Search:dusty fingers

'Come Into My Life' is a deep vocal house spine-tingler from Nathalie Capello and Rose Lonegran that is the subject of three separate remix EPs on Jus-Ed's top drawer Underground Quality label. This one begins with German house head Damiano Van Erckert layering in some humid chord work, before Reggie Dokes's Jazzy Adlib has fingers dancing nimbly across the piano keys to bring a brighter sound and Machillado's House Again remix is pulled apart and rebuilt as a rough-edged and dusty beatdown. Kossi Emmanuel keeps things bouncy and chord-laced for the ultimate soulful release.

Canada's Demuir makes house music with the sort of feeling and character that defined the earliest days of the sound. Gospel, funk, jazz and much more all colour his grooves next to a superb array of samples, and all of that is on display across The Intersecting Virtues Of Love & Respect, a new album packed with jams. 'TIVLR - Moment Of Clarity has neat organ chords worked into a soulful, dusty groove; there is an infectious bubble to the drums and molten chords of 'Alone In Chicago' and 'Somethin 'Bout Respect' is smooth, free-flowing analogue house with jazzy fingers dancing across the keys. Elsewhere, 'Know They Value' is deeper and more heads down and 'Speak Power To Your (Black) Man' is a freewheeling and sunny sound anchored by more trademark Demuir drums.

La Rama’s club ready sub-label RamaJam is back after a long stretch with 6x new traxx for the dance. Introducing for the first time on record, two Montréal duos that have been rocking the city for the last few years.

The Wet Steppahz are Boogaloo Jones & Pitza Dave, young producers extraordinaire, engineers at local studio Breakglass, live PA performers and organizers of the 140/160 party series. You can also find Boogaloo every weekend laying it down with the Fella’s Q-Tips & Curls crews. Young guns on the come up, be sure to follow their label STEPPATRAXX for some hot fire.

DAPASHU? is the meeting of veteran producer Shash’U & long time local DJ, promoter and studio fiend Dapapa. A quick lookup on Shash’U will have you inundated with originals and versions for you to drop at any jam. A mainstay at dance competitions, a regular feature of institution Loop Sessions, and always ready to share a tip from his production tool kit. Dapapa gets busy on the regular at venues around the city & heads both the Ol’Jack Nu Jack organization and DASA (a Montréal production suite bridging local and international likeminded artists). A fellow who takes no tune for granted.

Musically we make it easy, 3 cuts per side, representing each crew’s essence. No need to describe each tune, listen in and take notes on the mood + we laced you with those BPMs on the label so you can throw them in to the mix at any moment, no stress!

Mastered and cut in the city by our man Cristobal Urbina. Pressed in Canada & distributed from our brick and mortar shop located at 77 rue Bernard O, Montréal QC, H2T 2J9.

PS Props: These tunes were selected from recordings of the Steppahz and DAPASHU? playing live for a Seer Records party at Osmo x Marusan in April 2024… Big shout out to Emiliano & Maximum Enemi <3

For the 7th release Theory Of Swing welcomes the French duo Groove Boys Project to join the catalogue with their “The Manhattan Soul EP “. Lucas and Alexandre are two talented and devoted guys towards the 90’s house sound. In collaboration with some of their mates Rawaï and Dusty Fingers they created this pure NY house 4 tracker EP that respect at full the concept of the label. “Bring back that magic feel “ .

Written and Produced in the Parisian "Studio 937"and Mastered from St. David at "TOW Records Studio".

