Suche:dr yes

José James just can’t leave the ’70s alone. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The singer, songwriter, bandleader, and producer was born in 1978, after all, but over his past 17 years of fundamentally forward-looking, blessedly mercurial music, he keeps getting pulled back in. His 2013 Blue Note breakthrough No Beginning No End revisited the hooky, funky, jazz-streaked songcraft of the time through a modern crate-digger’s ears. On 2020’s No Beginning No End 2 — James’ debut on his own Rainbow Blonde Records — he went back through the portal with a small army of fellow celebrated eclecticists. Just last year, there was the album 1978, a richly layered love letter to said year that felt deep, luxe, and cool. It’s as if — vested with the restless fluidity of jazz, the tuned-in sensitivity of soul, and the revisionist grit of hip-hop — he is trying to play his way into the exact moment when, culturally speaking, everything was about to change.

“I'm still so fascinated by the tension in that era of all these seemingly clashing things happening at once,” says James. “The loft scene, the jazz scene, Elton and Billy, Bob Marley, the Isleys, Funkadelic, disco being this behemoth in a way I don't think we even understand today… And then there’s where everybody went from there — into hip-hop, into punk rock, exploding jazz. It's like a summation of the ’70s, and it's about to transform. It's the peak of the rollercoaster.”

Literally breaking into history is impossible, of course, but James’ new LP, 1978: Revenge of the Dragon, does feel like breaking through or bursting out. In loving contrast to its predecessor, the fresh set plays hot, like a Friday night out at the Mudd Club in its prime. Though he’s dreamt up albums with collaborator counts approaching the dozens, James gathered a tight crew for this one. Himself and Taali on vocals. BIGYUKI on keys and analog synth. Jharis Yokley on drums. Bass split between David Ginyard (Blood Orange, Terence Blanchard) and Kyle Miles (Michelle Ndgeocello, Nick Hakim). And an all-star brass lineup: Takuya Kuroda on trumpet, young lion Ebban Dorsey on alto sax, and genre-spanning ronin Ben Wendel on tenor sax. They set up in Dreamland Studios near Woodstock, a restored 19th century church, and recorded live to tape, two tracks, drums pushed to the max — “a small homage to the rise of punk,” says James.

In that place out of time, the band laid down a handful of choice covers and some wild originals, like the single “They Sleep, We Grind (for Badu),” a decades-collapsing cut powered by an ugly groove. Steeped in dub, funk, and sampledelia, James chants an artists’ mantra (“They sleep, we grind / Man, f--- your nine to five”), makes lyrical callouts to Marley and Nas, and channels everything from George Clinton to J Dilla, not to mention the earthy mysticism of Erykah Badu. In 2023, James released and toured his Badu covers LP, On & On. “Living in her musical house for a year was transformative,” he says. “This is my summary of everything I learned through her, tying it to this idea that artists move differently. We are in society but we are outside, too, looking out and in at the same time. Our hours are different, our schedules are different.”

To that point, James and co. actually began each day in the woods, filming the album’s visual companion piece, Revenge of the Dragon, an honest-to-God kung-fu short complete with bad overdubs, training montages, camera tricks, and plot twists. The film pays tribute not only to the genre’s greatest year (1978, of course), but also its cinematic exchange with Blaxploitation, plus James’ own recent Shaolin training and admiration for Bruce Lee as a culture-bridging force (the LP’s cover recreates an iconic shot of Lee). On top of that, says James, “We had this immediacy in the studio. Live, one take, no overdubbing. I feel like that's where the martial arts piece comes in, where it's about being relaxed but also aware, and there's immediacy in your movements.”

Across the project, tribute takes that refracted, multifaceted form. From his personal late-’70s playlist, James chose four covers reflecting the era’s disco-fied churn: the MJ-meets-Quincy dancefloor masterpiece “Rock With You”; Herbie Hancock’s prescient vocoder fever dream, “I Thought It Was You”; and a pair of Black-radio hits from two bands whose fans typically wouldn’t have been caught dead in the same stadium: “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones and the Bee Gees’ “Inside and Out.” All of it gets filtered through a contemporary Black (and beyond) lens, coming out loud, free, funky, and buzzing — dynamic, yes, but also of a joyous piece.

1978: Revenge of the Dragon transports you to a crowded room where all this is playing out in real time. That feeling is helped out by opener “Tokyo Daydream,” a bass-driven swan dive into a neverending night of boutique bar-hopping and neon revelry. Later, “Rise of the Tiger” finds James bringing rare braggadocio to a propulsive track with growling synth lines and a hunger for whatever comes next. And then there’s the closer, “Last Call at the Mudd Club,” which with its upbeat energy and string of Stevie-inspired pickup lines, evokes the sort of unabashedly elated track the DJ throws on at 3:56 a.m. before everyone is kicked out. “I wanted to leave the album on that note,” says James. “If this was a night out in New York, this would be the last thing you hear before you get in that taxi and go back to your apartment.” Or, perhaps, back to 2025.

