quête:dodge

Fraufraulein, the San Francisco duo of Billy Gomberg and Andy Guthrie, are master world builders. Their work is immersive — it wraps around you like a warm coat, guiding you deep into a trance-like state. Time moves in slow circles, folds in on itself, and unspools like caught fishing line. It’s tempting to say Guthrie and Gomberg construct a new reality with their work, but I think they’re revealing the contours of familiar territory, gluing together a complicated mirror more than constructing a quotidian diorama. Their music reflects a truth that we all share in some way. It’s the pauses between thoughts, the little observations that color a day, the beauty of how others’ lives imbricate for brief moments before pulling apart completely. Fraufraulein’s music feels beamed from inner space, the soft parts of our consciousness that glow like a flashlight beneath fingertips.

It’s also tempting to call Greater Honeyguide, the duo’s new record — and first in four years — a tool for fostering presence. Each composition can serve as a meditative space, and observing the quietly unfurling layers of sound — a footfall and a quiet breath, scraps of overlapping melodies sung like notes to self, synthesizers droning lightly in the distance — can be a very calming, grounding experience. But I also love to let these pieces guide me through the sulci of my brain like a slot canyon, emerging at some long-forgotten memory or idea. Think of it as a passively-active experience, like looking out of a train window, watching the scenery blur together. At the end of the album’s 37 minutes, I feel transformed. Not necessarily different, just in tune with something else. Something beyond. Something within.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2023 was a whirlwind year for Oracle Sisters. The trio—Julia Johansen, Chris Willatt, and Lewis Lazar—followed the release of their debut album Hydranism with a globe-spanning tour that captivated fans and critics alike. From the highways between Knoxville and Nashville to sold-out clubs in rain-soaked Seattle, and festival stages across the UK, they logged countless hours on the road. Their journey was a tapestry of exhaustion and exhilaration, falling apart, brawls and disputes, love and acceptance. By the year’s end, just two days before Christmas, they found themselves in Tokyo, reflecting on the fleeting nature of time and the fragments of inspiration gathered along the way. It was there the seeds for their next album, Divinations, began to sprout. Composing as a true trio for the first time, Oracle Sisters pieced together sketches formed during stolen moments on tour. These fragments coalesced into Divinations, an album shaped by the band’s nomadic existence. The recording sessions spanned cozy Parisian studios, a barn in northern France, and the storied Valentine Studios in Los Angeles. Their creative process embraced experimentation—swapping primary instruments, playing with toy drum machines, and crafting melodies on quirky tools like the OP-1 and a baby Casio keyboard. This spirit of discovery lent the album a sense of spontaneity and wonder. At its core, Divinations channels mysticism and timeless storytelling. The band’s songwriting draws on diverse influences, from the surrealist poetry of Baudelaire and Rimbaud to the introspective philosophies of Carl Jung. Musically, echoes of Talking Heads, Air, and Leonard Cohen resonate throughout the album and tracks like “Riverside” delve into existential questions— “How far are you going? Is it more than money can buy?” Elsewhere on the album “Marseille,” born in the city that gave the song its name, kicks off as a trance with lyrics that play between the sincere and desperate self-help affirmations, we give ourselves while trying to find a bridge between our individual lives and a universal feeling. Lead-single “Alouette” is Oracle Sisters at their most direct; propelled by a driving bassline and exuberant strings, the track summons the sound of 80’s, 90’s, and early 2000’s rock n roll as they sing about “getting out of dodge, finding a pirate ship and sailing home.” Inspired by the book Caliban and the Witch, “Blue Left Hand” is a lyrical tapestry weaving together history, philosophy, and cultural critique. The lyrics, “It’s in the harbor of every page / It’s in the corner of the playwright’s stage / And every player and every fake / And every witch that we burned at the stake,” reflect on the forces that shaped the capitalist society we know today. Across Divinations’ 11 tracks it’s not only geographic boundaries that were crossed but also the boundaries of time and circumstance. While their work may not consciously reflect specific worldly events, they seek to embrace the universal and offer a space for healing. “Good music would make sense to a farmer in 17th century France as it would to a pastry chef in Slovenia in the 21st century,” shares Lazar. “It’s not written for any temporal powers that be. It’s about expressing our common humanity and taking it from there.” This intuitive approach fuels Oracle Sisters creative process - whether composing in a frozen French farmhouse or performing live with an ever-expanding lineup of collaborators, the band remains committed to exploring the unknown. Through Divinations, they hope to leave listeners feeling transcendent, levitating on waves of intuition and discovery.

