 12” ‘Victory’ became a huge soundsystem hit around the world, before being voiced by two of the greatest singers of all time, Luciano and Turbulence, and being remixed the following year by one of the world’s finest dubstep producers, Mala (who in 2016 released his own project fusing Latin music with electronic bass – the excellent Mala in Cuba).
The first project of its kind, beautifully reissued in its original format by Dubquake (the outfit behind France’s incredible OBF Soundsystem), Transform-I is the LP that launched Dubkasm on their current trajectory and has truly lived up to its name.

Erstes Soloalbum des Queenryche Sängers Todd La Torre. Die durch die Pandemie verschobene Queenryche Tour bot Todd La Torre die Gelegenheit,das lang geplante Soloalbum zu verwirklichen. Todd tat sich mit seinem langjährigen Freund Craig Blackwell zusammen. Wie bei Queensrÿche's The Verdict spielte La Torre Schlagzeug und übernahm die Vocals, Blackwell spielte Gitarre, Bass und Keyboards. La Torre und Blackwell produzierten das Album selbst, zogen jedoch Queensrÿche- Produzent Zeuss hinzu. Gastauftritte von Jordan Ziff (Age Of Evil, Metalhead, Ratt) und Al Nunn. Insgesamt zeigt sich der Solo-Output vielseitig, ohne die progressive Basis von Queensryche zu vernachlässigen. Die Grundlagen sind allerdings mehr im klassischen Metal verortet und werden mit verschiedenen Einflüssen kombiniert. . Der Opener "Dogmata" oder "Vanguards Of The Dawn Wall" kommen mit mächtig Speed um die Ecke und mixen Heavy mit Speed und Thrash. "Pretender" erhält einen leichten epischen Touch und La Torre bewegt sich stimmlich in überraschende Höhen. Metallisch klassisch wird es mit "Hellbound And Down", dem starken "Vexed" und "Rejoice In The Suffering". Der progressive Part kommt bei "Darkened Majesty", "Apology" oder "Critical Cynic" zum Tragen. Die Balladenfreunde hören in "Crossroad To Insanity" rein.Zum Schluss gibt es mächtig dunkle Töne zu entdecken - "One By One . Craig Blackwells Gitarrenspiel setzt den Gesang von La Torre musikalisch perfekt in Szene. Todd findet sogar Vocals, die noch nie zuvor von ihm gehört wurden, wie auf dem Titeltrack und dem bestechenden "Vanguards of the Dawn Wall" zu hören ist. 2021 nur in den USA veröffentlicht, macht ROAR dieses Juwel nun endlich auch in Europa erhältlich, zusätzlich in 2 luxuriösen Vinyl Versionen. "Rejoice The Sufffering"ist ein herausragendes Opus von einem spät berufenen Sänger, der völlig losgelöst beweist, wie man eine wuchtig-moderne und vitale Metal Scheibe schreibt, arrangiert und produziert Für alle Queensryche Fans und Liebhaber des klassischen Metal.

