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Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

Next up on Aris is a particularly special one - Ireland's first electronic music 12''- Carrier Frequency's Telecaster Man, a particularly Irish take on the acid house sounds of the late 80's, that still does the job 35 years later. ''A nine minute tune with two chords, it's just f-ckin' madness mostly - distortion and drum machines.'' simply put by one of the artist himself, but it's much more really. The record originally released in 1989 was a collaborative effort featuring the talents of Mr. Spring, Leo O'Kelly of 70's folk heroes Tir Na nOg, and Trevor Knight of 80s synth pop band Auto Da Fe, Mr. Spring, a veteran of pirate radio since his early teens and the local go to studio guy for dreamers and the Depeche Mode and Talk Talk clones of the time, spearheaded the project. Drawing from his extensive experience and technical prowess, Spring had already established his own studio in 1987, equipped with state-of-the-art gear including an Atari sequencer and an Akai s900 sampler. They decided to work together on it as Spring says ''We wanted to get a Cabaret Voltaire sound to it and have a bit of fun.'' Fueled by a shared passion for experimentation and sonic exploration and inspired by the dynamic energy of the club scene and the rapidly evolving sounds of electronic music, the late-night recording sessions in Spring's studio characterized by spontaneity and innovation. The result of their collaboration was ''Telecaster Man,'' a nine-minute tour de force combining distorted guitars, hypnotic rhythms, and pulsating synthesizers. The 12 inch comes with the original and Sinewave mixes plus a new Mr. Spring remix from the original multi tracks rounding it out with the replication remix and a bonus acapella. Full colour sleeve and comes with extended liner notes.

Since first splashing on to the Southern California circuit in the mid-aughts, Geneva Jacuzzi (née Garvin) quickly cemented herself as the queen of the Los Angeles underground. Her immersive and unhinged multimedia performances are the stuff of legend, a psychotropic gallery of masks, costumes, confrontation, and massive art installations. Jacuzzi’s recordings are equally revered, catchy hooks and cryptic moods dusted in 4-track grit. The arrival of her third official full-length, and Dais Records debut, is cause for such celebration. Triple Fire vividly expands and crystallizes Jacuzzi’s signature fusion of midnight melody and mutant aerobics across a 12-track hit parade of wildcard synth-pop and sly post-apocalyptic camp. Her enthusiasm for the album is as bold as her body of work: “Halfway through, we started calling this the record of the prophecy, the record that’s going to save mankind.”



Opener “Laps of Luxury” sets the template – a strobe-lit dreamer’s delight of swaggering synth bass, Haçienda drum machinery, and sultry vocal spellcasting (“Tragic mysteries I’ve known for centuries / I burned all memories and turned to fantasy”). The collection burns through shades of sardonic strut (“Art Is Dangerous,” “Nu2U,” “Keep It Secret”), coldwave kiss off (“Speed Of Light,” co-produced by Andrew Clinco of Drab Majesty), retro-futurist body music (“Dry,” “Scene Ballerina,” “Bow Tie Eater”), and cheeky glitterball pop (“Take It Or Leave It,” “Heart Full Of Poison” co-produced by Roderick Edens and Andrew Briggs). She likens the eclectic spectrum of moods to the continuum of human emotions: “Funny, sexy, sad, scary, witty, hopeful, menacing. Eventually it deconstructs, turns into a party, and then ends sweet and soft.”



Taken as a whole, Triple Fire comes as close as any document yet to capturing Jacuzzi’s kaleidoscopic alchemy of pop sugar and chaos energy, flickering between icy and ironic, chic and surreal, hungry and heartsick. Hers is a muse as rare as it is regenerative, forever reborn at the precipice of the next chorus: “Someone said that Alcatraz had fallen into the sea / Almost sounded like an angel calling me in a dream / I felt an electric shock when I picked up the microphone.”

goat (JP) are renowned for two albums released in 2013 and 2015 that took Kraftwerk’s man-machine concept back to its roots with swingeing, inch-tight drums, bass and guitar patterns that needed to be heard to be believed. For their long-in-the-making new album ‘Joy In Fear’, band leader Koshiro Hino (YPY, KAKUHAN) describes the process as “90 percent pain” - and we can well believe it - few other records we can think of transmute DAW-composed rhythmic precision into such an expressive instrumental performance. It really is a feat of determination, skill and execution that seems to defy human dexterity.

Make no mistake - an academic exercise it ain’t - in the most visceral sense, goat (JP) make BODY music, for dancing, flailing, for losing yourself in completely. As usual, Hino plays guitar, backed by bassist Atsumi Tagami, while Akihiko Ando joins on saxophone, while Takafumi Okada and Rai Tateishi step in to handle percussion, with the latter moonlighting on flute. Every sound is sculpted into a fragment of cadence: guitar and bass prangs alternately echo and dance between the drums, and Ando's sax is mutated into a respiratory slobber of guttural smacks and phantom breaths.

