Cerca:earth ball

NOW Music is pleased to announce NOW Presents…Classic Soul, a stunning 5LP boxset of 85 of the greatest 60s & 70s Soul tracks ever... Out September 22nd!



LP1 opens with ‘I Say A Little Prayer’ from the “Queen of Soul”- Aretha Franklin, the peerless ‘Walk On By’ from Dionne Warwick and followed by massive hits from Marvin Gaye with the #1 ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine’ and Stevie Wonder’s ‘I Was Made To Love Her’, plus classic tracks from The Temptations and Otis Redding. Flip to the other side for legendary groups – The Supremes, The Ronettes, The Marvelettes, The Velvelettes and Martha Reeves & The Vandellas.



LP2 begins with the powerhouse vocals of Tina Turner (with Ike) on ‘River Deep, Mountain High’. Top tracks from the Jackson 5 & the Four Tops give way to a run of Northern Soul classics from Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons with ‘The Night’, ‘Tainted Love’ from Gloria Jones, Frank Wilson’s legendary ‘Do I Love You’, and ‘Green Onions’ from Booker T. & The M.G.'s. Side 2 begins with the superb vocals of Ben E. King with ‘Stand By Me’ and Percy Sledge with ‘When A Man Loves A Woman’. Another Otis Redding classic alongside the genius of both James Brown and Nina Simone brings this LP to a close.



The A-Side of LP3 kicks off with the signature smash from Aretha Franklin ‘Respect’ before the first UK #1 for the Motown label from The Supremes with ‘Baby Love’, and there’s still room for Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, The Drifters, and another #1 from Freda Payne. Side B begins with one of the most iconic and funky baselines ever on ‘Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone’ from The Temptations and the classic grooves ‘Move On Up’ from Curtis Mayfield, Isaac Hayes’ ‘Theme from “Shaft”’, the emphatic ‘War’ from Edwin Starr and the cool sophistication of ‘California Soul’ from Marlena Shaw lead to the closing track ‘Could It Be I’m Falling In Love’ from The Spinners.



LP4 begins with a run of beloved tracks from iconic artists opening with the politically charged masterpiece ‘What’s Going On’ from Marvin Gaye, followed by Al Green, Bill Withers and Billy Paul, plus The Stylistics and The Delfonics to add to the selection of celebrated groups on this release. The second side begins with the exceptional ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song’ from Roberta Flack, before the stunning vocals of Minnie Riperton’s ‘Lovin’ You’ and Deniece Williams, The Three Degrees and Gladys Knight. The Jackson 5 bring this disc to a close with their timeless ballad ‘I’ll Be There’.



LP5 contains a run of 1970s favourites beginning with ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ from Diana Ross and ‘You're The First, The Last, My Everything’ from Barry White. ‘Fantasy’ from Earth, Wind & Fire, ‘Summer Breeze, Pt. 1’ from The Isley Brothers and ‘Love Train’ from The O’Jays all feature before the Commodores kick off the final side with ‘Three Times A Lady’. Rose Royce, Peaches & Herb and a second selection from Gladys Knight & The Pips feature along with George Benson, before the “Prince of Soul” Marvin Gaye brings this essential collection home with ‘Let’s Get It On’.



85 tracks across 5 stunning LPs, NOW Presents Classic Soul... Out September 22nd!

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

Sixth album by Christoph Heemann and Timo van Luijk. Four years after we got Lost in Spice we reached the point of Arrival. An altar on the surface of the water is burning with flames. Behind it you can see a half of the Earth's globe, and on it there’s a bright throne. A pale, translucent ruler wearing a crown sits in the throne. The globe is surrounded by a ball of shadows on which sits a larger dark ruler on a dark throne. Behind the globe are mountain peaks, and all of it is reflected in the water. Above the mountains are clouds which merge into rivers and end in a curved horizon on which forests stand, and the sun rises between them. Above this horizon is another sky with lunar crescents and comets. Above this sky are rows of angels bent over, above which the stars shine. The sun shines in the top left corner and the crescent moon in the right.