If you find the time, please come and stay a while in abracadabra’s beautiful neighbourhood; a magically wonky wonderland where strangers leave as friends to a block party soundtrack as eclectic as it is infectious. The California duo’s album shapes & colors is a dazzling collage of psych-fuelled synthscapes and contemporary Baroque-pop of anti-capitalist movements and escapism, precisely pieced around their own working lives in a blue-collar town.
In the heart of Oakland’s industrial Jingletown above a former auto-repair shop in what was once a mechanics’ break room where poker rounds ensued, Hannah Skelton (Vocals, Synthesizers) and Chris Niles, (Bass, Synthesizers) constructed the angular 80s-tinged anthems (think John Hughes montages to Talking Heads) of their new album, to positively offset the pandemic’s amplification of dysfunctional society. “It reflects our current reality: a huge mess that is systematically broken but isn’t entirely lost,” Hannah tells. “We’re inviting listeners to conjure up every drop of hope and willpower left inside them, pour that into the giant vat of anger and frustration bubbling inside us all, and with this potion collectively enact the necessary change to bring love and light into this dark space.”
When Covid forced Hannah from her salon in San Francisco to become a backyard mobile hairdresser, what she saw inspired them both and the lyrical foundations for their new record. “I’d drive to mansions and people would complain about how hard the pandemic had been next to their swimming pool and tennis courts.” First meeting after the album’s co-producer Jason Kick (Mild High Club, Sonny and the Sunsets) recruited the pair for a Halloween band covering Eurythmics’ art-rock debut ‘In The Garden,’ the pair hit it off and shapes & colors is a product of the years that followed. It combines Chris’ own rhythmic demos following years on the road touring and opening for Amon Tobin, Matthew Dear and Generationals in Maus Haus with Hannah’s lyrical musings honed from project Cassiopeia, so even when topics are as heavy as the beats, they’re met with luminously positive arrangements of hope and warmth.
The by-product of a psychedelic New Year’s Eve escaping a monotonous 2020 reality, the title track itself captures fireworks over East Oakland as viewed from the pair’s couch whilst listening to Mort Garson’s Plantasia for 6 hours straight. The daydream collage of ‘inyo county’ is “a little souvenir taking me back into the bottled-up essence of a slow lazy morning, waking up in bed far from home,” Hannah tells recalling those enforced stay-at-home days. “It fell out of me because I was craving that blissful flavour.” Meanwhile ‘dawn of the age of aquarius’s new parallel reality evolved from a happy accident when their demos had reset to a drone which Jason reworked into a Laurie Anderson-esque breathy vocoder effect. Even bloops and beeps from a forgotten recording session at the Vintage Synthesizer Museum in Emeryville can be heard, where the pair used Mini Moog, Fairlight EMI and ARP 2600 to arrange their sound into shapes whilst distortion and dirt from mixing on 1979 Neve 5313 Console added to the recordings’ color.
Casting a brighter rainbow still, in all its pastel-hued glory, Hannah, also illustrated a self-portrait of the band for the album artwork. “It reflects our makeshift recording studio to encapsulate all aspects of that time and space,” she shares of their abode where, over an intense two-week period and fuelled by the aroma of fermenting vino from the winery below, their single chord, bass and drum-heavy, groove-first momentum took them on an unexpected journey whilst the next-door couple would fire pizzas in their yard and a grandfather across the road would sweep the street clean. “We’d drink coffee and start the day, consistently working, without interruption,” Chris tells of finding their flow. “The loft is a cool space with skylights, tall ceilings and no shared walls so we could be as loud as we wanted to be.”
Just as well. Diving into decades of electronica and crunchy sound effects, field recordings and animal sounds, blended with an infectious Latin influence, shapes & colors is bolstered by live percussionists Greg Poneris (drums), K. Dylan Edrich (Vocals, Percussion: congas, bongos, chimes, cow bells and wood blocks, tone drum and tri-tone whistle) and Tom Smith (Guitar, Synthesizers, Vocals).
NIMBY crews grab those earplugs now. abracadabra is your new noisy neighbour, and there’s no turning this party down.

Drawing the night in around his private, unnerving vigil, Ellis Swan returns to Quindi Records with an album of cracked beauty and haunted balladry. The Chicago-based singer-songwriter debuted on the label last year with a collaborative project called Dead Bandit, a vividly produced instrumental set in thrall to the badlands and a laconic, languid Americana.

Under his own name, Swan records intimate, poetic songs in a stark fashion, so fragile they might disintegrate in between your fingers were you to pick them up. He draws the microphone close to pick up every whisper and drags the music through layer upon layer of tape fuzz, leaving room for atmospheric impressions which loom out of the walls like the ghosts of past misdeeds. These pieces play on the natural distortion and delirium which occurs at the farthest end of the night - the hour before dawn might hope to break the veil of darkness.

Swan's is a hauntological sound, but like the late Israeli rockabilly icon Charlie Megira his process strikes a spooked tone past revivalism and out of time or place. The only anchor which places Swan anywhere is the subtle presence of Katherine Swan providing lyrics to '3am' and lyrics and backing vocals to 'It Could Be Worse'.

The impression cast is of one man and his guitar, but there are other textures tucked into the music - the muffled murmur of a drum machine or a low frequency organ hum, some desolate piano, other treated percussive impulses which might well have been the work of incidental sprites while the four-track was rolling.