UK producer Tom Carruthers returns with a scorching 5-tracker for Skylax Records, diving headfirst into the primal roots of jackin’ house, proto-italo, and early machine funk. Known for his raw MPC-driven grooves on L.I.E.S., Clone Jack For Daze, Syncrophone, and Craigie Knowes, Carruthers channels the energy of the underground circa ’86—pure drum machine soul for the dancefloor faithful. Side A kicks off with the title track “Neutralise”, all sharp snares, warped synths and hypnotic repetition—a jack track in the truest sense. “Deep North” follows with ghostly pads and relentless drum programming, while “No More” brings metallic tension and stripped-down funk with a heavy nod to Chicago’s original blueprints. On the flip, “Pascals” weaves cosmic arps through rugged percussion, merging italo sensuality with bleep-era minimalism. The closer, “Cosmic Ride”, is exactly that: a journey through spacey chords, dusty rhythm boxes, and that unmistakable feeling of warehouse euphoria at 4 a.m. Neutralise EP is a raw, timeless record that strips dance music down to its essence—jacking, emotional, physical. To match the sonic purity and timeless aesthetic of the release, we enlisted the iconic H5 studio—a name synonymous with visionary design in music and culture. Known for their groundbreaking work with Daft Punk, YSL, and numerous award-winning visual campaigns, H5 brings a level of artistic sophistication that elevates this EP into a complete sensory object. Their clean, modernist design echoes the stripped yet futuristic vibe of Tom Carruthers’ sound—a perfect fusion of form and function, underground and high art. Vinyl only. No digital. No compromise. For fans of: Virgo Four, Baby Ford, Larry Heard, early Warp, Mr. Fingers, and Beppe Loda.

Jim Jarmusch und Anika haben sich zum ersten Mal 2022 bei der Feier zum 15-jährigen Jubiläum von Sacred Bones getroffen, wo sowohl Anika als auch SQÜRL aufgetreten sind. Jim war sofort von Anikas Auftritt beeindruckt, während Anika Jim als Mentor bewunderte, der seiner einzigartigen Vision während seiner ganzen Karriere treu geblieben ist. Dieser gegenseitige Respekt führte zu einer kreativen Zusammenarbeit, die in dem eindringlichen Soundtrack für Jarmuschs Film Father Mother Sister Brother gipfelte. Jim lud Anika zunächst ein, eine Coverversion von Jackson Brownes ,These Days" aufzunehmen, inspiriert von Nicos legendärer Version. Dieser von Anika arrangierte Track wurde in Berlin mit dem Streichquartett Kaleidoskop aufgenommen und erscheint als Bonustrack auf dem Album unter dem Titel ,These Days (Berlin Version)". Später mischte Jim eine minimalistischere Version des Songs und fügte mehrere E-Gitarren-Tracks hinzu. Während seines Aufenthalts in Berlin verriet Jim Anika, dass der einzige bereits existierende Track im Film ,Spooky" von Dusty Springfield sein würde. Anika, die eine Live-Version davon gespielt hatte, schlug vor, dass sie ihn covern sollten. Die reduzierte Version, die sie nur mit Gesang, Kontrabass, Fingerschnipsen und einem verzerrten Orgelriff kreierten, wurde als Song für den Abspann des Films ausgewählt. Abgesehen von diesen Coverversionen entstand ein Großteil der Filmmusik aus Improvisationen. Jim und Anika verbrachten Stunden damit, gemeinsam zu improvisieren, was zu einer zweiten Aufnahmerunde in Berlin führte, wo Anika Wurlitzer und E-Gitarre spielte und Jim mit verzerrten E-Gitarren beitrug. Nach ihrer Rückkehr nach New York formte Jim diese Aufnahmen zu kurzen, stimmungsvollen Instrumentalstücken, die zur Filmmusik wurden. Die letzten Feinheiten wurden während eines gemeinsamen Aufenthalts von Jim und Anika in Paris im Centre Pompidou fertiggestellt. Die Musik für ,Father Mother Sister Brother" ist eine experimentelle, kollaborative Klanglandschaft, die nicht darauf ausgelegt ist, sich um eine einzelne Figur zu drehen oder diese zu definieren. Stattdessen ist sie atmosphärisch, wie die Luft, die die Figuren unsichtbar umgibt.

