Buscar:each

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

In late 2022 we released ‘NOW - Yearbook 1980 - 1984: Vinyl Extra’ - a 5LP boxset featuring an album per year for the period 1980-1984, each including an incredible line-up of tracks taken from either the ‘Yearbook’ or ‘Extra’ that hadn’t been included on a ‘Yearbook’ vinyl edition before. Now for the vinyl collectors, we proudly present the second, and final volume ‘NOW - Yearbook 1980 - 1984: Vinyl Extra: Vol.2’, featuring 78 more moments of Pop magic in a numbered limited-edition boxset – with each vinyl pressed in the colour of the years’ original ‘Yearbook’. As with the previous edition, none of the tracks appeared on a ’Yearbook’ vinyl edition before..

“Limbs of a Lion” arrives in a dazzling array of shimmering psychedelia, the newest offering on fleet.dreams’ own Vinezza records. Following “Echoes of Ego” his acclaimed inaugural 12”, “Limbs of a Lion” sees fleet.dreams’ artistry and form blossoming into realms of kaleidoscopic cadence & textural buoyancy. The production flows through a classically dubwise live analog mixing setup, new spheres of delays & echoes evolving fleet.dreams’ process to embody a unique & fully realized intersection of live instrumentation & dynamic synthesis.

Each track takes on its own entrancing sway, opening the listener towards beguiling spaciousness, experiences in rhythm, and a healthy dose of surrealist dreaming. “Masked in Porcelain” gleams with mystique, tinged with flanger in a firmly driving dancefloor mode, guiding us deeper into mysteries held by skylines and moonlight. “Secret of the Golden Flower” brings forth photosynthetic gated vocals built for eyes closed body movement, evolving from a cosmic conga groove confidently manifesting in ensnaring kinetic activation.

“iLL Enargeia” brings a touch of depth, stepping into tomorrow with a confident saunter, perfect for the blissful delirium of new beginnings or a space of breadth and reflection in the midst of astral metronomes. The closing title track “Limbs of a Lion” sees us out on a hopeful note, awash in bold luminescence & inviting us to go deeper and deeper within ourselves amidst the grounding embrace of bassline pressure.

Embodying a dance of intangibility towards new unknowns, “Limbs of a Lion” aspires to manifest the grace of movement through our beings - magnetizing and enhancing our danceable forms, frolicking beyond words together. Each track boldly stands on it’s own while orbiting a cohesive whole, perfect for all set and settings, a staple for the DJ crates, and a sign of a musicmaker with even more exciting creations on the horizon.

*words by Kiernan Laveaux
Early support from: Kiernan Laveaux, Daniel Rincón (NAP), 2Lanes & Amelia Holt

»Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds« explores sound’s relationship with architecture, inspired by the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery of NSW. Created from sound prompts responded to by artists like Jim O’Rourke and claire rousay, the work reflects on space, collaboration, and the fluid nature of sonic environments.

I like to think that sound haunts architecture.

It’s one of the truly magical interactions afforded by sound’s immateriality. It’s also something that has captivated us from the earliest times. It’s not difficult to imagine the exhilaration of our early ancestors calling to one another in the dark cathedral like caves which held wonder, and security, for them.

Today the ways in which sound occupies space, the so-called liquid architecture, holds just as much wonder, albeit one that is often dominated by functionality and form. Beyond those constraints however, how sound operates in the material world is something that exists at the fundament of our understanding of music, and moreover within the broad church we know as the canon of sound arts.

Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is a record born out of these relations. In a direct sense, the record is the product of an invitation by curator Jonathan Wilson to create a sound environment, reflecting on the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery Of NSW. The building’s name, which translates from the Gadigal language to ‘seeing water’, was opened in 2022 and this piece was offered as an atmospheric tint to visitors walking through the building throughout the year following its opening.

