Suche:dualit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

repressed !

It's no understatement that London Grammar's forthcoming album is one of the most highly anticipated debuts this year. Confirmed for release on September 9, the album is a result of 18 painstaking months spent writing and recording. Each of the 11 tracks is testament to the trio's innate understanding of the roles that subtlety, contrast and restraint have played in the creation of memorable, timeless and transcendent music. 'That's how this all started,' says Dan, 'and it's always been our primary goal, to keep space in the music. The way that, say, the guitar and vocal interact is massively important to us.'

Heavily involved in every decision made on the album, the band handpicked their team, working closely with producers Tim Bran (The Verve, Richard Ashcroft, La Roux) and Roy Kerr AKA The Freelance Hellraiser. Drafting in Roc Nation's KD (Outkast, Beyoncé, Jay-Z) to mix the album, with Grammy-winning Tom Coyne (Adele's 21), joining them to master.
Tracks like If You Wait and Flickers possess that strange duality of lament and defiance, filled with textures, colours, shadings and interjections that are subtle yet deliver devastating power. The next single, Strong, out on September 1 is the final, killer blow. Building - as you would expect from London Grammar - from nothing, from the barest of bones, Hannah's soaring vocals propels the song to its crashing climax.
More than delivering on their promise, London Grammar's electrifying debut solidifies them as being one of the most exciting and innovative bands to emerge in 2013.

We have two versions (two different covers) - black vinyl or multicolor, limited, hand nubered (111 copies) vinyl.

Two years after the well-received compilation "Nebula," Himalaya Collective (probably the largest team of beatmakers in Poland) returns with another release. This time the Himalayan section of 24 producers (and some exceptional guests from outside the collective) will take us on a journey into the skies. On "Latawce" (which means "Kites" in English), we will hear 24 tracks with one goal in mind - to allow a maximum two-minute flight. The premiere (not accidentally) will take place on the 1st day of summer.

The sound of each Kite has been colored thanks to the excellent mastering done by Eprom. The album's vinyl version was made in two options and with two different covers. @Eloprzemi is responsible for the design of the classic version, and the cover of the limited surprise vinyl was designed by Gbur. The limited edition is hand-numbered (111 copies), and the surprise is worth emphasizing the different colors of each vinyl! Crazy Action! Great album! The perfect soundtrack for the summer holidays 2022!

Just by looking at the line-up of this release you can say ''What a French confiture!'' - and you'll be right! This time Deeppa invite you to dive into the music of the modern French house scene, to touch its soul, its ''douce vie'', full of ''french kisses'' and love.

Belgian instrumentalists Glass Museum have found the perfect balance between piano and drums, where jazz and electronics collide, uniting the surgical precision of the best contemporary jazz, à la Gogo Penguin and Badbadnotgood, with the electronic influences of Jon Hopkins or Floating Points.

In motion since 2016, the duo consisting of keyboardist Antoine Flipo and drummer Martin Grégoire, have a rich history written around a powerful connection to duality. From the initial impact of the 'Deux' EP in 2018, to the synthetic and organic textures of the critically acclaimed 2020 album 'Reykjavik', Glass Museum has found its balance in symmetry.

Released 29th April via the groove-obsessed Sdban Ultra label, 'Reflet' was born out of a desire for freedom, a wish to innovate and travel differently. This new piece stands out as an artistic climax crafted at the crossroads of time and genres, an electronic proposition wrought by two brave hearts, tempered by the organic reflections delivered through computer free melodies. An album which places the human at the core of its compositions and in order to return to a more instinctive and instantaneous means of creation, the duo retreated to a secret location in one of the most remote parts of the Ardennes. It's there, in the shade of spruces, that the album was first born.

Extremely cinematographic, 'Reflet' delivers a panoramic view point: jazz, breakbeat, minimal techno and deep house, collide on neo classical grounds. From the dynamic instrumentation of album opener 'Caillebotis' to the absorbing oscillations of 'Shiitake' and grand gestures of the album title track, 'Reflet' is an odyssey running through troubled times, an ode to night time, to life, dreams and to all rhythms that convey emotions beyond words. Like its immersive creative process, the album offers a counterpoint and, above all, endless perspectives. Elsewhere, the pulsing, melodic 'Auburn' and entrancing electronic textures of 'Opal Sequences' continue the exploration before the strutting 'Kendama' showcases the electronic sensibilities that are buried within their productions.