Actual Earth Music - Volume 1 & 2’ presents two caustic, yet alluringly unreal live sets from Canadian noise-rock entropy hunters Earth Ball. Following on from the group’s critically appraised ‘It’s Yours’ LP (released 2024 on Upset The Rhythm - UTR164) this release captures the band at the peak of their powers, playing live, composing spontaneously.
Side A features Earth Ball live at The Fox Cabaret in Vancouver, supporting Wolf Eyes on August 4, 2023. Jeremy Van Wyck from the band considers this “the gig that sent us into orbit, really. Causing Olson & Young to wax poetic about our interstellar jams to a fine bloke across the big sea. Upsetting our casual rhythm and forcing our hand. All that talk led to an LP, ‘It’s Yours’, and a full UK tour the following spring”.
Now, with the birth of this live series ‘Actual Earth Music’, it seems only fitting that Volume 1 should be this gig. It’s a doozy. Listening back is a pure revelation. Earth Ball whip up a vortex of thrashing wild energy, the ecstatic release is off the charts. “You don’t always catch every nuance of the jams as they come down. I mean, this one felt good, but upon listening back to the tapes, it sounded very good” confides Jeremy. “It reminded me of Von Trier’s Melancholia: the sound of a large sphere coming toward you to bring doom. However, this one reverses course, heading away to some other shore, bathing you in reflective bliss before saying goodbye—instead of ending humanity as we know it”.
Volume 2 occupies Side B of this LP, showcasing a collaborative summit from the second night of their recent Café OTO residency on May 21, 2024. This event featured Earth Ball laying down three separate sets—all collaborations. This second recording presents their opening performance and features pivotal UK improv luminary Steve Beresford on piano and free-jazz phenomenon Chris Corsano on drums.
Running Time: 42 mins

Green vinyl repress, standard single sleeve printed inner. 'The Time Has Come' is an absolute master class on words and guitar twisting into one another - the poetry goes beyond simple observation into deeply personal and profound lore. A timeless document of sweet and haunting melodies. My favorite record of all time.' Ryley Walker. // "I've never written songs, regularly, because I never considered myself a songwriter. I've only ever really considered myself a ballad singer, which is what is most important to me. The stories... the ancient nature of the situations and the human condition. And obviously, it's changed so much over the centuries that those songs have been sung, but it always retains that essence of something that's universal... to humanity, and I've always wanted to touch that. I think I wanted to understand people; I think I wanted to understand myself. It's a way of finding the truth. I felt I belonged to that music." Anne Briggs // Offering some of her first original compositions, 'The Time Has Come' was a break from tradition in more ways than one for Anne Briggs. Where previous recordings displayed the unaccompanied melodies of her voice, this album - originally released by CBS in 1971 - brings additional instrumentation in the form of guitar and bouzouki. The result is that her vocals are not submerged, but heightened - the plucked strings providing the perfect foil for her crystalline inflection. 'The Time Has Come' is a mix of Anne's own songs alongside some notable covers (Lal Waterson, Steve Ashley, Stan Ellison, Henry McCulloch). All are graced with the quietly self-assured elegance of Anne's playing, with sounds ranging from the breezy 'Clea Caught A Rabbit' to the terrible beauty of 'Wishing Well' - each song typifying the bouzouki or guitar style. To say that Anne was an accomplished picker is to do her something of an disservice - the intricacy of her finger-work rivals - and more often than not eclipses - any number of her contemporaries.

Italian composer and saxophonist Laura Agnusdei returns with “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” a career defining record that sees the artist diving into uncharted waters, a profound timeless meditation on our relationship with planet Earth, the eco-conflicts arising and the fascination with non human forms of life, backdropped to a vivid soundtrack of coral exotica, spiritual Jazz, fourth-world minimalism, tropical electronics, tribal futurism and contemporary elegance.

Every step of Laura Agnusdei’s path, from electroacoustic experimentation to her constant research based upon the acoustic dimension of wind instruments and their interaction with polymorphic electronic sounds, seems to have pivoted into a new sense of awareness, as if the mind and intellectual practice has finally caught up with the body, the heart and the soul, resulting in her most organic and transcendent work yet. “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” is loosely inspired around a trifecta of pioneering ideas that explore unconventional reality: James Bridle’s ‘Ways Of Being’ with his radical story that mixes ecology, tech and intelligence; Luigi Serafini’s late-70s fantastical ‘Codex Seraphinianus’, an unparalleled collection of flora, fauna, anatomies metamorphosed into new fragile beings; J.G. Ballard’s climate-fiction foreshadowing sci-fi ruminations. These influences shift Agnusdei’s musical trajectory injecting doses of terrestrial malaise, the earthy sub-saharan ‘Ittiolalia’ with its wah-wah filtered sax and trance inducing groove; the rubbery playfulness of ‘Oasi Bar’; the gentle eco-system of ‘P.P.R.N’ reminiscent of Herbie Hancock’s innovative synthesis of funk, space and synthesizers; the kaleidoscopic northern lights of ‘Emperor Penguin Lullaby’, where south-east Asian echoes reach icy shores; the Jon Hassell hyper-ambience of ‘Cuttlefish REM Phase’; the post-apocalyptic march of ‘The Drowned World, a jazz standard for an artificial civilization on the brink of self-destruction. Nothing feels out of place and it’s no coincidence that one of the most powerful messages on the record is delivered on centerpiece ‘Are We Dinos?’ via an interview conducted with two preschoolers. Radical optimism or sonic liberation?