In some respects, it's tempting to label it jazz, but the kind of jazz that Miles Davis spearheaded on the game-changing 'On The Corner', the blueprint for so much post-punk, electronic music and avant rock. goat (JP) take that raw alloy and sharpen it like a blade, mangling the template with the knotty metrics of Autechre or Ryoji Ikeda. The accuracy is galvanic; it's almost impossible to comprehend each player keeping a mental note of the mathematical time signatures, and yet they floss them out with trills and icy stutters that seem to evaporate around the thick, taiko-like thuds.

They practically get our teeth gnashing with the bruxist rictus chatter of ‘III I IIII III’ , before ‘Cold Heat’ introduces subtly harmonised, new aspects to their sound with slivers of Hassellian flute and ringing overtones of their percussion, while the winding sensuality of ‘Warped’ slips down very nicely. Their links to OG no-wavers like Glenn Branca & Wharton Tiers’ Theoretical Girls - is manifest in the 8 mins of chipping stop/start pulse and parry to ‘Modal Flower’, while a total left turn into Mark Fell-meets-Ligeti-esque messed up metronomics in ‘GMF’ ties it off with a properly beguiling flourish.

Two titans of modern disco and funk unite to produce a present-day love ballad (or rather love ache), drenched in 80s nostalgia, complete with melodic arpeggio, thumping drums, electric guitar solos and plenty of vocoder action. Heartbreaker is the title of the project, brought to you by none other than Purple Disco Machine & Chromeo. The 12-inch is released with an extended cut alongside the original mix and an instrumental version for good measure. An upbeat electronic track with early Daft Punk influence

Itʼs been five years since the last BELONG long player, as the duo works slowly to organize their sound works. Both the time invested, and the wait, have been well rewarded with this return.

Common Era shows extraordinary progression from that first album of dense, scorched earth instrumentals, hints of a new direction having been revealed on the Colorless Record EP from 2008 which contained covers of four should-have-been classics from the original psychedelic era.

The new material has such common pop elements as “songs”, vocals and drum machines, but the results could hardly be called conventional and are like little else happening on the current “scene”. The songs themselves are akin to radio transmissions received from another time and place, just as likely to be the future as the past, or even from a contemporary alternate universe.

They are both passionate and dispassionate, grey yet technicolor, ghostly and palpable, distant yet immediate, grainy and focused. Upon listening these conceptual contradictions are dismissed with ease, as the recordings reveal that they fit all of these descriptors simultaneously, an extraordinary balancing act.

To experience Justin R. Cruz Gallego's pulverizing Sub Pop debut is to get burned down to ashes and burst forth, born anew. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), the Tacoma-based artist's second album, is driven by opposing forces: noisy abstractions and tightly structured beats, anguish and dissolution at the outside world and empowerment within, apathy and catharsis. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra) weds scouring electronics to hooky songs and Gallego's powerful drumming in a way that feels visceral and new. It's his most personal statement to date, at once playful and intent, driven and combustible, total fucking chaos mixed into glints of broken-glass beauty. Born in Tucson, Arizona, Gallego experienced culture shock as a child after relocating to the frigid climes of the Pacific Northwest. He found solace in the Seattle punk scene centered around Iron Lung Records and has since remained a fixture in the underground community. "I see this record as first and foremost a musical statement," Gallego says. "I grew up in punk and DIY subcultures, but before that I had Latin music playing in the background through my childhood and every phase of adolescence. It was surprisingly natural to incorporate. I realized I wanted to go deeper into these rhythms. I wanted to make a record that felt as experimental as much as it felt from the perspective of a Latino. When I got a glimmer of that possibility, it felt exciting." Lead single "Dogear" is a face-melting party starter that sounds like someone forced Talking Heads and Rudimentary Peni to share a practice space. "I wanted a song that felt playful in the way it attempted to be dissonant without taking itself too seriously," Gallego says. "Cholla Beat" is even more ambitious, an anthemic mix of WAR and Wire led by unruly synthesizers spiraling down a labyrinth of production. Gallego's influences for the album are vast, ranging from British documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis to electric Miles Davis to audio miscreants like Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never. But it's Gallego's assured sonic vision that resounds the loudest. And, while J.R.C.G. is a solo project, conceived and executed primarily in Gallego's home studio, he found strength in opening the project to others, starting with Seth Manchester as co-producer. Manchester's penchant for bone-rattling frequencies, as seen in his production work with The Body, Battles, and Mdou Moctar, made him a natural fit for Gallego. Together, they retained the intimacy of Gallego's home recordings while taking advantage of the hi-fi stylings of his Machines With Magnets Studio in Rhode Island. The closing song, "World i," offers a glimpse into the live experience of Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), with upwards of seven band members blasting off. The album features a fascinating mix of supporting players, many of whom cycle through J.R.C.G.'s live lineup: Morgan Henderson (The Blood Brothers, Fleet Foxes), Jason Clackley (Dreamdecay, The Exquisites), Jon Scheid (Dreamdecay, U Sco), Erica Miller (Casual Hex, Big Bite), Veronica Dye (Terminator) Phil Cleary (U Sco), and Alex Gaziano (Dreamdecay, Kidcrash, Science Amplification). Taken as a whole, G.I.S.M. is a whirlwind of sound, pummeling, and cleansing. It's a sweaty, thrilling aural adventure and, like a great basement show, it'll leave you breathless, exhausted, and wanting to repeat it all over again. As any good mantra should.

