Buscar:down south music

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

3rd volume in Luaka Bop’s critically acclaimed World
Spirituality Classics series, illuminating the relationship between
music and belief following Alice Coltrane and “Time For Peace Is
Now”

Alhaji Waziri Oshomah begins his sermon before a dancing crowd. His
lyrics warn about the vice of jealousy but the congregation is here to get down. We’re in a small part of Edo State in southern Nigeria called
Afenmailand, which is known for being a harmonious region where Muslims and Christians live and dance together. The atmosphere is one of enjoyment, excitement, and pleasure, because to see Waziri perform is to be addressed, body and soul. He’s the creator of a unique dance music that’s fused with local folk styles, highlife, and Western pop, and imbued with Islamic values— and he’s the greatest entertainer in all of Edo State.

They call him the Etsako Super Star.

Alhaji Waziri Oshomah begins his sermon before a dancing crowd. His lyrics warn about the vice of jealousy but the congregation is here to get down. We're in a small part of Edo State in southern Nigeria called Afenmailand, which is known for being a harmonious region where Muslims and Christians live and dance together. The atmosphere is one of enjoyment, excitement, and pleasure, because to see Waziri perform is to be addressed, body and soul. He's the creator of a unique dance music that's fused with local folk styles, highlife, and Western pop, and imbued with Islamic values - and he's the greatest entertainer in all of Edo State. They call him the Etsako Super Star.

Kinetika Bloco's 'Legacy' now on limited-edition vinyl with 6-panel poster
of the cover artwork
'Legacy' celebrates the 21st anniversary of the carnival group of the same name,
which was founded by Mat Fox in South London. Usually around 100 strong, this
scaled-down group of Kinetika alumni led by Mat's son Ruben Fox revisit some of
the Bloco's iconic pieces on this landmark recording and features saxophonist
Nubya Garcia, pianist Reuben James and trumpeters Mark Kavuma, Claude
Deppa and Ife Ogunjobi.
They revisit some of the Bloco's iconic pieces on this landmark recording. What is
effectively a big band with guitar, Hammond B3 and a four-piece rhythm section
of Brazilian surdos (bass drums), bells and snare drums, their sound is
refreshingly new, enthralling, and vibrant.
George Clinton: "Don't ever stop grooving like that, you (Kinetika Bloco) own the
world."
Press quotes:
"Kinetika Bloco has created a unique new British carnival sound, drawing its
influences from the Caribbean, Brazil, Africa and New Orleans." - Jazzwise
"Kinetika Bloco are a phenomenon - over the last twenty years the percussion and
horn heavy collective have evolved their own irresistible version of carnival music,
drawing on the many traditions of the Black Atlantic, while acting as a hothouse
for talent development for generations of young London musicians." - Jazzviews
"The group sounds like a British carnival for today, drawing on a Caribbean,
Brazilian, African and New Orleanian influence. Legacy celebrates Kinetika Bloco's
21st anniversary." - Jazz Journal
Kinetika Bloco were featured in the Queen's Platinum Jubilee Pageant, as seen on
TV by millions.

2LP + 7'' 2022 Repress

This limited edition set contains the original LP plus a 10 track bonus LP and a bonus 7” with 2 previously unreleased tracks.
Remastered and pressed on colour vinyl with a reworked sleeve by original designer Andy Royston.
Including the singles Boy Meets Girl, So What; Should The Bible Be Banned; Keep An Open Mind Or Else & This Nelson Rockerfeller.
Originally released in 1989. The Enraged Will Inherit the Earth is a musical molotov cocktail that’s a mixture of power chords and virile, virtuous lyrics.
The songwriting is tightly forged and their knack for producing raw pop is at its finest here. The Enraged Will Inherit The Earth is a powerful weapon that didn’t get enough of a user base to make its intended impact. If the question was ever proposed, “can art be a weapon?” I think this album answers with a bold and resounding “yes.”

Steppin up, steppin in. Tom Esselle, one half of the minds behind the South London label and former Peckham record store, Yam Records, joins the WOLF Music fam for his first full length EP. And you best believe it doesn’t disappoint.