Laura Agnusdei’s tenor sax cuts deep all across “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica”, a laser baton raised up to the clouds, a conductor orchestrating devotional soundscapes for a three-eyed dolphin, guiding us through prismatic pastures and acidic oceans. Her tropicalized realm is pin-pointed with Miles-like sheer clarity, a bristling nakedness on the verge of exploding at any time, creating an album where ascension becomes the unifying code.

xd H2 Rockers Revenge - Walking On Sunshine feat. Donnie Calvin (12" Version)

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2004’s 'Mantra Of Love’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what others had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2004 …

“Acid Mothers are strong folk. You'd think they'd tire quickly, all tucked away on their island, strewn about on tree roots while baking their lungs and throats to a knotty green tinge. But instead of waltzing through life like hippies, they manage to not only tour and put out records every year, but also to fill those albums with 30-minute jams and assorted freakouts. And while evil jam bands would fill that space with guitar work taken from the Classic Rock Manual of Clichés, Makoto Kawabata and company assault listeners with frighteningly dense walls of white noise, psychedelic swirl effects and, yes, even guitar solos-- albeit ones that are more Merzbow or Keiji Haino than Gary Rossington. Truly, AMT's endurance and threshold for cosmic lashings are both worthy of admiration.

But how much AMT can you take in one sitting? If there's anything this band has taught us-- via records such as 2002's Electric Heavyland and the ferocious Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O-- it's that they're not afraid to reach for the upper regions of consciousness. On Mantra of Love, they offer two titles over the course of one hour, never faltering along the way, and it's as if we listeners are just brief visitors passing through a never-ending, spontaneous group trip. For all I know, Kawabata has hundreds of hours of this stuff on his hard drive-- at any single moment, this record's sheer volume of sound is a clamor to behold. However, if you aren't dialed into that the particular space AMT inhabits (for me, it's the mystical fire-baptism standby), you might not hear their glorious noise for all the, well, glorious noise.

"La Le Lo" begins as a lengthy psychedelic ballad sung by Cotton Casino (who doubles on "beer & cigarettes"), who is accompanied by her own ghostly backing vocals. The band is playing a mantra as Casino waxes earth-mother stylings to the moon. The serenity is broken by a patented AMT rave led by Kawabata's electric sitar (!) solo. Ace rhythm section Tsuyama Atsushi ("monster bass") and Koizumi Hajime hold things together, as does the generally decent recording quality (not a given for these guys), but the real money is in effects-- lots and lots effects. Much like France's Richard Pinhas or AMT's countrymen in Les Rallizes Denudes and High Rise, the band understands the collaborative power of solo + overdriven Moog sirens and screams. And, also like those artists, Acid Mothers can go on all night if need be. About 25 minutes into this piece, any hell that hadn't already broken loose gets its due, and the band speeds to a fiery climax before winding down into glimmering astro-ambience.

The second track, "L'Ambition dans le Miroir", also begins as a minor ballad featuring Casino's haunting solo vocal. The Mothers set her up with a faux-blues drag and a thick buffer of synth-rays; when Casino actually enters, she fights for airtime with an array of falling stars and cosmic dust. However, this time there is no overwhelming solo to power the comedown. Casino intermittently coos in the background while droning horns keep the auxiliary pixie haze from evaporating. As they showed on In C and La Novia, AMT are more than adept at creating calmer storms-- listeners just have to catch them in the right light. Mantra of Love doesn't necessarily capture the most inspired moments in their canon but as usual with this band's records, it's rarely at a loss for moments of horror or grandeur.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. : Cotton Casino - Vocal, Beer & Cigarettes - Tsuyama Atsushi - Monster Bass, Vocal, Cosmic Joker - Higashi Hiroshi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Koizumi Hajime - Drums, Percussion, Sleeping Monk - Kawabata Makoto - Guitar, Bouzouki, Electric Sitar, Violin, Hammond Organ, Speed Guru

