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Perth-based artist hub 823, led by the extraordinary producer / creator Ta-ku joins forces with Berlin's Jakarta Records for the release of Godblesscomputers's fourth full-length LP, "Faded Views." The LP melds bright electronic flourishes with laidback synth-driven backdrops, weaving tapestries of mellow folktronica and groovy jazz harmony with continuous sonic intrigue that will keep you grooving into a tropical disposition. Paying homage to his musical moniker, the Bologna-based producer makes timely metallic interjections amidst lush, effortlessly groovy soundscapes. Explore a world of found, recycled, and synthesized sound on "Faded Views" out everywhere September 8.

Bologna-based producer, DJ, and sound collector Godblesscomputers (122k Spotify listeners) has returned with the release of his fourth full-length record, "Faded Views." Godblesscomputers's latest LP "The Island" (2020, La Tempesta Dischi) earned him placement on Spotify playlists like "Brain Flood" and "Coffee Club." Since then, his appearance on Willie Peyote's track "La colpa al vento" landed GBC on "Best of Indie Italia 2022." On "Faded Views," it was Godblesscomputers's creative project to explore the sonic potentials of his direct environment, picking up recordings and threads of inspiration from the most commonplace occurrences. A sonic scavenger, Godblesscomputers explored the expanses of his-both digital and physical-soundscapes. "Faded Views" does the work of crafting a unified, yet complex compilation of the noises that mark the experience of being digital natives in ever-expanding dimensions.

Godblesscomputers's use of musique concrète and found-sound composition melds curiously with his undeniable electronic and techno acumen. Superimposing metallic electronica onto esoteric sound bytes creates the occasion for complex sound collage. "Faded Views" marks a decade since the genesis of the Godblesscomputers project; the entire LP testifies to how time warps perception and sound. Godblesscomputers's music seems to decorate time, both commemorating the moments passed with mind-melting sonic collages and looking forward to the infinitudes of the future with frenetic electronic experimentation.

Themes of impermanence and transience-hence "Faded Views"-pervade the record. Godblesscomputers blurs time as each track seeps into the next in what feels like a seamless transition. He makes these swift passages in genre as well-the record opens on "Colors" with a rich horn section which frictionlessly becomes a lo-fi dance groove. It is this melding of the analog and the electronic that makes sense of his found approach to beat-making: Godblesscomputers marries the found and the synthesized; the creator and the created; the past and the future. The process of sonic dissection and recomposition that drives much of Godblesscomputers's creative process yields not only assertive breakdowns and animated dance tracks, but also complex tapestries of sound that keep the listener ever-intrigued-piano, saxophone, and modular synthesis all find a natural home on tracks like "Hello." In an apt description, the producer's work has been described as "sounding like wood, metal, and microchip."

Godblesscomputers's artistic objective lies in blurring definitive lines, constantly shifting perspectives, genres, and origins of inspiration. On "Faded Views," this design cultivates a folktronica record that truly evades definition.

Feelgood lead single "Mirrors" is out June 30th and features a rich meld of warbling layers, mixing upbeat dance music with complex instrumentation. Stream second single, "Above the Lake," for a mellow summer cut on July 21. Finally, the effortlessly groovy third single "You Feel Me" captures a genre-warping foray into folktronica. Listen to "You Feel Me" on August 11.

All LP artwork and stunning single visualizers were single-handedly put together by multi-disciplinary designer Michael Norman. "Faded Views" will be available everywhere physically and digitally on September 8, 2023. Be sure to listen for focus track "Hello" that captures the vast scope of Godblesscomputers's musical prowess. Find the LP, CD, and digital release on 823's and Jakarta Records's Bandcamp and local record stores.

"Life Plans and Parallel Side Tracks" by Ismael Zouaoui (aka Ish) is the highly anticipated album on Libertine Records. Spanning Electro, Drum 'n' Bass, Dark-Wave, and Ambient, Ish's versatile production shines. Inspired by diverse influences like Brave New World, Japanese Anime, and early Techno/Trance, the album's contemporary, textured sound captivates.