Shining as a true instrumental tour de force, 'Reflet' also takes inspiration from the progress of the Ohme Collective. At the crossroads of art disciplines, science, new technologies and societal challenges, this creative community draws the future of visual arts and created the album artwork for this resolutely futuristic album.

Having initially won the opportunity to perform at the Dour Festival, Tournai back in 2016, Glass Museum have picked up a series of awards and distinctions back home in their homeland and they now find themselves dining at the top table of Europe's contemporary music scene. The international music scene opened itself to the band once again in 2019, with the duo performing at Elb Jazz in Hamburg, the legendary Ancienne Belgique in Brussels and the Iceland Airwaves Festival, Reykjavik.

In 2020, Glass Museum distinguished themselves by remixing a track for electronic artist, Rone. Having recently received a César Award for his soundtrack to the Jacques Audiard film, Les Olympiades, the French producer called on the Brussels duo's know-how - a mark of confidence which once again underlines the international reach of Glass Museum. Germany, Iceland, Turkey, Romania, Greece, France or Czech Republic have already approved Glass Museum's singular recipe.

Los Angeles-based visual artist and musician Lionel Williams was born
and raised in a family of musicians - he is the grandson of soundtrack
composer John Williams
Since 2010, he has been releasing music as Vinyl Williams. After three albums
released on No Pain In Pop (Lemniscate, 2012) and Chaz Bundick’s Company
(Into, 2015 and Brunei, 2016), Vinyl Williams joined French label Requiem Pour Un
Twister for his fourth album Opal released in 2018. Throughout his art, both
musical and visual, Lionel Williams explores the syncretistic territory between
reality and dreams, between earth and space. “Music is a chance to transmute
qualitative opposites into the center, to dissolve all illusions of duality”, he says.
Since chaos and disorder are an illusion, Vinyl Williams is trying to reach a new
state of celestial harmony on Opal. The result is an album fueled with mysticism
and space age utopia, ten kaleidoscopic lush pop songs that takes you into a
transcendental journey on an opal marbled vinyl limited to 500 copies.

EAT is the brand new album from your favourite rapper trumpeter, Pan Amsterdam. Made with fans of both food and hip hop in mind, the LP opens up a new pocket in the Pan Am dimension: the rapper-producer album. The whole thing’s a collaboration with underground legend and Def Pressé family Damu The Fudgemunk.

EAT lands in the wake of the success of Pan Am’s second album, HA Chu. Food, of course, was a vital component in the culture of that work, with GUTS-produced single Carrot Cake receiving plaudits from the likes of BBC 6 Music, and interludes taking place over Chinese food. HA Chu was named his ‘hostile industry diss record’ by Bandcamp and ‘a jazz musician’s vision of what hip-hop can be’ by The Times.

Whereas HA Chu was conceptualised while Pan Am’s real life alter ego Leron Thomas was on tour as Iggy Pop’s bandleader (Iggy had loved Pan Am’s debut LP, The Pocket Watch, leading to him asking him to write and produce his 2019 album Free), and saw guests such as Sleaford Mods’ Jason Williamson and Doves’ Jimmy Goodwin in his El Diablo guise, EAT’s genesis was slightly different.

About to fly on tour in Europe last year, Pan Am was in need of a DJ. Up steps Damu The Fudgemunk, fresh from creating his KPM library-sampling opus Conversation Peace (on Def Pressé Editions). Tour life led to a mutual musical respect, Damu creating soundscapes in his head as he got to know Pan Am’s intricacies whilst performing together.

‘We had some good hangs and talks,’ recalls Pan Am. ‘In those hangs and talks, it seems Damu was taking musical notes because the music he would give me was fitting like a glove. It reminded me that artists be observant and it pays off in the end. Damn fun making this project.’