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

NOW Music is proud to present the newest addition to the ‘Yearbook’ series: NOW – Yearbook 1981. NOW – Yearbook 1981; a celebration of the eclectic and creative brilliance of the year in pop. 4 CDs of 85 tracks that defined the charts in 1981. Available on a 4CD special edition which is housed in ‘hard-back book’ packaging, including a 28-page booklet with a summary of the year, a track-by-track guide, a quiz, and original singles artwork, and as a standard 4-CD package. A limited edition 3LP set pressed in translucent red vinyl, limited to 3,000 units and a 4CD set

Anthony"s post-Slapp Happy output, for years an underrated-to-outright unknown quantity, achieves a new dimensional plane with this third archival release from his personal tape library. Home of the Demo triangulates upon the art-pop qualities found in his previously unreleased 1976 LP OUT, and "79"s new wave-adjacent Flying Doesn"t Help, finding Anthony"s early/mid-80s home recordings drifting whimsically in and out of the actual mainstream.

Unite, released in 1992, marks the return of co-founder Khalis Bayyan, bringing a renewed energy to the album with a more R&B-oriented sound. This work combines romantic ballads and danceable grooves, while maintaining sophisticated arrangements. It reflects the group’s musical essence, with tracks like “Better Late Than Never” and “My Search Is Over,” blending funk and soul with elegance and emotion, offering a refined and energetic fusion of their influences.

The sophomore effort from Gray/Smith refines their petroleum-based, hard-lullaby sound with a decidedly dusty precision. To call this pair's brand of country-rock détournement "cosmic" would be too breezy: L. Gray and Rob Smith prefer to stare into sunken depths, channeling their recondite affections for lay-by mauve zones and red-dirt guitar wanderings. Formed in the outer-edges of Kings and Richmond counties circa 2020, Gray/Smith is something of an East-Coast involution. L. Gray (guitar and vocals) and Rob Smith (drums, guitar and vocals) are both trusty veterans of "band's bands" like Pigeons (Soft Abuse), No-Neck Blues Band (Revenant, Locust), Rhyton (Thrill Jockey), and The Suntanama (Drag City), freewheeling groups known for mining from polyglot sources: rough-hewn folk and the spiritual avant-garde, bargain-bin hard rock and and collector's-choice psychedelia alike. On their first, self-released LP Gray/Smith, serendipitously recorded at Gary's Electric at the top of 2021, the pair trained their assured chops onto the great American song-form, honing a murky but tight approach that variously cribs "urban cowboy" and finger-picked primitivism. A string of cryptic appearances soon followed, including a short-lived residency at a now-shuttered vodka dive; a micro-tour with Coloradan songstress Josephine Foster; and a series of backyard and barroom gigs sharing stages with compatriots like Stella Kola, Blues Ambush, Samara Lubelski, and Wednesday Knudsen. Heels in the Aisle is the slipshod, burnt-out, mid-'70s unter-prog comedown to their debut's backwoods, bushy-tailed, early-'70s, country-rock meanderings_expect more unrestrained riffs, artful studio wizardry, and worn-down introspection. Joining the ranks of bloodshot-eyed, blues-rock medleys à la Canned Heat's "Parthenogenesis" and Grand Funk's "Into The Sun," "The SDSPS" is the nearly side-length opening cut, an expanded song-cycle condensing and riffing on the themes of their debut. "Help Me" ventriloquizes Pomona College outlaw Kris Kristofferson's slow-roaring ballad of libidinal woe. On the flip side, "Verrazano Tile" and the title track pay heed to lower bays of Staten Island, while their arrangement of the traditional Zimbabwean tune "Guabi Guabi" is a bright Dead/Feat-like jaunt with blissed-out wah-wah pay-off. "Gaslight Boulevard" is lean, mean, and eight-beers-in space rock, and the closing track "Kekule's Ring" is a slack-jawed, wistful crash back down to earth. All this, packaged in a luxe, expertly-printed sleeve photographed by downtown artist Lary 7 and designed by Eric Wrenn (Sophie's Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides).