Flatlife Records 3x12" Sales Pack including:

- V/A - The Factory 001 (FACTORY001RP)
- V/A - De Missie Various Artists 01 (DMVA01)
- V/A - Jack Wax Presents: Flat Acid Compilation Volume 5 (FLAT019RP)

Following nearly 20 years of working together as a trio, and numerous cross-collaborations in different configuration between them, Ideologic Organ presents Placelessness, the debut full-length by Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim, comprising two long-form works at juncture of ambient music, minimalism, rigorous experimentalism and improvisation, and machine music. Having carved distinct pathways across a diverse number of musical idioms for decades, Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim are each, respectively, among the most noteworthy and groundbreaking figures to have emerged from Australia's thriving experimental music scene. Ambarchi and Avenaim first encountered Abrahams when seeing the Necks - the project that has served as the primary vehicle for his singular approach to the piano since its founding in 1987 - together during the late 1980s, not long after having met in Sydney's underground music community. The pair's collaborations date back more than 35 years, criss-crossing Ambarchi's pioneering solo and ensemble work for guitar and Avenaim's visionary efforts for SARPS (Semi Automated Robotic Percussion System), robotic and kinetic extensions to his drum kit. In 2004, fate brought the three together in a trio performance at the What Is Music? Festival, the annual touring showcase of experimental music founded and run by Ambarchi and Avenaim between 1994-2012. For the nearly two decades since, Abrahams, Ambarchi, and Avenaim have intermittently reformed in exclusively live contexts, in Australia and abroad, cultivating and refining the fertile ground first tilled in that early meeting. Placelessness is the first album to present this remarkable trio's efforts in recorded form. Placelessness is the joining of three highly individualised streams, working in perfect harmony; the point at which friendship, mutual respect, and decades of creative exploration produce a singular spectrum of sound. Featuring Abrahams on piano, Ambarchi on guitar, and Avenaim on drums, the album's two sides draw on each artist's enduring dedication to long-form composition. Its two pieces, Placelessness I and Placelessness II, initially began as a single, 40 minute work, before being divided and reworked into distinct, complimentary gestures for the corresponding sides of the LP. Beginning with restrained clusters of reverberant piano tones, Placelessness I progresses at an almost glacial pace, with Abrahams' interventions increasing met by sparse responses, darting within vast ambiences, on guitar and percussion by Ambarchi and Avenaim. Remarkably conversational within its convergences of tonal, rhythmic, and textural abstraction, over the work's duration a progressive sense of tension unfurls and contracts, refusing release, as each of the ensemble's members contribute to an increasingly tangled sense of density at its resolve. While an entirely autonomous work, Placelessness II rapidly realises a distillation of the energy hinted at across the length of its predecessor. Following a luring passage of harmonious calm, Abrahams' launches into shimmering lines of repeating arpeggios, complimented at each escalation of tempo by Avenaim's machine gun fire percussion work and Ambarchi's masterful delivery of tonality and texture, as the trio collectively generate dense sheets of pointillistic ambience within which individual identity is almost lost, before slowly unspooling into unexpected abstractions and dissonances that deftly intervene with the work's inner logic and calm. What could easily be termed a maximalist take on Minimalism, Placelessness is a masterstroke of contemporary, real time composition, that blurs the boundaries between ambient music, experimentalism, free improvisation, and machine music. Drawing on Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim's decades of respective solo and collaborative practice, and the culmination of nearly twenty years of working together as a trio, it's two durational pieces - Placelessness I and Placelessness II - take form with a startling sense of effortlessness and grace, neither shying away from explicit beauty or rigorously tension within their forms.

The Nag's Head was a warts-and-all vessel for the sonic meanderings of Brighton artist Stephen Maskell - taking in richly textural techno, corrupted pop and ASMR drone sculptures. His four releases on Kit Records documented the ecstatic mundanity of life in broken Britain, compositions welded together with snippets of pirate radio, ear-tickling art installations, altercations in terrible pubs, and other end-of-pier hallucinations.