Perceiving the world in terms of taste, EAT is musically wistfully joyous and lyrically playful, a full menu with Pan Am your maître d' and Damu the chef du cuisine. Damu’s beats are deep, warm, melodic and progressive, a perfect playground for the duality of Pan Am’s beat poetry and Leron’s caressing trumpet, which as always is a persona in itself.

EAT is the brand new album from your favourite rapper trumpeter, Pan Amsterdam. Made with fans of both food and hip hop in mind, the LP opens up a new pocket in the Pan Am dimension: the rapper-producer album. The whole thing’s a collaboration with underground legend and Def Pressé family Damu The Fudgemunk.

EAT lands in the wake of the success of Pan Am’s second album, HA Chu. Food, of course, was a vital component in the culture of that work, with GUTS-produced single Carrot Cake receiving plaudits from the likes of BBC 6 Music, and interludes taking place over Chinese food. HA Chu was named his ‘hostile industry diss record’ by Bandcamp and ‘a jazz musician’s vision of what hip-hop can be’ by The Times.

Whereas HA Chu was conceptualised while Pan Am’s real life alter ego Leron Thomas was on tour as Iggy Pop’s bandleader (Iggy had loved Pan Am’s debut LP, The Pocket Watch, leading to him asking him to write and produce his 2019 album Free), and saw guests such as Sleaford Mods’ Jason Williamson and Doves’ Jimmy Goodwin in his El Diablo guise, EAT’s genesis was slightly different.

About to fly on tour in Europe last year, Pan Am was in need of a DJ. Up steps Damu The Fudgemunk, fresh from creating his KPM library-sampling opus Conversation Peace (on Def Pressé Editions). Tour life led to a mutual musical respect, Damu creating soundscapes in his head as he got to know Pan Am’s intricacies whilst performing together.

‘We had some good hangs and talks,’ recalls Pan Am. ‘In those hangs and talks, it seems Damu was taking musical notes because the music he would give me was fitting like a glove. It reminded me that artists be observant and it pays off in the end. Damn fun making this project.’

Perceiving the world in terms of taste, EAT is musically wistfully joyous and lyrically playful, a full menu with Pan Am your maître d' and Damu the chef du cuisine. Damu’s beats are deep, warm, melodic and progressive, a perfect playground for the duality of Pan Am’s beat poetry and Leron’s caressing trumpet, which as always is a persona in itself.

Finally the 4th volume of "The Encyclopedia of Civilizations" is here! This time it is not a split LP, but a collaboration. Modular synth maestro M. Geddes Gengras and left-field pop priestess Leyna Noel aka Psychic Reality join forces to compose together their new project inspired by Zoroaster: M.Goddess. An exquisite modern ambient record mixing leftfield, kosmische, new age, dub vibes... Very original and rich compositions with genius arrangements combining spacey synth sequences, dreamy guitars, modular sounds, weird rhythms... Along the lines of Craig Leon, Conrad Schnitzler, or the Mecánica Clásica's contemporary approach to the kosmische masters. "Zoroastrianism is an ancient religion that is still actively practiced today by a small population of people worldwide and has had a massive influence on western culture. Many things that appear to be integral to western thinking (and thus “wholesome”) indeed have their roots in ancient Iran. Dualities such as good and evil, light and dark, heaven and hell—even paradise is an old Persian word. For this project, we are exploring this Zoroaster moment—set in the bread basket of the Iranian plateau, six to seven millennia before the Common Era—that’s like a cross-fade. The fading of goddess worship and the first strains of the patriarchy. Not the -ism of today’s still-living religion, but the moment when this man Zoroaster came along and created a new religion that centred one god instead of the many. Forcing the divine feminine underground, if not fully occulted, obscured and engulfed into the mainstream enough to be forgotten. Goddesses that before had their own dedicated cults were converted into lesser players. We’re reviving those flames too."

repressed !