Son Goku is back to face a new threat that is descending upon Earth. Synopsis: Goku goes to train with Master Kaio, who informs him that a powerful enemy has awakened from a 39-year slumber: Beerus, God of Destruction. Beerus is searching for a warrior who appeared to him in a dream, the Super Saiyan God, whom he wishes to challenge. The vinyl includes numerous BGM from the Future Trunks and Universe Survival arcs. They range from dark to epic in a very orchestral style with the legendary Norihito Sumitomo composing (DBZ: Battle of Gods, the film, as well as video games like Gran Turismo). Some BGMs were created by Kazuya Yoshii and Takafumi Iwasaki, the latter having worked on musical projects for spin-offs of Digimon and Konosuba.

The mighty U Roy is the originator, the man who put the DJ phenomenon on the map and made it an artform. From Kingston Jamaica to the corners of all the Dancefloors, Clubs and Sound Systems across the world. U Roy (B. Ewart Beckford, 1942, Kingston, Jamaica) began his musical career spinning records for Doctor Dickies Sound System way back in 1961. The mid sixties saw him working for Sir George The Atomic before moving in 1967 to the man who best shaped his sound King Tubby on his Home Town HI - FI. Tubbys work in the dub field, dropping out vocals on his versions for the Sound Systems allowed U Roy to voice over these spaces adding to the excitment of the Dance!!!

U Roy moved into the recording arena firstly cutting two disc's for Producer Lee Perry 'Earths Rightful Ruler' and 'OK Corral' and then following this with 'Dynamic Fashion Way' and 'Riot' for Producer Keith Hudson. Producer Duke Reid seeing the protential in this new found form brought U Roy to his Treasure Isle Studios to voice over his back catalogue of Rocksteady Hits. His first three releases for Duke Reid 'Wake The Town', 'Rule The Nation' and 'Wear You To The Ball' held the Top 3 positions for 12 weeks in early 1970's.

We have compiled some of U Roy's best loved cuts from his mid 70's period when all were still looking at him for guidence.  The opening cut Call On Me sees him working over Delroy Wilson's 'Got To Be There'.  You Never Get Away gets U Roy answering Delroy Wison's 'Keep On Rocking'. Johnny Clarke's 'Time Gonna Tell' with rootsy bassline turns into Every Knee Shall Bow. Cornell Campbell the Gorgon himself gets his 'Check Mr Morgon' turned into Gorgon Wise. Johnny Clarke's Hold On gets reworked. Jeff Barnes 'Blowing In The Wind' tuned into Number 1 and alongside King of The Road which sees Lennox Brown blow his saxophone over the instrumental 'In The Swing of Things', was one of U Roys first releases. Linval Thompson's 'Let Jah Arise' is versioned to Joyful Locks. I Originate which lends us to the title of this compilation, says it as it is, a classic built over Dave Barker's 'Shocks of Mighty'. Linval Thompson again provides the backbone with his Cool Down Your Temper cut for U Roys version. The mighty Burning Spear's Creation Rebel although providing our next track, it is Johnny Clarke's version that gets worked over. Leo Graham's 'Birds of A Feather' turns into Stick Together. Soul Syndicates instrumental 'Goliath' grows into Riot. A big hit for Max Romeo Wet Dream sounds great under U Roy's new rendition.

Two extra tracks for the CD release of this album sees the great voice of Slim Smith on his 'Let's Stick Together' becomes ‘Ain’t To Proud To Beg’ and Cornell Campbell's 'Stand Firm' works with
U Roy to sign us off with ‘I Shall Not Remove’.  A fine collection i hope you agree to the Daddy of all DJ's who in his own words ''I Originate, so you must appreciate, while the others got to imitate'' says it all really……

The third album from beloved Nashville indie rockers The Medium, City Life is the first they’ve produced on their own. Recorded in their homes with the help of a few friends, this grassroots approach to recording captures them simultaneously at their most relaxed as well as their most airtight. Ironically, City Life presents the quartet sounding their most country yet – sonically embracing some of the musical territory of their hometown as well as lyrically wrestling with the challenges of its rapid changes. The band’s penchant for saccharine harmonies, hypnotic riffs, and earnest ballads cohere everything into a uniquely relevant take on a classic 70’s rock sound. The record envisions ‘city life’ as a call for a better world – a society driven by care over productivity; by community over profiteering.

