Im Sommer 1968 traf sich der 18-jährige Genesis P-Orridge (damals Neil Andrew Megson) mit Freunden in einem bescheidenen Dachgeschoss, um mit Klängen zu experimentieren. Das Ergebnis war "Early Worm", eine Sammlung von Aufnahmen, die die aufkeimende Kreativität eines Künstlers einfing, der später eine Schlüsselfigur der Avantgarde-Musik werden sollte. Diese Sessions, die 1969 auf ein einziges Acetat gepresst wurden, zeigen eine furchtlose Erforschung von Geräuschen, Improvisationen und Tonbandexperimenten, die Einflüsse von Psychedelia, Fluxus, John Cage und Beatnik Bohemia widerspiegeln. "Early Worm" ist ein Zeugnis für P-Orridges frühes Engagement, musikalische Grenzen zu überschreiten. Die rohen und ungefilterten Klanglandschaften des Albums bieten dem Hörer einen seltenen Einblick in die Gründungsmomente, die schließlich zur Gründung von COUM Transmissions, Throbbing Gristle und Psychic TV führen sollten. Remastered und in einer limitierten Vinyl-Pressung, mit Linernotes geschrieben von Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, die den Zeitgeist des UK Undergrounds der späten 60er Jahre in Erinnerung rufen. "If nothing else, (Early Worm) revealed that P-Orridge's approach to music was defiantly left-field from the start: noise, improvisations and tape experiments that sounded a little like a more chaotic version psychedelic folkies the Incredible String Band." . The Guardian
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The Morning Early release their debut LP via the LNFG Cartel in June 2025 - If you like your guitar power pop tinted with west coast American soul, this is one for you. Shades of Roger McGuinn and Gene Clark permeate throughout. Originally formed in the mid 1990's the band enjoyed some success in the central belt and released one single before going their separate ways. Back gigging now, they began work on this LP in 2023.
Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.
It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.
Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.
In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.
No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.
For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.
“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."
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'Spring Board: The Early Unrecorded Songs" ist/war das letzte leidenschaftliches Projekt von Chills' Martin Phillipps vor seinem plötzlichen Tod. Es ist eine engagierte Neuinterpretation früher, unveröffentlichter Songs, die zu seinem künstlerischen Abschied, einem bleibenden Vermächtnis und einer Erinnerung an sein großes, unterschätztes Talent werden. Das Album wurde mit der Liebe und dem Enthusiasmus seiner Band, der Familie und Freunden abgeschlossen. Martin Phillipps, Sänger, Songwriter und Hauptmotivator der Chills hat in den 2000er Studio- und Live-Alben veröffentlicht, während er mit dem typischen Elan in sein sechzigstes Lebensjahr ging. Inmitten dieser Dynamik suchte er immer noch in alten (Demo-)Bändern nach den Ursprüngen, die 1987 zu seinem weltweiten Erfolg geführt hatten, der zwar über Nacht eintrat und doch sieben Jahre brauchte, um zu zünden. Diese frühen Songs und Skizzen wurden wieder aufgegriffen, überarbeitet und schließlich auf Album gebannt. Spring Board" ist somit das letzte Kapitel des unermesslich bedeutsamen Schaffens des Martin 'The Chills' Phillipps, ist alarmierend, persönlich, spröde und manchmal hoffnungslos optimistisch. Hier blickt ein Mann zurück auf eine wellenförmige Karriere, die zu nichts Geringerem als Kultstatus führte. Die Lieder eines Menschen, der seine Wurzeln und die innersten Gedanken, Hoffnungen und Ängste seines jungen Ichs wiederentdeckt und zum erstenmal. Spring Board" enthält Beiträge von Julia Deans von Fur Patrol, Elroy Finn und Split Enz, Neil Finn von Split Enz/Crowded House, Hollie Fullbrook von Tiny Ruins, Greg Haver von den Manics, Troy Kingi, Shona Laing, Tami Neilson, Dianne Swann (Everything That Flies) und Clementine Valentine von Purple Pilgrims. The Chills 2024 sind/waren Martin Phillipps, Oli Wilson, Erica Scally, Callum Hampton und and Todd Knudson. Doppel-LP, UV Spot Klappcover, klassisch schwarzes Vinyl mit dlc oder Digisleeve CD mit Lyric-Poster-Booklet
