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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unavailable on vinyl for over 20 years, ‘Sings Reign
Rebuilder’ was the stunning 2001 debut LP from Set Fire To
Flames - a sprawling, adventurous 13-piece Montreal
collective, including seven members of Godspeed you black
emperor! plus others from bands like A Silver Mt Zion, Fly
Pan Am, etc.
The sole reason FatCat’s 130701 imprint was founded, the
LP remains an incredible and unique document. Recorded
over a five-day period in a rickety old house in a communal
atmosphere of long-duration improvised creative activity,
operating on no sleep / confinement / intoxication, it was
brilliantly edited to mix post-rock guitar-scapes; extended
passages of scratchy, freeform improv and concrete
clatterings; atmospheric location recordings; stirring,
chamber string arrangements; deep/sparse drones; and
Kraut-like, heavily rhythmic workouts.
Described on its release by TimeOut as “one of the most
broodingly beautiful, dramatically emotional, hauntingly
evocative albums likely to ever scrape at your soul… This
record will kill you”; and by Pitchfork as “a gripping testament
to the power of emotional expression in music... a
marvelously inventive and powerful album.”
Perhaps the most dynamic and adventurous record to come
out of the early 2000s Montreal scene around Godspeed you
black emperor!.
Long-awaited first ever reissue of a classic album, which sold
out of its original (only) pressing within weeks of its release
on 15th October 2001 and has been unavailable since.
Remastered at Dubplates & Mastering and issued in a
heavyweight black vinyl double LP edition, including lavish
gatefold packaging, 20th Anniversary-branded OBI strip and
original 24-page 7” x 7” booklet with full colour print and eight
tracing-paper pages plus full digital download coupon.

Volta Recordings – a brand new label digging in those much-prized vaults that hold some of the creme de la creme of Italian house, officially licensed, remastered and reissued for a new generation to indulge in.

First up an absolute classic club stomper from the early '90s. Peaktime piano house, produced by the prolific Luigi Stanga under the one-hit and out, S.L.D. moniker. Pure ecstasy bubbling up through those joy-filled chords, fizzing synths, choice vocal samples and grooving basslines. Too right we’re getting hot.

Here at last is the reissue of the most sought-after track by French New Beat band French Theory. Originally released in 2008, this tribute to Boccacio (the revered temple of New Beat and EBM, located in Belgium) struck at the heart of the movement’s soul. It quickly gained cult status for its gloomy atmosphere, heavy industrial beats and catchy melodies that propelled the classic New Beat sound into the 21st century.

Out of print since then, it’s back in a limited edition, with the added energy of a powerful remaster by cult techno and acid master Thomas P. Heckmann (Trope, Drax, etc.), plus a brand new diversion exclusive to this vinyl on the flip. Get ready to wave the white glove again, and get lost in the music!

French theory is the New Beat alias of Guillaume U. Chifflot, one of the few French techno veterans in the New Beat & Techno-house genre, who started releasing tracks in the early 90s on his own multimedia label n9. Relaunched in the mid-2000s, the label releases techno and electronica, while pioneering an upgrade of New Beat in the wake of the Techno Body Music movement.

Inspiration Information Is Presented In An Opaque Metalic Silver Pressing. Well before Shuggie Otis cut his debut album, musicianship and performance had long been a part of his life. The son of rhythm and blues legend Johnny Otis, Shuggie learned to play guitar as early as the age of two, and performed professionally with his father's band at eleven. Throughout his long and illustrious career he performed on records for the likes of Frank Zappa, Al Kooper, Etta James, and George Duke, to name a few. Despite only moderate success upon its initial release, Shuggie Otis' third album Inspiration Information turned into underground smash decades later and has since maintained a level of cult status normally reserved for mysterious, unearthed legends like Sixto Rodriguez or Lee Fields. Inspiration Information is also noteworthy among Shuggie's other releases, as it was entirely self-produced, as opposed to being overseen by his father Johnny Otis. Shuggie's signature blend of baroque funk is on full display, but with a heavy dosage of psychedelic soul blended in, resulting in an album that's equally swarthy, lush, funky, and emotional; gathering all the best bits of Marvin Gaye, Love, Miles Davis, and even Os Mutantes. Inspiration Information is more than worthy of all acclaim awarded to it, despite the delayed reverence. Track Listing: A1. Inspiration / Information A2. Island Letter A3. Sparkle City A4. Aht Uh Mi Hed B1. Happy House B2. Rainy Day B3. XL-30 B4. Pling! B5. Not Available