Honky Tonk Cheeseballs is perhaps Maskell's final release, and represents the culmination of his digital dream diary approach. Gone is the Nag's Head moniker (pub burnt down in a possible insurance job?). In the embers we find Basil Neptune: a kind of sentient Airbnb profile, seeking out the smelliest, strangest sonic vestiges of Albion. Expect richly harmonic ambience, ghostly spoken word, and a few trademark booty shakers. All shot through the lens of... Scooby Doo? Zoinks.

For their fourth album, »Bear In Town«, indie avant-pop supergroup Spirit Fest made a virtue of distance, with group members split across Europe, and recording sessions taking place after a brief 2021 tour of Europe. It’s an object lesson in perseverance and commitment, as the music here is some of Spirit Fest’s most moving yet. The six songs on this album illuminate different aspects of the transnational quintet’s character – lovely, heart-rending pop songs; melancholy chants; the joys of simple repetition – with the group’s guitar pop tended by gentle flourishes of piano and electronics.

Some of those flourishes were spirited onto »Bear In Town« across the waves, with Mat Fowler (Bons, Jam Money) contributing from Britain, while the body of the music was recorded in a small apartment studio in Munich by the other members of Spirit Fest: Saya and Ueno (Tenniscoats), Markus Acher (The Notwist) and Cico Beck (Joasinho, Aloa Input). »Bear In Town« is concise and powerful, the infectious joy of the spirit communicated, beautifully, by melodies that balance the heartfelt with the melancholy. Reflecting on those sessions, Acher says, »I think the album captures how well we played together at that time.« It’s all the more impressive given this material was put down live in the studio, with a few vocal overdubs. The depth of feeling at the core of Spirit Fest’s music is evident from the opening notes of »Bear In Town«.

»Kou-Kou Land«, the first song on the album, recalls several earlier Tenniscoats songs, like »Baibaba Bimba«, in the way the musicians weave gentle complexity around a simple, repeated chant; the stop-start structure of »Kou-Kou Land« builds anticipation, while Saya’s simple melody is lovely, delivered in an absent-minded hum that’s deeply affecting. »Lost & Found« revolves around a delightful descending chord change that breaks up the swaying, folksy verses, gorgeous electronic whirrs and purring winds floating through the song. The following »In Our House« possesses such sweet sadness, it’s one of Spirit Fest’s most moving songs yet.

»Like A Plane« repurposes a song that Markus Acher originally wrote and recorded for his solo EP of the same title, released on a 2022 10-inch single on Morr Music. The original was a gentle, introverted lament, but the version on »Bear In Town« has a widescreen tenderness, its melancholy framed by raindrop piano. The album concludes with two moments of playful splendour, the bossa-inflected »Hill Blo«, and the driving title track, both led by Saya, who is in stunning voice on this album; on »Bear In Town«, her awestruck wonder perfectly captures the sense of possibility in the song’s capacious chords. Like the rest of the album, it’s full of kindness, rich with psych-pop splendour… a balm for troubled times.

The Barcelona trio behind the excellent Isla Fantasia from a few years ago are back to enliven another summer season with an anthemic, Ibiza-esque dance floor filler. Reminiscent of an early 90s Euro-house stomper, the production does what it says on the tin: solid four to the floor action, enchanting female vocals(courtesy of Brigitte Emaga), and a refrain that will have 'the brightest light' still lodged in your brain way into autumn.

The flip side, Mistura Magica, is a percussively-driven instrumental that feels like dancing through a tropical rainforest. With just the right amount of rise and fall to keep the rhythmic tension tight with anticipation, it's a journey of Brazilian beats peppered with exotica electronica. Sandwiched between a heavy pounding drums is the sweetest flute (courtesy of Irene Reig), taking the limelight like a bird in flight. A synesthetic track that has you listening in full colour!

Today, Anjimile Chithambo, better known as Anjimile, announces his new album, The King, out September 8th, his first full-length since 2020’s breakthrough Giver Taker. To herald the announcement, he shares lead single, ‘The King’, accompanied by a visualiser by Daniela Yohannes, whose striking painting takes centre stage on the album cover.