Morning Stone is Pacific nostalgia. Now based in Mohkintsis territory on the Eastern side of the Rocky Mountains, Benoit Guimond, under his moniker Angel Science, draws us into his early life in Vancouver. That coast is still home, and his conifer-covered memories have been shaped into the organic textures of this record. Waving filtrations, archival recordings, rewinding spins and ethereal pads signal a return to the stones, sand and organic beach drift of the Pacific Northwest. Environmental rhythm and free-flowing flourishes reveal a musician in the core of his memory, at the forefront of an ever-evolving sonic journey.

Guimond has rapidly become a standout figure in Canada’s underground dance scene, celebrated for his subtle grooves and esoteric soundscapes with releases on PHTM, Echolocations, PPRZ and more. While he’s often linked to techno, Morning Stone reveals a softer, slower side that pushes through any previously held genres he has been confined to. The euphoria of Madrugada, the deep and hypnotic energy that reverberates in tracks Cee Dub and Shale, alongside the ambient textures of Alborz, all come together to strike a specifically pacific balance between the blissful and the raw. It offers a refreshing growth and a hit of balearic beyond conventional techno, while retaining the depth and edge that encapsulate a signature style.

Elena Colombi approved material!
Tondiue “Yesssssss”

Auf Festivalbühnen waren Cari Cari 2017 und 2018 nicht mehr wegzudenken. Und doch stehen die beiden erst am Anfang. Das Album feiert diesen mit dem prototypischen Titel »Summer Sun« – und gibt damit die Schlagrichtung vor. »Anaana« versammelt die Unmenge an Eindrücken aus vielen Reisekilometern, Nächten und Abenteuern in einem glühend heißen Druckkochtopf; unterhaltsam, schnell und abwechslungsreich.

Eine gewisse Liebe zu den Welten von Ennio Morricone und Quentin Tarantino ist nicht von der Hand zu weisen – und damit auch der Hang des Duos, mutig entlang eines schmalen Grats zu tänzeln: Cari Cari vermengen zahlreiche Popkulturzitate und weltmusikalische Einflüsse mit einer Prise Ironie und viel Charme. So dürfen sich zwischen kessem 60s-Gitarrensound und tribal beats auch Maultrommeln und Didgeridoos tummeln, die SML auch auf der Bühne zur Begeisterung des Publikums immer wieder auspackt. Und so gelingt der Tanz dem Duo mit jener jugendlich-frischen Mühelosigkeit, die die beiden schon die genannten Bühnen im Sturm erobern ließ.

Stereogum: »Here’s a cool new musical project that feels both out-there and extremely mundane. In 2022, the great Colorado experimentalist M. Sage teamed up with Lieven Martens (Dolphins into the Future) under the name Sage Martens. Their album, »Riding Fences«, was an ambient classical exercise designed to explore the idea of ›Western‹ music. They’re back this year with another conceptual offering (...)«

»Chamber Music for Lawn Mowers« is the second album by Sage Martens. This time, Matthew Sage (RVNG, Fuubutsushi) and Lieven Martens (Edições CN, Dolphins into the Future) sing the lawn.

Did you know a clean-cut lawn is a desire we inherited from the British?

Yes, the British dumped this pleasure into our collective consciousness. Those humorless Victorians who enjoyed having their black pudding on the lawn. They came to this uninspired impression while mis-looking at Italian paintings. Yes indeed, while gazing at these paintings they mistook green lanes for green lawns. Thus it became hip. Every stuffed truffle commanded his gardener to cut the grass.

As a result, this Victorian lust for sterile gardens with pretty green lawns nudged our world into water spillage and pesticide clouds. This new priority produced exhaust clouds and prudish monocultural landscapes. Just by looking at Italian paintings.

As with most of Western history, the practice was exported to America and then turbocharged. By shearing clear the prolific brush of pastures, prairies, forests and glens, biodiversity becomes an aesthetic casualty with long-suffering ecological ripples. An inherited practice narrows the bandwidth of experience.

And so, the childhood habit of humming along in key to the drone of a gas-powered mower while trimming a suburban lawn extrapolates into something expanded — an unanswered question about the harmonics of landscape practices.

