Fast At Work touches down with its fifth flight, and it’s come a long way. Hailing from Kyoto, Japan, Stones Taro delivers three original productions that move through dubstep, breakbeat and the restless spaces in between — a record that carries the weight and precision you’d expect from one of the most in-demand producers to emerge from Japan’s underground in recent years.
The Fuga compilation returns to Token with its seventh installment by a fresh batch of artists emphasizing the cryptic sound of the Belgian record label. The V/A displays urgency as its focal point, expanding and contracting its acoustic space throughout to channel instability. With eight contributions, Fuga VII sifts through nail biting arpeggios, frenzied percussion, and obscure ambiance to recalibrate techno's current soundscape.
Opening the compilation is contemporary techno mainstay Rene Wise with his debut contribution to the record label 'Rough Rider'. In this A1, Wise plays to his strengths by blending deep techno influences with hyper-focused rhythmic work. With a hint of tribalism, he conjures up synthwork from far off to whip motion into heavy drum patterns. Following this first track, STIPP and Sandrien take control in presenting 'Corrie', a sequence-forward groover that slides through drum programing to streamline rhythm. A shrill pad comes in at the halfway mark, completely lifting the energy of 'Corrie' to strain the track's obscurity with an ethereal counterweight. The brief passage of these kinds of elements provides a lot of dynamic to what would otherwise be a powerfully straightforward piece. Diving deeper, Red Rooms unveils 'Limited Sensory' as the next chapter of the compilation. Always swift and exact, the German artist continues to push into the ultra immersive with a web of elements that whiz by for a peaktime lock in. Cold in attitude, Red Rooms tunnels through 'Limited Sensory' with quick drumsand far-off percussive hits that rumble through the track. Stepping up afterwards is Lindsey Herbert with 'Oscillations in Space' - an appropriately named recording that experiments with mania as a tool for the dancefloor. Fast and spiraling, Herbert keeps her hands on the arpeggio's filter to contain tension through thunderous reverb transitions, balancing panic with pace. AgainstMe then stretches out the followup with the commanding 'Phase Shift' to double down on weight. Textural intimidation and stomping percussion is given the space it needs to perform on heavy weight sound systems, making it an austere middle point for Fuga. MAL HOMBRE then guides the listener to more elastic sound design in 'Critical Velocity', in a most appropriate Token fashion. Snowballing in intensity halfway through, MAL HOMBRE pushes the cutoff of his melody and programs snare rolls for vintage craze through the second section. Bells clash with ringing hats to fly the track along its course without looking back or letting go. Conor Wall takes control with 'The Strategy' that focuses on pace rather than melody, weaponizing metallic texture for a deep dancefloor experience. The ambiance does a lot of story telling here, marking breaks and riding through drops to provide grit to an already substantial record. This leads us to the final contribution in Fuga VII - 'Ad Libitum'. Here, Porteix emphasizes the conclusion of the compilation with mystery. The synths slither around pulsating rhythm, creating uninterrupted motion throughout the track's entirety. Porteix draws the curtains on an inquisitive note, keeping the suspense high until the next Fuga compilation comes around.
Let's see now – you just love that hugely fertile foundation period of Jamaican pop music from the birth of ska, through the spectacularly brief two year heyday of rocksteady up to and including the arrival of the first incarnation of reggae a.k.a. early or 'boss' reggae. But you're also aware that the pioneers of these sounds (including The Pioneers!) won't be creating music in these styles or touring forever – so what do you do?
Well, if you're Neil Anderson, owner of Original Gravity Records, the creation bit isn't a problem. You put forth period-authentic style material from a 'roster' of acts – such as Junior Dell & The D-Lites - that in reality consist mostly of yourself (you are a multi-instrumentalist and lyricist after all!) and whichever extra musicians and session singer you rope in for a given track. In the case of Junior Dell & The D-Lites that singer was Adrian Dell – soon to be dubbed (no pun intended) 'Junior' - first appearing on 2021's uptempo ska tribute to Salvadoran retro-dancing internet sensation Aranivah, entitled Miss Aranivah. And you keep putting out stuff so profusely and effectively that there are clamours for you to tour 'the band' which - er - doesn't really exist. What a botheration! Still, maybe your session singer could become – well - a permanent singer? Maybe you can rustle up assorted bredren to become the rest of the band and...you know what? That might just work!
