Search:day dream

New York’s very own JW Francis announces his brand new album ‘Dream House’ – his third with London based label Sunday Best Recordings. Coinciding with the announcement is the gloriously up-beat new single ‘Casino,’ which offers a glimpse into what to expect on his forthcoming feel-good LP. When JW isn’t writing songs about his own life or surreal imagery, he writes about other people – most notably around the month of February when he writes valentines songs on his fans’ behalf. ‘Dream House’ encapsulates all of this and forms a collection of glorious tracks written for other people: “Every year, about 6 weeks before Valentine’s Day, I make the following post on social media: “If you send me the name of your Valentine, and the reason you love them, I’ll write a song for them on your behalf.” That is how Dream House was born, 3 years ago. Over the past three years, I have received over 300 requests from fans to write songs for their loved ones. All of the songs on Dream House come from this project, some of them have been reworked to speak more to the artist’s life, others have remained exactly as they were first written. Ultimately, this is an album about caring for others, and the way we express it.” Written and recorded at the start of 2021 in NYC, ‘Dream House’ is slightly reminiscent of The Strokes and even has hints of Lou Reed, however the project is still quintessential JW Francis with its blissful melodies and dreamy instrumentation; perfectly fitting given the album’s title. Along with the announcement comes ‘Casino’, a track about pursuing your dreams, as JW explains, “This song is about taking a gamble on myself as a musician, quitting my job, and living the life I want to be living. The video explores the two lives I was living before I got the opportunity to follow my dreams and doing music full time.” ‘Dream House’ follows the hugely well received ‘WANDERKID’ and ‘We Share a Similar Joy’ and once again proves why JW is the king of laid-back and effortlessly cool song-making.

New York’s very own JW Francis announces his brand new album ‘Dream House’ – his third with London based label Sunday Best Recordings. Coinciding with the announcement is the gloriously up-beat new single ‘Casino,’ which offers a glimpse into what to expect on his forthcoming feel-good LP. When JW isn’t writing songs about his own life or surreal imagery, he writes about other people – most notably around the month of February when he writes valentines songs on his fans’ behalf. ‘Dream House’ encapsulates all of this and forms a collection of glorious tracks written for other people: “Every year, about 6 weeks before Valentine’s Day, I make the following post on social media: “If you send me the name of your Valentine, and the reason you love them, I’ll write a song for them on your behalf.” That is how Dream House was born, 3 years ago. Over the past three years, I have received over 300 requests from fans to write songs for their loved ones. All of the songs on Dream House come from this project, some of them have been reworked to speak more to the artist’s life, others have remained exactly as they were first written. Ultimately, this is an album about caring for others, and the way we express it.” Written and recorded at the start of 2021 in NYC, ‘Dream House’ is slightly reminiscent of The Strokes and even has hints of Lou Reed, however the project is still quintessential JW Francis with its blissful melodies and dreamy instrumentation; perfectly fitting given the album’s title. Along with the announcement comes ‘Casino’, a track about pursuing your dreams, as JW explains, “This song is about taking a gamble on myself as a musician, quitting my job, and living the life I want to be living. The video explores the two lives I was living before I got the opportunity to follow my dreams and doing music full time.” ‘Dream House’ follows the hugely well received ‘WANDERKID’ and ‘We Share a Similar Joy’ and once again proves why JW is the king of laid-back and effortlessly cool song-making.