'Spring Board: The Early Unrecorded Songs" ist/war das letzte leidenschaftliches Projekt von Chills' Martin Phillipps vor seinem plötzlichen Tod. Es ist eine engagierte Neuinterpretation früher, unveröffentlichter Songs, die zu seinem künstlerischen Abschied, einem bleibenden Vermächtnis und einer Erinnerung an sein großes, unterschätztes Talent werden. Das Album wurde mit der Liebe und dem Enthusiasmus seiner Band, der Familie und Freunden abgeschlossen. Martin Phillipps, Sänger, Songwriter und Hauptmotivator der Chills hat in den 2000er Studio- und Live-Alben veröffentlicht, während er mit dem typischen Elan in sein sechzigstes Lebensjahr ging. Inmitten dieser Dynamik suchte er immer noch in alten (Demo-)Bändern nach den Ursprüngen, die 1987 zu seinem weltweiten Erfolg geführt hatten, der zwar über Nacht eintrat und doch sieben Jahre brauchte, um zu zünden. Diese frühen Songs und Skizzen wurden wieder aufgegriffen, überarbeitet und schließlich auf Album gebannt. Spring Board" ist somit das letzte Kapitel des unermesslich bedeutsamen Schaffens des Martin 'The Chills' Phillipps, ist alarmierend, persönlich, spröde und manchmal hoffnungslos optimistisch. Hier blickt ein Mann zurück auf eine wellenförmige Karriere, die zu nichts Geringerem als Kultstatus führte. Die Lieder eines Menschen, der seine Wurzeln und die innersten Gedanken, Hoffnungen und Ängste seines jungen Ichs wiederentdeckt und zum erstenmal. Spring Board" enthält Beiträge von Julia Deans von Fur Patrol, Elroy Finn und Split Enz, Neil Finn von Split Enz/Crowded House, Hollie Fullbrook von Tiny Ruins, Greg Haver von den Manics, Troy Kingi, Shona Laing, Tami Neilson, Dianne Swann (Everything That Flies) und Clementine Valentine von Purple Pilgrims. The Chills 2024 sind/waren Martin Phillipps, Oli Wilson, Erica Scally, Callum Hampton und and Todd Knudson. Doppel-LP, UV Spot Klappcover, klassisch schwarzes Vinyl mit dlc oder Digisleeve CD mit Lyric-Poster-Booklet
Après une série de singles, deux EPs intitulés "Le Temps des Sentiments" et "3x5", une tournée, des live sessions et une vidéo COLORS, LYNN se prépare maintenant à sortir son premier album. En attendant ce nouvel opus, le vinyle "Early Works", pressé en quantité très limitée, regroupe les morceaux qui lui ont permis de se faire connaître, tels que “Rêve Éveillé”, “Tes Petites Fesses” ou encore “Qu’en Est-Il”.
Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.
If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.
Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.
It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.
Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.
In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.
No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.
For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.
“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.
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Last delivered 81 days ago available to reorder, subject to availability
Obwohl Rüdiger in den siebziger Jahren als Mitglied einer lokalen Beatgruppe beeindruckte, drängte ihn die zunehmende Beschäftigung mit Künstlern wie Neu!, Tangerine Dream, Reich und Riley in Richtung Elektronik und Experimentalmusik, ein Stil, der besser zu seinem einsamen Temperament passte. Auf der Suche nach klanglichem Ausdruck überwand er seine mangelnden elektrischen Kenntnisse und lötete mutig weiter, um Orgeln, Effektgeräte und selbstgebaute Effektgeräte und selbstgebaute modulare Systeme, die alle im Dienste seines spezifischen Sounds stehen. Was genau ist nun der Sound von Synrise"? Ausgewählt aus seinen ersten vier Veröffentlichungen, "Queen of Saba" (1981), "Silver Steps" (1981), "Wonderflower" (1982) und "Earthrise" (1983), bietet dieses Septett Sci-Fi-Hymnen und Sinuswellen-Requiems, nebulöse kosmische Collagen aus schnarrenden Rhythmusboxen, gurgelnden Sequenzen und synthetisierten Chören. Obwohl sie ursprünglich auf vier verschiedenen Kassetten veröffentlicht wurden, gehören diese sieben Tracks alle zum selben Klanguniversum - nur nicht zu dem, in dem wir leben.
