quête:deb never

12 years after their debut release, Klone, hailing from central France, are back with their 6th studio effort: Here Comes The Sun shows a mature rock band whose musical universe has expanded over the years. When you take a closer look at the band's discography, their progress appears like a logical evolution: each album is unique, and each one has served to make the follow-up less predictable. The band's metal roots have slowly but confidently given way to an ethereal rock sound, substantially vintage but modern in sound and delivery; driven by heavy riffing as much as by delay-soaked guitar-reverie and careful vocal melodies... and while nowadays melancholia is the defining paradigm of the band's sound, Klone exploit a much broader emotional spectrum. 2012's The Dreamer's Hideaway already showed more progressive outlines -- with Here Comes The Sun, the six musicians continue along that path and open up a new chapter in their collective musical journey. This time, the bandreally gives each melody time to unfold... and this is where the strength of this album lies: coherence, patience, continuity. The transitions between riffs and songs never feel rushed or forced -- everything is happening at the right time, and for a reason. The music, the lyrics and the artwork reflect upon one another, and suck the listener into a universe revolving around the sun, which is the central theme of the album. With Here Comes The Sun, the band's songwriting, led by the charismatic voice of Yann Ligner, has reached the next level. Klone have opened for bands like Gojira, King's X and Orphaned Land, and have played the main stage at Hellfest. Here Comes The Sun is the album that will see Klone be thrust into the limelight. It's just too good to be ignored - take a listen, and decide for yourself.

Well-versed in vintage vernaculars, Oakland-based producer/musician Mike Walti is about to return with his sophomore offering under the Organi moniker – as new album “Babylonia” follows 2020’s “Parlez-vous Français?,” a landmark in vibe acquisition ever since.

Wyldwood Studios is a portal. It’s a secret gateway to analog spheres. Cross the threshold and you’ll feel the difference: you can pick any ol’ time, any place, any tongue or vibe, in fact. Hit the dancefloor in 1967, feel that plushy loveseat in the early 70s. It’s a welcoming place where better, saner vibes are still within reach. Fueled, at least in part, by those long-classic 12”s on the walls – just imagine the sepia-tinted countenance of Melody Nelson alongside actual Birkin sans wig, right next to Shadow’s immortal crate diggers, forever blurred –, and channeled through ancient time travel devices such as the MCI 416B only to arrive on classic 2-inch tape (MM1000 aka Ol’ Bessy), it’s a haven for all things organic, for all things imbued with that warm élan. Built and run by Oakland’s own Mike Walti, countless artists from many different genres have felt that flair, creating sonic spheres and moving back and forth along the malleable axis that is space-time. Capturing magic.

Emerging from this unique portal back in 2020, Walti’s aka Organi’s first studio album was a stunning answer to its titular question – “Parlez-vous Français?” It was a soothing, somewhat psychedelic trip so magnétique and alluring that it immediately brought back those bits of Franglais you never knew you remembered. Whereas the debut LP indeed felt like a spontané voyage to the French Riviera ca. 1968, its follow-up “Babylonia” is so much more than linguistic confusion and ancient Akkadian Rhythms. Using that hidden portal near Alameda’s finest port to access all kinds of remote regions and sonic spheres, it’s super tight and feels, well, decent, even though, just like the ol’ Babylon, it’s full of surprising tongues and dreams, schemes and melodies.

“Where do we go from here?,” someone asks in opening “Organii-“ – all majestically cinematic boom bap, buoyant bass, sick strings. A fittingly massive opener that feels like cracking open a cold one after long weeks at work (that ecstatic “ahhhh”), it perfectly sets the tone for another half hour of pure time traveling, globe-spanning bliss. Whereas that certain prédilection pour all things French makes “La Rockette” so tempting and tantalizing (think MalMalNonBien), the sophomore album’s Berlin-based guest singer Nana Lacrima soon takes us elsewhere: title track “Babylonia” spins ever so softly, like a magic lantern, with images of dreamier Stones Throw funksters or Savath y Savalas looming over the steady flow of an arrangement that washes you clean like an ancient, unpolluted River Euphrates or Brazil’s actual Amazon. A sexy Portuguese-flavored anthem, occasional guest singer Alix Koliha also enters the scene to add yet another layer of French chic to this Brazilian landscape. Next, we’re back at the Riviera, but the “Italiano” version of it, splendido sunsets and bell towers in the distance, the ragazze laughing and shaking it up, perhaps even some Portofino Gin so you can really feel that “me ne batto il belin,” as your fingers align form some half-serious “ma che vuoi?”