M. Sage: Bb clarinet, alto saxophone, sine wave, lawn mowing, processing L. Martens: computer, analog synthesis, digital processing With W. Van Gils: lawn mowing

Australia's left-field club renaissance keeps flowering, and Horatio Luna's cult 2020 debut Yes Doctor remains an essential root document. The LP welds dub-soaked bass pressure, broken-beat jack and smoky nu-jazz improv onto a house chassis—picture Moodymann deep cuts drifting through Dadawah's spiritual haze. Championed by Gilles Peterson after Luna appeared on Brownswood's Sunny Side Up compilation—where drummer Phil Stroud and synth maestro Dufresne also featured—the record was pieced together across 2019 during a run of late-night sessions while Hicks was living in the La Sape house. La Sape's brand-new 2025 pressing (cat. SAPE00825) uses freshly cut plates and presents the full ten-track programme on 140 g black vinyl. The package features subtle touch-ups to the jacket artwork and refreshed centre-label stickers while preserving the original aesthetic. "Yes Doctor is my coming-of-age—mixing every style I could think of into house, pushing aesthetic boundaries, making 'un-boxable' music," Luna says. File next to Theo Parrish and Yesterday's New Quintet: DJs will lock onto the title track's seven-minute bruk workout, while deeplistening customers will cherish the front-to-back journey in groove alchemy.

"Music was his passion. His life, his love_ his all." Book-ended by the two parts that make up the album's centrepiece, "Opus Imperfectus", Maestro is Magic Pie's long-awaited 6th studio album, years in the making... "Maestro! Where did you go? People ask and I need to know." Does life imitate art, or is it the other way around? Magic Pie is a Norwegian progressive rock band formed in 2001, known for their intricate compositions, symphonic arrangements, and blend of vintage and modern influences. Highly regarded in the international prog community, Magic Pie's music explores themes of introspection, existentialism, and human emotion. Drawing inspiration from bands like Dream Theater, Genesis, Pink Floyd, Kansas, Deep Purple, Yes and many more - their music incorporates complex time signatures, lush keyboards, and dynamic guitar work, mixing elements of symphonic rock, jazz, and even folk. Fronted by the charismatic Icelandic singer and lyricist Eirikur Hauksson and "maestro-mind" & composer Kim Stenberg, Magic Pie continues to strive for higher & bigger musical conquests. "Follow your vision, fulfill your dream".

Originally released on Ben Chasny's own Pavilion imprint in 2011.

"I was invited by the Incubate Festival and the city of Tilburg to participate in an artist residency where I would explore the region’s unique chapels built for the Virgin Mary. After writing the music for about six months by drawing on memories of the encounters with the chapels and using techniques inspired by Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics Of Reverie, I flew back to Tilburg to perform the music at the Incubate Festival. We recorded the evening and I released the result on my Pavilion label. Each cover was hand painted white on white in the old Pavilion style. I created a stencil and used graphite powder to make the design that is inspired by the sun imagery in Athanasius Kircher diagrams."

Roadside chapels express the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant, a Dutch province, bordering on Belgium. Roman Catholicism has been the dominant religion in this southern part of the Netherlands since the eighth century. For about a century and a half this religion was strongly suppressed. Only when the French revolutionaries preached freedom of belief around 1800 could the people of North Brabant exercise their faith again. This was the start of a very strong emancipatory development from which a special form of the Roman Catholic faith arose that fully determined everyday life of the people here. This faith was the determining factor in life and the measure of all things. After the second Vatican Council (1962-1965) the reins of the catholic faith in Brabant were loosened as well. This was the start of a revolutionary process of secularisation. Within a decade hardly anything was left of the almighty influence of the Roman Catholic Church and this situation has lasted up to the present day.

In spite of the almightiness of the official, Vatican ruled, Roman Catholic faith, North Brabant has always and perhaps notoriously fostered an undercurrent of popular belief as well. This is a kind of belief in which elements of the official faith and age-old pre-Christian traditions are combined. Worshipping relics, holding pilgrimages and processions, the use of water from holy wells, popular art, recitations and songs, festivals, rituals, folk traditions, superstition and the like are all examples of popular devotion. These matters have strongly influenced and formed the identity of the present-day population of North Brabant. It is part of their immaterial heritage.

An obvious and still very much visible form of popular devotion are the roadside chapels. In Brabant some 400 can be found, most of which have been devoted to Mary. Chapels are small buildings in which Mary or other saints are worshipped. They can be found within villages or towns or in natural surroundings. Always at the finest spots! The beauty of the environment adds a primary religious or mystical feeling to the visitor. Local people attach great value to their chapels. In spite of the overall secularisation in society they are still at the centre of cultural and social life. Where people in North Brabant can hardly be found in the churches nowadays, this doesn’t mean at all they are no longer religious. On the contrary, religious feelings are perhaps stronger than ever, but now people have to find their own expression of them. That’s why they fall back on the age-old popular belief in which chapels play an important role. We can even witness new forms of popular belief with chapels as their focal point. An example of this is the scattering of ashes of people who have been cremated. Chapels clearly also play a role in the lives of young people. On an average five new chapels are added every year.