It’s also a record born out of a recognition for the porousness sound affords, especially as a device for collaborative endeavour. This composition is one born out of generosity and acoustic solidarity. Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is comprised not just of my sounds, but also that of an incredible array of artists who have also operated in the orbit of the Art Gallery Of NSW. The players include Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello and Vanessa Tomlinson.

The piece was constructed around two long form sound prompts that each musician responded and contributed to. These materials there when digested into the final piece you hear. The work could not exist without the substantial offerings these artists made, and I am immensely grateful to each of them.

I’ll finish with a little note that appears on the LP itself.

Place is an evolving, subjective experience of space. Spaces hold the opportunity for place, which we create moment to moment, shaped by our ways of sense-making.

Whilst the architectural and material features of space might remain somewhat constant, the people, objects, atmospheres, and encounters that fill them are forever collapsing into memory.

Lawrence English
Performed by Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello, Vanessa Tomlinson

With the 67th contest taking place in the UK in May, Eurovision fever is about to hit!!! – NOW That’s What I Call Eurovision Song Contest presents the ultimate collection of winners, memorable and enduring classics, and fan favourites. 84 Tracks celebrating an incredible legacy… and your essential Eurovision party playlist - NOW That’s What I Call Eurovision Song Contest. Formats : An 84 track 5-LP box set presented in a rigid slip case, with the 5 individual LP’s, including track by track annotations on the reverse of each cover that include facts about the song, artist, and result at the contest. The LPs are pressed on clear transparent vinyl. Limited Coloured 2LP set with 36 songs across– LP1 pressed on translucent red, and LP2 pressed on translucent blue vinyl. 4CD set with all 84 tracks. Marketing: TV advertising from day one of release to include major programming, terrestrial and satellite (actual program placement available closer to release date). Digital rollout of advert / advertising across YouTube and Facebook plus Online/Social marketing

Hiromi’s band Sonicwonder formed in early 2023, leading up to the release of the group’s first album together.  She selected each musician in the group strategically, choosing artists with a specific sound in mind who could paint the picture of her compositions. Hiromi’s Sonicwonder has been playing and touring together since then. With their second album as a group, OUT THERE, the band reaches a new level of chemistry and musical cohesion.

Andrew Duhon has a knack for telling the kind of stories that clearly cost the writer something to tell- the kind of honesty that feels noble and never half hearted. When a song written by a stranger heals you, even in the smallest way, that's a connection beyond entertainment, and that is the journey Andrew Duhon sets out on from his home in Louisiana. His songs are about recognizing our story as much as they are about telling his, and his coast to coast pursuits have given him a clearer view of the American Landscape than most are privy to. Still, after years of voyaging off to every corner of the country, a new sensation arises with each return home to New Orleans. From that familiar return comes The Parish Record, a snapshot of life venturing from and returning to one of America's purest cultural vignettes, and the beauty, conflict, and stories that come with it. The Parish Record was recorded at Dockside Studios in Maurice, LA, where deep in Cajun country sits a wood-panel barn engulfed in oak and cypress trees along the slow butterscotch bayou pace of the Vermillion River. In this isolated hub of Acadiana, Andrew Duhon embarked with his trio of most trusted musicians - Myles Weeks (James Hunter Six, Eric Lindell) on Bass, Jim Kolacek (Feufollet) on Drums, and Daniel Walker (Heart, Ann Wilson, Amy Ray) on Keys - to harness of the sound and feeling of their surroundings. "I wanted this record to feel like home. It wasn't time to get out of town or try out something new on this one. It was about believing in the songs from where the songs came from," Duhon says.

180 grams / vinyl only


Based Faith unveils Spell Three Twenty Nine, a sacred incantation to the dance floor. This limited edition no repress release brings together four divine interpretations of the original track, each a hymn to the groove.
Cesare vs Disorder blesses us with deep, rolling pads that lead us into a meditative state, while Arval stirs the soul with a techy, high-energy remix designed to lift bodies in motion. Frink delivers a precise, floor-focused cut that radiates purity in its clean production, and finally, Richard Rozen presents the original-a slow-burning, capturing of a moment in time for those seeking deeper dance floor transcendence.
This record is a relic of the faith, pressed in limited numbers for true believers of the power of the dancefloor.