Jim Jarmusch und Anika haben sich zum ersten Mal 2022 bei der Feier zum 15-jährigen Jubiläum von Sacred Bones getroffen, wo sowohl Anika als auch SQÜRL aufgetreten sind. Jim war sofort von Anikas Auftritt beeindruckt, während Anika Jim als Mentor bewunderte, der seiner einzigartigen Vision während seiner ganzen Karriere treu geblieben ist. Dieser gegenseitige Respekt führte zu einer kreativen Zusammenarbeit, die in dem eindringlichen Soundtrack für Jarmuschs Film Father Mother Sister Brother gipfelte. Jim lud Anika zunächst ein, eine Coverversion von Jackson Brownes ,These Days" aufzunehmen, inspiriert von Nicos legendärer Version. Dieser von Anika arrangierte Track wurde in Berlin mit dem Streichquartett Kaleidoskop aufgenommen und erscheint als Bonustrack auf dem Album unter dem Titel ,These Days (Berlin Version)". Später mischte Jim eine minimalistischere Version des Songs und fügte mehrere E-Gitarren-Tracks hinzu. Während seines Aufenthalts in Berlin verriet Jim Anika, dass der einzige bereits existierende Track im Film ,Spooky" von Dusty Springfield sein würde. Anika, die eine Live-Version davon gespielt hatte, schlug vor, dass sie ihn covern sollten. Die reduzierte Version, die sie nur mit Gesang, Kontrabass, Fingerschnipsen und einem verzerrten Orgelriff kreierten, wurde als Song für den Abspann des Films ausgewählt. Abgesehen von diesen Coverversionen entstand ein Großteil der Filmmusik aus Improvisationen. Jim und Anika verbrachten Stunden damit, gemeinsam zu improvisieren, was zu einer zweiten Aufnahmerunde in Berlin führte, wo Anika Wurlitzer und E-Gitarre spielte und Jim mit verzerrten E-Gitarren beitrug. Nach ihrer Rückkehr nach New York formte Jim diese Aufnahmen zu kurzen, stimmungsvollen Instrumentalstücken, die zur Filmmusik wurden. Die letzten Feinheiten wurden während eines gemeinsamen Aufenthalts von Jim und Anika in Paris im Centre Pompidou fertiggestellt. Die Musik für ,Father Mother Sister Brother" ist eine experimentelle, kollaborative Klanglandschaft, die nicht darauf ausgelegt ist, sich um eine einzelne Figur zu drehen oder diese zu definieren. Stattdessen ist sie atmosphärisch, wie die Luft, die die Figuren unsichtbar umgibt.

Jugoton Funk is back with a second instalment gone funkier and crazier than before - now capturing even the early 80s disco and folk decadence occurring after Tito’s death. Jugoton, the Yugoslavian discography leader by all standards, still incites our inspiration and keeps our fingers dusty for more beats, soul and jazz presented here in equal proportion. From unreleased Jugoton associated numbers by Spektar and breakbeat bombshell classics like Zlatokosa to early Yugoslavian Soul Finger renditions and groovy jazz infusions from Josipa Lisac - this compilation rounds it all up. Enjoy it while we take another 5 years to get to Vol.3.

"Chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams..."

December 25th, 2023 - an Instagram post. Stimulator Jones shared half a dozen FIRE tracks from his beat tape archive. We were immediately drawn to the rough hewn boom bap.

"I'd release that", Rob commented.

Hours of material was shared and the result is this: Cool Green Trees (1999-2005). A collection of beats and loops Stimulator Jones created between the ages of 14-20 at home in his basement, bedroom and computer room in Roanoke, Virginia.

You will not believe the profound soulful genius contained within these naive schoolboy melodies.

December 25th, 1998 - 25 years ago to the day and his much-coveted Yamaha SU10 sampler was finally bestowed upon young Stimmy AKA Sam Lunsford: "I immediately hooked up a CD Walkman to the input jack and looped the beginning two bars of Grover Washington Jr.'s "Mercy Mercy Me". I don't know what exactly was so thrilling about hearing two measures of music repeating over and over but it was so infectious and hypnotizing and enthralling to me. I'll never forget that ecstatic rush of making my first loop - an uncontrollable, gleeful smile plastered all over my face." When you hear the pocket breakbeat symphonies featured here on Cool Green Trees, you'll feel the same sense of frisson.