And so, in the blink of an eye, Junior Dell & The D-Lites becomes a bona fide actual live band fronted by a young Jamaican singer playing fresh 60s/70s-style Jamaican music with an energy last seen and heard in, well, the 1960s and 70s. And it tours so effectively that there are clamours for 'the band' – or more accurately, now – the band - to release an album. Wait...what now? And, by the way, you've got a European tour coming up in April wouldn't it be great if the album was ready to tour by then? Pressure drop? Pressure rise more like!
Then again, Junior Dell & The D-Lites have done so many sure-shot singles to date that assembling them along with a new cut, an extended version of one of the singles and re-recordings of two of the label's previous singles that were originally by 'label mates' The Regulators should be a cinch. So expect all the hits: bluebeat banger 20 Flight Ska, the euphoric ska bounce of the aforementioned Miss Aranivah and the title track, a de rigueur smattering of covers (opener Jump Around, midway markers Praise You and Just Can't Get Enough, and one of the re-recordings, closer Don't Look Back In Anger), early reggae groovers Cool Right Down, Last Night Reggay, Can't Stop The Reggae (in a new extended form) and crowd-pleasing new one Mi Try along with the other Junior Dell re-recording - the gorgeous Why Why Why which nods to the period of reggae between the sound of '69 and the arrival of roots.
Don't you brag and don't you boast but that's a Whole Lotta Skankin' going on! Do the ska, do the rocksteady, do the reggay, why– it's another scorcher!
Multi Culti seasonal balance returns with Equinox III Kicking things off Guadalajara-based Bofo Dab (known for their blog 'Drops a Banger') does what their name suggests. This one has been getting caned by the Keinemusik crew, legions of phone-holders' shazam-prayers will only now be answered. It's a restrained big-room horn-loaded banger. Mehmet Aslan slides in to the proceedings with an awesome FM-sounding heads-down slice of clubby introspection. Long-time cult-hero Gilb'R of Versatile records fame spaces out the side with a deep, sparkly, live synth jam. On the flip, Mytron brings a fun stripped-back cover of a stone-cold classic with Higher (state of consciousness, that is). Brazillian hotboy Niev sounds right at home on the label with the aptly titled 'Professor Banjo.' Yuki Miyauchi lends an ethereal 90s bleep-inflected chunk of vibe with 'Donkey Conga.' Finally, fellow Japanese but London-based DJ Himitsu drops the deep, rollicking 'Waterfall.'
UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.
Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.
Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.
It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.
The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.
The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.
In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”
It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”
The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.
Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.
So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.
They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.
Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.
But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.
So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!
There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.
MEMORIALS jump off the waterslides and head above the clouds with their stunning second album proper, 'All Clouds Bring Not Rain'. The duo of Verity Susman and Matthew Simms (formerly of Electrelane and WIRE) locked themselves away in a studio in a barn secluded deep in the woods in southwestern France and re-emerged with a beautiful, unusual record that is both melodic and unconventional. For such an ambitious album it's striking that it was written, performed, recorded and mixed solely by the two of them. Sounding like an unearthed classic, MEMORIALS twist their influences into their own unmistakable sound. Imagine Nico singing with Can produced by David Axelrod and you're somewhere in the right ballpark. The record draws inspiration from a wide range of music including folk, dub, post punk, experimental tape music, 60s soul, garage rock, 70s spiritual jazz and Canterbury prog. Verity's distinctive, unadorned singing is a focal point of the record, moving from tender to wild. Her vocal melodies quickly become earworms, providing the tuneful heart around which the songs' more unorthodox elements are arranged, which is where Matthew's unconventional approach to recording and production comes to the fore. With their adventurous arrangements, classic songwriting skills and innovative production techniques, MEMORIALS have created another mesmerising listen that's accomplished and compelling in its unique approach yet remains dizzyingly immersive - just like their acclaimed live shows. "Exciting and unpredictable" The Guardian "Everything you'd expect from a duo adept in the strange and esoteric, while also in thrall to pop music's melodic bent." The Quietus "Stunning, kaleidoscopic tunes" Electronic Sound "Engagingly eclectic" UNCUT "Divinely tuneful yet confrontational" The Wire "Kaleidoscopic art-pop and adventurous psych-rock with an immersive, experimental aura." KEXP.
PMF006 Has Landed
Poor Man's Friend Recordsproudly welcomes the legendarySylford Walkerto the label with a powerful roots debut single:"They Don't Know."