When considering the jazz vibraphone giants of the 20th century, seven stand out: Lionel Hampton, Red Norvo, Milt Jackson, Terry Gibbs, Cal Tjader, Gary Burton, and Bobby Hutcherson. Bobby Hutcherson (1941-2016), originally inspired by Milt Jackson, emerged from Los Angeles in the late 1950s. After a stint with the Billy Mitchell-Al Grey sextet in 1962, Hutcherson moved to New York, becoming the house vibraphonist for the Blue Note label. His foundation in hard bop did not limit him, as he also played in avant-garde sessions with artists like Eric Dolphy and Jackie McLean. On December 11, 1983, the 42-year-old Hutcherson performed seven standards with a stellar group. Pianist George Cables, consistently excellent throughout his career, had been working with Hutcherson since 1977. Bassist Herbie Lewis, a versatile musician, had collaborated with Hutcherson since 1966. Drummer Philly Joe Jones, known for his work with Miles Davis, also contributed to the session. The recording of the Four Seasons album features seven standards, starting with Thelonious Monk’s “I Mean You,” which showcases each musician. Hutcherson’s solo on Cole Porter’s “All Of You” is particularly adventurous. “Spring Is Here” receives a beautiful interpretation, and “Star Eyes” is taken uptempo. Hutcherson’s introduction on “If I Were A Bell” is notable, as is Jones’s solo. The session spotlights Cables on “Summertime” and concludes with a vibrant version of “Autumn Leaves.” Decades later, the music remains a timeless classic. Four Seasons is available on black vinyl, celebrates its 40th Anniversary, and includes an insert with newly written liner-notes by Scott Yanow

Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers are a powerhouse, celebrated for their raw emotion and incisive social observations. Their talent has earned them nominations for Best Independent Punk Album or EP at the AIR Awards, Emerging Songwriter of the Year and Song of the Year at the APRA Awards, along with nods from the J Awards and Rolling Stone Awards. Recognised as Spotify's RADAR Artist, their rising global influence is undeniable.

Following their award winning 2022 EP, Pretty Good For A Girl Band, their debut album I Love You charted at number 6 on the ARIA Albums Chart, marking a significant milestone. The accompanying tour saw them sell out iconic venues like 170 Russell in Melbourne, the Metro Theatre in Sydney, and The Triffid in Brisbane. They capped off the year supporting the Foo Fighters at AAMI Park in Melbourne and launched into 2024 by supporting The Vaccines across the EU/UK. They will support Pearl Jam on select dates in the United States mid-2025.

I Love You showcases the bands growth, with each member contributing to songwriting. It stands as a definitive statement of their sound—joy, rage, and euphoria, delivered with precision and heart. Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers continue to make waves, solidifying their place in the music industry.

POISON IDEA’s momentum hasn’t slowed down one bit; this is still their brand of loud, potent powerthrash. Slightly more metal than in the past but the accent here is on the force and fury. Scorching. Each song on War All the Time flows into the other in a natural sequence for maximum impact and the whole thing blows over before you know it, but everything stays in your head, banging against the walls of your frontal bone. All this makes a good album, but what turns War All the Time into an amazing album are the lyrics and their delivery. Jerry A took the negative side of the world around him and expressed it in detail, rendered with words that can be read in a universal manner, expressing everything trivial and worthy of our puke in a language better suited to talk about the beauty of life. And those words remain as true to this day as the band’s riffs are brutal.