In Order To Understand Waajeed's Artistic Profile, It Helps To Look At The Musical History Which Informs It. As A Child Of Detroit Who Grew Up Just As Encapsulated By Hip-hop And Soul As He Was Techno And House, He Is Driven By A Commitment To Finding The Sweet Spot Between These Paradigms. In A City Full Of Dualities, His Productions Are Underpinned By An Inherent Awareness Of Both Sides Of The Coin. 'growing Up In The D, I Spent Monday Thru Thursday In The Studio With Slum Village. Friday And Saturday Nights We Partied All Night To Techno And Early Sunday Morning I Went To Church With My Pastor. This Is What I Sound Like. This Is The Sound Of Detroit. This Is From The Dirt.'

“Whoever gives nothing, has nothing; the greatest misfortune is not to be unloved, but not to love “ - Albert Camus

Cristian Marras - OCD - JoeFarr - Codex Empire

After a massive 30-tracks digital compilation celebrating a decade of existence, Gegen keeps moving forward with the release of their third vinyl record.

Starting it off is Berlin-based Cristian Marras: DJ, Producer and Rebels Conspiracy label founder who plays solid driving Industrial Techno and his track for Gegen is no exception. Opening with ethereal chants like a coven calling to arms, Asymmetric sounds like an existential journey from awakening to action, the switch in state of mind materialized by a menacing acid line immerging halfway through, leading us out of darkness.

Next is UK’s JoeFarr, a versatile and skilled craftsman who recently got music out on Soma followed soon by a release on Rebekah’s Elements. His track for Gegen is the bittersweet Timeless, built on the duality between soft emotional hopeful melodies and raw distorted cutting martial basslines and crushing sound design.

On the B side, Berlin’s OCD’s artist statement centered around the ideology of pain and the battle against anxiety caused by a senseless world with the goal to turn people’s fear and information overload into rage and find pleasure from overwhelming emotions in modern rhythms is in full effect on her track Egoismus. With its mournful pads like heartbroken fairies floating above an army on the move and thumping kicks characteristic of her hard sound, OCD brings you into an oneiric state where everything is out of control and too fast — a metaphor for our ages.

To round it all up is British-born, Vienna-based Codex Empire whose productions you might have heard on aufnahme + wiedergabe or Sacred Court. He brings to Gegen his signature dark and intense techno with Hagane, a track built on heavy rhythmic elements and metallic pounding sounds bouncing off each other for an unstoppable groove.

For his very first solo and vinyl EP, the Parisian DJ and producer NTBR offers three energetic, melodic and banging tracks, the whole embellished by a remix from Julian Muller. This EP is also a milestone for Raise Records, the production of its first vinyl, after five projects released in less than a year and a half. With Raise 001, the label launches a new series of solo EPs in order to showcase
Raise Agency artists.

Mastering duality, NTBRs productions balance between two sides, ravy and melodic, raw and subtle. Recognized and played by several artists and promoters in the biggest festivals, NTBR has already been able to perform in many of the leading venues of the European techno scene such as Griessmuehle, Fold, Rex Club and many others.