Tim Maia-penned “Padre Cicero” (1970) deals with the stunning transformation of the titular hero – “De reverendo a lutador,” and what a soaring, sensual hook –, and Organi’s take on Elephant Memory’s “Old Man Willow” (now an “Old Man Waltz”) perfectly underlines what Walti’s Wyldwood endeavor is all about: Easy-Going Experimental Dream Pop, fueled by Gainsbourg, Broadcast, Stereolab, etc.

Later on, even though something seems to be tres complique in “Remembering Anna,” it all sounds carefree like a spontaneous Friday afternoon with a bottle of fine wine. Right before the outro, key album guest Yea-Ming Chen (of Yea-Ming & The Rumors) returns to the mic, adding her dark and dusky trademark timbre to melancholy anthem “Pictures Of Your Face”. Reminiscent of Nico and Trish (rip & rip), it’s a track that’s both dark and strangely propelling, hypnotic and hip-shaking.

A third generation Bay Area native, Mike Walti aka Organi has been running Wyldwood Studios in Oakland CA for some 15+ years (recording artists like Tommy Guerrero, Spelling, Why?, Latyrx, Del, Dan The Automator, and Big Freedia, to name but a few). A multi-instrumentalist who’s obviously in love with the 60s/70s, he loves to work with analog equipment (“We just love us some analog!” “Just listen to those relays purr…”). Recorded and mixed by Mike Walti at Wyldwood, “Babylonia” will be released on vinyl/digital by Alien Transistor.

Warehouse Find!

Detroit Swindle continue their incredible run of form with a cracking new EP for for their Freerange follow up, suitably entitled Unfinished Business. It's pretty fair to say that the Dutch duos 2012 Freerange debut helped cement their reputation as one of the most exciting young house music acts to emerge in recent years. Their relentless tour schedule and stream of quality EP's for the likes of Tsuba, Dirt Crew and their own fledgling label Heist are testament to their success. Remixes for the likes of Waze & Odyssee, Sowar and Medlar all did the damage as did their immense Boiler Room takeover session which sealed the deal for any skeptics. Turning to the fresh stuff, we see DS delivering three brand new originals plus we have a hard as nails (by our standards anyway!) remix from the enigmatic Crue.

Title track Unfinished Business sets the tone with a driving, shuffling, tech tinged beauty loaded with their trademark cut-up, MAW style vox samples.

Under The Spell drops next with a more low slung groove, rhodes stabs and breakdowns that are tried and tested for maximum dancefloor pleasure.

The B1 sees Crue step up for his hard hitting remix which brings a darker, raw edge to the EP with a bad boy basement feel and garage swing bringing some peaktime intensity.

Finally we close the EP with Woman, a track that's probably about as close as the DS boys get to a smooching torch song. Lush pads and strings bring a deeper vibe to proceedings but the female spoken word samples keep the energy high and ensure things never stray too far from the floor.

"This is the time that we, who have benefitted from the Last Poets shouldbe able to say, 'it's the Last Poets. It's them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years_"

KRS One wasn't just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered
those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation - a poem
written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets' last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who's been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.

In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin
Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album -
Understand What Black Is - that earned favourable comparison with theirseminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion andlyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting - that of reggae music. Trackslike Rain Of Terror ("America is a terrorist") and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they'd lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d'etre remained the same.

"The Last Poets' mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives," wrote their biographer Kim Green. "They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people - that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change."

Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti's best work, dropped by Prince Fatty's Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who'd gathered in East Harlem's Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X's birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group's 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He'd written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. "We were getting ready for a revolution," he told Green. "There wasn't any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as "niggers" and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power." He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. "You're a gash man," Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. "Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven," he says, "it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound_" Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 "stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind." They'd walked into Sylvia's soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn't eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun's poem hasn't lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. "Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn't changed a bit," he admits, except "today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion." Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That's where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called "the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word- music" - a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar's father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he'd joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle. Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he'd learnt in the few weeks since he'd got there. "Niggers are scared of revolution," Umar replied. "Write it down" urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar's own words, "it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else's system of values and morals." And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear - a system born from political choice and that's now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it's put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people's acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets' use of the "n word" that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There's never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand. Umar's two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets' second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom "by any means necessary," and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. "All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares," he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen's ferocious drumming. Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they'd finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty's studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti's band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen's trademark grooves exclaimed, "oh, the Father_ we are home!" Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn't yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape - one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they'd once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who's been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK's now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question. The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets' own. It's important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we're presented with here aren't the result of sampling but were played "live" by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That's where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty's peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all- encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets' album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we're now living in. John Masouri

Debut collaborative album from Troth, the Nipaluna-based duo of Amelia Besseny and Cooper Bowman, and kindred spirit and legendary Mancunian free-form guitarist Jon Collin. A lavish dreamscape conjuring the dramatic beauty of uncharted mountains and streams, it documents both the crystilisation of ideas first shared during an Australian encounter in early 2023 and years of mutual appreciation.

Troth’s sonic universe, a constellation of drifting atmospherics, bedroom pop impulse and modern classical motifs, is deeply intimate and never rushed. Recent sides Forget The Curse and Idle Easel and live performances supporting the likes of Maxine Funke and Treasury of Puppies have seen Besseny’s soaring, celestial voice take centre stage, delicately adorned with Bowman’s synthesiser flourishes and homespun instrumentation. At their heart lies Bowman’s tireless collaborative instinct: his decade-long involvement in the Australian underground and his countless musical outfits (including contemporary trio Th Blisks, with Besseny and Yuta Matsumura).

Summer 2023 saw the duo host two shows for Collin in their former home of Mulubinba, regional New South Wales. Collin is perhaps best known for his playing, deconstructing and reconfiguring of the guitar and other stringed instruments, realised in solo works on his own Early Music and Winebox Press imprints, and collaborations on a trio of albums with Demdike Stare and live sessions with Sarah Hughes and Bill Nace. His unique style of playing, sometimes delicate, at other times frictional, refutes expectations of traditional instruments and fits perfectly within both Troth’s ethos and their lush sonic mise-en-scène.

The objects of devotion perhaps symbolise the group’s devotion towards each other during their music-making process, and the fruits from which they are borne. “I think, any music I have a hand in, is a dialogue with by the people I'm making it with. It's an ongoing conversation between people and sound”, reflects Bowman. The sacredness and ominousness of remote Tasmania is just as affecting, the interplay of Besseny’s haunting vocal washes, Bowman’s sparse instrumentation and Collin’s ritualistic strum evoking the eeriness that lurks beneath the seemingly limitless Australian landscape. “When I think about it, it sounds like being together at the bottom of the Earth. Watching, listening and playing together with no-one else in sight."

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

On their debut 45 for Batov Records, Indonesia-based BABON deliver two irresistible jams, cooked from a recipe full of Indonesian flavours, Afro Latin funk, Morricone grooves, Bollywood breaks and blues, they call “Tropical Desert Music”. A must-hear for fans of Surprise Chef, Khruangbin, or Sababa 5.

Drummer Wahyudi T. Raupp and multi-instrumentalist Rayi Raditia, friends since high school in Jakarta, via university life in Melbourne, formed BABON in 2023 to address environmental issues through instrumental music, thus combining
two mutual passions.

Working in their home studio free of time restraints, Babon developed their “Tropical Desert Music’’ sound, mixing the energy and influences of Melbourne’s vibrant music scene, with traditional Indonesian forms, from the pulsating rhythms of dangdut, and gamelan, the ritualistic percussion ensemble music native to Java and Bali, to keroncong, a popular and melodic folk style; while addressing environmental concerns and societal complexities, such as the
impact of ruthless exploitation on tropical regions.

On the A-side, “Desert Rose” is a spaghetti blues dedicated to the widows marginalised and objectified by mine workers. Rayi’s electric guitar gently wails with the cinematic effect akin to a Tarantino soundtrack, over a hypnotic groove that never grows tired.