With One Day, Fucked Up have delivered one of the most energizing and intricate albums of their career, a massive-sounding record that arrives in deceptively small confines. The Canadian hardcore legends have been known for their epic scale in the past, so it might be a surprise that Fucked Up’s sixth studio album is their shortest to date, written and recorded in the confines of one literal day (hence the title). Don’t mistake size for substance, though: The band’s sound has only gotten bigger, more hard-charging, with even denser thickets of melody. “I wanted to see what I could record in literally one day.” That singular idea came to mind for guitarist Mike Haliechuk in the closing months of 2019. Haliechuk got himself into a studio and proceeded to write and record the record’s ten tracks over three eight-hour sessions, reconnecting with the core the band’s songwriting essence in the process. Initially, Fucked Up vocalist Damian Abraham was also set to complete his vocals in similar fashion—that is, before the lockdowns of 2020 took place. As it turns out, the isolation yielded creative dividends, as Abraham returned to contributing lyrics as well for the first time since 2014’s Glass Boys. “It almost felt like it might be the last time I’d ever get to record vocals for anything,” Abraham says of the stakes he felt while putting his part to tape, before reflecting on how he approached the lyrical process: “What do I want to say to friends who aren’t here anymore? What do I want to say to myself?” Over swarms of tuneful noise that evoke Sonic Youth circa Daydream Nation, Abraham lets loose on gentrification in “Lords of Kensington,” which was inspired by an “incredible” Toronto neighborhood that was regularly subject to life-ruining police surveillance and structural violence. “The police chief during that era he just opened a cannabis store,” Abraham explains. “It’s so cynical and gross, what society has come to but by being in a band, we’re culpable in changing the neighborhood, too, since the punk spaces and cool happenings that pop up are part of gentrification. Are you building a culture? Or are you ruining something that’s already been there?” Then there’s the dusky burn of “Cicada,” a sonic cousin to Dose Your Dreams’ excellent standout “The One I Want Will Come for Me” that features Haliechuk taking lead-vocal duty. The song is dedicated to lost friends, and in his words, it’s about “what life is like after you lose people, and our responsibility to carry them forward into the future, using the things they taught us as a light. I like to imagine the sound of cicadas as a metaphor for our strange life in the subculture we all just live these weird little hidden lives under the dirt, and then once in a generation, one of us gets to bust out of the dirt and intone their song so loud that it can be heard all over.” One Day is an undeniable work of confidence from a band that continues to operate at the top of their game, making music that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime and beyond.

"One Day" ist eines der energiegeladensten und komplexesten Alben der kanadischen Hardcore-Legende Fucked Up, obwohl es nur 10 Songs enthält. Fucked Up waren in der Vergangenheit eher für ihre epischen Auswüchse bekannt, von gewaltigen Konzept-Alben bis hin zu 12-stündigen Konzerten - es mag also überraschen, dass ihr sechstes Studio-Album ihr bisher kürzestes ist, geschrieben und aufgenommen innerhalb eines einzigen Tages - was dem Album auch den Titel gab. Man sollte nun aber nicht Spiellänge mit Substanz verwechseln: Der Sound der Band ist nur noch größer geworden, noch härter, mit noch dichterem Melodie-Dickicht. Das Album klingt vollmundig und unmittelbar, mit Musik, die brutal und leidenschaftlich rüberkommt, so wie sie nur Fucked Up machen können. Die Gitarren klingen gigantisch und die musikalische Abenteuerlust, die das epische, üppige "Dose Your Dreams" von 2018 kennzeichnete, ist auch hier sehr präsent. "One Day" ist ein unbestreitbares Werk der Zuversicht von einer Band, die weiterhin auf höchstem Niveau agiert und Musik macht, die garantiert ein Leben lang, und darüber hinaus, hält.

Clear Vinyl

"One Day" ist eines der energiegeladensten und komplexesten Alben der kanadischen Hardcore-Legende Fucked Up, obwohl es nur 10 Songs enthält. Fucked Up waren in der Vergangenheit eher für ihre epischen Auswüchse bekannt, von gewaltigen Konzept-Alben bis hin zu 12-stündigen Konzerten - es mag also überraschen, dass ihr sechstes Studio-Album ihr bisher kürzestes ist, geschrieben und aufgenommen innerhalb eines einzigen Tages - was dem Album auch den Titel gab. Man sollte nun aber nicht Spiellänge mit Substanz verwechseln: Der Sound der Band ist nur noch größer geworden, noch härter, mit noch dichterem Melodie-Dickicht. Das Album klingt vollmundig und unmittelbar, mit Musik, die brutal und leidenschaftlich rüberkommt, so wie sie nur Fucked Up machen können. Die Gitarren klingen gigantisch und die musikalische Abenteuerlust, die das epische, üppige "Dose Your Dreams" von 2018 kennzeichnete, ist auch hier sehr präsent. "One Day" ist ein unbestreitbares Werk der Zuversicht von einer Band, die weiterhin auf höchstem Niveau agiert und Musik macht, die garantiert ein Leben lang, und darüber hinaus, hält.