Following VA appearances on Rhythm Section and his own imprint, he goes all out for this first solo EP outing. Shuffling bumpers, SE LDN jazz-flecked deepness, tough drum workouts and broken beat heaters, all mixed down by Chaos In The CBD main man Beans, this really does have a cut for every occasion and shows an accomplished head rests on Esselle’s shoulders. Someone who’s been part of the scene for years, slingin records and throwing parties, he knows what makes people tick and even better what makes people move.

This is premium grade dancefloor business, tinged by a whole host of different influences and genres, strung together with that distinctive South London feel.

Highlighting the continuing evolution of Durban's globally influential gqom sound, this special trilogy of releases showcases three separate artists from South Africa's fertile musical landscape. The set captures a fresh wave of gqom innovation from veteran producer DJ Skothan/DJ Scoturn, DJ Scriby, and 20-year-old DJ MaRiiO. DJ Skothan/DJ Scoturn has been a key figure in Durban's underground scene for many years, producing alongside Phelimuncasi, Bhejani, Tweeyking, Lafaristo, MaRiiO and DJ MP3. His gqom and house tracks have quietly provided a rumbling engine for the city's scene, and "Nevegation" is his debut full-length, providing a complex diagram of his dancefloor versatility. This isn't the gqom you might expect to hear: immediately on opener 'The Gringo' familiar sounds - shovel kicks, chopped vocals, sampled gasps, horror movie strings - are shuffled into atypical patterns, creating jerky soundscapes rather than the expected four-on-the-floor bump. 'Salut to DJ Lag' pays respect to Durban's Beyoncé-approved pioneer, but twists the template into a propulsive new form, adding rolling and evolving percussion that teases fractal shapes each bar. But the album's most unexpected and forward-thinking moment arrives with the aptly titled 'The King of Gqom', a track that simmers the genre's percussive sounds into limber sci-fi club futurism, tweaking the bass sounds into patterns that nod to dubstep, Jersey club and ballroom. 25-year-old DJ Scriby has been working behind the scenes since 2013, assisting the first wave of gqom innovators promote their sound both inside Durban and beyond. In 2017 he joined London's Trax Couture to release "The Clermont EP", and here he introduces his long-awaited follow-up "Izingoma zeGqomu". Scriby's approach to gqom is well-studied and self-aware, which gives him the ability to stretch the sound's scope across the diaspora: just peep the Atlanta trap synths on the dynamic 'Friday 13th', or the absorption of tight grime snares on opening track 'Goi'. Scriby's engineering skill pushes his productions to the next level, lending slithering downtempo tracks like 'Ouuu1' and 'Igqom Libuye' a widescreen, big-room punch without losing the genre's undulating funk. And the producer even eyes the EDM mainstage with 'Qumqum!!', balancing saccharine synths with jerky kicks, claps and rolling toms. The youngest artist featured in the collection, DJ MaRiiO started producing when he was just 12 years old, watching YouTube production videos. "No one told me how to use FL Studio," he admits, "and no one helped me doing different genres." This might be why his music sounds so completely unique; the basic structure of gqom is still present, but MaRiiO augments these elements with youthful energy and carefree use of unusual sounds and production methods. "Zulu Man" opener 'GQom NyeGe' manages to mash together trance synths, DMZ bass and a driving woodblock rhythm that reminds you of its Durban roots, while the bizarre 'Ngom ya Phesh', featuring MaRiiO's regular collaborator Hot Chicks on vocals, pushes the gqom template into the red, with overdriven kicks and disorienting environmental sounds. All three records provide a 360 degree view of Durban's contemporary underground, nodding to the past, present and future of gqom. It's a genre that's constantly in flux as it moves from South Africa's bedrooms and basements to main stages and movie screens across the globe.