Luca LTJ Trevisi (LTJ Xperience) began his dj/producer career in the 80s. As resident dj in two of the most famous Italian clubs of the time, Kinky in Bologna and Cap Creus in Imola, he was one of the first Italian jocks to spin House and to re-propose those black music, jazz and latin-bossa classics from the 70s that at the end of the same decade would have given birth to the Acid Jazz and Rare Groove movements. His first single release in 1988, titled First Job, together with Kekkotronics, was also the first release ever on Bologna based Irma Records. It was featured in a lot of compilations of the time and entered several playlists, rapidly reaching cult status for many UK and US djs. During the early 90s LTJ delivered a couple of singles in a kind of pre-breakbeat style: Dont Stop The Sax, released all over Europe, and Funky Superfly. He also produced US singer Tameka Starrs single Going In Circles, always for Irma Records, still a classic in the downtempo/r&b field. In the second half of the nineties Luca began to produce acid jazz bands like Bossa Nostra, still today one of Irma Records main acts. Their first album had Vicky Anderson as special
guest and today is still considered one of the most important European acid jazz albums. In the following years he concentrated on developing his activity as collector and rare vinyl merchant, which gave him the chance to get in touch with djs from all over the World and to discover many forgotten gems from the past years. Thanks to this experience he was able to create two extremely successful rarities series on Irma Records:

Groovy and Suono Libero. In the meanwhile LTJ started to dj outside Italy too, performing in important venues like the Blue Note and Jazz Café in London, Giant Step in New York and Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland. In 1999 saw the release of his first solo album under the LTJ Xperience moniker. The album was produced with the collaboration of fellow Irma artist and producer Ohm Guru and had Taka Boom and Jackson Sloan among the guests. Two of the main tracks on the album are brazil house classic Sombre Guitar and title track Moon Beat, which became a true hit of the Chill Out genre, featured in dozens of important compilations.

After making countless productions for Irma Records, including their second album When The Rain Begins To Fall (with the participation of the historic Spanish-American singer Joe Bataan), and the recents singles as ORGAN MIND / I LOVE YOU (favorite track by Larry Heard ) & ON THE FLOOR / SOUND MACHINE, LTJ is devoted almost exclusively to re-edit and reconstruct tracks from the past with the addition of sounds and rhythms in post production for labels like SUPER VALUE, SMALL WORLD DISCO, HOT GROOVY RECORDS, OH CRISTO! increasing the production of this new musical genre that is currently defined as beatdown/slo-mo, working with international labels such as Far Out Recordings, Sleazy Beats, Future Classics, E.A.R. Music For Dreams, Apersonal Music, Roam Recordings, !K7.

Raised somewhere between Ministry Of Sound’s ‘The Annual’ and early music message boards, Kolya’s taste still extends from obscure tape-only releases to turn-of-the-millennium trance anthems.

As a DJ, it’s taken the South Londoner from Bugged Out! to Berlin – at home supporting Demdike Stare with coldwave, spinning runway house alongside MikeQ while a House Of Trax resident, or unleashing noughties fidget at the closing of Camden’s infamous Lock Tavern. All of which is to say, his debut EP for Ecstasy Garage Disco arrives steeped in musical history.

Recorded during lockdown, it draws on perhaps his greatest love, deep (deep, deep) house. A soaring synth work out, opener ‘Stick Together’ is a case in point, standing on the shoulders of giants like Peter Daou, but with a life-affirming exuberance all of its own. ‘Miss Honey Prancin’ In The Twilite’, meanwhile, is a tribute to Moi Rene, as well as a love letter to Project X Records in general, her vocal recast over a groove that alternates between outer space iciness and snare-rolling high drama.

On the flip, ‘Crying Over Spilt Poppers’ blends the flavour of amyl-soaked Gherkin with the emotional nuance of Nu Groove, joyous and reflective in equal measure. And ‘Jamais Vu’ signs off, its bumping kick pattern and intertwining melodic layers connecting glimmering 90s electronica and contemporary, future-facing house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joni Mitchell was at a turning point 50 years ago. After making four acclaimed albums with Reprise Records, including her 1971 masterpiece Blue, she left the label to join the brand-new Asylum Records in 1972. Over the next seven years, Mitchell would record some of the most acclaimed music of her career while changing her musical direction by adding more jazz elements into her song writing. The evolution culminated in 1979 with Mingus, her collaboration with jazz titan Charles Mingus, and her studio last album for Asylum.