Precious Metals are excited to announce "Chaos Butterfly", the debut album from the Vietnamese-Canadian electronic music producer, vocalist and filmmaker, x/o. “Chaos Butterfly” is an epic tale of catharsis and self-actualization explored through metamorphosis. It is a free-falling kaleidoscopic journey into a beautiful nightmare, both cataclysmic and tender. Expanding on the themes present in their first EP “Cocoon Egg”, the album builds a parallel world from a different perspective. “Chaos Butterfly” tells a loose narrative about an anti-hero navigating trauma through whirlwinds of grief and anger; a vengeful spirit who finds true strength in inner healing and forgiveness. An allegory for transcending societal concepts of gender, “Chaos Butterfly” is a journey of self-acceptance and reflection of x/o’s own path towards their non-binary identity. Throughout the voyage, x/o pulls apart and collides masculine and feminine tropes both theoretically and musically by utilising contrasts between soft and hard, internal and external, calmness and anger, loud and quiet. This system of symbolism and influences reveal a pattern that is the overarching theme of duality. Colliding disparate but interconnected influences, x/o references Playstation 2’s Final Fantasy X world-building, Fight Club, the half-yoma warriors in the anime Claymore, as well as the real legends of the Vietnamese Trưng Sisters. Musically, “Chaos Butterfly” resists easy categorisation, playfully fusing moments of reversed breakbeat, with elements of solemn ambience, distorted metal, and trip-hop catharsis, with inspiration from artists such as Yoko Kanno, to Bone Thugs-n-Harmony as well as Deftones, Massive Attack, Orbital, and Aaliyah. The album journey begins with opener “Chrysalis Wrath”, a prologue to the story, and emblematic of the metamorphosis of the album. A soft and unassuming exterior to the hard shell and bone that lies beneath. Delicately cascading melodies and disembodied vocals are torn asunder by a brooding, ominous synth, punctuated by blasts of percussion, like dark clouds forming on the horizon, the egg cracks; a foretelling of what is to come and a reference to what has been. This is followed by “Red Alert,” the first single from the release, which blends airy melancholic vocals with a flurry of drum breaks and synths plucks, an ambitious and cinematic exploration of intuition against recurring trauma. Melodies drifting and out of focus under the swirling vocal, like the blur of neon street lights reflecting in a rain-soaked cityscape. It’s a liminal poem about listening to your inner voice to protect you from harm. Duality is never more apparent than on “Promise : Armour” delicate piano melodies drift and settle like snowfall before crushing blows of hardstyle kicks blast through the ether, as their soulful, but anguished vocal harmony is overcome by a demonic refrain “Cross your heart, don’t cross me”. x/o is a founding member of s.M.i.L.e, a trail-blazing collective of like-minded artists in Vancouver pushing the boundaries of club experimentation, showcasing artists such as Actress, Hitmakerchinx, Mechatok, Nídia, and Shygirl. This is an album that reaches dizzying heights, and in 2022 we expect x/o to do the exact same.

New limited pressing on Zombie Green Vinyl. Suck My Shirt is the fourth studio album by the Atlanta-based all-female punk rock band The Coathangers. It was released in 2014. Mark Deming of AllMusic writes, 'their approach to songcraft has matured and tightened up quite a bit, and the departure of keyboard player Candice Jones has turned this group into a leaner and meaner three piece. "It's a balance between overthinking and just going for it," guitarist Crook Kid (Julia Kugel) says of their songwriting strategy. It's a duality immediately apparent with the album opener "Follow Me." It's a classic Coathangers tune with Stephanie Luke's raspy vocals belted out over their signature ragged garage-rock. . But the chorus opens into one of the most accessible hooks in the band's canon, just before segueing into the next verse with a squall of violent dissonant guitar.

LNDFK (aka Linda Feki) presents her ground-breaking debut album, "Kuni" on Brooklyn-based Bastard Jazz Recordings. Undeniably on the rise after her 2019 breakout performance at Primavera Sound, LNDFK has already caught the attention of Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Clash Magazine, Noisey, and Brooklyn Vegan (among many others) while being championed by the likes of Gilles Peterson, Tom Ravenscroft, and Jamz Supernova & landing spots on tastemaker playlists like Spotify's "Pollen" and "Fresh Finds."

"Kuni" is a spellbinding exploration of dichotomies: Love & Death (Eros & Thanatos), Flower & Fire, Delicacy & Violence, Poetry & Realism, Purification & Destruction. These opposites are reified in the 10-track LPs multifarious and multifaceted sounds, elegantly meandering through a variety of styles and genres, spearheaded by Linda and features the production wizardry of Darrio Bassolino who co-wrote the album.

"Kuni" opens with "Hana-bi," an ambient instrumental piece that sets the tone for the album. Inspired by the Takeshi Kitano 1997 film of the same name – particularly Joe Hisaishi's stunning soundtrack, as well as Kitano's paintings which appear in the film. "Hana-bi" expresses the dialoguing opposites of flowers and fire, the first of many dichotomous representations throughout the album. "Takeshi" acts as an extension and to "Hana-bi," albeit one of opposing sound, with its driving, highly syncopated drums (which reappear throughout "Kuni") – à la Karriem Riggins, Questlove, or Yussef Dayes – frenetic bass line, and jazz chords. Linda's sultry voice is interspersed, initially jumping around in scat fashion, being triggered as if a sample, before her lyrics come in; her vocals are used like an additional instrument, adding to the song's rich texture. "Kuni" truly hits its stride with the next song, "Smoke – a moon or a button" (its title lifted from the 1959 book by Ruth Krauss and Remy Charlip), which is structured like a jazz standard yet flows into neo-soul territory sonically with those prodigious drums a highlight once again.