This rare 12" outing from Rocafort Records features the rapping and production talents of Andy Cooper (Ugly Duckling/The Allergies). Taken from the forthcoming album 'The Layered Effect', both tracks throw you around the hip hop boxing ring, slapping you hard with the prerequisites needed for microphone supremacy. Lyrically tough and musically nimble, Andy swings at you somewhere between the artful dodger and a heavyweight pugilist.

The irresistably bouyant 'Here Comes Another One' opens by means of an elegant old jazz trumpet whose player states "rhythm is my business". Get the picture It's a choppy, jazztastic journey. Cleverly underpinned by a gorgeous jazz piano, horns, sharp beats and aural treats, suddenly mashed up by a reggae toasting session on speed courtesy of Blabbermouf.

'The Perfect Definition' has a heavier step and a more serious punch. Fresh and funky attitude meets a deeply earnest reverence towards microphone art, a theme echoed throughout the LP and cherisheddearly by Cooper.

Two tracks that certainly roll with the punches.Out in November. A sure tonic to the winter blues.

Back in December 2016, Jeshi fell asleep whilst driving home from a party at 5am, and he crashed into a park car, only to be woken up by the airbag exploding in his face. This is the inspiration for album two. The new album is a statement of waking up and levelling up from the last period of his life. This is a new era, and full of energy.

SHORT BIOG

Jeshi doesn't run away from fire; he runs with it. The East London artist is on a quest to feel alive in every sense. To him, feeling alive means being present in each experience, no matter how challenging. For Jeshi - who has spent the last few years establishing himself as one of the most exciting voices of his generation - this is what life and art are all about. Chaos, then, is not something to shy away from, but where great ideas are born.
Jeshi's electrifying second album, AIRBAG WOKE ME UP is a collection of moment-capturing songs built to ignite reactions and start conversations. His scene-stealing jaunts to stages worldwide clearly influence its live-wire sound, as Jeshi and his cohorts smash through moods and tempos like kids let loose on funfair dodgems. "I want to make things that have intent and feel like statements," Jeshi declares. His versatile voice is the conductive thread that pulls everything together. "On Universal Credit, my voice was used in one way, whereas on this it's used in ten ways," he notes.
AIRBAG WOKE ME UP is an exploration into what happens when you emerge from tough times, and how they encourage you to view the world a little differently. It's bolder in ambition and built from renewed energy. Chaotic, but in the very best way. "In my head, this is the real arrival chapter," states Jeshi. "The 'I am here, I've arrived' moment."

"It's a game of hopscotch while drunk on sleep deprivation. It's a dance based on inaudible, but irrepressible rhythms. It's interaction dressed up like a call & response game wrapped up in a sparring match full of agitation and confusion. It's a manic pursuit over wobbly scaffolding, broken roof tiles or a creaking suspension bridge. It's an irregular movement that snaps, roars, drips, defies, tumbles, slithers, cajoles, interrupts, sizzles, triples, dodges, throws curveballs, causes panic, restores order, well kinda, and stutters and mutters. It's like Jaap Blonk's invented Onderlands: a language that sounds familiar, but that ultimately defies comprehension. It's part application and part imagination, it's a mystery and a trap. It's a system, perhaps, and an attempt at something, probably, but it's not, definitely not, a holiday. The idea!" - Guy Peters Ken Vandermark (US) and Terrie `Ex' Hessels (NL) have been playing together for years. For example, the Chicago reed player has been a guest with The Ex almost 100 times and the two are also part of Lean Left, an explosive improvising quartet with Andy Moor and Paal Nilssen-Love. It took them until 2014 before they went on stage for the first time as a duo. A dozen concerts followed on various international stages and resulted in their first LP `Scaffolding' recorded upstairs in the Witte Villa, Wormer. Released in 2019. This new release is the result of an blasting tour in Poland, 2021. Recorded live in the SARP Social Club in Poznan. `This is not a holiday!' Eight improvisations; eight musical adventures!