There are fuller cuts like 'Evening Sun' and the title track '3am' which play with structural dynamics and creep out of the shadows a touch, while passages of plaintive, instrumental unease such as the hypnotic, mantra-like 'Chinatown' protract the space between songs. 'Swing' lolls between moments of bottomless silence and a discernible, rickety funk, and 'Puppeteers Tears' teases out a buried drama. But primarily, it's the light touch of 'Horses Bones' and tin can tenderness of 'She's My Sweet Summer Storm' which spell out the spellbinding character of 3am; a singular creation fusing the best qualities of folk, blues and Americana with a fearlessly experimental sound palette.

Concocted in a share house in the South of Brisbane in the mid-80s, a small collective of well-acquainted musicians including Jon Anderson, Rainer Guth, Gary McFeat & Rod Owen gathered to compose film soundtracks, music for pictures, therefore ‘Picture Music’. To this end, a ‘spec’ tape of Picture Music recordings would be produced to give to potential clients and or sold to local stores. A distinct album comprising a collection of ambient, minimal-jazz and experimental music.

If there is a red thread running through the Picture Music album, it is its "late night" ambience. The wrath of the sub-tropical summer heat of Brisbane is not kind on electronic equipment, which would crash regularly by day. So, all recording was done in the relative cool of the late evening, in a room only dimly lit by lamp and candle. The Picture Music collective would make music and party all through the night, departing around sunrise. They would sleep through the heat of the day, only to return in the evening for more of the same.

This 2021 reissue of their self-titled 1987 cassette, was taken from the original master tapes and remains an evocative representation of the music that resulted from the late-night, dimly-lit, atmospheric-enabled environment, that sparked the creativity of a group of like-minded friends in a tiny corner of Brisbane. Dedicated to the memory Rainer Guth.

‘Emotional Eternal’, out on Domino, is a glorious consolidation
of the lessons learned along the way, seen through the eyes of
someone who has taken a step back, and who can see clearly
as a result.

 As with her previous acclaimed 2018 album ‘Bon Voyage’, this
album was initially recorded in the outskirts of Stockholm, with
Reine Fiske, the multi-instrumentalist member of Swedish rockband Dungen, who has worked with the likes of Travis Scott and
Anna Järvinen, and Fredrik Swahn, the musician, producer and
engineer best known for his work with Swedish indie-rock band
The Amazing.

 A deeply human collection of songs full of prolonged moments
of sonic transcendency, ‘Emotional Eternal’ is a record rooted in
adulthood, but one that still regards the world with a childlike
wonder. It includes ‘Alma_The Voyage’, a beautiful paean to
motherhood concluding with resounding violins and EBow;
‘Personal Message’ featuring a giddily assured vocal
performance from Melody, vertiginous and breathy and the
ornate and catchy, ‘Where The Water Clears the Illusion’.

 Listening to the album feels like coming across an abundant
treasure chest; strap in and get ready to be transported to
another heavenly, mediative and groove-filled world.

 CD in printed inner wallet with 18-page poster booklet.

 LP with 2-page insert plus 12” circular ‘optical effect’ card platter
disc with digital download code.

 Press - Reviews in Uncut, MOJO, Loud and Quiet, Record Collector,
Reader’s Digest, Shindig, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, NARC,
Aesthetica, Spin, All Music. Features in Clash, Shindig Magazine,
Pitchfork, The Eagle, The Line of Best Fit, Far Out Magazine.

 Radio - 6 Music Lauren Laverne, Craig Charles, Amy Lame, Radcliffe
& Maconie, BBC Radio 1 Jack Saunders, Radio X John Kennedy.

Grammy-nominated band TRIVIUM — Matt Heafy vocals, guitar, Corey Beaulieu [guitar], Paolo Gregoletto [bass], and Alex Bent [drums] — has announced that it will release its latest tenth album, In The Court of The Dragon, on vinyl on 28th January via longtime label Roadrunner Records. The album will be available on 2LP Transparent Yellow Vinyl. The record was produced and mixed by Josh Wilbur and recorded in the Fall of 2020 at Full Sail University in Orlando.