I have studied the popular culture and belief and the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant for over thirty years. I have published over forty books on these subjects. In 2010 I was approached by the organisation of the Incubate Festival in the North Brabant town of Tilburg. Their request was for me to lead the American composer and guitarist Ben Chasny around a number of chapels in the province devoted to Mary. He had been invited to North Brabant to write some new compositions. Ben Chasny then chose to be inspired by these chapels and that’s how we met. I was especially curious how an American would react to something as specific and small as a roadside chapel in North Brabant, since we tend to think here of (people in) America in terms of ‘big-bigger-biggest’. Would an inhabitant of this enormous country with this prevailing culture be able to grasp and respect the identity of some 2.5 million people in North Brabant with their chapels? The answer to this question lies hidden in the compositions he made and that can be listened to on this album. Yes, Ben Chasny has been able to convert the phenomenon of a simple chapel devoted to Mary into music. The physical and the spiritual have found each other. What a beautiful world…just listen! - Paul Spapens

The Scream, Siouxsie & the Banshees' first album, was released late enough in the punk era to bear some claim as the first post-punk album, with only a minor traces of 'punk' (one lingering early song, "Carcass" comes to mind) and enough hints of what had come even earlier, Andy MacKay-like saxophone flourishes - to feel utterly new. Not to mention the effort producer Steve Lillywhite must have put into the album, his first fully-credited major label production.
Siouxsie was clearly the focus of the band, with her unique vocal style and lyrics, but the real star, we've always known, was John McKay, who wrote most of the album's music (as well as singles like "Hong Kong Garden"), creating a wholly new guitar sound - harsh and brittle, yet melodically intoxicating . . . best articulated by a somewhat confounded Steve Albini years later ". . . only now people are trying to copy it, and even now nobody understands how that guitar player got all that pointless noise to stick together as songs". McKay's influence lives on; many of the most influential guitarists of the past four decades credit him as a major influence - Geordie from Killing Joke, Jim Reid of The Jesus And Mary Chain, U2's The Edge, Thurston Moore, Johnny Marr and even the two guitarists - The Cure's Robert Smith and Magazine's John McGeoch - who followed him in The Banshees.
McKay's burgeoning status as the anti-guitar hero was halted when he and Banshees drummer Kenny Morris - at odds with Siouxsie and bassist Steve Severin - fled the band just after the start of a tour supporting the group's second album, Join Hands. It was a weekly music paper scandal, later the subject of a BBC documentary, and Siouxsie's vitriol working its way into the lyrics of a later Banshees b-side, "Drop Dead / Celebration". Aside from a solitary single on Marc Riley's In Tape label nearly a decade later, no music was heard from McKay again. So it comes as a major surprise to learn of a pile of excellent recordings made in the years just after he left The Banshees, unheard by all but a very few, some of which feature drummer Kenny Morris, plus Mick Allen from Rema Rema, Matthew Seligman of the Soft Boys and longer-term collaborator Graham Dowdall and John's wife Linda . . . the latter three of whom now all sadly deceased.
Sixes And Sevens is an historic lost album. Brazenly genius and bearing fair claim as the lost treasure of the post-punk era, the album collects eleven studio tracks, carefully mastered from original tapes. It's a masterpiece which best speaks for itself. John McKay will be made available for a limited number of interviews . . . and yes, there are surprises in store.

Sextile, das in Los Angeles beheimatete Duo, das für seinen unbeugsamen, elektronischen Punk-Sound gefeiert wird, hat Details zu ihrem kommenden, starken Album „Yes, please.“ bekannt gegeben, das am 2. Mai 2025 auf Sacred Bones erscheint, sowie Pläne für eine umfangreiche Europatournee in diesem Sommer geteilt. Sextile, die sich derzeit mit ihren Labelkollegen Molchat Doma auf einer großen US-Tournee befinden, kündigen ihr neues Album mit der Single „Freak Eyes“ an, die ihren dunklen, pulsierenden Sound in neue Höhen treibt. Der Song beginnt mit einem fiesen Bass-Growl, das abrupt in einen Techno-Beat übergeht, der mit klirrender Kuhglocke und scharfer Hi-Hat gespickt ist. „I feel the pressure / Man the pressure I feel when we're together“, singt Sänger Brady Keehn kühl, aber bestimmt, in den ersten Zeilen. Inspiriert von der Art und Weise, wie Druck sowohl Herausforderungen als auch Verbesserungen hervorrufen kann, beschwört „Freak Eyes“ elektrisierende Bilder von schäbigen Hinterzimmern auf dem Sunset Strip und von in Leder gekleideten Tanzflächen in Lagerhäusern herauf.