DJ Black Low burst on the international scene last year with Uwami, a collection of his early, downright avantgarde amapiano work. The young producer and DJ makes electronic music that sounds like nothing else: glitchy and fierce while smooth and soulful, all under the rubric of South Africa's most-exported dance music movement to date. Now comes Uwami II, which features the rest of the tracks from the acclaimed debut plus a new song "Gijima." The Pretoria, South Africa-based artist has more work in the pipeline as we present these inimitable songs for the first time on vinyl. The song "Gijima" is a previously unreleased track Black Low chose to include in this collection as cremates more work at a furious pace. "This is essential listening from a 20 year-old star." - Resident Advisor Best Tracks of 2021 "Uwami keeps an adventurous spirit at its core and pushes far beyond genre conventions in the process." - The Vinyl Factory "A producer with a fully realized voice." - Bandcamp Best Albums of Winter 2021 "The hard hitting beats of the electronic percussions make the songs seem like they're out of this planet." - AfroPop Worldwide

Emily Fairlight is a New Zealand songwriter with a rare talent for capturing the bare essence of stories and moods, combining beautifully honest lyrics with heartfelt melodies. The prevalence of acoustic guitar and intimate sharing of lived experience through song hint at folk music - or, as Fairlight self-deprecatingly calls it, “doom-folk”. Her powerful quivering vibrato and stark, haunting vocal tone are teak-hard yet soft as crushed velvet and have elicited comparisons to PJ Harvey, Bridget St John, Natalie Merchant and Cat Power, all musicians with distinctive voices and a lyrical talent for conjuring a kind of experiential realism. Sun Casts a Shadow is a stripped-down, timeless blend of Fairlight and McLeod’s songs, voices and guitars. Fairlight’s material carries the weight of experience, with McLeod’s harmony vocals and guitar adding colours from The Shifting Sands’ South Pacific Cosmic Rock palette to these vignettes of heartbreak and hope, while Fairlight’s voice brings character and a spectral quality to The Shifting Sands’ songs. With a pandemic devastating the international tour-scape in 2020, Emily's prolific writing continued back in NZ and another album has been recorded, showcasing a broader sonic palette and the continued maturing of Emily's songcraft. In the way that In The Pines marked a kind of unpressured bookend to the Triffids’ auspicious beginnings, before they took their next, bold, step, Sun Casts a Shadow is a quietly intriguing bridge between Fairlight’s past and future; a chapter in a story with many more to come

Here we are at the dawn of a new compilation series and we’re kicking things off with an absolute gem that features a selection of hard-to-find records (some impossible to find) and some that have been hiding in plain sight all along. They all share common qualities, being that they are beautiful, soul quenched songs that sing of love, peace and unity.

‘With Love: Volume 1’ has been compiled by Miche and presents a curated selection of rare Brazilian, gospel, modern soul and jazz-fusion fire. We have Brazilian rarities by Alcione and Quientaessencia, UFO gospel by Keith Chism & Light, the jazz-funk/AOR sounds of City Lites taken from a Radio Station album, and the anthemic feel-good emotional soul of Belita Woods to name but a few.

Tracking down artists and musicians from the past is an art form. Like a seagull swooping for treats, sometimes the prizes are easily found, and at other times, it’s the result of very late nights trolling through Facebook profiles, message boards, hitting dead ends and following red herrings, and yet still the search goes on. This compilation is a true labour of love with all the artists tracked down and licensed by Miche. It has long been an ambition of the London based musical connoisseur to compile an album, and like anything that requires craft, care, and knowledge - it takes time. There are many twists and turns in the hunt for those records that make your jaw drop.

In 2018, when just 24, Miche became a music programmer for London’s illustrious Spiritland group of venues. From this musical sanctuary, he was able to listen, learn and meet some of the best selectors from around the world. It was a musical education, and he was particularly drawn to the deep sessions by DJs such as Mark Taylor, George Arthur, Kev Beadle, Patrick Forge, Dr. Bob Jones, and Colin Curtis to name a few. He also used this time to begin running his re-issue label Discs of Fun and Love with co-owner and friend Frederika.