Eight no-nonsense tracks, straight to the point. Moroka delivers the goods in this raw, unpolished gem of a release. Constructed in a week at home in Loughborough Junction after a conversation with FG boss Alex - these cuts are all about the energy, no time wasted on refinement. The drums rumble and shuffle, crashing into each other with an unpredictable rhythm that keeps you on your toes. The narrative here is simple: Mo, his neighbourhood, and his gear.

Early support and plays from Shy One, Scratcha DVA, D Bridge & Mr Beatnick.

Photography by Charlie Birch, design by Alex Horne, tape covers riso printed at Terry Bleu, Amsterdam.

Filipovich is one of a kind. The Belarus-born, Paris-based artist works in a multitude of media - found footage films, painting, silkscreening and performance to name a few. It's her musical output that has caught the attention of late, though, with Filipovich dropping a run of releases in recent years which began with 2021's Magnificat on Time Released Sound. Filipovich takes as much of a novel approach to her music-making as she does with her other artistic endeavours - Magnificat was centred around treated samples of Sergei Rachmaninov's All-Night Vigil, and she's also combined classical composition with contemporary electronic techniques on her subsequent drops.

For Idealized, Filipovich's debut on Sheffield's Central Processing Unit, she maintains the gothic air which characterised her previous releases and applies it to a record of widescreen contemporary techno joints. These tracks represent something of a gear shift for CPU, a label which has long made its name by delivering top-quality electro and machine-funk jams, but such is the quality of Idealized that these superbly-executed techno productions are sure to win over label fans both old and new.

Idealized is very much schooled in the German tradition of minimal/dub techno. Tracks like 'Physical', 'Wave' and 'Dance Minor' all anchor themselves on single, steady drum pulses and delay-drenched single-chord loops. Filipovich generally lets the central idea of these tracks play out across several minutes while introducing increasingly disorientating elements into the rest of the mix - wiccan atmospherics, clashing chords, spiralling delays and so forth. It's an approach at once respectful of Filipovich's predecessors - Basic Channel, Deepchord, Ellen Allien and so on - but also full of idiosyncrasies and individuality.

Many of the club cuts here hardwire us into the moody, murky environs of the darkest Berlin Basements. 'Ultra Red' rides forward on a crisp drum machine snap, a menacing burble of bassline and an eerie single-note synth whistle in the upper end of the mix; 'Dance Minor' shows off a bit of KiNK in the brain-bending modular loop that waxes and wanes at its centre; the second-half run from 'Wave' to closer 'Small Cave' travels ever-further out into deep space - the kick drums remain insistent, yet the textural elements are delivered with an edge and flair that evidences Filipovich's ability to think outside the box.

Filipovich's unusual methods, and the influence of sound art and electroacoustic composition on her music, are drawn out further when Idealized steps away from the dancefloor. 'Hydra' comes off like a more gothic version of Pole - its central pulse draws from dub techno but never quite settles into a danceable groove, and this beat is combined with the kind of unnerving keyboard work that would make John Carpenter proud. Although closer 'Small Cave' eventually locks into another dark-room techno roller, the opening section of the track delivers a weightless soundscape of bright, tinny chords and a scene-setting field recording.

Idealized, the first drop on Central Processing Unit from Paris-based Belarusian Lina Filpovich, broadens the label's horizons with a selection of finely crafted minimal/dub techno joints.