True to form, this track delivers exactly what you'd expect — and crave — from one of reggae's most iconic and unmistakable Rasta voices. Aheavily saturated drum and bass groovesets the foundation, locked tight with atough, swung Nyahbinghi section. The rhythm is sparse but deeply textured, featuring carefully placedguitars, percussion, and saxophonethat leave room for the message to breathe.
Low in tempo butloaded with low-end weight, "They Don't Know" is a roots statement that resonates. Fans of classic conscious anthems like"Babylonians," "Chant Down Babylon,"and"Africa Homeland"will find themselves right at home.
A heavyweight One Drop. A voice of experience. A message for the times.
Don't sleep on this one.
Out now via Kudos/Poor Man's Friend Records.Catalog number:PMF006.
Introducing the 4th instalment of the Pacific Coast House rebirth. We bring back another much sought-after 12” from The Coastal Commission & Jesse Outlaw. “Bring down the Walls” was a nod to Raze’s “Break for Love”, Robert Owens “Bring Down the Walls” and Ritchie Hawtin’s use of the Roland 606 throughout “Sheet One”. Long out of reach and fetching $100+ on Discogs, Atjazz’s freshly remastered editions are finally available .. “Let it Go” was never mastered & only ever cut to dub-plate. It has now been mastered & available in all it’s glory.
Coastal Commission “Bring Down the Walls” “Bring down the Walls” was a nod to Raze’s “Break for Love”, Robert Owens “Bring Down the Walls” and Ritchie Hawtin’s use of the Roland 606 throughout “Sheet One.” We gave the tune a Californian psychedelic twist with conga laden drums, a moody synth, low pulsing 303 patterns + Benjamin Zephaniahs patois call to “Move the Body Rhythmwize!” The first PCH releases had dropped Worldwide to International acclaim from DJ’s far and wide across the Globe with support in London, Paris & New York. However the local scene here in L.A that preached “Love, inclusion & Unity” was anything but that. L.A at that time was very tribal & divided up into 3 camps. If you weren’t affiliated with any of them (aka independent) then you were pretty much locked out of getting any kind of gig support or the Dj’s from those camps actually playing the music. The local feedback from Dj’s was that what we were making wasn’t “house,” but “Techno” which was absurd to me. “Bring Down the Walls” was a mantra to “move the bod”y and in doing so “bring down the walls” of separation not just in L.A but throughout society in general. Thank goodness for support from people like Terry Francis, Eddie Richards, DJ Deep & Philly Stalwart King Britt. After years of copies going for upward of $100+ on Discogs the now freshly remastered copies by At Jazz’s Martin Iveson are finally hitting the platters this Spring.
Jesse Outlaw “Let it Go” I met Jesse at Beatnonstop Records on Melrose Ave with Miguel Placencia in the late 90’s. Miguel (RIP) was a mainstay in the Underground scene and had always been very supportive of my endeavors. He had had success with a huge release on Yellow Orange and was working with Jesse under the moniker “When Worlds Collide.” I signed “Brighter Days” & “Set you Free” from them and released the tracks on my Seductive imprint. They told me that they were making the tracks on a Sony Playstation “Music Now” program and I was like FFS “What.s more Underground than that!?” Later Jesse gave me some of his solo work. The track “Let it Go” was never mastered & only ever cut to Dub-plate and featured on my 1st PCH mix “Pacific Coast House Sounds.” It has now been mastered by Martin Iveson and is available in all it’s glory. The dreamy vocal “You need to let it go” beckons over the top of driving percussive Latin beats and church organ which is a great compliment to the flip side of “Bring down the Walls.” All in all two West Coast stompers now finally available remastered on PCH in Orange vinyl.
2026 Repress
The Illegal Disco Limited series is already so wrong it's right and once again it is the inimitable Monsieur Van Pratt dropping two undeniable edits on this one. 'What About Me' kicks off and is a clever flip of a classic groove that has a Chic-style baseline keeping busy down below natty piano work and with hefty drums powering it on. 'Sunset
Driver' is a chugging retro-future disco sound with Michael Jackson vocals from an elusive demo. On the flip, Van Pratt teams up with Boogietraxx for a bright take on the Japanese viral fav 'Stay With Me' and Boogietraxx then takes over solo, first with the funk-driven 'Moving Down the Line' before closing with the feel-good spark of 'Pretty Good Feeling.'