In the midst of recording his 12th album 'Why The Worry', wavering in his resolve to finish what he'd started, Seth Walker came to the realization: "This does not define me; this is not who I am forever; this is just a moment" . "Distance colors compositions over the years and each album is left as merely a reflection of its own period in time." The new album finds Walker reunited with old friends and familiar names. Once again Jano Rix steps behind the boards, co-producing the album with Seth and engineer Brook Sutton. In the producer's fifth outing he's become an invaluable sounding board, the kind that knows what's missing and, just as importantly, what needs to be taken away. Oliver Wood (The Wood Brothers) lends a pen to the title track and Seth's classically trained father Scott adds strings to "I'm Getting Ready," a song penned by Walker's contemporary Michael Kiwanuka. Mostly, though, the record was shepherded into shape by Walker's trio, rounded out by longtime confidants Rhees Williams (Guitar, Piano) and Mark Raudabaugh (Drums). The three let the studio guide them, entering without agenda, set straight by the title's mantra to stop worrying where they'd end up.

With Umwelt, room, An’archives releases the first vinyl LP by Japanese singer, songwriter and guitarist, Kotonashiso. An elegant collection of seven slow-moving, free-ranging song forms, Umwelt, room is reflective, pensive, and yet has a great, expansive sense of movement, each song’s parameters feeling almost infinitely flexible.

Born in Tokyo in 1984, Kotonashiso began playing music in 2000. After taking a long break from making music between the years 2005 to 2016, he returned with renewed focus, and over the past eight years, he’s toured Japan and Europe, performing in venues, street performances and open mic events. Currently, Kotonashiso plays either solo, on in three separate duos, with Sou Mori, 泥, and Hideya Kyooka, respectively. He’s not released much music, as yet – a single, “in the cavern”, with Sou Mori, in 2021, and a soundtrack to Hiroki Nakajima’s solo exhibition, Ray, the following year.

All of this gives Umwelt, Room the feeling of a major statement, a debut shot across the void. The seven songs collected here were recorded in 2024, with a guiding principle, for Kotonashiso, being his desire to “imagine the time when people started recording blues and folk songs on analog records,” creating a ghost-like presence in the listener’s room. When talking about the songs on Umwelt, Room, Kotonashiso focuses on a number of concepts, such as prayer, tragedy, ‘the cycle of life’, and the disappearance of the gulf between fantasy and reality.

They’re songs with deep, rich resonance, performed without guile. You might be able to hear, at times, the fragility of fellow Japanese singer-songwriter Hisato Higuchi, or the bluesy touch of Loren Connors in the guitar. However, Kotonashiso’s aesthetic remit is wide, identifying with artists like Bill Callahan, Scout Niblett, Inukaze, and Tomoko Shimazaki, and sharing sympathies with “the psychedelic rock, avant-garde and ambient communities.” Ultimately, though, the pellucid, dream-like songs of Kotonashiso, somewhere between folk, pop and blues, sit, disarmed and lovely, within their own universe.

Fraufraulein, the San Francisco duo of Billy Gomberg and Andy Guthrie, are master world builders. Their work is immersive — it wraps around you like a warm coat, guiding you deep into a trance-like state. Time moves in slow circles, folds in on itself, and unspools like caught fishing line. It’s tempting to say Guthrie and Gomberg construct a new reality with their work, but I think they’re revealing the contours of familiar territory, gluing together a complicated mirror more than constructing a quotidian diorama. Their music reflects a truth that we all share in some way. It’s the pauses between thoughts, the little observations that color a day, the beauty of how others’ lives imbricate for brief moments before pulling apart completely. Fraufraulein’s music feels beamed from inner space, the soft parts of our consciousness that glow like a flashlight beneath fingertips.

It’s also tempting to call Greater Honeyguide, the duo’s new record — and first in four years — a tool for fostering presence. Each composition can serve as a meditative space, and observing the quietly unfurling layers of sound — a footfall and a quiet breath, scraps of overlapping melodies sung like notes to self, synthesizers droning lightly in the distance — can be a very calming, grounding experience. But I also love to let these pieces guide me through the sulci of my brain like a slot canyon, emerging at some long-forgotten memory or idea. Think of it as a passively-active experience, like looking out of a train window, watching the scenery blur together. At the end of the album’s 37 minutes, I feel transformed. Not necessarily different, just in tune with something else. Something beyond. Something within.