Sometimes the cynical knock compilations, there is certain snobbery amongst some about the original pressing, but music shouldn't just be about lucky collectors giving over large sums of money to record dealers. It's also about a bridge to the past, a celebration of the legacy of somebody’s art, and a second chance for initially overlooked work to shine. As with all the best compilations, it has been compiled with love…

For genre-bending band Whiskey Myers, 2019’s self-titled and self-produced album offered a watershed moment. With Rolling Stone raving that the “irresistible” album was “the record the band was poised to make” while declaring them “the new torch bearers for Southern music” in a story titled “How Whiskey Myers Won Over Mick Jagger and Made the Album of Their Career;” Billboard and No Depression naming the album to best-of-the-year lists; 41,000 first week album sales; and the project debuting atop both the Country and Americana album charts (as well as at No. 2 on the Rock charts, behind only a re-release of The Beatles’ Abbey Road), the band celebrated mainstream success a decade in the making. Now, after spending 21 days isolated at the 2,300-acre Sonic Ranch studio deep in the heart of their native Texas, just miles from the U.S./Mexico border, the Gold-certified renegades have doubled down on what they do best: sharing honest truths with no-holds-barred instrumentation, letting the self-produced music speak for itself. Yet with Tornillo, named for the border town that is home to the pecan orchard-filled recording complex and set for release on July 29 via their own Wiggy Thump Records with distribution by Thirty Tigers, the six-piece band has taken their solid decade-plus foundation and pushed themself to further explore new sonic landscapes. “It’s going to have a little bit different sound,” lead singer Cody Cannon shared recently with Outsider. “It’s still Whiskey Myers at its core, but it’s kind of fresh… We did a lot of bass and horns on this one, which is something we’ve always wanted to do. Just being fans of all that old music and Motown stuff, and a lot of the stuff coming out of Muscle Shoals, old rock and roll. “We’re going to bend genre even more, I think, with this new record,” he continued. “It’s all over the place. But that’s fun, right? I hate the whole ‘Put it in a box. You gotta be this.’ … That’s not art to me. I love the idea of just doing, really, whatever you feel. It comes out a certain way because that’s just how it comes out. Whiskey Myers never really tried to be a certain way. It’s just how we are. So I think that’s really the whole thing about music, or the beauty about music; it’s just that freedom to create.” Tornillo as a whole does exactly that, drawing as much inspiration from Nirvana as from Waylon Jennings – even adding the legendary McCrary Sisters’ gospel influence to the project on background vocals. With Cannon leading the way on songwriting, the album also features writes from lead guitarist John Jeffers and fellow bandmembers Jamey Gleaves and Tony Kent, as well as rising singer/songwriter Aaron Raitiere (Anderson East, Oak Ridge Boys, A Star is Born).

Alien Men is a 9 track compilation of abstract Dub & Synth experiments by a range of new artists coming out of Glasgow's Southside.

The idea for the compilation came about during a time of lengthy periods of isolation, where loneliness, insecurity and a willlingness to connect with other like-minded souls was challenging or near impossible. The artwork was subsequently created and the music followed, allowing each producer to tell their own story throughout this period.

The music featured, although hard to pin down to one notion, is Bass/Grime-esq, mutant Dancehall in parts with awkward, Ambient synth moments across this essential Club/Not Club record.

Vanderwolf re-emerges with '12 Little Killers' an eclectic collection that
includes the deliciously oozing slice of psychedelia of the single Glisten,
which is heavily-slanted toward melting analogue synthesizers (Sam
Sallon) and rich layers of acoustic guitars (Chris Cordoba) and an
exquisite vocal by Max Vanderwolf
Recorded by producer Chris Wyles at his south London studio, the 12 songs were
selected, mixed and compiled by keyboardist and co- producer Sam Sallon. It's
available in a limited pressing of 500.
Vanderwolf's music spans a wide-range of genres from global beats to hard blues
to fragile balladry to prog- rock monstrosities and beyond. With a vast back
catalogue of songs to release, Vanderwolf is set to get his wild and restless
music out to the world.
Born in NYC, working in London and as of 2020 residing in Los Angeles, Max
Vanderwolf has recorded several albums and countless songs. Most of them
remain unreleased. Notably, he was vocalist and creative-force behind the semilegendary London band, Last Man Standing, whose sole album in 2008 received
plaudits from many including Mojo and Uncut.
Concurrent to his life in music, Vanderwolf has worked under an assumed name
as a music programmer and concert producer in some of the worlds' most
celebrated clubs and venues. He went from overseeing the legendary
underground downtown NYC's Knitting Factory to overseeing London's Royal
Festival Hall, where for 9 years he produced the Meltdown Festival where he
worked closely with David Bowie, Patti Smith, Jarvis Cocker, Massive Attack and
others. He has produced concerts in Brooklyn, Rome and Paris working closely
with John Cale, Sparks and the Residents.