Igor Tamerlan is a stranger in his own land. Born in 1954 the Hague and spent most formative years in Paris, Igor suddenly had the urge to relocate to Bali in 1986. “I want to settle in Indonesia and marry a local girl,” he told his sister shortly before flying out.
His next journey would be as audacious as his time in the Fifth Republic. Born from a prominent Indonesian expatriate family in Paris with ties to Indonesia’s first prime minister Sutan Sjahrir, Igor earned a degree in architecture at Ecole nationale supe´rieure d’architecture de Paris-La Villette.
He could have been a brilliant architect or a political scientist (he was accepted to Sciences Po), but his passion for music distracted him from his academic works. He was after all named after Russian composer Igor Stravinsky.
During his brief stint at Sciences Po, Igor spent most of times hanging out at recording studios and rub shoulders with the likes of singer-songwriter Jean-Jacques Goldman and Michel Polnaref. He had a brief encounter with The Rolling Stones at the Cha^teau de Thoiry studio in the early 1970s.
But Igor’s musical education and his occidental eyes appeared to be ill-suited for Indonesia. His first record, titled Langkah Pertama (First Step) on the mainstream label Musica was met with a shrug and was a commercial dud. An experimental record blending the influence of Spanish motifs, Francophile production and a whiff of hip hop and ska was seen by critics as being too alien. His sarcasm-laden lyrics and his biting critique of excessive materialism among the upper tier of Indonesia’s nouveau riche in the album was met with confusion from the audience. He was just too far ahead of his time.
He left the label Musica – or may had been dropped – soon after Langkah Pertama and decided to go independent. He then relocated to Bali and set up a state-of-the-art recording studio in Sanur, across the street from Southeast Asia’s first boutique hotel where luminaries like Mick Jagger, David Bowie, Sting, Yoko Ono and Ringo Starr stayed for their holiday.
From the studio, Igor recording everything from the sounds waterfalls, geckos, minibuses to motorized rickshaw and mix them with hip hop, jazz, electronica, dub and Balinese gamelan. A visionary, Igor was the first musician to use MIDI, which started to be available globally in the early 1980s.
On paper, songs like “Bali Vanilli” should not work, a mish mash of disparate elements mentioned above, sung in three languages, Balinese, English and Bahasa Indonesia while tackling the subject of overtourism. The song was also the first to introduce rap to an unsuspecting audience. But for some strange reason “Bali Vanilli” became a sensation and overnight Igor became household name. And in 1987, long before overtourism was an issue, Igor broached the subject to a national audience in Indonesia on the possible destruction of nature and culture from tourism.
Ever an iconoclast, Igor decided to step out of the limelight following the success of “Bali Vanilli” and in early 1990s he relocated to Indonesia’s cultural capital, Yogyakarta. Here, he worked on some more experimental music while juggling as music video director. He passed away in 2018 at the age of 64.
The 10 songs in this compilation, Bali Vanilli: Experimental Pop from Paradise Island (1987-1991), are some of Igor’s best works, music that would have gone into obscurity had it not been for the diligent work of film director Alfred Pasifico Ginting, who managed to track down some of the master tapes while researching on a documentary on the musician.
These recordings have never before been released outside of Indonesia. Igor would have been proud with this reissue project.
The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.
When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.
Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.
When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.
Emilia Sisco’s single “Trouble” b/w “It’ll Get Better” gets an instrumental treatment by Timmion, crafted by the label’s renowned powerhouse, Cold Diamond & Mink. In the absence of Emilia’s vocals, the instrumental renditions of both tracks offer the listener a fresh perspective to the deep original material.
The shimmering guitar licks of “Trouble” run face to face with the tightly grooving horn section. What starts as a light and melodic stroll in the park grows slowly towards the anthem-like ending.
“It’ll Get Better” drops the tempo down a notch, as the organ glides slowly through the southern-tinged deep soul instrumental.
Cold Diamond & Mink’s seasoned production skills shine through as they infuse these instrumental tracks with their soulful signature touch. If you are looking for a funky background for your day or jukebox, sink your teeth into these analog treats right now.
Making his debut on Gated, Sweden’s Sean Dixon serves up four deep and spacey – but always warm and funky – house tracks.
The Final Chapter label boss kicks off the Detroit-influenced EP with title track The Clock, which partners driving bass with a touch of detuned piano and well-timed drops to ignite any dancefloor.
A2 track Resistance takes things in a heads-down direction, with subtle Eastern influences in the melodies and breathy vocal samples.