In the wake of his Stones Throw breakthrough - Exotic Worlds & Master Treasures - Stimulator Jones was pegged by many as a 90s throwback artist. However, he literally IS a 90s artist. He's been recording music most of his life and he's now 40. He created the bulk of Cool Green Trees as a teenager. Everything before 2004 was recorded when Sam was still in school. He was in 8th grade when he made the 1999 tracks - he didn't even have his learner's permit. This album is a snapshot of a young man in a simpler time. Things were still mysterious back then and he was flying blind, relying on his ears and having to figure things out for himself: "I had no road map for becoming a beatmaker. I have been collecting music since I was a kid, I am a lifelong digger and seeker of cool and interesting sounds. I was there in the golden age of Hip Hop, and while I may have been a suburban white kid in Roanoke, Virginia, I was tuned in and I bought so many classic albums when they came out. I was attracted to Hip Hop because of the musical and poetic quality. I was hypnotized by the rhythms, partially because I was a drummer. I didn't brag about collecting my breakbeat records or making beats - it was something I did in isolation. It wasn't something I generally wanted to bring attention to and it didn't really score me any cool points. I certainly wasn't flexing on social media about it."

Hell, he can do that now!

Opener "Pharoah Jones" was inspired by Yesterday's New Quintet and Madlib's ability to capture that classic 70s sound whilst playing all the instruments. Sam created this one stoned afternoon by laying down a 2 bar loop and a shaker loop on his Yamaha SU700 sampler. He hung a microphone from the ceiling and played his Yamaha Stage Custom drum kit over the top before adding ender Rhodes and playing his dad's Selmer tenor sax through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. Yes! Up next, "Ghost Gospel" utilises a dope loop from a gospel record and adds some soul-funk drums overtop, whilst working that filter knob. Says Sam: "The loop reminded me of something Ghostface would rap over. The sample was in 3/4 waltz time but I flipped it for a 4/4 groove, a technique I picked up from RZA. "Ill Feeling" uses sped-up pieces from a dusty old funk record and putting them over a classic NOLA drum loop; gain chopping up a slow, bluesy 3/4 time signature and bending it to a 4/4 groove. Classy shit. "Capital Punishment" features drums tapped in live, inspired by MF Doom's Special Herbs series. "Do Not Adjust" consists loops found on a compilation of 70s French music at Happy's Flea Market, a classic Roanoke digging spot.

The sublime, evocative title track, "Cool Green Trees" was created when Sam was still living at home. He dumped samples off his SU10 into the family desktop and arranged them in a demo version of Pro Tools: "This track was sort of my ode to the DJ Shadow style of sample based production. Super spacey, slow, and moody. The heavily filtered drums were inspired by Alec Empire's 'Low on Ice' album. I later added some scratches and sounds from a Spider Man storybook record." "Chill Scratch" snags the final bit of a bossanova record and pairs it with a drum loop before adding experimental scratching run through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. "Poisonous Fumes" was made using a sampler, mixer and a turntable; a kind of mixtape beat collage with added scratches and sounds from various records. Using dialogue from superhero records was a nod to Madlib. "Welcome Aboard The Starship" is dark, downtempo trip-hop with a spooky bent. Sam paired a slow, hard drum loop with a guitar sample grabbed off a psychedelic rock record. To finish, he added various backwards sounds and weird atmospheric effects and a little scratching. Swoon.

Side B opens with "Keep On Runnin", made on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler. Having always loved the sound of the Lo-Fi filter on those machines, reminiscent of the Emu SP1200, Sam always imagined Del or another of the Hieroglyphics crew rapping over this beat. You can certainly hear why. "Sounds Impossible" sees Sam experimenting with layering multiple kick samples at different volumes to create patterns similar to those heard by Showbiz and Lord Finesse during their God-level 1995 period. "Painted Faces" was made by chopping up a REDACTED record which he had gotten from Happy's Flea Market and paired it with a REDACTED drum loop. By the time Sam recorded "The Knew Style", he had acquired a shitty old 1960s portable turntable off eBay. It didn't function properly when he bought it but his brother opened it up, cleaned it out and got it working: "I remember he told me that there was a bunch of sand inside of it when he opened it up, as if its previous owner had taken it to the beach. I would take that turntable on my Happy's Flea Market digs so I could preview records...that's how I found this loop."