Tape

Charlemagne Palestine (born Charles Martin ni 1947 in Brooklyn, New York) wrote intense, ritualistic music in the 1970s, intended by the composer to rub against audiences' expectations of what is beautiful and meaningful in music. A composer-performer, he always performed his own works as soloist. His earliest works were compositions for carillon and electronic drones, and he is best known for his intensely performed piano works. He also performs as a vocalist. Palestine's performance style is ritualistic; he generally surrounds himself (and his piano) with stuffed animals, smokes large numbers of kretek (Indonesian clove cigarettes) and drinks cognac.

Oren Ambarchi (born 1969 in Australia) is a composer and multi-instrumentalist with longstanding interests in transcending conventional instrumental approaches. His work focuses mainly on the exploration of the guitar, "re-routing the instrument into a zone of alien abstraction where it's no longer easily identifiable as itself. Instead, it's a laboratory for extended sonic investigation". (The Wire, UK).

Oren Ambarchi's works are hesitant and tense extended songforms located in the cracks between several schools: modern electronics and processing; laminal improvisation and minimalism; hushed, pensive songwriting; the deceptive simplicity and temporal suspensions of composers such as Morton Feldman and Alvin Lucier; and the physicality of rock music, slowed down and stripped back to its bare bones, abstracted and replaced with pure signal.

From the late 90's his experiments in guitar abstraction and extended technique have led to a more personal and unique sound-world incorporating a broader palette of instruments and sensibilities. On releases such as Grapes From The Estate and In The Pendulum's Embrace Ambarchi has employed glass harmonica, strings, bells, piano, drums and percussion, creating fragile textures as light as air which tenuously coexist with the deep, wall-shaking bass tones derived from his guitar.

Ambarchi works with simple constructs and parameters; exploring one idea over an extended duration and patiently teasing every nuance and implication from each texture; the phenomena of sum and difference tones; carefully tended arrangements that unravel gently; unprepossessing melodies that slowly work their way through various permutations; resulting in an otherworldly, cumulative impact of patiently unfolding compositions.

Ambarchi has performed and recorded with a diverse array of artists such as Fennesz, Otomo Yoshihide, Pimmon, Keiji Haino, John Zorn, Rizili, Voice Crack, Jim O'Rourke, Keith Rowe, Phill Niblock, Dave Grohl, Gunter Muller, Evan Parker, z'ev, Toshimaru Nakamura, Peter Rehberg, Merzbow, Kassel Jaeger, Anthony Pateras, Crys Cole, Giuseppe Ielasi, Judith Hamann, Sunn 0))), James Rushford, Stephen O'Malley and many more.

For 10 years together with Robbie Avenaim, Ambarchi was the co-organiser of the What Is Music? festival, Australia's premier annual showcase of local and international experimental music. Ambarchi now curates the Maximum Arousal series at The Toff In Town in Melbourne and has recently co-produced an Australian television series on experimental music called Subsonics. Ambarchi co-curated the sound program for the 2008 Yokohama Triennale. Ambarchi has released numerous recordings for international labels such as Touch, Southern Lord, Table Of The Elements and Tzadik.

Belgian drummer Eric Thielemans is one of the most idiosyncratic figures in Belgian music, someone who not only demonstrates that special musicians always seek out (and find) their own place, but above all that they always remain students of the art of questioning and listening. No musician better illustrates the difference between playing music and playing with music than percussionist Eric Thielemans. He gets to the heart of the matter with an at times extremely minimalist approach, but on the other hand he frequently relies on a range of objects beyond the regular drum kit: a drum placed on its side, a bicycle wheel with a bow, hands and the body.

Tape

Charlemagne Palestine (born Charles Martin ni 1947 in Brooklyn, New York) wrote intense, ritualistic music in the 1970s, intended by the composer to rub against audiences' expectations of what is beautiful and meaningful in music. A composer-performer, he always performed his own works as soloist. His earliest works were compositions for carillon and electronic drones, and he is best known for his intensely performed piano works. He also performs as a vocalist. Palestine's performance style is ritualistic; he generally surrounds himself (and his piano) with stuffed animals, smokes large numbers of kretek (Indonesian clove cigarettes) and drinks cognac.