The B-side’s Kairo Express combines bleep influences with piano loops and that ever-present bumping bass to cosmic effect, while closer When Dawn Breaks sees Dixon collaborate with Bohm for an emotive Mr. Fingers-infuenced end-of-the-night breakbeat roller.
Audial is a party in Leeds that has made great moves in recent times and has become an essential night out for those who like heady underground sounds. It now takes the natural next step by branching out with a new label and a fresh VA to kick it off. City mainstay Keefy G serves up the first cut 'After Diz' - a raw, gritty garage house slammer with naughty bass. Joejoemojo's 'Moneymaker' spins out on dusty breaks and warped low ends that bring the filth and on the flip Kerouac drops the late night and eerie tech of 'Broken' with bleepy synths and sultry spoken words. Geeson3003 shuts down with a rework of a Streets classic that hits hard with a UKG twist.
There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.
From out of nowhere comes a unique collaborative album from Edvard Graham Lewis (WIRE) & Mark Spybey (ZOVIET FRANCE). Mixing lush electronic rhythms, sonic collage, ambient soundscapes and manipulated field recordings, these six compositions form an album with a strong identity. That this is such a vital and fertile partnership should come as no surprise. After all, both men have made careers out of creating confidently questing musics. Lewis with Wire, He Said, Hox, Dome etc. and Spybey with Dead Voices on Air, Beehatch, Altered Statesmen, Zoviet France and so on. This new album however, is something different again: experimental, yet tightly focused, and not averse to the groove or the sly hook. The pair met via an appearance on a podcast in November 2022, hosted by cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy. They hit it off immediately. “We did a live chat with Graham - which I think, went on for about three days” jokes Spybey. It was Spybey who first broached the idea of collaboration. “It was a bit like shy bairns get nowt: I just said ‘maybe we should make something together.’” And so, with no plan other than to see what might develop, the duo began to assemble the compositions at long distance. Indeed, Lewis and Spybey only met in the real world after the album had been completed. “Mark sent half a dozen tracks in a stereo mix,” says Lewis. “And I looked at the ’topography’, to see where the spaces might be. So then I’d add to those areas. But then, when do you take it away? Sometimes you let it drop off a cliff, land in the shingle, and it gets washed out to sea again.” The process moved at a pace. “Almost everything each of us brought, ending up being incorporated in some way.” Says Spybey. “We didn’t really go down any cul-de-sacs.” As Lewis observes “We have such a sympathetic tone.” Full of inventive sonics that draw on both men’s previous work, ‘Lewis/Spybey’ offers up a richly detailed soundworld
On and on, the beat goes on. Sound System culture plays a huge part in the history of House music, shaping Mysticisms, its founders and the music it brings into the spotlight. Continuing the dive into that history, in all its forms and permutations, Tranquil Elephantizer’s 1995 classic Zombie Dawn is reissued here in its original form.
A name that has been getting noticed on recent releases for the likes of legendary San Francisco collective Wicked Records and Manchester’s cult Red Laser label, the project has, in fact, been around for several decades.
Morphing out of the late 80s Acid House revolution, members Alexis Worrall, brothers Caspar and Darius Kedros and focal point, David Jenkins aka DJ Shakra came together in the South London melting pot of free parties and DIY anything is possible ethos.
Born of a collaboration between the short-lived Camberwell Butterflies project – featuring Alexis Worrall and DJ Shakra amongst others – and the Kedros’ bothers downtempo/trip hop forbears Slowly. With a shared label, on the ground-breaking Chill Out Records, and Thursday late-night encounters at London’s legendary Megatripolis club, they decided to pool studio resources and Tranquil Elephantizer was born.
Mixing lo-fi 808 heavy analog jams of the Butterflies, with the studio sophistication from the Slowly crew, sparked something new and Zombie Dawn was the first result. Local producer Crispin J Glover dropped by the studio, riding high with his Caucasian Boy project’s hypnotic Northern Lights (featuring DJ Shakra on Roland 303) – recently out on Strictly Rhythm – he offered to remix both Zombie Dawn and the Slowly album cut No Slo Dub for release on his own Matrix label and an underground hit on the London and West Coast 90s party scene was born.