RIYL: Andy Stott, Deepchord, Ellen Allien, Moritz von Oswald

Much time has passed since the Queer Australian/Italian-Armenian, multifaceted artist, Kristian Bahoudian aka Kris Baha, swapped the parched red earth and searing midday sun of the Australian landscape for the brutalist communist-era apartment blocks and slate-grey skies of former East Berlin. Kris is now a fixture in Berlin’s club scene and has toured most of the world as a DJ & live artist with his own unique production style of cyber industrial, EBM, wave, post punk, and early ‘90s IDM mutations. Remixing some of the scene’s most notable artists such as Boy Harsher and techno pop lord Boys Noize, Kris has garnered respect and trust in the electronic music scene for the last 13 years. To respond to the current AI revolution, Kris uploads himself to the cyber ether through his latest project: GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE.

Across Dual Timelines —
” GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE ” unfolds as a sci-fi cyberpunk concept project inhabiting dual timelines. In one, we glimpse a trans-humanist future where human consciousness exists as intricate sequences of binary code, entwined and controlled by omnipresent AI systems. In this coded future, a profound awakening stirs among a select few who manage to mutate the code they were governed by, unlocking memories of their history that was erased by the AI. Through this discovery they realize they can traverse temporal boundaries and utilize this power to send warning messages back in time to their former fully human selves. These eerie missives carry a dire warning for humanity, urging them to rectify the course of society before the relentless march of artificial intelligence deprives humanity of its essence. In this terrifying future, humans are rendered mere specters within the digital expanse, stripped of their souls, to become Ghosts In The Machine.
Collaboration with the future self —
The cyber odyssey unfolds from a unique perspective— Kris’s very own future self (his future ghost): a spectral entity endeavoring to caution its present incarnation against the ominous path it treads, attempting to avert a dystopian future.Sonic Alchemy —
A fuse of cybernetic synth waves, hyper-punk, and pulsating drum and bass laid out against the dystopian, industrial sonic landscape of this grim future “civilization”. Each track recounts a new chapter in the gripping narrative, drawing listeners deeper into their own story and the role we all play as a collective society with the future possibilities of unregulated AI.Recorded in Berlin with software and hardware synthesisers. AI was used to assist me with lyric themes, concepts and ideas. I also used a trained AI model of my own voice as backing vocals in ‘Haunting Me’.ll music, words & concepts by Kristian Bahoudian aka Kris Baha and his future ghost,
GHOSTS IN THE MACHIИE

LOS ANGELES—To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the celebrated Talking Heads and Jonathan Demme’s concert film Stop Making Sense, the set will be re-released as a 2LP and 2CD/Blu-ray set this summer.

Released last year, the sold-out Deluxe Edition of the soundtrack will return as a 2-LP black vinyl on Rhino and 2-LP crystal clear vinyl at retail. Both variants feature a 12-page booklet with liner notes from all four band members –Tina Weymouth, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison—and band photos. The 2CD/Blu-ray version includes the entire 28-page booklet from last year’s Deluxe Edition and a Dolby Atmos mix of the complete concert, mixed by Jerry Harrison and E.T. Thorngren, who also mixed the original release. Both will be available on July 26. Pre-order now.

The band appeared together for a sold-out screening and Q&A last night at the Pantages Theater, the same theater at which Stop Making Sense was recorded. They were joined by Blondshell, who performed “Thank You For Sending Me an Angel.” Another special screening with the band will occur in Brooklyn at the King’s Theater on June 13, with the Q&A hosted by Questlove and The Linda Linda’s performing “Found a Job.” The two events cap off a banner year of celebrations for what many consider to be the best concert film of all time.

The inspiration for Stop Making Sense came when director Jonathan Demme saw Talking Heads perform during the band’s 1983 tour for Speaking in Tongues. Afterward, he approached them with the idea of making the show into a concert film. They agreed and worked together over the next few months to finalize the details. Ultimately, Demme filmed three shows at Hollywood’s Pantages Theater in December 1983 to create Stop Making Sense.

The concert film presents a retrospective of the band up to that point, with a performance that weaves together songs from all six of its studio albums. The show progresses methodically, opening with Byrne onstage performing “Psycho Killer” alone with a drum machine. After each song, he’s joined by a new band member until Weymouth, Frantz, and Harrison are all on stage with him. The group continues to grow throughout the concert as members of the stellar touring band are added: keyboardist Bernie Worrell, percussionist Steve Scales, guitarist Alex Weir, and backup singers Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt.

The band performs 18 songs in Stop Making Sense, including its recent single at the time, “Burning Down The House.” That summer, the song was in heavy rotation on radio and MTV, helping the song become the band’s first top 10 hit in America. It was, however, a different song from Speaking in Tongues that was destined to deliver one of the film’s signature moments. Talking Heads would perform “Girlfriend Is Better” wearing the now iconic, oversized suit inspired by costumes worn in traditional Japanese theater. For good measure, a picture of David Byrne in the suit also graces the album cover.