On the flip, “TNT” explores the moral dilemma faced by a miner torn between the destructive nature of his occupation and the dire financial needs of his family, leading to a downward spiral of alcohol abuse. Slowly raising tension levels,

BABON pit somber organ riffs over bass guitar fuzz and Indonesian-sounding guitar motifs, leading to a final explosion
of guitars and drums. BABON’s “Tropical Desert Music” perfectly complements Batov Records’ rich catalogue of Middle Eastern grooves and is an irresistible sound its own right with a poignant message.

After an extensive tour of the UK at the end of 2022, the band decided to head into the studio to record their first long form offering. Following a passion for storytelling, they pulled together influences from Pulp Fiction to Fleabag, from Zadie Smith to Edward Hopper. They wrote relentlessly during 2022, diligently crafting what was to become this debut album. Released independently on their own Life and Times Recordings, Exit Strategy is a 13-track labour of love, recorded at Abbey Road Studios and Love Electric, enlisting the production smarts of Bernard Butler. The album is in two halves (divided literally by the two sides of the vinyl edition) entitled Galway and London and presents a multifaceted band, pushing themselves and exploring the limits of their philosophy.

Exit Strategy centres around a protagonist who moves from Galway to London in search of meaning, certain that, as the main character in the film of his own life, the solution lies in changing his surroundings and acting as someone he’s not. Both a mirror and a portal, the album promises encounters with manipulative bosses, evil ad agencies, a broken pact to flee to Australia, run-ins with the law, cheating boyfriends, drug fuelled youths, heartache, paranoia, social media anxiety and a drunk singer dressed as Jesus. Thematically the album races between emotions, between irony and sincerity, between soul searching and tongue-in-cheek finger pointing and ends where it all started, both musically and in terms of single rollout, with the nostalgic/euphoric first single Westway.

Explaining the album’s genesis and cinematic influence, James McGregor says: “We were always sure we wanted the album to be greater than the sum of its parts, so decided to create the world of a film, entitled Exit Strategy. We envisaged the record as a series of snapshots, telling the story of a group of characters trying to navigate through life.”

Hallmarked more by a philosophy than a sound, The Clockworks weave pop sensibilities with noisy, post-punk, rock-influenced stylings. The songs seem swaggering and dark yet often have an epic, nostalgic quality. They sit poetic introspection beside witty, kitchen sink drama to create something intense but playful.

With the release of Exit Strategy, The Clockworks have created a world to be explored, to be analysed and to be deciphered, but most importantly to be felt.

/ENG "I don't appeal to the masses and they don't appeal to me." - Graham Parker, "Sharpening Axes" First time on LP worldwide / Limited edition of 1000 / Pressed on pink bubblegum vinyl / New liner notes by Graham Parker / Includes the fan favourites "Sharpening Axes," "Turn It Into Hate," "Obsessed With Aretha" and "They Got It Wrong (As Usual)" / Packaged as an LP with bonus 7" single. Originally released on CD in 1996 on the independent Razor & Tie label, Graham Parker's Acid Bubblegum finally makes its worldwide LP debut, pressed onto pink bubblegum vinyl. Following several acoustic-based albums, Acid Bubblegum found pre-punk angry young man Parker roaring back into venomous form backed by an all-star band of Jimmy Destri (Blondie), Andrew Bodnar (The Rumour) and Gary Burke (Joe Jackson). The bracing lyrical attack of Acid Bubblegum is, if anything, only more relevant today. Includes new liner notes essay by Graham Parker.

Pittsburgh’s feral punks Snarling Dogs return to bite the hand that feeds them with their debut self-titled LP Snarling Dogs.

This unhinged offering kicks out 11 revved-up, slobbering 77-esque punk tracks that will have wasted, spikey punks diving into the pit never to return. Songs like “Nothing Left” are charged and chock full of hits sounding like a demented mix of Raw Power era Stooges with the speed and aggression of The Damned or The Dead Boys. The record expands from there with songs like “Hour at a Time”- a locked in dirgy, psychedelic stroll through crime ridden city streets. From there songs like “Enemy” rip through the void with manic energy- fast, raw and visceral almost stepping into early hardcore territory.

While the record has these intense dynamic shifts, Snarling Dogs glue it all together with their cohesive live rock n roll energy.

Snarling Dogs is the perfect escape from the mundanity of life. Chug that 40 oz on your lunch break, smoke that entire pack of cigs, and take a piss on your boss’s car.