Oren Ambarchi (born 1969 in Australia) is a composer and multi-instrumentalist with longstanding interests in transcending conventional instrumental approaches. His work focuses mainly on the exploration of the guitar, "re-routing the instrument into a zone of alien abstraction where it's no longer easily identifiable as itself. Instead, it's a laboratory for extended sonic investigation". (The Wire, UK).

Oren Ambarchi's works are hesitant and tense extended songforms located in the cracks between several schools: modern electronics and processing; laminal improvisation and minimalism; hushed, pensive songwriting; the deceptive simplicity and temporal suspensions of composers such as Morton Feldman and Alvin Lucier; and the physicality of rock music, slowed down and stripped back to its bare bones, abstracted and replaced with pure signal.

From the late 90's his experiments in guitar abstraction and extended technique have led to a more personal and unique sound-world incorporating a broader palette of instruments and sensibilities. On releases such as Grapes From The Estate and In The Pendulum's Embrace Ambarchi has employed glass harmonica, strings, bells, piano, drums and percussion, creating fragile textures as light as air which tenuously coexist with the deep, wall-shaking bass tones derived from his guitar.

Ambarchi works with simple constructs and parameters; exploring one idea over an extended duration and patiently teasing every nuance and implication from each texture; the phenomena of sum and difference tones; carefully tended arrangements that unravel gently; unprepossessing melodies that slowly work their way through various permutations; resulting in an otherworldly, cumulative impact of patiently unfolding compositions.

Ambarchi has performed and recorded with a diverse array of artists such as Fennesz, Otomo Yoshihide, Pimmon, Keiji Haino, John Zorn, Rizili, Voice Crack, Jim O'Rourke, Keith Rowe, Phill Niblock, Dave Grohl, Gunter Muller, Evan Parker, z'ev, Toshimaru Nakamura, Peter Rehberg, Merzbow, Kassel Jaeger, Anthony Pateras, Crys Cole, Giuseppe Ielasi, Judith Hamann, Sunn 0))), James Rushford, Stephen O'Malley and many more.

For 10 years together with Robbie Avenaim, Ambarchi was the co-organiser of the What Is Music? festival, Australia's premier annual showcase of local and international experimental music. Ambarchi now curates the Maximum Arousal series at The Toff In Town in Melbourne and has recently co-produced an Australian television series on experimental music called Subsonics. Ambarchi co-curated the sound program for the 2008 Yokohama Triennale. Ambarchi has released numerous recordings for international labels such as Touch, Southern Lord, Table Of The Elements and Tzadik.

Belgian drummer Eric Thielemans is one of the most idiosyncratic figures in Belgian music, someone who not only demonstrates that special musicians always seek out (and find) their own place, but above all that they always remain students of the art of questioning and listening. No musician better illustrates the difference between playing music and playing with music than percussionist Eric Thielemans. He gets to the heart of the matter with an at times extremely minimalist approach, but on the other hand he frequently relies on a range of objects beyond the regular drum kit: a drum placed on its side, a bicycle wheel with a bow, hands and the body.