The album cover is an original oil painting by French artist Mathieu Nozieres (@mathieunozieres on Instagram)

"While the music of In The Court Of The Dragon was taking shape, we knew we needed epic artwork of the type that you might see on the wall of an important museum from a long dead renaissance master," says Heafy. "After extensive research, we found one of the few living artists who is capable of creating artwork like Caravaggio and Gentileschi — painter Mathieu Nozieres. Mathieu took our song title and created an original oil painting on canvas unlike anything we could have ever imagined. It's so staggeringly breathtaking and epic and it looks like what the song and album sounds like."

H- side is etched
The American cable-television industry exploded in the 1980s, pushing broadcasts of diverse programming and emissions of low-laying cultures into homes. Community stations piggybacked on the digital developments of the time, extending their existence through telephony and broadcast a iliates. For those growing up in this time, in locations such as New York City, the localized communications beamed into their homes exposed them to an impressionable array of disparate sounds and visions.
Move into the 1990s and New York was filled to the brim of emergent cultures drawing from this ebullition of communication. From Rammellzee’s shapeshifting to the late Judy Russell and Frank and Karen Mendez’s Nu Groove imprint fusing reggae, poetry and house, nascent ideas emanated from the city walls, from within stores such as Sonic Groove store and on VHS releases such as Stakker’s The Evil Acid Baron Show, a legendary technicolor psychedelic trip along the wildest frontiers of acid house. As scenes expanded and identities developed, such individuals weather the events of the visceral now, expressing themselves right into an unpredictable future.
Function’s long career has seen him uncover a vast range of sonic identities, a mainstay through house, techno and industrial with collaborations with the likes of Regis, Damon Wild alongside his highly influential Infrastructure imprint. With influences deeply tied to pop art, rave and gay scenes, and early memories of block-parties emitting Kraftwerk and Strafe, he found himself seeking out the undercover illegal nights of the 90s on a quest of sexual unearthing, mixing the ever-yearning escapology mission of disco with the influential DJ sets of Jeff Mills.
For his new album Existenz, he marks a clear step away from the corporeal techno of his recent releases. Pivoting around themes of religion, sexuality, trauma and healing, it is a work expansive and celebratory, a clear liberation from a deeply internalized past. Formed from a collection of recordings made in a period from late 2016 to mid 2019, Existenz takes the form of a creative outburst in reaction to a number of traumas - recent, childhood and throughout Function’s life. Life partner Stefanie Parnow assisted the production process in its entirety, providing inspiration, spiritual healing and featuring vocal contributions.
Cosmic synths soar and swoop in ‘Pleasure Discipline’ through towering stacks of rhythm that stutter and creak to a halt before rebooting, a firm robotic response to human intervention. ‘Zahlensender’ reflects a spatial tetris of urban life, as digitalization set within an XYZ matrix confronts the sprawling city. Constant arpeggiated meditations echo synaptic transmissions, e ecting a dissolution of boundaries. ’The Approach’ recalls the unification of the self, a state of delirium non-subjective and smooth, as all connections and functions give way to simple intensities of feeling, crossing the threshold into spirituality. ’Golden Dawn’, featuring Stefanie Parnow, marks a further elevation of dubbed-out euphoria, as once more positive rays emerge. His ode to the effortless short-trip urban navigation 'Kurzstrecke' finds Function in motion, upfront and bold, snapshots of conversation and flickers of light. 'Ertrinken' finds metallic bass jabs swamping snipped synthetic voices, with hidden stores of emotion set as a nod to the history of vocoders as a tool for encrypted military communication. House icon Robert Owens features on 'Growth Cycle' and 'Be', entrenching a celebratory atmosphere over Function's clubwise leanings. Closing track 'Downtown 161' reflects the unmistakeable filtered and squashed interjections of television, and sampled dance vocals - a sound for the curious, dreamers and dancers.
With Existenz, Function reveals an essential body of work, spread over 4LP - thought experiments on the role of identity and spirituality after a lifetime of upheaval and trauma. Leading up until the release date, Function will undertake an album promo tour with select dates - A/V shows at Berlin Atonal and Rural festival in Japan, and three dates as part of his Bassiani residency.

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”