Manche Bands finden ihren Groove und bleiben dabei, andere erfinden sich ständig neu. Sextile gehört zu den letzteren, die den Nervenkitzel einer sich ständig verändernden Landkarte genießen. Das Duo Melissa Scaduto und Brady Keehn aus Los Angeles macht Musik mit Lebenslust und lässt sich dabei von No Wave bis Hardstyle inspirieren. Ihr neuestes Album „yes, please.“ stößt in kühnes Neuland vor, indem es anarchisches Elektro-Feuer mit rohen persönlichen Erinnerungen verbindet - und mit genug aufgemotzten Bässen, um ein oder zwei Boxen zum Platzen zu bringen. „yes, please.“ ist ein Album der Kontraste: eine verletzliche Platte, die ihre Seele ebenso entblößt wie sie im Exzess schwelgt und zeigt, wie weit man seinen Sound treiben kann, wenn man seine Hemmungen abschüttelt. Zusammen verraten die beiden ein Selbstvertrauen, das niemals schwankt, und machen einen kühnen Spritzer auf dem schnellen Intro mit einer Rave-Sirene, die aus einer New Yorker Hausparty der `00er oder einem verschwitzten Brooklyn-Lagerhaus stammt. Auch der Geist des Electroclash pirscht sich an das Gebäude heran, zeigt seine Identität bei den mit Kuhglocken gespickten Donnerschlägen von „Freak Eyes“ und „Rearrange“ und sorgt mit „Women Respond to Bass“ für eine schmutzige Dancefloor-Bombe. „Push Ups“ - mit dem Gesang von Jehnny Beth - ist pure Muskelmusik, gestärkt durch einen wummernden Bass und ergänzt durch Synthies, die so hart hämmern wie Hagelkörner auf einem Glasdach. Aber hinter den Slogans, der Frechheit und der monstermäßigen Tanzenergie verbirgt sich eine Intimität, die man nur finden kann, wenn man sich über schmerzhafte, lebensverändernde Ereignisse öffnet. „Hospital“ und ‚Soggy Newports‘ reflektieren Scadutos erschütternde Erfahrungen in einer staatlichen Einrichtung in New York nach einem beinahe tödlichen Unfall. „Resist“ befasst sich mit Abtreibungsrechten, während ‚Penny Rose‘ das amerikanische Bildungswesen, künstliche Intelligenz und zukünftige Generationen thematisiert. Scadutos elastischer Gesang glänzt überall, von den messerscharfen Synthesizern von „S is For“ bis zu den Trance-Pop-Höhen von „Kids“ mit Izzy Glaudini von Automatic. „yes, please.“ ist eine actiongeladene Dance-Platte, vollgestopft mit wilden, berauschenden Gassenhauern, aber im gleichen Atemzug auch ein Zeugnis dafür, zu leben und niemals zurückzuschauen. Indem sie sich für eine neue, „befreiende“ Art des Musikmachens öffnen, haben Sextile ihr bisher kreativstes Werk geschaffen. Bisher, denn man spürt einfach, dass sie noch so viel mehr zu geben haben.

Sextile, das in Los Angeles beheimatete Duo, das für seinen unbeugsamen, elektronischen Punk-Sound gefeiert wird, hat Details zu ihrem kommenden, starken Album „Yes, please.“ bekannt gegeben, das am 2. Mai 2025 auf Sacred Bones erscheint, sowie Pläne für eine umfangreiche Europatournee in diesem Sommer geteilt. Sextile, die sich derzeit mit ihren Labelkollegen Molchat Doma auf einer großen US-Tournee befinden, kündigen ihr neues Album mit der Single „Freak Eyes“ an, die ihren dunklen, pulsierenden Sound in neue Höhen treibt. Der Song beginnt mit einem fiesen Bass-Growl, das abrupt in einen Techno-Beat übergeht, der mit klirrender Kuhglocke und scharfer Hi-Hat gespickt ist. „I feel the pressure / Man the pressure I feel when we're together“, singt Sänger Brady Keehn kühl, aber bestimmt, in den ersten Zeilen. Inspiriert von der Art und Weise, wie Druck sowohl Herausforderungen als auch Verbesserungen hervorrufen kann, beschwört „Freak Eyes“ elektrisierende Bilder von schäbigen Hinterzimmern auf dem Sunset Strip und von in Leder gekleideten Tanzflächen in Lagerhäusern herauf.