Early James’ 2024 erschienenes Album „Medium Raw“, das von Dan Auerbach produziert und in Buddy
Jacksons Honky Château aufgenommen wurde, gilt als sein bisher überzeugendstes Werk. Die Zusammenarbeit mit Auerbach verleiht dem Album eine düstere Authentizität, die Early James’ gefühlvolles Erzählen
und seine kraftvolle Stimme einfängt. Die Produktion beinhaltet einen Field-Recording-Ansatz, der dem
Album ein organisches, lebendiges Gefühl verleiht, das seine emotionale Tiefe noch verstärkt. Medium
Raw“ taucht tief in das Herz der Americana ein und vermischt Blues-, Rock- und Folk-Einflüsse mit einer
ungefilterten Note. Als begnadeter Lyriker in der Tradition des Southern Gothic webt Early James dunkle
Geschichten, die von rohen Emotionen durchdrungen sind und gleichzeitig das Skurrile mit dem Tiefgründigen verbinden. Die zwölf Tracks des Albums sind ein Zeugnis seiner unnachgiebigen Leidenschaft für eine
musikalische Landschaft, die Grenzen überschreitet.
This is the first re-issue of these two classic Jean Carne tracks since first released together in 1988. Jean performs the two step gem “Early Morning Love” in her shows to this day, it’s most anticipated, and she’s back in the UK to sing it again April 2024.
Pioneering in the 80' and 90's and an absolute spearhead in the world of post-punk, cold and new wave, EBM, electro... a series of albums and compilations from the extensive Antler Records archives are now being released again. The first compilations 'Early Years Vol. 1 and Vol 2” were received with great enthusiasm and flew out the door.
Now there is already Vol. 3 with again carefully chosen gems from the rich Antler archives with carefully selected recordings of influential bands such as The Klinik, Snowy Red and A Split Second.
Again a great compilation of the best what the Belgian synth-wave/EBM scene had to offer in the mid-eighties of the 20th century.
"Early Doors documents many of my travels, interactions and celebrates the wonderful connections I've made through music since 2007. From Glasgow to São Paulo and back again, many of the tracks included have been in my life for years at this point and remain obsessions. Some were lying unheard on hard drives, others tucked away in a corner of the internet. They’ve all reached my attention through a combination of lasting friendships, chance encounters and staying curious. After appearing on the occasional mix over the years, it's a real buzz to share them with you now in a more formal format. Musically you’ll find synths, dub, gay electronics, self taught piano compositions, improvised jams and intriguing covers." Andrew Thomson
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Last delivered 23 months ago available to reorder, subject to availability
Bonus 7”
A. Rincón de Luna (2.55)*
B. Voices (2.34)*
Singer/Songwriter Juliet Lawson’s album, ‘Boo’, was released on the Sovereign label in the UK in 1972. The album was the confident debut of a young British artist and featured twelve of Lawson’s own compositions.
In the same wave of early 1970s English singer-songwriters such as Nick Drake, Vashti Bunyan, Christine McVie and despite being described at the time as ‘Britain’s answer to Joni Mitchell’ ‘Boo’ was to prove her only major label release with limited commercial success.
Over the next 50 years the album’s reputation has slowly grown and is today an expensive and collectible item. ‘Boo’ is presented here in its entirety.
The first pressing of the vinyl edition of the album also come with a bonus 7-inch single featuring two early demo tracks produced by ex-Yardbirds founder Paul Samwell-Smith, who also produced Carly Simon and Cat Stevens. Special Limited-Edition Album with bonus 7” Single + Download Code.
Includes interview with Juliet Lawson and exclusive photography.
"Back in stock - Early Takes: Volume 1 is a compilation album of outtakes and demo recordings by George Harrison, released posthumously on May 1, 2012. The recordings appeared in Martin Scorsese's 2011 documentary film George Harrison: Living in the Material World and were originally issued as part of the Deluxe version of the DVD release. Producer Giles Martin compiled the album, working with engineer Paul Hicks. The majority of the tracks date from the sessions for Harrison's 1970 triple album All Things Must Pass.
Available on 180g black vinyl."