"Chicken Wing Blues Sauce" loops up a classic blues joint and pairs it with some REDACTED drums. A bit of filtering and arranging et voilà! "Kool Breeze", from 1999, is one of Sam's oldest surviving beats, as is "Sexx Bullets". The Roots sampled the same record, leaving Sam frustrated yet vindicated. "Soul Child" was an early SU10 creation, looping a dusty old Soul Children 45 and pairing it with 70s rock drum loops to great effect. "Take Off Runnin" was another loop found digging with a portable turntable. Paired with some boom bap drums it makes for a hypnotic head-nod groove. "Centurian" was intended to be a little beat interlude a la Pete Rock. The sample is from a sun-dappled soft-psych record and it's paired with a Robin Trower drum loop that just happens to fit perfectly. Sometimes you slap things together kind of haphazardly and magic happens. "Bozack" was the first beat Sam made using Pro Tools, his first foray into using chopped sounds instead of loops, an exciting new world. "Church" is beat interlude using a Phil Upchurch loop with the "Long Red" drums - a favourite break of Dilla et al. Sam was really on a tear in late 2004, probably because he was unemployed and phoneless and able to just make beats all day. He made "Splash One" on a borrowed Yamaha SU700 and again was experimenting with tapping the drums in live with his fingers, instead of using a loop or sequenced pattern. Channeling 9th Wonder, Sam used a water splash sound effect from a Batman record as a percussive element, hence the title (also a 13th Floor Elevators reference). The main loop is a backwards portion of one of his favourite Roy Ayers songs.

"Hank" is another fun little beat interlude thing, created on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler with the fantastic Lo-Fi effect that resembled the Emu SP1200 at a fraction of the price. "73 goatee", from 99, is another of his oldest surviving beats, created in his bedroom with his Yamaha SU10 and his brother's Vestax MR-300 4-track recorder: "This one will always feel special. I can remember having a feeling all the way back then on the night that I created it that this was a solid beat with a catchy loop. There was something in the Fender Rhodes melody that resonated with me emotionally, and I had never heard a producer sample that portion before. I felt like I had found my own unique sound, my own unique loop. It came from an Ahmad Jamal '73. I actually even recorded myself rapping and scratching over this beat way back then, I still have that version in all its imperfect sloppy glory."

Sam explains just how much these tracks mean to him: "They all have immense historical and sentimental value and I'm proud of them. These beats come from an innocent, simple time when I was just figuring out how to craft these sounds. They're something very personal to me. They are the initial part of a journey that I really was taking *alone*. There was no YouTube. I couldn't Google shit. I didn't even know any other beatmakers, producers or DJs in my town that could teach me anything. It was always just me, alone, in a room with some equipment - chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams. What I was doing wasn't cool. Most of my peers thought I was a weirdo and couldn't care less. Creating these sounds was an anti-social endeavour. In a sense, I felt like it was me against the world, and all I had to instruct and assist me were the recordings produced by my heroes - RZA, DJ Premier, Erick Sermon, Beatminerz, Showbiz, Diamond D, Beatnuts, Prince Paul, The Bomb Squad, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, E-Swift, Mista Lawnge, DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist, Peanut Butter Wolf, El-P and so many more...I dedicate this collection to them, and to my older brother Joe who has always been a musical and technical guiding light for me.

This was a time before every kid was a self-described producer and beatmaker, before everyone had a DAW, before Kanye and "chipmunk soul", before Red Bull beat battles, before there was any social media beyond chat rooms and AOL Instant Messenger, before Soundcloud, before SP-404 mania, before lo-fi beats to study to, before Splice, before targeted ads for MIDI chord packs, etc. In 99 when I told people that I had a sampler and made beats I was mostly met with bewildered confusion and indifference. Kids and adults alike would wonder why I got this weird machine for Christmas instead of something worthwhile like a Playstation or a mountain bike or even a guitar for that matter because at least that could be used to make "real music". Back then, sampling was still not widely respected as an art form - it was seen as lazy, talentless and unoriginal at best and outright criminal theft at worst. I had gotten respect for playing drums and guitar and things of that nature but this was a step in the wrong direction in the eyes of many."