LNDFK touches on experimental hip hop in two songs on the record (both of which were released as singles in 2021): "Don't Know I'm Dead or Not (feat. Chester Watson)" – track #4 – and "How Do We Know We're Alive (feat. Pink Siifu)" – track #9. Although they embrace a more hip hop-leaning sound, these songs by no means shy away from the exploratory theme, and feature two of the alt-rap scenes rising stars with Chester Watson and Pink Siifu who offer provocatively impressing verses, combining dense word play with unconventional flows. While these tracks may first appear to be outliers on the album, they are undeniably in tune with "Kuni's" message and sonic palette, acting as testaments to LNDFK's willingness to explore and experiment.

Meanwhile, "Ku" – the third and last single before the album release – furthers the pre-established future soul sound while meandering through nu jazz and left-field electronic. Inspired by the graphic novel and film, "Sin City," and its female assassin protagonist Miho, "Ku" is a musical interpretation of Miho's story, incorporating both her beauty – the first half of the song – and murderous tendencies – the second half – to create a stunning juxtaposition, culminating in an ambient finale that suggests the character's vulnerability and inner peace. The song gracefully bridges the gap between Hiatus Kaiyote-esque songwriting, Dilla's rhythmic syncopation, and Thundercat's instrumental prowess (LNDFK has shared a stage Brainfeeder labelmate Kamasi Washington).

Mixed in throughout "Kuni" are a series of instrumental pieces that function as something akin to an interlude. The aforementioned intro, "Hana-bi," and the album closer "se mi stacco da te, mi strappo tutto:" act as bookends, while "Om" indicates the half-way mark, and "Ktm" sees Jason Lindner add his sound the album. These tracks are the ambient foundation of "Kuni," representing the thematic duality of the work. Clocking in at only 24 minutes, "Kuni" packs an astonishingly diverse array of sounds, styles, and themes, all while showcasing virtuosic musicianship and instrumental prowess.

Appearing on "Hana-bi" and "Ktm," renowned international artists Asa-Chang and Jason Lindner add an additional perspective to "Kuni": Asa-Chang on "Hana-bi," and Jason Lindner on "Ktm." Asa-Chang - famously of the Japanese avant-garde group Asa-Chang & Junray - provides vocals and percussion to an alternate version of the instrumental opener, while the acclaimed keyboardist Jason Lindner offers his synth expertise on "Ktm." These features highlight the spirit of collaboration found in LNDFK's music, always willing to try out new ways of working.

LNDFK is a singer and songwriter, born of two cultures – an Italian mother and Arab father. She grew up in Naples, away from her father, the Sahara, her homeland and traditions, which has helped nourish the desire to rediscover – through art – an engagement to her roots. Her music melts with jazz, neo-soul and hip-hop influences, filtered through her experiences and sensibility.

Her first EP, "Lust Blue," was composed with the artistic production of Dario Bass and released by Feelin' Music; after that she released several singles that saw international radio support (BBC, NTS, Wordwide FM) and gained a massive audience on digital platforms. Together with her band, she toured around Europe, performing alongside such notable artists as Kamasi Washington and Mndsgn, among others. Most recently she toured Italy, and performed at Primavera Sound Festival 2019 in Barcelona.

"Kuni," is due out on NYC label Bastard Jazz Recordings in February, 2022, while the vinyl LP will follow shortly after.

French artist Trudge returns to Lobster Theremin with his debut LP No More Motivation arriving on March 18th with a genre-bending and original masterstroke; charged as it is cerebral. The album's concept points to the artist's tumultuous relationship with music; plagued by life events and the looming shadow of tragedy. That same relationship however, has led to an album of nuance, a cathartic whirlwind that pushes and pulls from one part of the psyche to the next.