M_Sessions - Reworks is offering a contemporary version of Mania D., Malaria and Matador’s music for the 40th anniversary. Bringing the past into the now and into the future.
Monika Werkstatt seemed the perfect choice for new interpretations. Founded in 2015, comprising female electronic musicians and producers from the entourage of Monika Enterprise and Moabit Musik. The loose collective played dozens of improvised concerts around Europe and released a studio album and live recordings in everchanging artist constellations. The M_Sessions involved Pilocka Krach, Beate Bartel, Midori Hirano, Mommo G, Lucrecia Dalt, Antye Greie-Ripatti, Natalie Beridze, Annika Henderson and myself. Here the form of interpretation is focussing on keeping the freedom of their improvised work and adapting it to the collective appropriation of songs. I cannot imagine a better reinterpretation of the material with its real life ups and downs and with its enthusiasm. (G.Gut)

"The three, reunited: Malaria, Matador and Mania D, unter einem Dach, but gutted, replaced with electronic hearts, new beats, new beasts, the time has changed, yet the politics, the problems, the heartache remains the same. 2021 sees the anniversary of the 3 M’s and therewith the production of an album of songs, covering a selection of the bands’ finest output, this time assembled by a new set of feminist misfits; producers, fangirls, instrumentalists, under the strict guidance of original members Gudrun Gut and Beate Bartel. M-Sessions features: AGF, Lucrecia Dalt, Sonae, Midori Hirano, Islaja, Natalie Beridze, Pilocka Krach, Annika Henderson (Anika), Lupe, Gudrun Gut and Beate Bartel. Beginning in West Berlin, in 1979, with the inception of Mania D, spawning Malaria! and later Matador; in a time when music was essential to movement, to escape, to space, to the scene and to the rebellion of the people; three bands stood for trial and error, trial and terror, anti- conformity, and anti-consumerism, for girl power and sticking it to the man, and for just doing whatever the hell they wanted. The three, their existence slightly staggered, with different members, different grudges, different heartbreaks, different instrumental expressions, were joined by a string of barbed wire, piecing pigeon hearts, within the playground that was the desolate ex-capital, now again capital, Berlin; a place where artists and freaks could run free amongst the wrinklies and army dodgers; no microscopes, no rules, no property developers." (ANNIKA HENDERSON)

No one has lived a life quite like Marcos Valle. He became an overnight international sensation, fled a military dictatorship, dodged the Vietnam war draft, had his music sung by Homer Simpson, made enemies with Marlon Brando, and became an unsuspecting fitness guru for multiple generations. But to truly understand the great Brazilian composer, arranger, singer and multi instrumentalist, one must listen to his music.

Lead Single (Life Is What It Is) : Between the release of his first album in 1962 and today, Marcos Valle has released twenty-two studio albums traversing definitive bossa nova, classic samba, iconic disco pop, psychedelic rock, nineties dance and orchestral music. He has also had his songs recorded by some of the all time greats, including Frank Sinatra, Sarah Vaughn, Sergio Mendes, Elis Regina, and (last but not least), Emma Button of the Spice Girls. He has also had his music sampled by Jay-Z, Kanye West, Pusha T and many more.


With his twenty-third studio album Túnel Acustico, Valle set out to bring it all together.

“I believe my music is many things. It goes in different directions. I have many different ways of writing music, sometimes it’s melodies and harmony, sometimes the groove is the focus. But all the music I have made over my sixty year career is unified. It is all natural and it is all sincere. And this is what I wanted to bring to my new album.”

A prominent feature of Valle’s career has been his dual residence between Brazil and the USA. Originally moving over in the mid-sixties on the back of bossa nova’s international proliferation, Valle toured with Sergio Mendes and became hugely in demand as a composer and arranger. But the Vietnam War loomed and the threat of being drafted saw him return to Brazil. He spent the following years in Rio writing music for TV and film, as well as four cult favourite albums in collaboration with some of Brazil’s most groundbreaking musicians including Milton Nascimento, Azymuth, Som Imaginario and O Terco.

By 1975, Brazil's military dictatorship was at its most oppressive, making living and working increasingly difficult. Valle moved back to the US where he would reside in LA, writing songs for, and collaborating with the likes of Eumir Deodato, Airto Moreira, Chicago, Sarah Vaughn and Leon Ware, amongst others.