There are two dogs in you. Now it's time to set the Snarling Dog free.

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

First time on LP worldwide / New liner notes by Graham Parker / Includes the fan favourites "Blue Horizon," "I'll Never Play Jacksonville Again," and "Socks 'N' Sandals" / Packaged as an LP with bonus 7" single / Remastered for vinyl by the album's original co-producer and engineer, Dave Cook / Graham Parker has been pre-promoting this upcoming LP release from the stage/ Graham Parker's fifteenth studio album, Deepcut to Nowhere, was first released by the independent label Razor & Tie in 2001. Parker recalls, "Within weeks after the release date of Deepcut to Nowhere, I was up early driving from New York State to Boston on what seemed like the most beautiful day in the history of autumn, to rehearse with the Figgs for a festival in Oregon, slated for a few weeks later, followed by a tour to support the album. That day was September 11th, 2001." In the aftermath of the attacks, Parker comments, "The press members I spoke to could barely get past the first track on Deepcut to Nowhere, 'Dark Days,' asking me if I was some kind of 'seer,' or had a mysterious crystal ball. Followed by 'I'll Never Play Jacksonville Again,' the opening salvos of the album seemed to capture imminent trauma, but of course, I was just writing songs." As the 12-song set progresses, Parker's focus expands to include the nostalgic "Blue Horizon" ("as emotionally rich a song as I'll ever write"), a dark-humoured take on the evils of colonialism ("Syphilis and Religion"), and the indignity of wearing socks with sandals. Taken together, Deepcut to Nowhere is among Parker's finest and most varied collections of songs, several of which have gone on to become setlist staples. Deepcut to Nowhere, originally released on CD only, finally makes its worldwide LP debut.

cLOUDDEAD's debut album, compiling six 10" EPs that appeared between 2000-2001, is aurally dense and obscured. A sprawling mass of miniature beat-suites and Dadaist lyrics, this strange and beautiful 3xLP would influence a myriad of sub-genres (cloud rap, hauntology, lo-fi hip-hop, etc.) in the two decades since its initial release.

Only the three members of cLOUDDEAD – Why?, Doseone and Odd Nosdam – can speak to the group's origins, but in the context of underground hip-hop towards the end of the 20th century, their arrival makes perfect sense. Cincinnati had a vital scene; home to Scribble Jam, an annual confluence of MCs, DJs, B-boys and graffiti artists. While the trio soon relocated to the Bay Area where they co-founded the Anticon collective, their Midwestern roots – in ramshackle basements of off-campus hovels, as the "cerberus of Southern Ohio" – would remain the atomic heart of their early recordings.

As Chris Martins writes in the liner notes, "The only reason we know their names today is because of how loudly and curiously they aired their insularity. They rewrote the entire world as they knew it through their own fucked perspective, and when those mysterious 10-inches started popping up in record shops, it wasn't just a puzzle to investigate: there seemed to be a whole cosmology hidden in those grooves."

Each side of the album represents one of those elusive 10-inches, each embodying a universe unto itself. Opening salvo "Apt. A" and "And All You Can Do Is Laugh" are perhaps most emblematic of the cLOUDDEAD experience. Why? and Dose create a new language through boundless non-sequiturs, sing-song non-choruses and call-and-response hooks, while Nosdam's dexterous production shifts from crackling ambience of Flying Saucer Attack to tight Ohio Players drum breaks and oblique film samples.

Taken all together, cLOUDDEAD is an original interpretation of hip-hop in the surreal Y2K glow – a bizarre meeting point between William Basinski's Disintegration Loops and MF DOOM's Operation: Doomsday. All it took was a Dr. Sample SP-202, Tascam cassette eight-track and cheap RadioShack mic. There's truly nothing like it.

This edition has been faithfully restored by Nosdam. European exclusive version comes on clear vinyl, incl. fold-out poster and liner notes insert.