Manche Bands finden ihren Groove und bleiben dabei, andere erfinden sich ständig neu. Sextile gehört zu den letzteren, die den Nervenkitzel einer sich ständig verändernden Landkarte genießen. Das Duo Melissa Scaduto und Brady Keehn aus Los Angeles macht Musik mit Lebenslust und lässt sich dabei von No Wave bis Hardstyle inspirieren. Ihr neuestes Album „yes, please.“ stößt in kühnes Neuland vor, indem es anarchisches Elektro-Feuer mit rohen persönlichen Erinnerungen verbindet - und mit genug aufgemotzten Bässen, um ein oder zwei Boxen zum Platzen zu bringen. „yes, please.“ ist ein Album der Kontraste: eine verletzliche Platte, die ihre Seele ebenso entblößt wie sie im Exzess schwelgt und zeigt, wie weit man seinen Sound treiben kann, wenn man seine Hemmungen abschüttelt. Zusammen verraten die beiden ein Selbstvertrauen, das niemals schwankt, und machen einen kühnen Spritzer auf dem schnellen Intro mit einer Rave-Sirene, die aus einer New Yorker Hausparty der `00er oder einem verschwitzten Brooklyn-Lagerhaus stammt. Auch der Geist des Electroclash pirscht sich an das Gebäude heran, zeigt seine Identität bei den mit Kuhglocken gespickten Donnerschlägen von „Freak Eyes“ und „Rearrange“ und sorgt mit „Women Respond to Bass“ für eine schmutzige Dancefloor-Bombe. „Push Ups“ - mit dem Gesang von Jehnny Beth - ist pure Muskelmusik, gestärkt durch einen wummernden Bass und ergänzt durch Synthies, die so hart hämmern wie Hagelkörner auf einem Glasdach. Aber hinter den Slogans, der Frechheit und der monstermäßigen Tanzenergie verbirgt sich eine Intimität, die man nur finden kann, wenn man sich über schmerzhafte, lebensverändernde Ereignisse öffnet. „Hospital“ und ‚Soggy Newports‘ reflektieren Scadutos erschütternde Erfahrungen in einer staatlichen Einrichtung in New York nach einem beinahe tödlichen Unfall. „Resist“ befasst sich mit Abtreibungsrechten, während ‚Penny Rose‘ das amerikanische Bildungswesen, künstliche Intelligenz und zukünftige Generationen thematisiert. Scadutos elastischer Gesang glänzt überall, von den messerscharfen Synthesizern von „S is For“ bis zu den Trance-Pop-Höhen von „Kids“ mit Izzy Glaudini von Automatic. „yes, please.“ ist eine actiongeladene Dance-Platte, vollgestopft mit wilden, berauschenden Gassenhauern, aber im gleichen Atemzug auch ein Zeugnis dafür, zu leben und niemals zurückzuschauen. Indem sie sich für eine neue, „befreiende“ Art des Musikmachens öffnen, haben Sextile ihr bisher kreativstes Werk geschaffen. Bisher, denn man spürt einfach, dass sie noch so viel mehr zu geben haben.

The iconic Hôtel Costes music collection, a veritable benchmark of Parisian luxury and refinement, continues to captivate lovers of sophisticated sounds. Famous for its unique blends of warm vocals, funk, jazzy and pop grooves, fusing electronic sounds and acoustic instruments, this series is a must for connoisseurs of refined music.



This eighth volume, orchestrated by the talented Stéphane Pompougnac, offers light electro soul and racy house, perfect for livening up the most elegant evenings and keeping the most reluctant dancing until the wee hours. The Hôtel Costes series has revealed exceptional talents such as Pink Martini, Flight Facilities, General Elektriks, Angus & Julia Stone and Brigitte, while mixing hidden nuggets with masters such as Gotan Project, Femi Kuti, Trentemøller, Thievery Corporation, Shirley Bassey and Grace Jones.



With over 5 million copies sold worldwide, following the resounding success of the reissue of the first six volumes, this eighth opus is finally available for the first time on vinyl. A true gem that will delight long-time fans and appeal to a new generation of listeners worldwide.