The cover photo is a picture of Sam standing on his back porch in the latter part of 1998, just before he got his first sampler. He was 13 years old, in 8th grade. His dad took the picture with his 35mm film camera: "I actually wanted to be pointing my dad's .22 pistol at the camera lens but he wouldn't let me. He gave me an old walking cane to use instead. The Tommy Hilfiger puffer jacket came from the lost and found at William Fleming High School where my mom worked as a secretary. I was thrilled when she brought it home because we never spent money on expensive name brand clothing like that - we were for the most part strictly a sale rack, bargain bin, thrift store, yard sale, flea market kind of family when it came to clothes. My watch is some cheap off-brand fake gold department store watch." Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Lapell's deft lyrics jostle with love song tropes, grappling with love's finitude and the irony of how codependency and longing are revered in popular music. A ghost story is woven through the album: waltzing in the dusty barroom country of "Blue Blaze," buried in the superstitious lyrical streak of "Rattlesnake" and audible in a wheezing organ as it shuts down at the end of "Footsteps."

Still, "Anniversary" emerges as an earnest celebration of commitment. Earworms like "Anniversary Song" and "Someone Like You" showcase intricately layered harmonies, while closer "Stars" affirms that there's no place the speaker would rather be than with the one she loves. Dekker and Lapell assembled a stellar cast of musicians to support Lapell's powerhouse vocals, piano, harmonica and signature fingerstyle guitar.

The core band includes Dan Fortin on bass, Jake Oelrichs on drums, and Tania Gill on the church's piano, harpsichord and organ. Rounding out the ensemble's sensitive orchestral arrangements are Rebecca Hennessy (trumpet), Rachael Cardiello (viola), Michael Davidson (marimba and vibraphone) and Joe Lapinsky (pedal steel), who also engineered and mixed the record. Abigail Lapell has garnered three Canadian Folk Music Awards, hit number one on Canadian folk radio and reached a staggering 40 million + streams across digital services. She has toured widely across Canada and the U.S, and will be touring internationally (UK, EU, AUS and more) in 2024.

Felix Machtelinckx is a singer, composer, producer and lyricist from Belgium. Featuring an array of film scores, dance soundtracks, pop, folk and electronic music, Felix's music resonates with a familiar, almost nostalgic patina, applied with a distinctly crooked touch. Through artistic collaboration, coaching and production, Felix has cut a dash in the pop and indie cult scenes of Belgium, especially with his band Tin Fingers, who are feted as one of the most promising indie acts of the moment. Night Scenes, Felix’s solo debut is, in contrast to his other work, more humble and less traditional, roughly hewn from a series of ambient soundscapes, earthy textures and playful structures. Felix’s voice, normally the flagship of his music, becomes more of a distant memory, an indistinct emotion feathered throughout the music. Many lyrics are improvised, sometimes unintelligible, conjuring haunted, uncertain undertones. Similarly, the album is innately peripatetic to the core, being created, written and recorded in Lithuania, Belgium, France, mastered in the US, and finally released in the UK. In the first instance, some of the tracks were created for the contemporary dance piece Doggy Rugburn by Brandon Lagaert of Kaiho and Peeping Tom; others were created enigmatically for a film that never surfaced; while the remainder are the product of more personal work and research. As Felix began to collect and review these disparate parts, the concept of a unified album began to evolve. With 'night' featuring as a suitably dark leitmotif, or backdrop to a series of emotionally fraught 'scenes', each track depicts a form of trauma, locked within the confines of the mind. Felix observes: "Imagine yourself in a dusty old room unable to sleep. Emotions, fears and other demons haunt your mind. This in-between state makes your mind reach for other worlds. This is Night Scenes." For the most part, Night Scenes was created using a variety of old, and rare, analogue equipment. With almost no digital editing, the record was primarily mixed through a vintage cassette desk, giving it a nostalgic character with a noisy undertone. Felix fully embraced the synergy of his emotional themes and retrograde gear, enthusing: "A lot of textures were created on an old Soviet synthesizer that causes a blackout when you hit the lowest note on the keyboard. The dysfunctionality of the synths was often used to create rhythm and texture." This unnerving ability Night Scenes has to comfort and confound the listener is summed up by Jordan Hudson, House Of Media producer, and music podcaster, when he concludes: "Some songs on the album have this sort of fleeting comfort and tonality, which dissolves into a subtle rhythmic/structural or modulated disarray the moment I settle into them - this really fits with my experience of the night .. This record is a winner, and will be something I'll listen to a lot from here on

Happiness Therapy is celebrating five years of releases this month ! The French label, founded by Crowd Control in 2018, has become one of the country’s most well-renowned outfits.