Vinyl Packaging: Full color jacket featuring original artwork by Callum Rooney. Can I Communicate With the Unknown? is the new album from Go By Ocean, moniker of Northern California based singer / songwriter / producer Ryan McCaffrey. Co-produced alongside Tim Bluhm (The Mother Hips) and David Glasebrook, the album features contributions from a wide cast of characters, ranging from the tight knit community of Phil Lesh’s much loved Terrapin Crossroads to the wider West Coast indie-rock scene, including members of The Mother Hips, Sugar Candy Mountain, ALO, Tea Leaf Green, and more. Building upon McCaffrey’s catalog of songs, the new album finds inspiration in the down-to-earth music of 1970’s Marin County, when songwriters like Michael Hurley and Jesse Colin Young lived out in Olema and Point Reyes, the kind of places where songs blow in on the breeze from the Pacific Ocean. Lyrically, the album traces a hero’s journey as the narrator struggles with addiction, eventually finding peace and freedom in a tumultuous world, wrestling with metaphysical and spiritual ideas along the way. Highly anticipated new album from Go By Ocean, co-produced by Tim Bluhm of The Mother Hips. Press coverage includes reviews and features in Austin Town Hall, Glide Magazine, Psychedelic Baby Magazine, and more. UK/EU Publicity handled by Chris Carr & Mal Smith. “...washed with breezy beachy vibes…” - Glide Magazine // “...marries the bright guitar arrangement of The Byrds with an updated indie appeal.” - The Wild Is Calling // “...you can almost feel the hope over the hills waiting for you with open arms.” - Austin Town Hall // “‘...satisfyingly artful and I would venture to guess you’ve never heard anything quite like it.” - Ear To the Ground Music // “We will be spinning the hell out of this record for the rest of the summer.” - Up To Hear Music // “...it’s not hard to imagine some of these songs floating in on the coastal fog, ascending ghosts indeed.” - Psychedelic Baby Magazine

Strut present the first definitive retrospective of an icon of 1970s and ‘80s soul, jazz and disco, Patrice Rushen, covering her peerless 6-year career with Elektra / Asylum from 1978 to 1984. Joining Elektra after three albums with jazz label Prestige, Patrice had shown prodigious talent at an early age and had first broken through after winning a competition to perform at the Monterrey Jazz Festival of 1972. By the time of the recordings on this collection, she had become a prolific and in-demand session musician and arranger on the West coast, appearing on over 80 recordings for other artists. She joined the Elektra / Asylum roster in 1978 as they launched a pop / jazz division alongside visionaries like Donald Byrd and Grover Washington, Jr. “The idea was to create music that was good for commercial radio / R&B,” Patrice explains. “We were all making sophisticated dance music, essentially.”

Drawing on some of the leading musicians in L.A. like saxophonist Gerald Albright, drummer “Ndugu” Chancler and bassman Freddie Washington and keeping an open minded approach from her training in classical, jazz and soundtrack scores, Patrice’s music was a different, more intricate proposition to many of the soul artists of the time. “L.A. musicians were not so locked into tradition,” she continues. “None of us were accustomed to limitation and the record label left us to take our own direction.”

Early classics like ‘Music Of The Earth’ and ‘Let’s Sing A Song Of Love’ were among Patrice’s first as a lead vocalist before her ‘Pizzazz’ album landed in 1979, featuring the unique disco of ‘Haven’t You Heard’ and one of her greatest ballads, ‘Settle For My Love’. “Although ballads make you feel more vulnerable as an artist because they are often personal, I think listeners relate to that sincerity,” she reflects. By now, Patrice’s records were supremely arranged and produced as her confidence as an all-round writer, producer, arranger and performer grew. Slick dancefloor anthem ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ and the ‘Posh’ album in 1980 led to her landmark album ‘Straight From The Heart’ two years later. Receiving little support from her label, Patrice and her production team personally funded a promo campaign for the first single from it, ‘Forget Me Nots’. It went on to peak at no. 23 on the Billboard Hot 100 and the album was later Grammy-nominated, while the track became a timeless anthem and popular sample, inspiring Will Smith’s theme for the film ‘Men In Black’ and George Michael’s ‘Fastlove’.

Patrice’s final album for Elektra, ‘Now’ kept the bar high with sparse, synth-led songs including ‘Feel So Real’ and ‘To Each His Own’. It concluded a golden era creatively for Patrice which remains revered by soul and disco aficionados the world over.

‘Remind Me’ features all of Patrice Rushen’s chart singles, 12” versions and popular sample sources on one album for the first time. Formats included a 3LP set and 1CD fully remastered by The Carvery from the original tapes. Both formats include an exclusive new interview with Patrice Rushen and rare photos.