1000 black vinyl LPs. London-based ‘indie-supergroup’ SUEP announce their long-awaited debut mini-album Shop, a collection of 6 oddball, car-boot-sale pop songs with a sprinkling of theatrical storytelling. Led by Georgie Stott (of Porridge Radio, Garden Centre) and Josh Harvey, SUEP was born out of a near-decade of playing in sheds and barns with like minded personnel, holding a mutual love for Paul McCartney, Jona Lewie, the B-52s, Devo and other performative freaks enjoying themselves. Following a move to London from Brighton, the pair added George Nicholls (The GN Band, Joanna Gruesome, The Tubs), Will William Deacon (PC World, Garden Centre), and Ollie Chapman (Boil King) to the line-up. The 5 piece take turns writing songs and taking the lead vocal duties in a wonderfully playful but coherent collaboration, with their debut being a kaleidoscopic off kilter pop ride, taking the listener through haunted castles, deprived encounters, days lost to the imagination in bed, and through the integral friendships that give SUEP the energy to keep dancing to their own beat. The album was arranged and recorded in the Red Lion Boys Club, an ex-youth centre in which Georgie and Josh both lived. Using equipment collected by Josh in his travels as a bootsale and market trader, the sports hall was transformed into a makeshift studio for a few days, with sessions conducted by producer Matthew Green (Sniffany & The Nits, The Tubs, etc.) Mark Riley (BBC 6 Music) described SUEP’s debut single and album opener, ‘Domesticated Dream’ (2021) as “perfect pop music.” The joyfully kitsch track brims with a 70s Yamaha disco beat, deep bass, nostalgic drum machines, and hooky melodies. Possibly the most psychedelic and infectious track born out of lockdown, it tackles homelife, drinking too much, and making big plans that never come to fruition, but with a big technicoloured positivity for the future of the human-race, with the chorus’ refrain, “the psychedelic 4000s,” predicting the return of the psychedelic Age of Aquarius in a couple of millennia time. The following single ‘Misery’ (2021) is pure cosmic swing-pop wizardry in part inspired by spy music and The Supremes. Ollie, The track’s baritone vocalist, describes it as “A love song disguised as a song about loss. It's about cherishing the things that matter but it’s also about having the courage to say goodbye,” with each line of the song a small story about a different character. Whilst latest Shop taster ‘In Good Health’ is darkly euphoric like a pleasantly strange meeting of Siouxsie Sioux and Jona Lewie. It’s a playfully discombobulating mix of 80s jangly guitar, chirpy keyboard and moody post-punk tackling mental health, drug addiction, and the power of friendship, written after the song’s vocalist Georgie came out of hospital following a mental health crisis. “I wanted to write a song that encapsulated how important my relationships with my friends and boyfriend were at that time” she explains “…and one that also felt dark like I did at the time. I couldn’t go outside due to anxiety surrounding my health so I stayed inside for weeks. People would visit and watch films with me or let me tattoo them or make music with me. My community helped me recover.” Elsewhere on Shop is ‘Just The Job’ fronted by Harvey and described by him as “About the relief of accepting a menial existence, and allowing life to be boring - but (within that) how the small things are the important ones, how pulling a sicky or extra long lunch break are important things to do for yourself. It’s an anthem for working people who’ve had enough - and a crowd favourite at SUEP gigs. The darker undertones and post-punk angles of the Georgie-fronted ‘Onions’ is inspired by the crapness of cliques, with the band calling the song “A cry of welcome to all;” and finally the hooky ‘Friend of Mine,’ described as “A love letter to all the people that come and go throughout your life no matter how long you know them”. SUEP have received coverage in Independent & Clash, (among many others), with big support from Mark Riley and Steve Lamacq (BBC 6 Music) for early singles.

The last album of Dead Cat In a Bag on vinyl! 180g + downloadcode.

"Do you know it? Ennio Morricone, Nick Cave, Mark Lanegan, Tom Waits and Zach Condon walk into the bar, and there are all the seats occupied by the Dead Cat In A Bag musicians. Really." - this is how Jarek Szubrycht started the review of the last album of the Italian group Dead Cat In Bag in Gazeta Wyborcza. And he was right. Really.
Yes! Dead Cat In A Bag is back! They are back with a new album "We've Been Through".