Coming in the original “Saxmental Mix”, alongside Glover’s storming “Nu Dawn Club Mix” Zombie Dawn was a correlation of the past, present and future in one record. The history of British House can be heard in the bumpin’ nature of the beats, the sharp hats encompassed around dub overtones that give it added warmth. The slightly quirky, left field touches of the tracks, set against the then weekly overload of sharp US imports, brought the mix of influences from the Tonka and Sugarlump Sound Systems they had partied and been involved with, on to vinyl, adding touches of jazz keys and disco’s heritage for good measure.
A bedfellow for the emerging UK House sound coming on the likes of Luxury Service (Rob Mello / Zaki Dee), Other (A Man Called Adam / DJ D) and Nuphonic (Faze Action / Idjut Boys), that shaped and defined London clubs and far beyond. Some 30 years later, with a new album on the way, here is debut Tranquil Elephantizer’s release, remastered especially for this reissue, ready to bring that optimistic thinking back.
Tranquil the Mystery.
“Tubby did three original dub albums, ‘Dub From The Roots’. ‘The Roots of Dub’ and the third is ‘Brass Rockers’ with Tommy McCook ‘pon the flying cymbals. Where he mixed it with the horn going in and out in a dub way and one named ‘Shalom Dub’ you can call Tubby’s too because he mixed the versions as they were off forty fives’’
Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee
King Tubby and Producer Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee are intertwined in the birth of Dub Music. After discovering a mistake that made a ‘serious joke’ (more of which later...) they went on to release the first pressings of this new musical genre namely ‘Dub Music’. Tubby’s vast knowledge of electronics and Bunny’s vast catalogue of rhythms would lay the foundations of what today is taken as a standard... the Remix / Version cuts to an existing vocal tune.
Osbourne ‘King Tubby’ Ruddock was born in Kingston, Jamaica on 28th January 1941 and grew up in the High Holborn Street area of downtown Kingston. He studied electronics at Kingston’s National Technical College and also on two correspondence courses from the U.S.A... When he had qualified Tubby began repairing radios and other electrical appliances in a shack in the back yard of his mother’s home. His work in the early days included winding transformers and building amplifiers for Kingston’s Sound Systems. Tubby built his first Sound System in 1957 playing jazz and Rhythm & Blues at local weddings and birthday parties. His reputation as a man who knew and understood both electronics and music grew steadily and as the sixties drew to a close. Tubby
purchased his own basic two track equipment. He installed this alongside his dub cutting machine, a home-made mixing console, and his impressive collection of jazz albums in the back bedroom of his home at 18 Dromilly Avenue which he christened his music room.
Tubby and Striker were at Treasure Isle Studio’s one day while Ruddy from Spanish Town was working with the engineer Byron Smith....
“Tubby and myself was talking when Ruddy was cutting some dub but Smithy (engineer) made a mistake through we were talking and forgot to put in the voice. It was two track recording in those days. Ruddy said ‘No Man! Make it stay! and so they cut the rhythm. When I went over to Ruddy’s that Saturday night a dance was in progress and when they played the vocal to the tune... then he said we’re going to play ‘Part Two’. They never called it ‘Version’..and then he played the rhythm track. The song was a catchy song and everybody started to sing along and the deejay started to toast so everything went down well. On Monday morning I went up and I said ‘Tubbs the mistake we made was a serious joke.It mash up Spanish Town! The people went wild. So you have to start to do that now ‘cause when the man put on the ‘Part Two’ everyone start singing this song. It played about twenty times. I said you try Tubbs!’...Well the next Saturday night now when Tubby strung up down the farm U Roy said he’s going to play ‘Part Two’ but Tubby did it different now. He started with the voice then dropped it out and let the rhythm run and then he brought in the voice in the middle and from there Tubby started to get really popular.’’
Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee
Dynamic Sounds upgraded to sixteen track recording in 1972 and Tubby purchased, again with the help of a deal brokered by Bunny Lee. The old four track equipment and the MCI console from their Studio B. The four tracks now gave him far wider scope to work with and he began to create a new musical form where the bass and drum parts were brought up while the faders allowed Tubby to ease the vocal and rhythm in and out of the mix. It was only a matter of time before Tubby’s dub plate experiments began to make it on to vinyl and the first ever long-playing King Tubby releases would feature a collection of his mixes to a selection of Strikers rhythms. So please sit back and enjoy this historic set of sounds. Lovingly restored and with a few extra gems added to the CD Editions. These releases were the first to carry the name of King Tubby and the first to credit the great musicians that contributed so much to the rhythms that made these albums possible.