The Asylum Albums (1972-1975), the next instalment in the Joni Mitchell archive series, explores the beginning of that prolific era. The collection features newly remastered versions of For The Roses (1972), Court And Spark (1974), the double live album Miles Of Aisles (1974), and The Hissing Of Summer Lawns (1975). All four were recently remastered by Bernie Grundman. The Asylum Albums (1972-1975 will be available on 23rd September on 5-LP 180-gram vinyl (Limited Edition Of 20,000) and as a 4CD set. The cover art for the set features a previously unseen painting by Mitchell. The set also includes an essay by friend and fellow Canadian Neil Young.

The Asylum Albums (1972-1975), follows Mitchell’s musical evolution over four albums as she embraced more jazz-inspired pieces and moved away from the folk and pop of her early years. It includes essential tracks like her first Top 40 hit, “You Turn Me On, I’m A Radio” and her highest-charting (#7) single “Help Me,” plus favourites like “Free Man In Paris,” “Raised On Robbery” and “In France They Kiss On Main Street.” Mitchell has been intimately involved in producing the collection, lending her vision and personal touch to every element.













l b6. Judgement Of The Moon And Stars (Ludwig’s Tune) 2022 Remaster











[x] e1. You Turn Me On I’m A Radio (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[y] e2. Big Yellow Taxi (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[2022 Remaster]
[xa] e4. Woodstock (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xb] f1. Cactus Tree (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xc] f2. Cold Blue Steel And Sweet Fire (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xd] f3. Woman Of Heart And Mind (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xe] f4. A Case Of You (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xf] f5. Blue (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xg] g1. Circle Game (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xh] g2. People’s Parties (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xi] g3. All I Want (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xj] g4. Real Good For Free (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xk] g5. Both Sides Now (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xl] h1. Carey (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xm] h2. The Last Time I Saw Richard (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xn] h3. Jericho (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xo] h4. Love Or Money (Live) [2022 Remaster]

International Anthem proudly presents Step on Step, a double LP collection of newly unearthed solo home recordings created by enigmatic producer, arranger, and composer Charles Stepney in the basement of his home on the Southside of Chicago during the years before his untimely death in 1976. Stepney’s signature “baroque soul” sound is known to many as it’s heard in his prismatic orchestral arrangements for Rotary Connection, Minnie Riperton, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, Earth, Wind & Fire, and many more. His sound has been used by countless samplers in the hip-hop world including Kanye West, The Fugees, and MF Doom. But in comparison to the post-mortem renown of his sound, or the artists he supported while he was alive, Stepney is a greatly underappreciated figure… a genius relegated to the shadows.

Step on Step is Stepney’s eponymous debut album, featuring 23 bare-bones, demo-style home recordings, most of which are Stepney originals that were never again recorded by him or any other artist. Highlights from those original works include “Denim Groove,” which hears Stepney on piano and congas alongside his first instrument (the vibraphone), and “Look B4U Leap,” one of several kinetic lo-fi dance numbers that feature Stepney having fun with an early-gen Moog synthesizer. It also features prototypical, seedling-style demos of Stepney compositions for Earth, Wind & Fire, including “That’s The Way of The World,” “Imagination,” and “On Your Face,” as well as the original version of “Black Gold,” which would eventually be recorded by Rotary Connection (as “I Am The Black Gold of The Sun”).

A collection of home recordings Charles Stepney -- the late composer/producer who worked with Earth Wind & Fire, Deniece Williams, Rotary Connection, Minnie Ripperton, Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, and more, and was sampled by Kanye West, Madlib, MF Doom, A Tribe Called Quest, The Fugees, and more -- called Step On Step is coming out September 9 via International Anthem.

Birimingham’s TRMNL Records returns with its third release this September, coming courtesy of Paris, France’s Djebali.

Djebali has been releasing his twist on House and Techno since 2008 via the the likes of Fuse London's label and sub-label Infuse, Burnski’s Aesthetic, Chez Damier’s Balance Music, REda daRE Records and of course his own self-titled Djebali label which has been the predominant home for his output over the past decade.