To commemorate such a milestone, the imprint is releasing a nine-track VA in the form of 5 Years of Happiness. Featured guests include Kolter and DJ Steaw, whilst several firm label favorites also appear on the VA, teaming up to produce a set of exclusive collaborations.

“This new release sets in stone half a decade of existence, life changing releases and unforgettable label nights” - Simon Blondeau aka Crowd Control.

Behold! Yes, Blue Butterfly, one of the absolute stunners on the revered Selected Sound, is finally available for all the beat-heads. Heavyweight library funk with a psychedelic touch, the super in-demand Blue Butterfly from *deep breath* Hardy's Jet Band, Orchestra Klaus Wuesthoff, Jan Troysen Band and Orchestra Gary Pacific - was originally released in 1971. Incredibly ahead of its time, it's been rare and sought-after for decades.

For many aficionados, this is the best Selected Sound release. Loaded with fuzzy wah-wah guitar, deep flute-lines atop soulful psych-rock breakbeats and huge organ action, its uncompromising funk will blow you away. Sampled for many hip hop beats and dropped by well known rare groove DJs around the world, one jewel in particular from this glorious German vault needs little introduction. The intro to Orchestra Gary Pacific's mesmeric "Soft Wind" rides the illest, crispest drum break you've perhaps never heard - like, the drum break to end them all - alongside a smooth, deep bass line from the heavens. It featured notoriously on the beloved Dusty Fingers comps of the 90s and was brilliantly sampled by Pacewon for his eternal "Sunroof Top". Just listen and be dazzled.

Beyond this mini-masterpiece, the other killer tracks offer brilliance in abundance. Hardy's Jet Band take control of the full A side, and it's full of dynamic psych-funk bombs. Hard, "big city" industrial groovers. In particular, the initial one-two of "Sorry, Doc!" and "Wind It Up" provide thrilling funky-blues rock instrumentals showcasing relentless guitars, flutes, sax and organ, the latter containing gorgeous, hypnotic breakdowns; these tracks just slay. The title track, "Blue Butterfly" is a real deep strut of a track with fantastic soloing from guitar and flute over crisp drums whilst the highway banger "What You Call To Be Free" certainly sounds a lot like unbridled, rhythmical liberty.

On the flip, the ghost-riding "Lady In Space" is a string-drenched acid-western foxtrot. Yep. “Pop Happening” by Jan Troysen Band is a heavy, druggy psych-fuzz organ groover whilst their slow beat-organ-flute gem "A Blue Message" is a gorgeous psych floater conjuring deeply strange frontier lands. Preceding their monster "Soft Wind", the soulful, uptempo groover “Ghetto Gap” by Orchestra Gary Pacific contains solo piano and flute whilst closing out the set is the free-and-easy samba beat of "So Far".

Founded in the late 60s by German composer and musician Klaus Netzle (who recorded under the alias Claude Larson for Sonoton) Selected Sound began as a production music company specialising in jazz, orchestral and electronic recordings. You can’t miss those early LPs in their iconic glossy metallic copper sleeves with minimal German typography. Serious, classy stuff.

The audio for Blue Butterfly has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regular Simon Francis whilst Richard Robinson has handled reproducing the glossy metallic (iconic) original Selected Sound sleeve. Essential.

A rather obscure and fantastical 45 by American jazz clarinetistand tenor saxophonist Wendell Harrison. A moody dusty fingers style downtempo cover of Stevie Wonder's sleeper Rocket Love from the LP 'Hotter Than July'. This one seems to have passed by many collectors, including myself, I was only turned onto it recently despite loving Wendell's catalog.

Basic Fingers returns!

Sameed brilliantly join the dots between dusty disco samples cut 'n paste frenzy and jackin' house on 'Old Songs'.

Don't let the name scare you though, these are timeless joints.
The jazzy interlude 'Quarterback' sets things off perfectly with its mellow strings followed by 'Join The Party', an uplifting slice of drivin' soul.
On the flip Sameed continues the roof-raising treatment with 'Horns N Tht', last but not least Sameed gives us a chi-town inspired track, 'Walkin', proper dirt...