After exploring several so called Neo-Folk regions, flirting with Folk Noir, mostly with Traditional Folk in a modern perspective, for example Americana to Tex-Mex and Balkan Music to Alternative Country, on this third record the ensemble drifts to a cinematic landscape, focusing on the theme of overcoming.

We've Been Through puts together World Music elements incorporating an almost soundtrack experience for a journey into both Day and Night, Hope and Disillusionment and telling stories of broken romances and shipwrecks.

Utilizing banjo and theatrical vocal delivery, together with with classic and odd instruments, the band remap the original charts but still set sail the desired destinations. And if, about the previous records, critics were prone to recall the prowess of Waits, Cave, Lanegan, Cash and Tindersticks, this time it will be harder to name the grandfathers.
Now there is a Morricone (or was it Badalamenti?) guiding spirit and a dreamlike universe full of memories, from the dry electric blues of a stream of consciousness duet in Duet For Nothing to the unexpected crooning vocals provided by Liam McKahey (CousetauX) in Lost Friends (a banjo droven dirge dealing with electronics and a bassoon, with steal percussions and a music saw for a frame), from the rendition of the traditional Wayfaring Stranger, balancing between electric guitars and Bluegrass, to the intimate cover of Leonard Cohen's Hunter's Lullaby, from the rock-(swamp)blues of The Cat Is Dead (enriched by Italian bass hero Gianni Maroccolo, from Litfiba and C.S.I.) to the soft meloncholy of the string quartet in Between Day And Night, from the dark cabaret of Fiddler, The Ship Is Sinking to the soft porch song, between Willard Grant Conspiracy and Kris Kristofferson, of the final title track.
You can hear a shrawn and a blues harp, whispers and choirs, love and dudgeon as the record goes. This is the sound of an orchestra playing on a sinking ship: what else could a fiddler do? And what can we do, in the end?

Meg Baird’s songs are rarely made up of tidy stories. In fact, for Meg, mystery itself is often the
medium. With ‘Furling’, Meg’s fourth album under her own name, she explores the breadth of
her musical fascinations and the environments around them - the edges of memory,
daydreams spanning years, loose ends, loss, divergent paths, and secret conversations under
stars. ‘Furling’ moves through these varied spaces with the slippery, misty cohesiveness of a
dream - guided by an ageless, stirring voice that remains singular and unmistakable.
Since co-founding the beguiling and beautiful Espers in the mid-aughts amid Philadelphia’s
fertile underground music community, Meg’s solo recordings have constituted just a fraction of
her work.
Her first solo LP, the disarmingly out-of-time ‘Dear Companion’ (2007), saw her carve a quiet,
sunlit space away from the flickering swirl of Espers. Since her last solo releases, ‘Seasons on
Earth’ (2011) and ‘Don’t Weigh Down the Light’ (2015), Meg has lent thunderous drumming,
lead vocal, and poetry to Heron Oblivion (Sub Pop) on an album that garnered praise from the
New York Times and made Mojo’s Top Ten Albums Of 2016 list. She collaborated with harpist
Mary Lattimore on the mesmerizingly hazy ‘Ghost Forests’ (2018). She’s played drums with
Philadelphia scuzz-punks Watery Love (In The Red, Richie Records) and explored her deep
familial folk roots in the Baird Sisters (Grapefruit Records). She also contributed her vocal
arrangements to albums from Sharon Van Etten, Kurt Vile, Will Oldham and Steve Gunn, and
toured with Angel Olson, Dinosaur Jr., Bill Callahan, Thurston Moore and Bert Jansch, among
others.
Yet ‘Furling’ is the album that most irreverently explores the span of her work and musical
touchstones. It showcases her natural tether to 1960s English folk traditions. But it also reveals
her deep love for soul balladry, the solitary musings of Flying Saucer Attack and Neil Young
shackled to his piano deep in the foggy pre-dawn, dubby Bristol atmospherics, the melancholy
memory collage of DJ Shadow’s ‘Endtroducing’, and the delicious, Saturday night promise of
St. Etienne.
‘Furling’ was primarily recorded at Louder Studios by Tim Green (Bikini Kill, Nation of Ulysses,
Melvins, Wooden Shjips). Additional piano and vocal recording were captured at Panoramic
Studios in Stinson Beach, CA with Jason Quever (Papercuts). It was mastered in Brooklyn by
Heba Kadry, who mixed Bjork’s ‘Utopia’ and mastered albums for Slowdive, Cass McCombs
and Beach House.
For all its adornments, ‘Furling’ remains deeply intimate. The entire album was performed by
Meg and her long-time collaborator, partner, and Heron Oblivion bandmate Charlie Saufley.
While her prior solo work hinted at more expansive horizons, ‘Furling’ explores the idea of Meg
Baird as a band much more freely. Venturing beyond the musical confines of fingerstyle guitar,
she plays drums, mellotron, organs, synths, and vibraphone over her piano and guitar
foundations. Her distinctive, simultaneously elegiac and uplifting vocals, meanwhile, connect
surreal dream montages, graft sunshine sonics to swooning mediations on romantic solidarity
in trying times, and weave odes to the simple gestures of friendship - and the loss of family and
friends.
This rich sound world makes the songs a varied bunch: ‘Twelve Saints’ mates Pacific sunset
ambience and Pink Floyd pastoral to a meditation on mortality and escape. The infectious and
kinetic ‘Will You Follow Me Home’ contemplates hope and longing through the looking glass of
a Jimmy Miller-era-Stones strut. And in the closing piece, ‘Wreathing Days’, language
disintegrates over tone clusters that feel somewhere between falling and flying.
‘Wreathing Days’ also reveals much about Meg’s mastery of contrast - situating the dear and
delicate adjacent to chaos. And while it’s true that some songs on ‘Furling’ grapple with
humanity’s existential unknowns in stark terms, they primarily revel in the mysteries that hide in
nature and humanity at their most ordinary. ‘Furling’ lives in the notion that whole universes of
experience, enlightenment, elation and ecstasy can bloom in these corners.