Here though we see Djebali join the roster of the fledgling TRMNL Records, launched by the Birmingham club night of the same name so far the imprint has unveiled two EP’s by East End Dubs and Samu.l to date and here the story continues.

Title-cut ‘Rave Vision’ leads with a squelchy acid bassline and robust drums running alongside gritty stabs, spacey atmospheric pads and choppy vocal samples. ‘Line 56’ follows, shifting focus to dubby stab sequences, heavily swung drums and a bumpy bass groove all flowing with a subtly nuanced feel throughout.

The Hypnotic floaty sounds of ‘Cotton Candy’ then round out the release, diving deeper via an amalgamation of airy synth flutters, resonant synth licks and snaking subs atop a shuffled drum groove.


DJ Support:

Marco Carola
Chris Stussy
Rich Nxt
Davide Squillace
Mahony
Ilario Alicante
Jorge Savoretti
Silvie Loto
Hermanez
Tobi Neumann


DJ Feedback:

Rich Nxt - Top groove!

Salvo Borrelli - una bomba !!!!

Carlos Valdes - dope!

Alejo Galvez - lovely grooves!

Hermanez - Loving the grooves.

Tobi Neumann - Decent grooving & sounding tracks..

Karlos Sense - Wow!!!.Amazing EP. bro!!!

Mirko - super ep!

Mancini - Great EP as usual from Djebali!!

Sasa - Solid EP

Adrian Barr - Solid release, cool club rollers

Jade - Brilliant !

Lis Sarroca - all nice!

Juliche Hernandez - MASTER Djebali!! Amazing!!

Ocean Lam - Lovely summer vibes! Rave Version is my fav,

Chris Davis - rave vision is amazing!

Jorge Savoretti - Love Line 56, Djebali groover all the way

Lele Sacchi - cool deep acid driver, reminiscent of early 00's brit electronic deep, yess.

Cristi Cons lands with his debut on Adam's Bite, serving up two pristine cuts of electronic wizardry. The label has previously meddled in strong 90ies aesthetics, delivering starry-eyed homages to days long gone. With the eternal wunderkind at the controls, things get kicked up another notch: following efforts from his peers, he's unearthing, deconstructing, and reassembling some of Frankfurt's halcyon days' most essential sonics.

Drop the needle on the A side to access „Black Swan”, a contemporary house burner perfectly imagining the early trance experiments heard in the dark womb of dance music history. Sprawling across the flipside, „Ahead of the Curve” finds Cristi Cons exploring the psychedelic side of this sound, revealing delicate details to lose your mind in – and a playful bassline keeping bodies earthbound and flowing. Zipping and zapping from Goa to Mainlandia via Bucharest, there's plenty to fall in love with here. Over and over again.

With releases already under their belt from Bilal and Deyayu and a split 12" from Alex Dima and Cristian Sarde, London's Obscura is shaping up to be one of those destined to take up position towards the top of tech house shopping lists everywhere. That said, the four tracks from Arnic have a cheekier, mor sprightly vibe than a lot of tech-house, the likes of 'Night Children' and their tribute to the Glasgow clubbing institution that is the 'Sub Club' drawing on disco and early Chicago house influences, all within the economic and stripped down framework that put a big smile on a DJ's face when they're in the mix.

Fogbank presents The Best of Joey Chicago, an intro collection to some of Joey's best work on the label since its inception in 2011.


DJ Feedback

Roy Davis Jr:
"The entire EP Bangs the floor! Especially J Paul Ghetto’s Remix, keep the heat coming!!!"

C. Da Afro:
"One of my fav disco house producers finally on my favorite format. Vinyl. 4 track ep for every dj who respects the dancefloor. Get your copies & rock the crowd."

Angelo Ferreri:
"All mixes are killer! Really nice funk!"

Nicky P (Johnick/Henry Street)::
"If you're a fan of Joey Chicago, this is for you!!!...obviously, "The Funk Hustle" is the worldwide monster smash here, but, my personal favorites would be "Remember The Way" and "Feels So Good", as they both have the sound of those 90's house tracks that we were making back then, in the jackin' style of today! Grab this entire collection, you won't be disappointed!!!"

Sean Biddle (Bid Muzik)::
"I have been a fan of Joey since his early days. This EP is classic Chicago at his best."

repressed !