Southend quartet Ghost Music release their evocative debut album I Was Hoping You'd Pass By Here via Arlen on 19 January. They create careful, considered songs, weaving lo-fi lullabies with gliding guitars and understated arrangements. Influenced by Silver Jews, Flying Nun and K Records, they explore themes of nature, love, loss and a melancholic English romanticism embellished with beautifully spectral melodies and executed with startling subtlety.

Despite this record being their debut, the band has produced a veritable wealth of music over the past 20 years in various guises. Ghost Music revolves around the songwriting partnership of Matt Randall and Lee Hall, who had played together in the 90s with John Peel favourites Beatglider. More recently Randall has received critical acclaim as Plantman, with his three albums Closer to the Snow, Whispering Trees and To The Lighthouse receiving praise from The Guardian, Uncut and Mojo. When Randall and Hall reunited to collaborate on another album together, they brought in the talents of Roy Thirlwall on bass (Melodie Group) and Leighton Jennings on drums (Dark Globes) to complete the band.

The original idea would be that the songs would be 'ghosts' and create 'ghost music' to resurrect and dust off old songs that they had already started. Lee had found the beginnings of 'Home Dog' on a dusty old 4-track and he had recorded 'Strange Love' on his iPhone in 2014, whilst Matt had written 'My Cloud' as far back as 1997 (the night he moved out of his parents' house). As the album began to take shape, the ghostly premise took a back seat, as they began to breathe new life into the songs they found the impetus to write new ones.

Randall explains the songwriting process; 'When we were in Beatglider together and in the past we'd made a 'thing' out of writing long songs with a lot of changes. This time we pared it back a bit and stuck to the melodies more. We really wanted to make a proper guitar record. Lee's my favourite guitarist and it was lovely to see him stretch out on these songs with his diamond fingers.'

Not afraid to wear their influences on their sleeves, Ghost Music's sound is instantly familiar, echoing beloved bands from the 90s such as Pavement ('Home Dog' has a definite 'Range Life' feel), Galaxie 500 ('Blindspot'), Yo La Tengo ('Heart Shaped Holiday' is influenced by the languid YLT songs that peak after a short intro) and even old-school rock'n'roll ('Strange Love' was born out of an appreciation for the instantly engaging opening riff in 50s songs). Yet Ghost Music's work never feels derivative, being instead effortlessly emotive, melancholic and affecting, creating a world of sound that is hugely reassuring and a tonic for the modern age.

Federsen returns to Fifth Interval for another sublime instalment of dance floor friendly dub-techno. Dewpoint is an altogether tighter affair when compared to the label's first release, Point Reyes.

The drums are taut and razor-sharp, propelling the listener effortlessly through a dense fog of ferric clouds, swelling to fill the outer-reaches of the echo chamber. A highly polished metallic production style that can be compared to some of Andy Stott's early and classic works.

Tomas Rubek remixes Dewpoint for the B-side, remaining faithful to the original track's structure but viewing it through a tinted lens. Dewpoint's chords become iridescent, kick drums fall into a straighter pattern and are backed by further dusty percussion, shifting the original into spheres inhabited by the likes of Rod Modell and Fluxion.

12" 180g vinyl with printed sleeve.

Mastered by Lewis at Stardelta.

"Original mix is dope." - Brendon Moeller (Beat Pharmacy)

"Really digging this remix. It's been on repeat this morning." - Silent Season

"Full support, I will play it, love Federsen's work!" - Fingers in the Noise

"Played on BBC Radio" - Steve Barker (The Wire)

MF DOOM is the man in the iron mask. The most mysterious figure in hip-hop has also become one of the most popular, supplying beats and rhymes for Gorillaz, De La Soul, Madlib, Danger Mouse, and Wu-Tang Clan, and drawing praise from heavyweights like Just Blaze, Nas, and Mos Def. Since 2002, DOOM has released numerous volumes of Special Herbs, one of the longest-running instrumental series in hip-hop history. Now, volumes three and four of the acclaimed series are available on vinyl for the first time in years. With obscure loops and dusty samples galore, Special Herbs Vol. 3 & 4 is a must-have for any DOOM fan or hip-hop head. Also includes a limited-edition bonus 7', featuring two beats from DOOM's days as a member of 90s hip-hop trio KMD.