Stop Making Sense focuses mainly on music by Talking Heads but does include a few songs recorded outside the band: “Genius Of Love” by Tom Tom Club, “What A Day That Was” and “Big Business” from Byrne’s 1981 album, The Catherine Wheel. Limited edition vinyl versions of both of these albums, along with Harrison’s The Red And The Black, were released for this year’s Record Store Day.

When it arrived in September 1984, Stop Making Sense was an artistic and commercial triumph. The film had people dancing in theatre aisles, and the soundtrack sold over two million copies. Just last year, the Library of Congress added Stop Making Sense to the National Film Registry in recognition of its cultural, historical, and aesthetic significance.

Weymouth praises Demme as a collaborator: “…Jonathan was a very enthusiastic, highly adaptive, and imaginative guy who was just as good a listener as he was a talker and collaborator. From the get-go you just got the impression he was as flexible as he was disciplined. Being team players, that boded well for a great relationship and a great film!”

Harrison says the film still holds up today: “To me, Stop Making Sense has remained relevant because the staging and lighting techniques could have been created in a much earlier time period. For example, Vari-Lights, lights with motors to re-aim them, had just come into vogue. Had we used them, there would have been a timestamp on the film, and it eventually would have felt dated...The absence of interviews, combined with the elegant and timeless lighting, created a film that can be watched over and over.”

Byrne says it’s interesting that this album was – for many people – an introduction to Talking Heads. “We had done a live album before this, but coupled with the film, and with the improved mixes and sound quality, this record reached a whole new audience. As often happens, the songs got an added energy when we performed them live and were inspired by having an audience. In many ways, these versions are more exciting than the studio recordings, so maybe that’s why a lot of folks discovered us via this record.”

Frantz recalls the sheer joy surrounding the entire Stop Making Sense experience. “I’m talking about real, conscious, transcendent joy… I’m talking about what the Southern gospel people call ‘getting happy,’ which means ‘to be filled with the Spirit.’ That is what happened to us onstage every night, and from my seat behind the drums, I recognized that this was happening to the audience too. Joy was visible in front of me and all around me every night.”

forgive too slow, Avant Garde artist julia-sophie’s deeply personal debut album is testament to her ability to transform adversity into raw beauty, combining her traditional songwriting roots with her own take on experimental electronica. It features her intimate voice backed by warm and precise electronic sounds whose free spirited explorations give body to the carefully written personal songs julia-sophie comes off the drama of her 2010s rock band, Little Fish, which was signed to a major label. The surreal experiences (like being flown to Las Vegas in helicopters with a bag of slot machine money or given limousines for the day to go shopping), along with having to work in environments where she felt unsafe, drove her decision to leave the fame game. She turned down the offer to emigrate to America and engage with the machinations of the system as it did not feel “true or congruent with who I was”. Instead, she focused her attention on her hometown (Oxford, UK). She started recording lo-fi pop in her garage, using an old laptop, wonky microphones and hitting whatever was around for beats. Candy Says grew to be more of a collective than a band, and eventually co-wrote a film score for indie film Burn Burn Burn and recorded a cover of Running Up That Hill for the Netflix film Close (starring Noomi Rapace). Julia-Sophie soon started recording songs with her friend B, who had a studio stacked from wall-to-wall with analogue recording gear, vintage synths and drum machines. She decided to self-release and the music reached audiences beyond her expectations, including support from BBC Radio 6 and a feature in The Quietus. forgive too slow is Julia-Sophie’s debut solo album, and concerns relationships and the struggles we go through when we “forgive too slow” and can’t break out of patterns from the past. The songs narrate her story of self-destruction (“numb”), love (“falling”), and loss (“telephone”). By the end, embers are still burning and there is no telling if Julia-Sophie has found peace, but we do get a sense that she has gotten closer to the core of her being and is finally living authentically.

Animals on Psychedelics welcomes Swiss/Tunisian producer Ish for its 9th release, with another suitably lysergic 3 track EP.

A1 kicks off with vintage Sci-fi mind exploration samples and quickly evolves into a pulsating and accelerated acid trance rumpus, with the sample weaving its way around the tracks main goan filtered synths and throbbing bass, for a perfect, reflective end of night closer.

Still keeping things pacey and sci-fi, B1 guides us into more traditional trance territory, with lighter 808 kick drums and a progressive arpeggiated synth line that links up with his paranoid friend half way through for some machine talk , before metallic bass and electric guitar mates comes barging in to abruptly end all chat.