First Ever LIVE Release! “Even 33 plus years later, it hasn’t lost any of its charm, intensity, or unvarnished power.” – American Songwriter “Vocalist/rhythm guitarist Dan Baird and lead man Rick Richards let the slippery riffs fly.” – Vintage Guitar Magazine “You can really hear the bar-band roots of this band listening to this show . . . There’s a real magic to the chemistry they all had as a group.” – Ultimate Classic Rock “. . . the live album sounds wonderful and captures their exciting show nicely.” – Goldmine “. . . offers fans a chance to travel back through time and experience a singular night of all-out rock and roll as only the Georgia Satellites could provide. The title of the album is absolutely accurate.” – Exclusive Magazine “. . . captures the the sweaty excitement and spontaneity . . . of that special night 33 years ago.” – The Music Universe In 1988, the Georgia Satellites rolled into Cleveland, Ohio for a blistering Monday night at local watering hole Peabody’s, formerly the punk haven Pirates Cove. With Open All Night giving the band a second album to draw on, their salty, wide-open Chuck Berry riff’n’roll was full swagger – whether drawing on their reprise of the Swinging Blue Jeans’ “Hippy Hippy Shake” from the Tom Cruise film “Cocktail,”Joe South’s swerving “Games People Play,” George Jones’ “White Lightnin’”or Jerry Lee Lewis’ all-out “Whole Lotta Shakin’.” Just as importantly, gap-toothed guitarist/lead singer Dan Baird and combustive lead guitarist Rick Richards set the pummeling groove of drummer Mauro Magellan and bassist Rick Price ablaze. Delivering an 18-song masterclass in roots, rock and raunch, the Satellites not only incinerated “Battleship Chains,” “Railroad Steel” and “Can’t Stand The Pain,” they led the beyond SRO crowd through a shout-along of “Keep Your Hands To Yourself” threaded with a brazen stripper grind on the Rolling Stones’ “It’s Only Rock & Roll.” Fans of reverb, thrashing drums, the rush of rock & roll momentum and all manners of electric guitars giving it over to basic 3 chord rock & roll, Lightin’ in a Bottle retires the jersey. As the southern equivalent of the Replacements, the Ramones hillbilly (redneck) little brothers, no band delivered as much balls as the Satellites, who’ve never had an official live record. For a band who leaves it all onstage, that seems wrong. Leave it to Cleveland International to unearth this blistering recording, wipe off the sweat and somehow figure out how to get it all in one double disc package captured in the Rock & Roll Capital of the World. -Holly Gleason

First Ever LIVE Release! “Even 33 plus years later, it hasn’t lost any of its charm, intensity, or unvarnished power.” – American Songwriter “Vocalist/rhythm guitarist Dan Baird and lead man Rick Richards let the slippery riffs fly.” – Vintage Guitar Magazine “You can really hear the bar-band roots of this band listening to this show . . . There’s a real magic to the chemistry they all had as a group.” – Ultimate Classic Rock “. . . the live album sounds wonderful and captures their exciting show nicely.” – Goldmine “. . . offers fans a chance to travel back through time and experience a singular night of all-out rock and roll as only the Georgia Satellites could provide. The title of the album is absolutely accurate.” – Exclusive Magazine “. . . captures the the sweaty excitement and spontaneity . . . of that special night 33 years ago.” – The Music Universe In 1988, the Georgia Satellites rolled into Cleveland, Ohio for a blistering Monday night at local watering hole Peabody’s, formerly the punk haven Pirates Cove. With Open All Night giving the band a second album to draw on, their salty, wide-open Chuck Berry riff’n’roll was full swagger – whether drawing on their reprise of the Swinging Blue Jeans’ “Hippy Hippy Shake” from the Tom Cruise film “Cocktail,”Joe South’s swerving “Games People Play,” George Jones’ “White Lightnin’”or Jerry Lee Lewis’ all-out “Whole Lotta Shakin’.” Just as importantly, gap-toothed guitarist/lead singer Dan Baird and combustive lead guitarist Rick Richards set the pummeling groove of drummer Mauro Magellan and bassist Rick Price ablaze. Delivering an 18-song masterclass in roots, rock and raunch, the Satellites not only incinerated “Battleship Chains,” “Railroad Steel” and “Can’t Stand The Pain,” they led the beyond SRO crowd through a shout-along of “Keep Your Hands To Yourself” threaded with a brazen stripper grind on the Rolling Stones’ “It’s Only Rock & Roll.” Fans of reverb, thrashing drums, the rush of rock & roll momentum and all manners of electric guitars giving it over to basic 3 chord rock & roll, Lightin’ in a Bottle retires the jersey. As the southern equivalent of the Replacements, the Ramones hillbilly (redneck) little brothers, no band delivered as much balls as the Satellites, who’ve never had an official live record. For a band who leaves it all onstage, that seems wrong. Leave it to Cleveland International to unearth this blistering recording, wipe off the sweat and somehow figure out how to get it all in one double disc package captured in the Rock & Roll Capital of the World. -Holly Gleason