Monks Road Social are an ever-changing collective of artists (some well-known, some just starting out) all with one thing in common - a love of making music.

Following the three genre bending albums MRS has already released this time round Richard Clarke turned to WONDERFULSOUND head honcho Miles Copeland to navigate the the vibe alongside mainstay of the band, the inimitable Dr Robert of Blow Monkeys fame.

Miles first showed up on debut album Down The Willows with the dreamy 'Golden Day' featuring Isle Of White favourite Angelina.

First single 'I’ll Keep On Searchin’ featuring Dr Robert on vocals is a lilting soulful slice of summer pop combining sweet melancholy and wistful chord changes.

Dr Robert explains “The song came from a piece of music Miles presented to me. It put me in mind of “Friends” era Beach Boys or early Smokey so the song came very quickly. Lyrically its informed by a kind of yearning. A desire for change, growth and connection. The things we’ve all been missing so much that give life meaning”

Miles continues…
“The idea for this single came about from these 2 loops sampled from some charity shop record creating this infectious lazy, jazzy groove but I knew the music needed to change and become its own thing… so when the Monks Road Social posse came knocking I knew the calibre of musicians involved would be able to flip it around, and that’s how a majority of the LP was written”.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Limited Loser edition on dark green vinyl. There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time. A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means. A statement of belief and a hymnal to the magic still to behold all around us.

There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time. A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means. A statement of belief and a hymnal to the magic still to behold all around us.

Tape

There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time. A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means. A statement of belief and a hymnal to the magic still to behold all around us.

With 'Parallel Light', AndrewWasylyk offers an alternative mix album to 2020's spiritual-jazz and neo-classical masterclass in melody, 'Fugitive Light And Themes Of Consolation'. This new LP, his third with Athens Of North Records, is as much a different perspective as a companion piece.

The ten songs still circle landscapes for meaning, channelling half-heard melodies and misremembered memories; caught somewhere between settling down and setting out towards the shining levels of the estuary and beyond. Each magnifying the bold, expansive arrangements of FL&TOC with layers are lifted and peeled away.

The soft-focus glow of gently pressed piano keys, the well and wash of strings and brass remain, but the deduction of instrumentation serves to highlight the ornate and offers comfort with this new found space. In the warmth reshaped, a romanticism illuminated.