A stellar collaboration between composer Michael Cashmore (Current 93) and vocalist Marc Almond of Soft Cell fame. Two complementary creative sensibilities in intimate interlock; supreme compositional and vocal talents fusing to make uniquely dramatic musical and vocal interpretations of searing beauty and insight. Specifically, this suite of songs feature the heightened lyricism of a stunning array of cult poets, both contemporary and of yesteryear. 'Feasting With Panthers' is a stellar collaboration between composer Michael Cashmore (Current 93) and vocalist Marc Almond of Soft Cell fame, in the nearest thematic echo and nod, in the latter's vast back catalogue, to the darker gothic influences of his celebrated Marc And The Mambas period and his acclaimed 'L'Absinthe' and 'Jacques' twisted chanson solo albums. This album's defining aesthetic is the setting of outsider poems to music. Poems by Count Eric Stenbock plus unique lyrical translations - by celebrated poet Jeremy Reed - of works by Jean Genet, Jean Cocteau, Arthur Rimbaud, Paul Verlaine, as well as Reed's own poetry. The emphasis throughout is on 'decadent' poems of thwarted love, ill-fated romance, self-destruction and death: many poems are woven with homo-eroticism, laced with opium dreamstates and all are accompanied by Michael Cashmore's haunting and melancholic music that lends the verses a deft yearning for beauty and a bittersweet, melancholic longing for lost innocence and youth. Originally released in 2011 and long since deleted, 'Feasting With Panthers' is now restored to back catalogue availability as a double vinyl album - it's first ever vinyl edition - with a variant of the original album artwork and two printed, full colour inner sleeves complete with lyrics and pictures and featuring four bonus tracks. The album was recorded over several years by the artists sending music files back and forth by e-mail and post; the artists never once recording together in the studio. Berlin based Michael Cashmore worked at home composing the music, playing all of the instruments and adding Marc's vocals from files recorded in London. The resulting album is a glorious union of sensual talents, both in voice and music, complementing the intriguing and evocative poetic texts. The project began after Current 93's David Tibet gave Marc a book of poems by the Baltic German poet Count Stanislaus Eric Stenbock. Marc was instantly attracted to the dark eroticism and the melancholic yearning of the verse and, so, contacted Michael Cashmore, whom he had previously worked with on Current 93's reading of 'Idumea'. He felt Michael would have the right understanding of the verse with his intricate, beautiful musical compositions. From this, the project developed to include many of Marc's favourite poems by some of his favourite 'outsider' poets with common thematic ground.

Virginia Beach's Turnover has never been a band afraid of telling the truth. The emotional honesty poured out over a number of anthemic releases has been a proven formula of success for the band, but on their sophomore LP Peripheral Vision, the band treads into deeper water. Working again with Magnolia producer Will Yip (Title Fight, Circa Survive), Turnover's latest record shows a band maturing to create their best effort: an ethereal, reverb-drenched soundscape blending elements of hazy dream pop and the delicate emo rock of yesteryear. Songs like "Hello Euphoria" and "Like Slow Disappearing" highlight the new calmer, more subdued approach to songwriting, matched by Austin Getz's somber, confessional lyrics that echo throughout songs as if his words were haunting every measure. Peripheral Vision solidifies the idea that Turnover is a band with its finger on the pulse of its generation: growing and learning with every release, but never failing to provide a relatable, cathartic experience for anyone listening.

This landmark compilation has introduced generations of fans to the incredible history of the most storied band in music. For its 50th anniversary, the collection has been expanded with 12 additional tracks, including for the first time some of George Harrison’s earliest songs and some classic Beatles versions of R&B and rock ‘n’ roll hits that were so influential on the band.

The 3LP collection now contains 38 tracks, 30 of which have new mixes for 2023. The set’s 12 newly added tracks are collected on its 3rd LP. An insert contains new sleeve notes by journalist and author John Harris. For current fans and future generations alike, the new 1962 – 1966 collection is a joyous celebration of The Beatles’ timeless musical legacy.

Electro Drill breakbeat, smiling electro experimental music.

Wenn sie nicht gerade aus dem Fenster auf die stürmische Skyline von Manhattan blickte, verbrachte Margo Guryan ihre dreißiger Jahre damit, Ohrwürmer für Leute wie Bobbie Gentry, Jackie DeShannon, Claudine Longet, Carmen McCrae und Julie London bei CBS's April Blackwood Music zu schreiben. Guryans zeitlose Gedanken über Liebe, Sonntage, Erdbeben, Weinen und Jungs namens Timothy haben unzählige Filme und virale Videos unterlegt. Meisterwerke aus früheren Zeiten. 28 ihrer Songwriting-Demos aus den 60er und 70er Jahren sind auf dieser 25-jährigen Jubiläums-Doppelalbum-Edition.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Die zweifache Grammy-Gewinnerin und mehrfach mit Platin ausgezeichnete Ariana Grande veröffentlicht ihr siebtes Studio-Album ”eternal sunshine”, welches das erste musikalische Werk der Künstlerin seit drei Jahren markiert. Ihre letzten fünf Studio-Alben platzierte die talentierte Künstlerin in den Top 10 der deutsche Charts. Die vorab veröffentlichte Leadsingle ”yes, and?” debütierte auf Platz 1 der Spotify Global Charts und verzeichnete damit ihr bisher größtes Spotify-Streaming-Debüt. Das Musikvideo zu ”yes, and?” erreichte Platz 1 der YouTube Music Trend-Charts

That’s the Price of Loving Me marks Dean Wareham’s (Galaxie 500, Luna, Dean & Britta, ) evocative return, rekindling his partnership with producer Kramer for the first time since Galaxie 500's This Is Our Music in 1990.