Last in the Nature Boy series we offer you another 6 previously unreleased pumping house trax produced by Milo Johnson in the early 90's. Yes the ruff disco years! Found on dusty DAT tapes, now carefully mastered and cut on wax.

Cypherphunk debuts on Dance Trax with an incredible 4 machine jack track 12 that draws inspiration from the minimal techno blueprint created by artists like Daniel Bell & Todd Sines back in the early 1990s . Deeply mechanical “body house” cuts set for dance floor annihilation!

Synthetic Music From Yugoslavia 1980-1989

"The galloping technical progress in the second half of the last century dominated all spheres of daily life, art and culture. In the music industry machines took over the role of classical instruments and did not stop at RnR, punk nor industrial music. No one could resist the challenge, but also the prevailing trends in the 80s. The music industry was influenced by the electronic virus globally, not sparing even the remotest corners of the planet, producing bands like Depeche Mode, New Order, Soft Cell or lesser known ones like Liquid Liquid, Section 25, The Wake as well as the pioneers of the electronic music Silver Apples, Pierre Henry,etc .
What was going on in the music industry of former Yugoslavia and at Jugoton, the biggest YU music label at that time? The all over answer is given by a new release of Everland Music: Electronic Jugoton - Synthetic music from Yugoslavia 1964. - 1989. Vol. 1

Electronic Jugoton is the first part of two double albums, where the second part will even go back to pre-electronic music from 1964. Both double albums were initially released by Croatia Records (ex-Jugoton) in 2014 on a 2CD set with no less than two and a half hours of material (47 songs, 35 performers), showing the contemporary trend of Jugoton at that time towards avant-garde and provocative directions in electronic music. This untimely compilation is released for the first time on vinyl now on two double LPs, housed in gatefold sleeves by Everland Music, where part 2 will be released in 2023.
The brave and insightful creators of the compilation Electronic Jugoton, veteran crate diggers Višeslav Laboš and Zeljko Luketić, have excelled at reconstructing the musical past of electronic music in Yugoslavia from 1964 – 1989. Jugoton's extensive research included the most exciting and progressive moments of pop and disco music, early rap, electronic responses of new wave, RnR, post punk and industrial bands to the current trend of the 80s, but also pioneers of avant-garde electronic music.

Electronic Jugoton part 1 is officially opened by the band Laboratorija with the song Devica 69, which opens a window to a completely new and experimental world in former Yugoslavia.Laboš and Luketić have boldly chosen the material without reservations, suggesting that for the first time in one place we have a section of forgotten, unique underground bands like Beograd, Data, Brazil, The Master Scratch band, DU DU A and beyond.
Besides the excellent underground bands, we find popular performers of the time performing less well-known songs: Denis & Denis, Oliver Mandić, Slađana & Neutral Design.

Electronic Jugoton part 2 is partly dedicated to unique electronic music in the performance of important Yugoslav punk, new wave, RnR and industrial bands: Zana, Pekinška patka, Električni orgazam and Borghesia, while the second part of the material is focused on avant-garde early electronic music in Yugoslavia, where the works of composers Igor Savin, Branimir Sakac, Igor Kuljerić and Miroslav Miletić were presented. Luketić and Laboš rescued the obscure electronic tune Elektra by Zdenka Kovačiček, who was at that time Jugoslovska Soul and funk diva.

The uniqueness and quality of this compilation are also audio stories for children, which were extremely fertile ground for an experimentation with electronic sounds, as they should be highly imaginative to attract the attention of the childrens. Electronic Jugoton is also the first compilation in which the listener will find fragments of interviews with actors from the time gave for Jugoton Express. This was a series of promo vinyls printed in extremely small quantities in the 80's and intended to be exclusively for radio stations. An average of 30 minutes of promotion material and interviews with musicians were available for the first time through this compilation.

The value of this compilation is time and priceless. The only question is whether you will be fast enough to catch your copy of the limited double vinyl editions!"

LP with Digital Download Card

"Honestly, this album from Sam Redmore is having it" - Craig Charles

"Very clever. Very Nice." – Fatboy Slim

"Totally loving this. It's been on repeat since I heard it." – Nemone

"Amazing. Where can I get all your stuff?" - Jazzy Jeff

Having established himself first as a DJ and then as a remixer, Sam Redmore is now very much making himself known as an original producer of quality global grooves that can light up any dancefloor, carnival or party.