Túnel Acústico features two songs originally conceived during Valle’s time on the West Coast: “Feels So Good”, a stirring two-step soul triumph written in 1979 with soul icon Leon Ware, and the sublime AOR disco track “Life Is What It Is”, composed around the same time, with percussionist Laudir De Oliveira from the group Chicago.

Built around an unfinished demo Marcos found on a shelf in his house 44 years after it was made, the “Feels So Good” demo was restored with the help of producer Daniel Maunick, who also utilised AI stem-separation to remove the placeholder vocal ad-libs. Valle added Portuguese lyrics to sit alongside Ware’s vocal hook, as well as extra keyboards and percussion.

Also written in late seventies LA, “Life Is What Is It” was co-penned by Laudir De Oliveira from the band Chicago and first released on the bands’ Chicago 13 album with lyrics by Robert Lamb. Another nod to his good times in LA, Valle recorded his own version for Túnel Acústico, upping the tempo and deepening the groove for a blast of irresistible summer soul.

On Túnel Acústico, Valle's core band features two members of the renowned Brazilian jazz-funk group Azymuth: Alex Malheiros on bass and Renato Massa on drums. The rhythm section is completed by percussionist Ian Moreira, with additional contributions from guitarist Paulinho Guitarra and trumpeter Jesse Sadoc.

The contemporarily composed music on Túnel Acústico features an impressive lineup of guest lyricists, including renowned Brazilian artists: Joyce Moreno (Bora Meu Vem), Céu (Nao Sei), and Moreno Veloso (Palavras Tão Gentis) as well as Valle's brother Paulo Sergio Valle (Tem Que Ser Feliz).

The album closes with "Thank You Burt (For Bacharach)", a tribute to the legendary composer who passed away in 2023.

Túnel Acústico will be released on 20th September 2024 via Far Out Recordings. Valle is set to tour Europe and America in support of the album.

No one has lived a life quite like Marcos Valle. He became an overnight international sensation, fled a military dictatorship, dodged the Vietnam war draft, had his music sung by Homer Simpson, made enemies with Marlon Brando, and became an unsuspecting fitness guru for multiple generations. But to truly understand the great Brazilian composer, arranger, singer and multi instrumentalist, one must listen to his music.

Lead Single (Life Is What It Is) : Between the release of his first album in 1962 and today, Marcos Valle has released twenty-two studio albums traversing definitive bossa nova, classic samba, iconic disco pop, psychedelic rock, nineties dance and orchestral music. He has also had his songs recorded by some of the all time greats, including Frank Sinatra, Sarah Vaughn, Sergio Mendes, Elis Regina, and (last but not least), Emma Button of the Spice Girls. He has also had his music sampled by Jay-Z, Kanye West, Pusha T and many more.


With his twenty-third studio album Túnel Acustico, Valle set out to bring it all together.

“I believe my music is many things. It goes in different directions. I have many different ways of writing music, sometimes it’s melodies and harmony, sometimes the groove is the focus. But all the music I have made over my sixty year career is unified. It is all natural and it is all sincere. And this is what I wanted to bring to my new album.”

A prominent feature of Valle’s career has been his dual residence between Brazil and the USA. Originally moving over in the mid-sixties on the back of bossa nova’s international proliferation, Valle toured with Sergio Mendes and became hugely in demand as a composer and arranger. But the Vietnam War loomed and the threat of being drafted saw him return to Brazil. He spent the following years in Rio writing music for TV and film, as well as four cult favourite albums in collaboration with some of Brazil’s most groundbreaking musicians including Milton Nascimento, Azymuth, Som Imaginario and O Terco.

By 1975, Brazil's military dictatorship was at its most oppressive, making living and working increasingly difficult. Valle moved back to the US where he would reside in LA, writing songs for, and collaborating with the likes of Eumir Deodato, Airto Moreira, Chicago, Sarah Vaughn and Leon Ware, amongst others.

Túnel Acústico features two songs originally conceived during Valle’s time on the West Coast: “Feels So Good”, a stirring two-step soul triumph written in 1979 with soul icon Leon Ware, and the sublime AOR disco track “Life Is What It Is”, composed around the same time, with percussionist Laudir De Oliveira from the group Chicago.

Built around an unfinished demo Marcos found on a shelf in his house 44 years after it was made, the “Feels So Good” demo was restored with the help of producer Daniel Maunick, who also utilised AI stem-separation to remove the placeholder vocal ad-libs. Valle added Portuguese lyrics to sit alongside Ware’s vocal hook, as well as extra keyboards and percussion.