Highlighting the artistic shift from Giver Taker to now, ‘The King’ opens with a lofty, melodic choir, an intro that belies the song’s motives. Suddenly, sinister arpeggios interrupt the reverie, and the voices grow darkly serious. Deeply steeped in the confusion, grief, and rage of being Black in America, ‘The King’ pushes back against the tired adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” hissing, “What don ’t kill you almost killed you// What don’t fill you//pains you// drains you.”

“If Giver Taker was an album of prayers, The King is an album of curses.” In his second album, Anjimile continues exploring what it means to be a Black trans person in America. The brutally honest reflection of 2020’s deadly summer is less reminiscent of the pink cloud of early sobriety and more rooted in the reality of seeing brutality with clear eyes. Drawing from influences ranging from religion, Phillip Glass, and lived experiences, the album is a grand step forward for Anjimile. Nearly every sound you hear on The King comes from two instruments: an acoustic guitar and Anjimile’s own voice. Other than a few beautiful contributions from Justine
Bowe, Brad Allen Williams, Sam Gendel, and James Krivchenia (Big Thief), the album is the result of a year in LA working intimately with Grammy and Juno winner Shawn Everett.

Die ultimative Extrem-Metal-Attacke von Bio-Cancer, zurück mit einer Revengeance, um alle Metal-Bühnen weltweit zu vernichten!
Bio Cancer ist eine extreme Thrash Metal Band aus Athen, Griechenland, die 2010 gegründet wurde und einer der führenden Acts in der aufstrebenden Thrash Metal Szene der frühen 10er Jahre in Griechenland war. Seitdem wurden 2 Full LengthAlben veröffentlicht worden. Das erste, "Ear Piercing Thrash" (2012), wurde von Athens Thrash Attack Records veröffentlicht, erregte große Aufmerksamkeit in der weltweiten Thrash Metal-Szene, verschaffte der Band eine große Anhängerschaft und wurde in vielen Listen als eines der besten Thrash Metal-Alben des Jahres anerkannt.

Das zweite Album "Tormenting The Innocent" (2015) wurde von Candlelight Records veröffentlicht und sowohl von Fans als auch von den Medien sehr positiv aufgenommen. Wer diese griechischen Flitzer als einen weiteren Pseudo-Crossover-Versager abtut, verpasst unglaublich tighten und unterhaltsamen echten Thrash Metal, der für das Publikum des 21. Jahrhunderts gemacht ist.

Structured chaos- perhaps the most fail-safe description of the ins and outs of being an artist. Between the peculiar highs and all too relatable lows, chaos follows art like houses in motion; all lofty ambitions, and fast-paced progress. For Brighton’s Porchlight, chaos, and the art of being a band, in all its complex commodities, is nothing more than mere childsplay, in the grand scheme of lawless artistry.

Loosely inspired by tales of small-town rural England- cottage villages with dark exteriors, ‘Wives Tales & Hymns of the Earth’ as a whole, is the outcome of five individual tales coming together to form a conceptually emphasised entity to end all conceptually emphasised entities. Completed by the poetic brood of ‘Blue Chalk’, the jagged anxieties of ‘Spin Doctor’ and Porchlight aficionado familiarities of opening track ‘From Monday’, in just short of twenty minutes ‘Wives Tales & Hymns of the Earth’ perfectly captures the sweeping emotions of a debut; a soul-stirring, ear-pounding documentation of a group taking their first steps into a whole new unknown of their own fine-crafted design.

Gilberto With Turrentine is an album by Brazilian samba and bossa nova singer Astrud Gilberto and American saxophonist Stanley Turrentine. It features performances recorded in 1971, originally released at CTI Records by Creed Taylor. The album can be described as a blend of jazz, pop, and tropicalia. It was arranged by Eumir Deodato and features appearances by A-list jazz performers including Airto Moreira, Ron Carter, Sam Brown, Hubert Laws, and Toots Thielemans.