Following the success of their 2023 release "Stockholm Kobenhavn", two of Denmark"s most celebrated musicians in multi-instrumentalist Gustaf Ljunggren and drummer Emil de Waal present their fourth collaborative album. Expanding on their growing reputation for crafting songs and sounds with masterful senses of subtlety, narrative and capacity to form meaningful connections with their collaborators and audiences alike, "Mikroklima" is set to release on February 7th on April Records. Emil de Waal has been one of Denmark"s leading drummers for three decades, best known for his work leading the band Kalaha and his collaborations with Elith "Nulle" Nykjær, as well as performing alongside most of the finest names in modern Scandinavian jazz. Gustaf Ljunggren initially studied the saxophone at the Rhythmic Conservatory of Copenhagen, where whispers spread throughout the school that he was the best saxophone player in town and yet never practiced. His career has seen him prove that he can bring grace, musicality and heart to any instrument he touches, from the pedal steel guitar, to the bass, piano, and more. "Mikroklima" is a testament to and celebration of musical growth, community, and the joy of musical gathering. One element that truly sets this album apart, is the bold move of inviting a group of 12 year old school children from a music class into the studio to record alongside Gustaf and Emil. Drawing from years of experience leading music workshops with young musicians, on Mikroklima Ljunggren and de Waal wanted to capture the sound of musicians from different generations and experiences coming together to contribute their ideas to their compositions. Showcasing Ljunggren"s colorful, comforting, folk-influenced approach to harmony and songwriting alongside de Waal"s distinctive touch on the drums, crafting simplistic yet creative grooves that feel as pleasing and refreshing as they do restrained and purposeful. As each piece unfolds, it becomes more and more apparent how present and communicative the duo are, playing only what the music needs and placing more weight on texture and feeling than soloistic flair. "Mikroklima" is an organic, generous offering that shows Gustaf Ljunggren and Emil de Waal doing what they do best: connecting with music.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

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.

Mechanisms of Omniscience - a brutal and unrelenting journey through technical death metal, returns to the market as a special vinyl reissue, brought to you by our newly established record label. Originally released by Abnormality in 2016, this album has left a lasting mark on the genre with its punishing riffs, precise technicality, and intense lyrical content. Abnormality explores profound and provocative themes in every track, addressing existentialism, corruption, and the darker side of human nature. This is an album that defies genre expectations, marrying complex arrangements with raw aggression. Abnormality, a force hailing from Massachusetts, has carved a niche within extreme metal for its signature blend of technical prowess and relentless heaviness. Led by the fierce vocals of Mallika Sundaramurthy, the band is complemented by the exceptional talents of guitarist Jeremy Henry, bassist Josh Staples, and drummer Jay Blaisdell. Together, they create a sound that is as precise as it is punishing, offering fans a visceral experience in each performance. This reissue celebrates the lasting impact of Mechanisms of Omniscience while paying homage to Abnormality’s powerful contribution to metal.

Mechanisms of Omniscience - a brutal and unrelenting journey through technical death metal, returns to the market as a special vinyl reissue, brought to you by our newly established record label. Originally released by Abnormality in 2016, this album has left a lasting mark on the genre with its punishing riffs, precise technicality, and intense lyrical content. Abnormality explores profound and provocative themes in every track, addressing existentialism, corruption, and the darker side of human nature. This is an album that defies genre expectations, marrying complex arrangements with raw aggression. Abnormality, a force hailing from Massachusetts, has carved a niche within extreme metal for its signature blend of technical prowess and relentless heaviness. Led by the fierce vocals of Mallika Sundaramurthy, the band is complemented by the exceptional talents of guitarist Jeremy Henry, bassist Josh Staples, and drummer Jay Blaisdell. Together, they create a sound that is as precise as it is punishing, offering fans a visceral experience in each performance. This reissue celebrates the lasting impact of Mechanisms of Omniscience while paying homage to Abnormality’s powerful contribution to metal.