After garnering early support for his remixes from the likes of Gilles Peterson, Quantic, Nightmares On Wax, The Nextmen, Lauren Laverne, Danny Krivit and Craig Charles, Sam has built a name for crafting soul-drenched remixes of the classics, with his army of fans eagerly awaiting every new re-work.

Signing to Jalapeno Records for his debut album of original material, Sam has kept the eclectic tastes of all his fans satisfied with a series of very different singles showcasing the wide range of styles he is known for - all picking up rave reviews and a very wide spread of radio support including Radio 1 / 6 Music / Radio 2 / Jazz FM / Worldwide FM in the UK as well as hitting Number 1 most added on US college radio charts (world).

The single Nagu in particular has become a mainstay on daytime 6 Music but each successive release has been finding new fans. From his killer cumbia covers (Tears / Just Be Good To Me) through to the afro-house exuberance of One More Time and leading neatly up to Just Can't Wait, an extremely soulful disco house floorfiller, this is an album with broad appeal both in the UK and overseas.

In the meantime, Sam has been honing his live shows throughout 2022, with festival bookers keen for a piece of the action. Boomtown, Wilderness, Green Man, Kendal Calling and a whole host of others have seen what the punters at Mostly Jazz, Funk & Soul Festival saw last summer, when Sam debuted his live show on the main stage of a key festival on the Saturday afternoon. Anyone who was there and saw the audacious 12-piece live ensemble playing their first show knew they were seeing something special.

Belgian duo Chassé keep the acclaimed Black Jukebox series rolling with a 4-track EP that pays homage to classic US house sounds in accomplished style.

‘Fake Real’ kicks off with sunny abandon, all breezy piano chords and synth sax creating an authentic early-’90s NYC house vibe over plump plucked bass and lazily skipping percussion. Deep pads, bright strings and delicate synth arps bring the atmospheric edge.

‘People Dancing’ ups both the chonk and swing factor, getting more jaunty with its live piano chords and lilting rhythm. Hazy, filtered electric piano chords swoon over classic drum hits, the deep and the pumping meeting in perfect harmony.

‘Nightlife’ takes snatches of classic house vocal and peppers them between melancholic chord samples and dramatic snare hits, and a tense breakdown that exacerbates the subtle qualities of this soulful stomper. A few carefully placed organ notes are all that’s needed to draw the most out of the cool bassline funk.

‘True Game’ rounds off this delicious EP, finding itself somewhere between the classic US house vein and the French touch era, where graceful pads cut against jazzy organ chords, pitched-down vocals, garage snare patterns and seductive bass throbs.

Limited Pressing.

Invisible City Editions returns with an official repress of a fantastic double-sided private press rarity from 1989 Detroit. Featuring two legendary Inner City alumni Producer/keyboardist Engineer Art Forest and Inner City background vocalist dancer/singer Shawn Pittman. On the A side a lush slow modern soul slow burner “Dreams'' features a deep,spatial throbbing bass line with glistening synths floating underneath cool angelic hypnotic vocals by Ms Pittman.” 'Dreams are only Dreams till you make it real' chants Shawn Pittman and we’re lead down a dazzling maze of mirrors. With “I'm Losing Control (Extended Bass-ment Club Mix)” on the flipside a wild late night warehouse dub remix features sci-fi vocal effects,fostex tape loops and ultra-heavy bass and driving drum machines. Minimal lush soul perfect for early mornings and the post-club world and a wild sci-fi house winner for late night club sessions. An IC fave! Remastered by Brandenberg/The Carvery (Note: we’ve also removed the drum machine going out of sync that was on the original press) Official Repress via Art Forest and his label Wildboy.Essential stuff!

Art Forest is an Electronic Engineer and production wizard from Detroit Michigan. He originally recorded 2 of Inner CItys’ Biggest Hits “Good Life” and “Big Fun” and continues to record to this day. Art Forest still finds and repairs equipment to add to his studio today. He also recorded for Paula Abdul “Straight Up” and Madonnas’ “Justify My Love” Shawn Pittman was a singer and dancer from Detroit who was a good friend of Inner City vocalist Paris Grey. Shawn Pittman sang backing vocals and harmonies on “Good Life” and “Big Fun”.