Repress! It's safe to say that hip-hop has never seen an album like Ol’ Dirty Bastard's 1995 solo debut Return to the 36 Chambers. The brief glimpses of ODB's unhinged genius provided by Wu-Tang Clan's landmark Enter the Wu-Tang album two years earlier were begging to be expanded on to a larger canvas, and, with RZA guiding production, the album promised to give Dirty the creative license to make one of the most bizarre, entertaining and original LPs in hip-hop history. With his raspy, drunken flow and dark sense of humor, Dirty fearlessly attacks from all angles, throwing himself fearlessly into punchy rhyme attacks (“Damage,” with GZA), drugged-out party jams (the monster singles “Brooklyn Zoo” and “Shimmy Shimmy Ya”) and bizarre, grimly hilarious fantasies of sex and violence (“Don't U Know” and the R&B-tinged “Sweet Sugar Pie”). Backed by RZA's appropriately gritty, dissonant beats and appearances from the Clan, Return became an instant hit, selling over 1 million copies and earning a Grammy Award nomination for Best Rap Album in 1996. The album stands as a high water mark in the Wu-Tang Clan's collective creative output and was selected as one of the Best 100 Rap Albums by The Source magazine in 1998. In honoring the legacy of one of hip-hop's most innovative releases, Get On Down is proud to present this incredible and unique special edition of Ol’ Dirty Bastard's Return to the 36 Chambers as a double LP which contains the complete original album, remastered for optimal sound quality.

DJ Plead and rRoxymore with a debut collab of rhythmelodically restless productions, infusing limber, freewheeling styles with subtly psychedelic balearic melodics.

After meeting for the first time in 2019, Hermione Frank and Jarred Beeler got together at Frank's Berlin studio, slowly sculpting fractal geometries before finally adding the finishing spit and polish at Beeler's parents’ house in Sydney. Marking some of the first original material from either in a minute, the EP knits the duo’s rhythmic fascinations in three ways.

‘Celestial’ splices a rolling 4/4 with quicksilver polyrhythms and zippy melodic motifs swept into hand-clap trills, imagining something like Olof Dreijer re-shaping Joe’s angular syncopations. ‘Read Wrong’ follows to foreground a thumb piano on a more pendulous, sub-weighted flex, inflected with DJ Plead’s signature palette of drum sounds and canny orchestral flashes at the right moments, dipping like D1’s more melodic works or that forthcoming Nídia & Valentina Magaletti pearl.

The duo save their most hard-hitting for last, sliding speedy, dembow-inspired geometries through green-tinted clouds of electronics on a UKF-compatible offbeat threaded with swooping subs and flighty flutes. The momentum never lets up, but the two producers manage to evoke a mood that's as suited to a late-nite solo thing as it is to peak time wreckage. In other words; deceptively effortless gear that hits harder the louder it gets.

After the surprising debut with ‘Monochromatic’, Milano 84 - the musical project of Fabio Di Ranno and Fabio Fraschini - returns with a new album that brings the formula into even sharper focus. Synth pop, new wave, Italo disco acquire a contemporary dimension and an international flavour.

‘Ultradisco’ brings together eleven tracks, some in English, others in Italian. They are velvet dancefloor songs, emotional and romantic, elegantly distant from the obvious. Milan 84's fellow travellers include, among others: Johnson Righeira, here in the futurist reinterpretation of a Franco Battiato classic (Summer on a solitary beach); Anita Dadà – a well-known avant-garde artist - is with Fabrizio Massara (Baustelle) in the languid and intense ‘Darling’; Andy (Bluvertigo) and Alice Silvestrini (Laison) illuminate the prismatic ‘Crystal’; Anna Soares - a revolutionary performer - and Eugene - electro songwriter - colour ‘Italopop’, a manifesto made up of décollage quotations; Fred Ventura ignites the engines of the new wave to come with ‘The right words’. And he is also artistic supervisor of this unmissable album for all lovers of the 80s, the decade that never ended.

Presented for RSD Black Friday as a double LP in a gold coloured vinyl. pressing housed in a deluxe gatefold jacket with full-color OBI strip. Also includes a four panel full color insert with lyrics. In 1999 Wu-Tang Clan’s Raekwon issued the follow up to his now legendary solo debut Only Built 4 Cuban Linx with Immobilarity. Dropping in November of 1999 the record hit the Top 10 on US album charts and was certified gold by the RIAA within a month. For the 25th anniversary of this landmark recording Get On Down presents Immobilarity as a double LP in a never to be repeated gold vinyl run housed in a gatefold jacket with lyrics included and topped off with a collectable OBI.