At the essence of these reframed compositions Wasylyk's blue and gold, mellifluous refrains prevail. It's a seamless, sublime flow from a restless artists and an album quietly reawakened.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Cacophony is the second Rudimentary Peni album. Released after the band returned from their first hiatus following a series of personal events that changed the band forever. The thirty track LP keeps turning heads 34 years after its release. Far from writing another “Death Church” the band embarked on a truly bizarre quest - to record an album based on the life and writings of horrors absolute king H.P. Lovecraft. A dense cacophony of total free songwriting. Dark, gothic, intricate, unexpected head-scratching punk. The short bursts of music twist and turn at every corner - the vocals are part classic Blinko and part spoken word, the guitar is full of distorted awkward tones and the very inventive bass and drums are locked together creating a truly unique album. Cacophony is the benchmark of outsider Punk and the influence and cult nature of this album grows with every passing year. This reissue stays close to the original version, with Nick Blinko’s incredible cover art, including a 11” x 11” 8-page lyric booklet.

Mysticisms keeps the Dubplate series moving, welcoming one of the seminal Dub producers of all time in Scientist. His unique studio techniques and understanding of rhythm are exalted and present on Step It Up, an enlightening example of his genius and matched with a widescreen remix by label associate DJN4, aka DJ Normal 4, teaming up with fellow Dusseldorf producer AKI AKI, to offer a dreamland breaks-steppers anthem.
The fact that Hopeton Overton Brown aka Scientist is one of the true pioneers of Dub music is undisputed. His productions, first as an apprentice at Studio One, then breaking through whilst teamed at King Tubby's studio, led to Channel One and a series of seminal Dub masterpieces throughout the 1980s, mixing engineer Henry 'Junjo' Lawes' productions with the Roots Radics, alongside vocalists Barrington Levy, Jonny Osbourne and Jah Thomas.

Step It Up precedes, taken from the period of seminal Tubby's work with Bunny Lee and in this instance, with Barry Brown classic vocals and Lee's house band, The Aggravators, backing. As often with Reggae's history, much is disputed, however, this unmistakable Scientist production showcases Brown's high pass filters in effect, the trademark riding 4/4, utilising the 4 track mixing desk to create a joyous bounce.

Working on the license from the outset, Tim Schumacher aka DJN4, waited in the wings to dive in the desk for a modern-day remix. Partnering with up-and-coming producer Aki Vierboom (Phaserboys / Candomble), the Digi-Dance MixX is bass-quaking histrionics, a steppers meets rave culture overdose that will be heard from festivals to dancehalls, a righteous dub-breaks riddim y'all.

Step the Mystery

Back in stock!

Following in the footsteps of the landmark 1966 double-quartet recording by Joe Harriott and John Mayer, Indian born musician Amancio D'Silva produced some of the most adventurous and sophisticated recordings within the canon of 'indo-jazz', a term used to define a pioneering east meets west synthesis that reflected the shifting musical and cultural landscape of post-war Britain. An experiment which reached a pinnacle in 1972 with D'Silva's seminal recording Dream Sequence by Cosmic Eye (The Roundtable TRZY001), an adventurous fusion of modal jazz and Indian classical music viewed through the psychedelic lens of swinging London. Exotic third-stream jazz conceived by a visionary composer whose virtuosic technique and deeply emotive guitar playing defined his two earlier and now legendary 1969 UK jazz albums Integration and Hum Dono with Joe Harriott, both recorded for the much celebrated Lansdowne label.

Also recorded in 1972 although not released at the time was Konkan Dance, an unofficial sequel to Dream Sequence that further explored the unchartered possibilities of an Indian music-jazz fusion. Featuring many of the same personnel, this session also included support from Don Rendell and Alan Branscombe, two giants of the UK jazz scene who add serious credentials to D'Silva's singular and intimate compositions. For reasons unknown the album was cancelled by Lansdowne at the time and never saw the light of day until being resurrected again in the 2000s. The Roundtable are pleased to once again showcase this important artist and present a new addition of this incredible and almost forgotten piece of the Amancio D'Silva story. Pressed on 180g vinyl and packaged in a custom 1960s-style flip-back sleeve.

Unreleased British Jazz from 1972.
Sequel to Cosmic Eye - Dream Sequence
Includes liner notes and rare photos.
Custom Flipback sleeve.
180g Vinyl