Recorded in six days in Los Angeles, the album is steeped in lush, haunting soundscapes, driven by Wareham's signature reverb-soaked guitars and melancholic, dreamlike vocals. Britta Phillips joins on bass and harmonies, while Gabe Noel’s cello adds depth and tension. “Two takes yield more treasure than twenty,” notes longtime friend Matt Fishbeck, as Kramer's insistence on spontaneity infuses the project with raw immediacy.

Thematically, Wareham delves into the poetry of memory, set against a backdrop of wistful nostalgia and existential reflection. "Songs are in dialogue with other songs" Fishbeck writes. The lead single, “We’re Not Finished Yet,” is a playful, introspective meditation where Wareham drops his own name while relishing the tactile joy of the guitar. “You Were the Ones I Had to Betray” unfolds like a somber narrative, underpinned by Noel’s cello and crowned with a haunting bass harmonica by Kramer, encapsulating the emotional ambivalence of friendship and loyalty.

“That’s the Price of Loving Me” pulses with conga rhythms and Kramer’s vintage Moog, capturing Wareham’s musings on the life of a performer and the sacrifices it demands. Fishbeck describes “The Mystery Guest” as "an acrostic poem" and concludes by saying "We're not finished yet." 'Loving Me' also includes two covers, Mayo Thompson's 'Dear Betty Baby' and Nico's 'Reich der Träume.' The latter highlights his love for blending history and homage, sung entirely in German for a chillingly authentic touch.

Dean returns with his fourth solo album and his first album for Carpark Records. Inspired by the past yet resonant in its present-day relevance, the album’s sonic palette is reminiscent of Galaxie 500’s dream-pop roots, tempered with the matured introspection of Wareham’s later works. “Dean traffics in memory,” writes Fishbeck, reflecting on the record’s seamless blend of intimate recollections and catchy hooks. The result is a cohesive work encapsulating the duality of Wareham’s career: haunted by the past, yet steadfastly pushing forward. As Fishbeck poignantly puts it, “Imagination is nothing but the working over of what is remembered.”

That’s the Price of Loving Me marks Dean Wareham’s (Galaxie 500, Luna, Dean & Britta, ) evocative return, rekindling his partnership with producer Kramer for the first time since Galaxie 500's This Is Our Music in 1990.

Recorded in six days in Los Angeles, the album is steeped in lush, haunting soundscapes, driven by Wareham's signature reverb-soaked guitars and melancholic, dreamlike vocals. Britta Phillips joins on bass and harmonies, while Gabe Noel’s cello adds depth and tension. “Two takes yield more treasure than twenty,” notes longtime friend Matt Fishbeck, as Kramer's insistence on spontaneity infuses the project with raw immediacy.

Thematically, Wareham delves into the poetry of memory, set against a backdrop of wistful nostalgia and existential reflection. "Songs are in dialogue with other songs" Fishbeck writes. The lead single, “We’re Not Finished Yet,” is a playful, introspective meditation where Wareham drops his own name while relishing the tactile joy of the guitar. “You Were the Ones I Had to Betray” unfolds like a somber narrative, underpinned by Noel’s cello and crowned with a haunting bass harmonica by Kramer, encapsulating the emotional ambivalence of friendship and loyalty.

“That’s the Price of Loving Me” pulses with conga rhythms and Kramer’s vintage Moog, capturing Wareham’s musings on the life of a performer and the sacrifices it demands. Fishbeck describes “The Mystery Guest” as "an acrostic poem" and concludes by saying "We're not finished yet." 'Loving Me' also includes two covers, Mayo Thompson's 'Dear Betty Baby' and Nico's 'Reich der Träume.' The latter highlights his love for blending history and homage, sung entirely in German for a chillingly authentic touch.

Dean returns with his fourth solo album and his first album for Carpark Records. Inspired by the past yet resonant in its present-day relevance, the album’s sonic palette is reminiscent of Galaxie 500’s dream-pop roots, tempered with the matured introspection of Wareham’s later works. “Dean traffics in memory,” writes Fishbeck, reflecting on the record’s seamless blend of intimate recollections and catchy hooks. The result is a cohesive work encapsulating the duality of Wareham’s career: haunted by the past, yet steadfastly pushing forward. As Fishbeck poignantly puts it, “Imagination is nothing but the working over of what is remembered.”