From the laden house sounds found in his earlier work, to the hard-hitting emotive techno we hear today, both Trudges’ personal and artistic evolution runs parallel, drawing between the lines of introspection and dance music’s modern functionality. Bangkok Radio kicks off proceedings with a reminiscent drive through the city's bustling landscape, as space unfolds the further we travel from the hustle and bustle of daily life. No Motivation, Meaningless is a nod to the producer's headspace - burdened by the unpredictability of reality and it’s governing influence on art; echoing throughout the entire album.

Mazzomba explores the duality of light and dark; heavily submerged sounds can be heard melting below the surface, as airy synths create an ethereal glow - acting as our torch through the crud-infested trench. The album's interlude Berserk provides a rest bite, an ambient dreamscape laced with deeply layered textures - casting warm fluorescent light amongst the clouds as balance is restored.

Dead Orange and Gradient demonstrate the artist's knact for intelligent sound-design and world-building soundscapes, while Unghosted and Punishments sees Trudge venture into raw and unwavering compositions created for the dance-floor. Closing the album is Blue Ritual, a thought-provoking piece that has the ability to transport and heal. It’s introspective layers point to the changing winds to come - rounding off an album not binded by genre, but an eclecticism that characterizes an artist true to his craft.

Meaning all things magick and supernatural, the root of the word occult is that which is hidden, concealed, beyond the limits of our minds. If this is occult, then the Occult Architecture of Moon Duo’s fourth album - a psychedelic opus in two separate volumes released in 2017 - is an intricately woven hymn to the invisible structures found in the cycle of seasons and the journey of day into night, dark into light.

Offering a cosmic glimpse into the hidden patterning embedded in everything, Occult Architecture reflects the harmonious duality of these light and dark ener¬gies through the Chinese theory of Yin and Yang.

In Chinese, Yin means “the shady side of the hill” and is associated with the feminine, darkness, night, earth. Following this logic, Vol. 1 embraces and embod¬ies Moon Duo’s darker qualities — released appropriately on February 3, in the heart of winter in the Northern Hemisphere.

According to guitarist Ripley Johnson, “the concept of the dark/light, two-part album came as we were recording and mixing the songs, beginning in the dead of winter and continuing into the rebirth and blossoming of the spring. There’s something really powerful about the changing of the seasons in the Northwest, the physical and psychic impact it has on you, especially after we spent so many years in the seasonal void of California. I became interested in gnostic and her¬metic literature around that time, especially the relationship between music and occult qualities and that fed into the whole vibe.”

Adds keyboardist Sanae Yamada, “the two parts are also intended to represent inverted components of a singular entity, like two faces on the same head which stare always in opposite directions but are inextricably driven by the same brain.”

Meaning all things magic and supernatural, the root of the word occult is that which is hidden, concealed, beyond the limits of our minds. If this is occult, then the Occult Architecture of Moon Duo’s fourth album - a psychedelic opus in two separate volumes released in 2017 is an intricately woven hymn to the invisible structures found in the cycle of seasons and the journey of day into night, dark into light.

Offering a cosmic glimpse into the hidden patterning embedded in everything, Occult Architecture reflects the harmonious duality of these light and dark energies through the Chinese theory of Yin and Yang.

Following the Yin (feminine, darkness, night, earth) represented on Occult Architecture Vol. 1, Vol. 2 presents the Yang. Yang means “the bright side of the hill” and is associated with the male, sun, light and the spirit of heaven, and as such Vol. 2 explores the light and airy elements of Moon Duo’s complex psyche.

“In production we referred to Vol. 1 as the fuzz dungeon, and Vol. 2 as the crystal palace,” guitarist Ripley Johnson explains. “The darkness of Vol. 1 gave birth to the light of Vol. 2. We had to have both elements in order to complete the cycle. We’re releasing them separately to allow them their own space, and to ensure clarity of vision. To that end we also mixed Vol. 2 separately, in the height of Portland summer, focusing on its sonic qualities of lightness, air, and sun. Listeners can ultimately use the two volumes individually or together, depending on circumstance or the desired effect.”