Also written in late seventies LA, “Life Is What Is It” was co-penned by Laudir De Oliveira from the band Chicago and first released on the bands’ Chicago 13 album with lyrics by Robert Lamb. Another nod to his good times in LA, Valle recorded his own version for Túnel Acústico, upping the tempo and deepening the groove for a blast of irresistible summer soul.

On Túnel Acústico, Valle's core band features two members of the renowned Brazilian jazz-funk group Azymuth: Alex Malheiros on bass and Renato Massa on drums. The rhythm section is completed by percussionist Ian Moreira, with additional contributions from guitarist Paulinho Guitarra and trumpeter Jesse Sadoc.

The contemporarily composed music on Túnel Acústico features an impressive lineup of guest lyricists, including renowned Brazilian artists: Joyce Moreno (Bora Meu Vem), Céu (Nao Sei), and Moreno Veloso (Palavras Tão Gentis) as well as Valle's brother Paulo Sergio Valle (Tem Que Ser Feliz).

The album closes with "Thank You Burt (For Bacharach)", a tribute to the legendary composer who passed away in 2023.

Túnel Acústico will be released on 20th September 2024 via Far Out Recordings. Valle is set to tour Europe and America in support of the album.

No one has lived a life quite like Marcos Valle. He became an overnight international sensation, fled a military dictatorship, dodged the Vietnam war draft, had his music sung by Homer Simpson, made enemies with Marlon Brando, and became an unsuspecting fitness guru for multiple generations. But to truly understand the great Brazilian composer, arranger, singer and multi instrumentalist, one must listen to his music.

Lead Single (Life Is What It Is) : Between the release of his first album in 1962 and today, Marcos Valle has released twenty-two studio albums traversing definitive bossa nova, classic samba, iconic disco pop, psychedelic rock, nineties dance and orchestral music. He has also had his songs recorded by some of the all time greats, including Frank Sinatra, Sarah Vaughn, Sergio Mendes, Elis Regina, and (last but not least), Emma Button of the Spice Girls. He has also had his music sampled by Jay-Z, Kanye West, Pusha T and many more.


With his twenty-third studio album Túnel Acustico, Valle set out to bring it all together.

“I believe my music is many things. It goes in different directions. I have many different ways of writing music, sometimes it’s melodies and harmony, sometimes the groove is the focus. But all the music I have made over my sixty year career is unified. It is all natural and it is all sincere. And this is what I wanted to bring to my new album.”

A prominent feature of Valle’s career has been his dual residence between Brazil and the USA. Originally moving over in the mid-sixties on the back of bossa nova’s international proliferation, Valle toured with Sergio Mendes and became hugely in demand as a composer and arranger. But the Vietnam War loomed and the threat of being drafted saw him return to Brazil. He spent the following years in Rio writing music for TV and film, as well as four cult favourite albums in collaboration with some of Brazil’s most groundbreaking musicians including Milton Nascimento, Azymuth, Som Imaginario and O Terco.

By 1975, Brazil's military dictatorship was at its most oppressive, making living and working increasingly difficult. Valle moved back to the US where he would reside in LA, writing songs for, and collaborating with the likes of Eumir Deodato, Airto Moreira, Chicago, Sarah Vaughn and Leon Ware, amongst others.

Túnel Acústico features two songs originally conceived during Valle’s time on the West Coast: “Feels So Good”, a stirring two-step soul triumph written in 1979 with soul icon Leon Ware, and the sublime AOR disco track “Life Is What It Is”, composed around the same time, with percussionist Laudir De Oliveira from the group Chicago.

Built around an unfinished demo Marcos found on a shelf in his house 44 years after it was made, the “Feels So Good” demo was restored with the help of producer Daniel Maunick, who also utilised AI stem-separation to remove the placeholder vocal ad-libs. Valle added Portuguese lyrics to sit alongside Ware’s vocal hook, as well as extra keyboards and percussion.

Also written in late seventies LA, “Life Is What Is It” was co-penned by Laudir De Oliveira from the band Chicago and first released on the bands’ Chicago 13 album with lyrics by Robert Lamb. Another nod to his good times in LA, Valle recorded his own version for Túnel Acústico, upping the tempo and deepening the groove for a blast of irresistible summer soul.