The roots of Naima Bock’s music are far reaching. Born in
Glastonbury to a Brazilian father and a Greek mother, Naima spent
her early childhood in Brazil before eventually returning to England
and various homes in South East London. This heritage combines
with more recent pursuits in Naima’s music. From the Brazilian
standards that the family listened to while driving to the beach, to the
European folk traditions she tapped into on her own, and the pursuits
that interest her today - studies in archaeology, work as a gardener,
and walking the world’s great trails - Naima’s music draws from
family, the earth and music handed down through generations.
 Naima’s debut album, ‘Giant Palm’, is undoubtedly infused with the
Brazilian music of her youth and regular family visits. She found
inspiration in “the percussion, the melodies, chords - and particularly
the poetic juxtaposition of tragedy and beauty held within the lyrics.”
 By the age of 15, Naima was embedded in the music scene of SouthEast London, eventually forming Goat Girl with school friends and
touring the world. After six years playing bass in Goat Girl, Naima left
the band to try something new. She set up a gardening company and
started a degree at University College London in archaeology
because, as she jokes, “I liked being near the ground.” During this
time, she wrote music, played guitar, learned violin, worked with evershifting South-London collective Broadside Hacks, and met producer
and arranger Joel Burton through Memorials of Distinction labelhead
Josh Cohen. Joel’s burgeoning interest in Western classical music,
global folk music, and experience in large scale arrangement and
orchestration informed the collaborative process that eventually
culminated in ‘Giant Palm’.
 Recorded with the help of over 30 musicians (including Josh Cohen
on synth / electronics) by Dan Carey of Speedy Wunderground at his
studio space in Streatham, South-East London, and engineered by
Syd Kemp, the songs on ‘Giant Palm’ represent a snapshot of a
specific feeling, of brief moments in Naima’s life that make up a larger
whole.
 The expansive yet delicate arrangements highlight Naima’s love for
the collectivist values of traditional folk music, in which songs belong
to everyone, and singing can take on countless forms without the
need to exactly replicate something. “All the other representations
that I’d had of singing felt so unattainable,” she recalls. ‘Giant Palm’
finds Naima bucking these expectations to let her unique voice and
sense of communal creativity flourish.

In a pre-Rock world, no female vocal group came within touching distance of the
Andrews Sisters in terms of success. Between 1938 and 1951 they notched 90
Top 30 hits in the USA and appeared on countless other best-selling singles by
artists such as Bing Crosby, Dick Haymes, Danny Kaye, Ernest Tubb, Carmen
Miranda and Burl Ives. The Andrews Sisters were the most plagiarised of all
female singing groups and influenced many artists, including Mel Tormé, Les Paul
and Mary Ford, The Four Freshmen, The Pointer Sisters and Barry Manilow. It’s
time to celebrate the works of this wonderful trio and enjoy their incredible tones
and harmonies so grab yourself a Rum & Cola and get down with some Boogie
Woogie!

Beyond The Willow Tree is a hauntingly beautiful anthology of folk songs chronicling the experience of a young black man growing up in the segregated south. A balanced mix of covers and originals, Cleveland Francis’ body of work seamlessly blends deep, soulful vocals with the stripped-down acoustic instrumentation of folk. In the late 60’s Francis coined the term “soulfolk”, playing his genre bending music across college campuses and coffee shops while earning a medical degree at William & Mary.

These songs serve as a missing link between soul and folk music, suppressed by the harsh political landscape of a music industry heavily influenced by racial stereotypes. “If you were black, you played blues or soul music … I wanted to play folk music,” Cleveland professed.

Included in this double LP set is Cleveland Francis’ entire 1970 self-released album Follow Me, featuring the original artwork and liner notes printed inside the gatefold. The second LP takes you Beyond The Willow Tree with unreleased demos recorded in 1968 along with one 45 only single recorded in 1970.

“These recordings are a look into my soul through a long and lonely journey to understand feelings of my childhood, poverty, racial segregation, bigotry, war, love and hope. It represents my attempt to express and come to terms with all that I have seen and felt as a Black man growing up in America.” - Cleveland Francis