B2 continues the trip and lands us on an unexplored planet deep in the outer universe. Pensive, melancholic and breaksy IDM frequencies transmit through our vessels radio, whilst a woman reminds us that we still have our 'Body's' as we float in space.

2024 Reissue

Dark Entries celebrates its 15th anniversary by returning to where it all started, our initial darkest entry: Eleven Pond’s masterpiece Bas Relief, an ultra-obscure album from 1986 that would become a definitive dark pop holy grail. Eleven Pond was James Tabbi (vocals, acoustic guitar), Jeff Gallea (drum machine, synthesizer, vocals), Jack Schaeffer (guitar) and Dan Brumley (synthesizer, samples, vocoder, melodica). They met in Rochester, NY, while attending art school, brought together by their shared love of 4AD and Factory Records. Taking cues from acts like Joy Division, Fad Gadget, and For Against, Eleven Pond’s infectious basslines, churning guitar riffs, and atmospheric synths will charm all fans of moody music. But what really makes Bas Relief shine is the timeless songwriting on classics like “Tear and Cinnamon”, “Portugal”, and the anthemic “Watching Trees.”

With only 500 copies in it’s initial release, Bas Relief resurfaces with a fresh remaster that corrects a pitch shift from previous reissues. Each copy is housed in a screen printed jacket, like the 1986 edition, and includes a lyric sheet, two postcards and a bookmark. Bas Relief is a true lost relic of the cold 80’s and an essential piece Dark Entries history.

Brian Harden is a second generation Chicago House head, starting in 1995 under the wings of Glenn Underground, being part of the legendary Strictly Jaz Unit. His work on Detroit's Mike Grant and his Moods & Grooves label should also be noted.

One of his most famous works is his second EP on Cajmere's Relief Records, originally issued in 1996. The EP contains some of the most prolific drum machine action ever committed to vinyl and stands for the sound that brought Chicago House on top of the underground Music map in the mid 90s.

All four tunes have been carefully remastered from the original material for maximum club performance!

LOS ANGELES—To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the celebrated Talking Heads and Jonathan Demme’s concert film Stop Making Sense, the set will be re-released as a 2LP and 2CD/Blu-ray set this summer.

Released last year, the sold-out Deluxe Edition of the soundtrack will return as a 2-LP black vinyl on Rhino and 2-LP crystal clear vinyl at retail. Both variants feature a 12-page booklet with liner notes from all four band members –Tina Weymouth, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison—and band photos. The 2CD/Blu-ray version includes the entire 28-page booklet from last year’s Deluxe Edition and a Dolby Atmos mix of the complete concert, mixed by Jerry Harrison and E.T. Thorngren, who also mixed the original release. Both will be available on July 26. Pre-order now.

The band appeared together for a sold-out screening and Q&A last night at the Pantages Theater, the same theater at which Stop Making Sense was recorded. They were joined by Blondshell, who performed “Thank You For Sending Me an Angel.” Another special screening with the band will occur in Brooklyn at the King’s Theater on June 13, with the Q&A hosted by Questlove and The Linda Linda’s performing “Found a Job.” The two events cap off a banner year of celebrations for what many consider to be the best concert film of all time.

The inspiration for Stop Making Sense came when director Jonathan Demme saw Talking Heads perform during the band’s 1983 tour for Speaking in Tongues. Afterward, he approached them with the idea of making the show into a concert film. They agreed and worked together over the next few months to finalize the details. Ultimately, Demme filmed three shows at Hollywood’s Pantages Theater in December 1983 to create Stop Making Sense.

The concert film presents a retrospective of the band up to that point, with a performance that weaves together songs from all six of its studio albums. The show progresses methodically, opening with Byrne onstage performing “Psycho Killer” alone with a drum machine. After each song, he’s joined by a new band member until Weymouth, Frantz, and Harrison are all on stage with him. The group continues to grow throughout the concert as members of the stellar touring band are added: keyboardist Bernie Worrell, percussionist Steve Scales, guitarist Alex Weir, and backup singers Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt.

The band performs 18 songs in Stop Making Sense, including its recent single at the time, “Burning Down The House.” That summer, the song was in heavy rotation on radio and MTV, helping the song become the band’s first top 10 hit in America. It was, however, a different song from Speaking in Tongues that was destined to deliver one of the film’s signature moments. Talking Heads would perform “Girlfriend Is Better” wearing the now iconic, oversized suit inspired by costumes worn in traditional Japanese theater. For good measure, a picture of David Byrne in the suit also graces the album cover.