On Túnel Acústico, Valle's core band features two members of the renowned Brazilian jazz-funk group Azymuth: Alex Malheiros on bass and Renato Massa on drums. The rhythm section is completed by percussionist Ian Moreira, with additional contributions from guitarist Paulinho Guitarra and trumpeter Jesse Sadoc.

The contemporarily composed music on Túnel Acústico features an impressive lineup of guest lyricists, including renowned Brazilian artists: Joyce Moreno (Bora Meu Vem), Céu (Nao Sei), and Moreno Veloso (Palavras Tão Gentis) as well as Valle's brother Paulo Sergio Valle (Tem Que Ser Feliz).

The album closes with "Thank You Burt (For Bacharach)", a tribute to the legendary composer who passed away in 2023.

Túnel Acústico will be released on 20th September 2024 via Far Out Recordings. Valle is set to tour Europe and America in support of the album.

For fans of - Darko, Bad Omens, Deftones, Alice In Chains On tour in the US April- May 2024 w/ Attila + Born Of Osiris Band names go a long way in helping paint a figurative picture in the listeners mind of what to expect before one ever hits “play.” When it comes to Extortionist, you think crime—you think gritty, raw, merciless and unsavory and maybe, just maybe, a little sprinkling of suaveness. When it comes to the Pacific Northwest’s resident moshslingers, those premonitions from their name are exactly what you get. As a band who have proven themselves exemplary at styles of heavy music ranging from downtempo deathcore to grunge- tinted metal, Extortionist are more than just a jack-of-all-trades; they’re masters. Utilizing bold, roaring guitars overtop crushing, steamrolling percussion and vocals that run the gamut from guttural to grating, pitched singing and topped off with—you guessed it—a now-infamous dodgeball-smack snare, Extortionist have proven that not only are they incredible at what they do, they’re a band that the heavy scene just can’t go without.

In the spring of 1954 Jazz-great Dave Brubeck did a tour of North American college campuses. Paul Desmond (alto sax), Bob Bates (bass), and Joe Dodge (drums) joined him and their support of Brubeck’s uniformly flawless, ultimately producing what many consider as the most memorable music in the artist’s cannon. Indeed, the genre gets schooled as the quartet leans in with striking energy and finesse. Enjoyed among college students in the 1950s and early 1960s both the tour and album brought Jazz to a whole new generation. Jazz Goes To College is available on black vinyl.

Nothing Makes Sense Without It, the seminal sophomore LP by Kind of Like Spitting, is finalyl getting the deluxe reissue that it deserves.. The group's second album, originally released in 2000, is a heartbreakingly tender effort, with songwriter Ben Barnett's signature, sullen voice aching across twelve slow-burners. Now, 24 years after its original vinyl pressing, the album has been reissued as a deluxe 2xLP featuring an entire extra LP of demos and unreleased tracks. Whether you're replacing your worn out original pressing or just discovering Nothing Makes Sense Without It, this reissue is a must have for both longtime die-hards or any fan of the music of Kind of Like Spitting's northwest indie contemporaries like Death Cab For Cutie, Pedro The Lion and Elliott Smith.

Bed Maker's origins date back to summer 2019, when bassist Arthur Noll (Light Beams, Kid Congo Powers) and drummer Vin Novara (The Crownhate Ruin, 1.6 Band), each having played in Alarms & Controls, invited guitarist Jeff Barsky (Insect Factory, Time Is Fire) to collaborate and see what might happen. By autumn, they invited Amanda MacKaye (Desiderata, Routineers) to join them, and the chemistry was immediate. In February 2020 at DC's Rhizome, Bed Maker played their first show and then paused their activities the follow- ing month, as did most people.
Due to the state of the world in 2020 and 2021, they continued writing music through sharing recordings. Mike Schleibaum assisted by assembling home recordings of their individual parts into working demos. This allowed them to keep momentum, and by the time in-person rehearsals resumed, a handful of songs and new ideas were close to fruition. Bed Maker resumed playing shows in November 2022.
Following a self-released digital single ("Miss Dickens") and an EP (Three on the Tree) -- each recorded with Schleibaum and Matt Michel at Viva Studios -- Bed Maker began work on their self-titled LP in May 2023 with Ian MacKaye and Don Zientara at the original Inner Ear Studio in his basement in Arlington, VA, and with Mike Schleibaum at his home studio in Maryland.
That their debut LP even exists is only possible thanks to the support of family and many friends, and also serves as an act of defiance to the horrors of the last four-plus years.