Astrud Gilberto gained international fame in the mid-1960s following her recording of the famous bossa nova song "The Girl from Ipanema", while Stanley Turrentine was known for his distinctive work as a jazz musician and his earthy blues style.

Gilberto With Turrentine is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on translucent green coloured vinyl, housed in a gatefold sleeve.

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

Today, Anjimile Chithambo, better known as Anjimile, announces his new album, The King, out September 8th, his first full-length since 2020’s breakthrough Giver Taker. To herald the announcement, he shares lead single, ‘The King’, accompanied by a visualiser by Daniela Yohannes, whose striking painting takes centre stage on the album cover.

Highlighting the artistic shift from Giver Taker to now, ‘The King’ opens with a lofty, melodic choir, an intro that belies the song’s motives. Suddenly, sinister arpeggios interrupt the reverie, and the voices grow darkly serious. Deeply steeped in the confusion, grief, and rage of being Black in America, ‘The King’ pushes back against the tired adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” hissing, “What don ’t kill you almost killed you// What don’t fill you//pains you// drains you.”

“If Giver Taker was an album of prayers, The King is an album of curses.” In his second album, Anjimile continues exploring what it means to be a Black trans person in America. The brutally honest reflection of 2020’s deadly summer is less reminiscent of the pink cloud of early sobriety and more rooted in the reality of seeing brutality with clear eyes. Drawing from influences ranging from religion, Phillip Glass, and lived experiences, the album is a grand step forward for Anjimile. Nearly every sound you hear on The King comes from two instruments: an acoustic guitar and Anjimile’s own voice. Other than a few beautiful contributions from Justine
Bowe, Brad Allen Williams, Sam Gendel, and James Krivchenia (Big Thief), the album is the result of a year in LA working intimately with Grammy and Juno winner Shawn Everett.

Influences enter into the frame ranging from '90s trance, to early M83, to Yoko Kanno anime soundtracks. With its M1 piano stabs, supersaws, and glimpses of Amen breaks, the album charts a luminescent space between 5 a.m. warehouse raves and the urban freeways of its cover image-- romantic, nocturnal, and reckless in its velocity and emotional abandon.

Producer Scrappy Jud Newcomb and Cleaves teamed up for the third time in early 2022 between Covid surges to record a new batch of songs, Slaid's first in five years.

Familiar themes of struggle and resilience will be a surprise to no one. As Scrappy puts it, "This album speaks to the hopeful, the hard working, the battered, confused, and the sad. But above all to the believers in the city of freedom that we heard in the stories of our youth and all those FM radio hits."

The first single, "Through the Dark," was co- written with Slaid's long- time collaborator and life- long friend, Rod Picott ("Broke Down," "Take Home Pay").

Slaid describes it simply as "a song about offering comfort in hard times."
Joseph Hudak of Rolling Stone calls Cleaves "a master storyteller, one influenced not by the shine of pop-culture but by the dirt of real life."

"More than 20 years into his career, Slaid Cleaves just keeps getting better . . .

There are few contemporaries that compare. He's become a master craftsman on the order of Guy Clark and John Prine." - Austin Chronicle

Before he was old enough to legally drink, there were "Best Of," rarities compilations, and .zip files floating through the ether.

Whenever industry prospectors earmarked him as the next big thing, he disappeared back underground, only to reemerge sharper, leaner, weirder.

Though only 26, the St. Louis- born rapper and producer has seen enough for several lifetimes--and raps as if he's tapped into many more. But after a few years of highs, lows, and traumatic odysseys, he was able to stare straight into the abyss and conquer it. This regained confidence is exhibited on fish don't climb trees, the largely self-produced new album that reaffirms him as one of rap's great auteurs.

While working on "fish", he vowed to be more true to the emotions and experiences he'd endured. Being true to those fractured, discordant feelings requires a prismatic approach. And so you get fish's exhilarating hairpin turns: from downtempo dub ("bora bora") to 808s rattling through a haunted house ("tourniquet"), beats that sound as if they're molting into new shapes in real time (the two- song suite of "daze" and "grey theory") to ones that that plunge to the
bottom of a pocket ("spirits").