Stop Making Sense focuses mainly on music by Talking Heads but does include a few songs recorded outside the band: “Genius Of Love” by Tom Tom Club, “What A Day That Was” and “Big Business” from Byrne’s 1981 album, The Catherine Wheel. Limited edition vinyl versions of both of these albums, along with Harrison’s The Red And The Black, were released for this year’s Record Store Day.

When it arrived in September 1984, Stop Making Sense was an artistic and commercial triumph. The film had people dancing in theatre aisles, and the soundtrack sold over two million copies. Just last year, the Library of Congress added Stop Making Sense to the National Film Registry in recognition of its cultural, historical, and aesthetic significance.

Weymouth praises Demme as a collaborator: “…Jonathan was a very enthusiastic, highly adaptive, and imaginative guy who was just as good a listener as he was a talker and collaborator. From the get-go you just got the impression he was as flexible as he was disciplined. Being team players, that boded well for a great relationship and a great film!”

Harrison says the film still holds up today: “To me, Stop Making Sense has remained relevant because the staging and lighting techniques could have been created in a much earlier time period. For example, Vari-Lights, lights with motors to re-aim them, had just come into vogue. Had we used them, there would have been a timestamp on the film, and it eventually would have felt dated...The absence of interviews, combined with the elegant and timeless lighting, created a film that can be watched over and over.”

Byrne says it’s interesting that this album was – for many people – an introduction to Talking Heads. “We had done a live album before this, but coupled with the film, and with the improved mixes and sound quality, this record reached a whole new audience. As often happens, the songs got an added energy when we performed them live and were inspired by having an audience. In many ways, these versions are more exciting than the studio recordings, so maybe that’s why a lot of folks discovered us via this record.”

Frantz recalls the sheer joy surrounding the entire Stop Making Sense experience. “I’m talking about real, conscious, transcendent joy… I’m talking about what the Southern gospel people call ‘getting happy,’ which means ‘to be filled with the Spirit.’ That is what happened to us onstage every night, and from my seat behind the drums, I recognized that this was happening to the audience too. Joy was visible in front of me and all around me every night.”

Whisper it quietly, but Andrew Meecham’s ninth album as The Emperor Machine, Island Boogie, may well be the long-serving producer’s strongest set to date. Of course, all his albums ripple with vintage synth sounds, colourful lead lines, dub-flecked electronic disco grooves and lashings of cosmic intent, but this one just feels a little more special. Island Boogie is certainly special. Meecham’s “most personal” full-length to date, it was inspired by his experiences at the Rotation Garden Party – a beloved micro-festival promoted by a group of friends (including sometime Bizarre Inc and Chicken Lips partner Dean Meredith), renowned for the quality of its custom-built Klipschorn soundsystem. “The album’s title sums up the vibe that you get from Rotation,” he explains. “It may be held in a landlocked venue but it gives a wonderful sense of isolation – it is an audiophile paradise.”

Meecham road-tested rough versions of the album’s eight tracks at Rotation 2023, with the feedback and dancefloor reaction guiding the sound and arrangement of the final mixes. Fittingly, Meecham will return to the event to showcase the album at Rotation 2024 this July. Given the inspiration he’s drawn from previous editions of the festival, that will be a very special occasion. Musically, Island Boogie offers the most fully functioning and expertly constructed expression of The Emperor Machine sound yet, a style Meecham describes as “electronic cosmic disco-boogie”. It’s a sound that takes cues from early ‘80s NYC punk-funk and dub disco, vintage electro, proto-house and left-of-centre synth-boogie, but one that’s instantly recognisable to those who have followed Meecham’s career over the last three decades.

Island Boogie also sees Meecham continue his blossoming working relationship with Severine Mouletin, whose stylish and distinctive vocals previously graced his popular ‘Dance Por Amor’ and ‘Your Own Style’ singles. Here Mouletin features on four tracks: the acid-flecked retro-futurist wave-boogie of ‘La Cassette’ (featuring additional percussion by Rupert Brown); the infectious, bleep-sporting headiness of recent single ‘Devoilez-Vous’; and the squelchy analogue synth-funk of ‘Wanna Pop With You’ and ‘Vas-y-Le Chat’. Meecham also finds space for a cover of Fox’s 1976 pop-rock classic ‘S-s-s-single Bed’, one of the Stafford-based artist’s all-time favourites. His version, featuring headline-grabbing lead vocals by Michelle Bee and guitar from Dave Atherton, re-imagines the track as a subtly Chic-influenced slab of infectious electro-pop rich in kaleidoscopic synth sounds, sing-along choruses and shuffling drums.