Das Jahrhundertkonzert der 3 Tenöre vor 30 Jahren - jetzt auf farbigem Vinyl Sie waren die wohl berühmtesten Opernsänger der Welt: José Carreras, Plácido Domingo und Luciano Pavarotti. Gemeinsam füllten sie als "Die drei Tenöre" ganze Fußballstadien. Eine dieser vom Publikum geliebten Großveranstaltungen fand vor genau 30 Jahren statt, am 16. Juli 1994 im Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles. Schon damals holte die Übertragung des Ereignisses über 1,3 Milliarden Fernsehzuschauer vor die Bildschirme. Zum 30-jährigen Jubiläum erscheint nun eine limitierte und kolorierte Doppel-LP mit dem Live-Mitschnitt des Konzerts. Unvergessen ist Luciano Pavarottis Interpretation von Puccinis "Nessun dorma". An ihr müssen sich - lange nach dem Tod des Sängers - noch heute Tenöre messen lassen. Arien von Verdi und Massenet wechseln sich ab mit Evergreens aus der goldenen Ära Hollywoods von "Moon River" bis "Singin? in the Rain". Auch (bis dahin) unbekannte, aber mitreißende Lieder und Arien aus ihren Heimatländern präsentierten die drei Tenöre wie "Amor, vida de mi vida". Den Abschluss des grandiosen Abends bildet das Medley "Around the World". Begleitet wurden die drei Tenöre vom Los Angeles Philharmonic unter der Leitung von Star-Dirigent Zubin Mehta. - Lustiger Fingerzeig der Geschichte: Eines der größten Konzerte der drei Tenöre ereignete sich direkt vor dem FIFA World Cup 1994. 30 Jahre später startet die UEFA European Championship just am Erscheinungstag der Jubiläums-Edition.

'Hex Dealer' ist das Debütalbum der New Yorker Electronic-Punk-Band Lip Critic. Produziert von Sänger Bret Kaser sowie Connor Kleitz. Ihr eklektischer Sampling-Stil wird durch die ansteckenden Breakbeats und knackigen Snares der Schlagzeuger Danny Eberle und Ilan Natter noch verstärkt.

12 rasante Tracks, eine einzigartige Mischung aus klassischem Punk/Hardcore und elektronischen Stilmitteln. Postmoderner Pop wie gemacht für eine Zukunft ohne Genregrenzen. Unverwechselbar, tanzbar, manisch und pendelnd zwischen den extremsten Emotionen.

NME ("auf dem Weg zur nächsten großen NYC-Band"), Paste ("ein apokalyptisches Ödland aus NYCs bestem Underground-Punk"), Rolling Stone ("Songs, die man kennen muss"), Loud & Quiet ("einer der meistdiskutierten Acts in NYC"), Mary Anne Hobbs auf BBC 6 Music und Matt Wilkinson ("absolut unverzichtbar") feiern Lip Critic schon jetzt.

'Hex Dealer' ist das Debütalbum der New Yorker Electronic-Punk-Band Lip Critic. Produziert von Sänger Bret Kaser sowie Connor Kleitz. Ihr eklektischer Sampling-Stil wird durch die ansteckenden Breakbeats und knackigen Snares der Schlagzeuger Danny Eberle und Ilan Natter noch verstärkt.

12 rasante Tracks, eine einzigartige Mischung aus klassischem Punk/Hardcore und elektronischen Stilmitteln. Postmoderner Pop wie gemacht für eine Zukunft ohne Genregrenzen. Unverwechselbar, tanzbar, manisch und pendelnd zwischen den extremsten Emotionen.

NME ("auf dem Weg zur nächsten großen NYC-Band"), Paste ("ein apokalyptisches Ödland aus NYCs bestem Underground-Punk"), Rolling Stone ("Songs, die man kennen muss"), Loud & Quiet ("einer der meistdiskutierten Acts in NYC"), Mary Anne Hobbs auf BBC 6 Music und Matt Wilkinson ("absolut unverzichtbar") feiern Lip Critic schon jetzt.