The album's title comes from the maybe-apocryphal Einstein quote, about how a fish judged by its ability to climb trees will "spend its whole life believing it is stupid." For Watson, this meant embracing the cheery first half of the quote ("Everybody is a genius"), but also being cognizant of the dark undercurrents that flow just beneath seemingly innocent misjudgments and mis-categorizations.

The sessions with Walla (Death Cab for Cutie, Tegan and Sara, Foxing) struck the perfect balance between preparation and experimentation, injecting new life into the band's style of soft- hearted Midwestern indie rock with an ever so subtle Americana twist. The solidified Ratboys lineup stretched and expanded their vision in the studio, adding unexpected elements and instruments like rototoms, talkboxes, and fiddles. The result is Ratboys' most sonically diverse record, shifting wildly from track to track. It flexes everything from fuzzy power pop choruses on "Crossed That Line" and "It's Alive!" to a warm country twang on "Morning Zoo" to mournful folk on the titular track. After more than ten years and four studio albums, The Window finally captures Ratboys as they were always meant to be heard--expansive while still intimate, audacious while still tender--the
sound of four friends operating as a single, cohesive unit.

Belgian jazz veterans W.E.R.F. records and JazzLab are celebrating their 30th anniversary together with three unique creation projects for which they are joining forces. One of them is with percussionist Chris Joris, a veteran of Belgian jazz who is releasing a haunting new project.

Until the Darkness Fades' immediately says something about Chris Joris' career path, in which the musical and the personal invariably overlap. This percussionist has written one of the most colorful chapters of Belgian jazz. For many years he was active within various genres, but is now mostly praised as the percussionist who constantly demolished boundaries. Not only between all those oppressive genre boxes - pop, experiment, theater, world music, jazz - but also between complete worlds.

Chris Joris was playing "world jazz" long before there was that term, and he signed on for some hot-blooded jazz classics, with "Out Of The Night" perhaps the best-known example. That album was originally released in 2003, was then unavailable for years, but is back on shelves in 2023 and on vinyl for the first time. And rightfully so. Joris also eagerly seized the prospect of a new tour and a brand new album for a musical self-portrait. With "Until the Darkness Fades," he highlights different aspects of his musical identity, both expected and unexpected.

Joris composed new material, but also keeps a prominent place for free improvisation. It will be a tantalizing dichotomy full of hybrid sounds, with familiar and less familiar sounds, between romanticism and uninhibited adventure. He explores these in the presence of notable associates on violin and cello. In this way, he combines earthy percussion with the freedom of jazz and the elegance of chamber music. Discover this story of a Belgian master who is far from finished.

At the end of the 60s and early 70s Brazil was a dream. It was fashionable everywhere in Europe and therefore in France too. One thinks of 'Samba Saravah' from the Un homme et une femme OST, Françoise Hardy and her record produced by Tuca, Isabelle Aubret and her 'Casa Forte' or France Gall with 'Zozoi'. Three Brazilian musicians exiled in France, Edson Lobo (bass), Fernando Martins (piano) and Nelson Serra (drums) form the Trio Camara. They met a group of friends who loved Brazilian music, all professional musicians, but who wanted to remain anonymous, hence the name of the band : Les Masques (The Masks)…

Claude Germain (Les double six), José Bartel, Marie Vassiliu, Pierre Vassiliu … Indeed the singers forming Les Masques are from being unknown. In 1969 they entered Studio Davout with le Trio Camara to record "Brasilian Sound". Composed of 11 tracks, it is a superb album, masterfully produced and recorded, a gripping record to listen in one go and transports us in atmospheres both dreamy and naïve which belong to that period. Produced in 500 copies on CBS, 'Brazilian Sound' was not, unfortunately, a success and it is today impossible to find the original French pressing (which sounds much better than the Canadian pressing released at the same time). This reissue on Le Très Groove Club is welcome, so that 50 years after its release, a larger audience can discover this beautiful record, echo of a once and for all past era.

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.