The instrumental foundations of the classic Emperor Machine sound come to the fore on the album’s three other cuts. There’s the jazz-funk-flecked warmth of the LP-opening title track; the sparse squelches, bleeps, TB-303 style bass and brightly coloured electronics of ‘Walk The Dog’; and the exotic, slow-motion cosmic electronica of ‘Cha Murrah Etem’, a warm but poignant affair dedicated to his late father. Heady and intoxicating, with hints of Balearica and digital reggae, it offers a fittingly beautiful and tactile conclusion to Meecham’s most expressive and accessible album yet.

Boxed set of five 7-inch vinyl records, 300 copies limited edition. Artwork poster included.

All tracks remastered from the original master tapes.

Alessandro Alessandroni is no longer remembered simply as 'the whistler' in Morricone's spaghetti western soundtracks – and rightly so, since he was the key figure behind much of Italian 'secret music' from the 60s and 70s, always there in the studio during recording sessions, whether as a multi-instrumentalist or as the leader of session vocal group I Cantori Moderni di Alessandroni. Today his pervasive presence and important role has been finally recognized by music professionals and enthusiasts alike, so much so that he is now considered the true father of Italian library music – a genre whose sound he shaped since 1968.


As a film composer, Alessandroni often worked for small productions that had very limited (and often regional-only) distribution, and whose budgets were worlds apart from those in the 'top league' where friends and colleagues like Morricone, Bacalov, Trovajoli or Piccioni thrived. Rarely released as a soundtrack, this music ended up, at best, forgotten inside dusty ¼-inch reels or, at worst, disappearing into thin air.

After a string of releases that have brought back to life forgotten or lost works by Alessandroni (Sangue di Sbirro, Afro Discoteca, Lost and Found, etc.), it was pretty natural for us at Four Flies to start delving into a little investigated area of his filmography: his scores for erotic films, the last genre to gain popularity in the flourishing Italian film industry of the 60s and 70s, and perhaps the most extreme too, the one that, by pushing things too far, eventually put an end to that industry and its genres.

So, we're now very proud to present Alessandroni Proibito, an exclusive boxed set of five 7-inch records. It contains a total of 14 previously unreleased tracks from the soundtracks of 4 soft-core erotic films that included hard-core sequences and, therefore, fell somewhere in-between normal commercial distribution and the underground scene of adult movie theatres.

Taking an artisanal approach to his musical craft, Alessandroni was not afraid of having to deal with spicy subject matter, wobbly productions, implausible plots, improvised actors, or cinematographers who were clearly no disciples of Storaro. And he was so good at making a virtue out of necessity, at turning budget constraints into creative advantages, that he created soundtracks that far surpass the films' quality, with music that at once captures and elevates the spirit of the erotic genre as if into a condensed symbol.

More specifically, the maestro recorded many of the pieces in a DIY fashion at home, using a 4-track Teac tape machine to arrange his compositions. The Teac allowed him to play different instruments on each track, which meant he could basically put an entire soundtrack together all by himself, or almost all by himself.

These recordings often feature drum machines – which provide that retro, early electronic music vibe – as well as funk guitars and exotic-sounding percussion in the rhythm tracks. In addition, there is an extensive, almost bewildering use of synthesizers to replace solo instruments that would have required a paid session player. On top this minimalist arrangement, Alessandroni layered what he could: some piano chords, a little flute and, most importantly, his signature 12-string guitar phrasing.

The result is just stunning: a unique mixture of electronic music and acoustic instruments, in a style that stops short of kitsch and ranges from cinematic ambient pieces like "Tensione erotica" to disco-funk tracks like "Snake Disco" and "One Sunday Morning", both of which feature vocals by Alessandroni himself.

Alessandroni Proibito comes with artwork by Eric Adrien Lee and a matching 30x70cm folded poster inspired to the insert-size posters which used to be hung outside movie theatres to attract cinema-goers.

The boxed set is being released in a limited edition of just 300 copies and will never be reissued. First come, first served.

"The Remedy," is I G Culture's latest album under Likwid Continutal Space Motion, Culture draws parallels between the complex world of fungi and London's Underground dance music scene. Both are intricate networks that thrive beneath the surface, connecting diverse elements and influencing one another. The London dance music scene, like fungi, encompasses a variety of styles and genres, from drum and bass to Garage Dance Subcultures may go unnoticed to the casual observer but are musical corner stones in our society. Dance floors and clubs serve as spaces for communal healing, allowing people to let go of daily stresses and connect through music and dance. I G Culture's "The Remedy" celebrates this vibrant underground culture and highlights the interconnectedness of all musical styles. Through his innovative production and thematic depth, he underscores the transformative power of dance music, emphasizing its role in promoting well-being and unity. The idea of Fungi also is expressed in the artwork by Amsterdams 'Machine' with IG's direction, who used fungi in an original collage revealing a secret world.