• First definitive Patrice Rushen compilation released on vinyl since the ‘80s
• Includes all of her chart hits, DJ favourites and sample sources
• Official release featuring full interview with Patrice Rushen about her career and music • Features rare photos from her personal collection + some of the photographers she has worked with during her career
• Fully remastered by The Carvery from the original ¼” tapes
• Start of full Patrice Rushen reissue programme from her Elektra era

Drei Jahrzehnte Doro - drei unvergessliche Nächte - für immer festgehalten auf Blu-ray/DVD, CD und Vinyl.
"Strong And Proud - 30 Years Of Rock And Metal" erscheint nun als Re-Release auf DOROs eigenem Label Rare Diamond Productions und ist als Ltd. Edition Gatefold Doppel Vinyl in transparent Curacao erhältlich. 14 Killersongs inkl. der unverzichtbaren Megahits "All We Are und "Für Immer".
Eine fantastische Erinnerung für alle, die Doro während ihres 30 Jahre-Jubiläums weltweit live gesehen haben, und eine Offenbarung für alle Fans von guter, harter Rockmusik und erstklassiger Live-Performance.

Since 2008 our Spiritual Jazz series has presented unlimited horizons. Each album celebrates the rich tradition of African-American songs based on the belief in a higher force than oneself and has also focused on geographical areas, such as Europe or Japan, thus recognizing that these territories have immense cultural riches. Religions, like Islam, whose musical traditions have vivid Arabic and North African resonances, have also been highlighted. The stylistic range of all the above is wide.

Yet historic record labels, from Blue Note and Impulse! to Prestige and Steeplechase, have also featured because their catalogues are musical treasure troves that could not be more relevant to Spiritual Jazz, even though they issued vast amounts of music between the late '30s and present day, that have not been confined to any one school.

Spiritual Jazz 16 is a focus on Riverside and its associated sister labels. Riverside itself was founded in 1953 by Orrin Keepnews and Bill Grauer, and became an important purveyor in that decade and beyond of what would be marketed as of modern jazz. That coinage was itself an amorphous, umbrella term that essentially created a demarcation from the vocabulary of pre-war classic jazz and inter-war big band swing, thus recognizing that improvising artists were breaking new creative ground that would subsequently give rise to a flurry of sub-genres, for example bebop, hard bop, cool, modal and Latin jazz. And it's from this multiplicity of sub-genres that we choose the deepest, most vibrant selections that the vast, pan-generational catalogue of Keepnews & Grauer has to offer

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Tools of Oppression / Rule by Deception" is the new full length album by The Hope Conspiracy. The album was engineered by Kurt Ballou and Zach Weeks at God City Studios. Artwork for the release was created by acclaimed artist Alexander Heir (Death/Traitors). This is true sonic violence aimed at political division, economic manipulation, war profiteering, media propaganda and other vile forms of global oppression. Air raid sirens wail as the foreboding "Those Who Gave Us Yesterday" and "The Prophets and Doom" explode forth like burning shrapnel. The hell ride continues with "A Struggle For Power" and "Live In Fear", two vicious blasts supercharged with malice and contempt. "Shock By Shock" and "Of A Dying Nation" introduce doom and gloom heaviness, grinding down the tempo to a mid-paced barrage. "Confusion/Chaos/Misery" picks up the pace, going scorched-earth policy on the sociopolitical nightmares that ensnare us all while "Broken Vessels" plows into overdrive about the opioid crisis and addiction as a whole. This leads to "The West Is Dead" a dystopian hook laden hardcore anthem, and epic closer "The Specter Looms"; An ominous soundtrack to the steady decline of our modern age. There is no question, The Hope Conspiracy is back to make a cold hard statement about existence in the end times.

A deeper dive into the mind of the mysterious man who gave us Niggajazz at the top of the pandemic. Although only a six song ep, the title song gained traction for its jazz bop, house appeal. The follow up, New World Order is the first full length from the artist and displays a wider scope of that exact sound. Written and produced in 2021 NWO comprises tunes for the floor as well as the ride. With lush ballad Black Apple, The Common Suicides latin flare, The Torus’ obscurity and Ota Benga with its tribute to the worlds most renown human zoo attraction, this release is complete and advanced from the introduction received prior. We are pleased to present New World Order in a time when most needed to reflect and absorb carefully. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

As a rock icon and filmmaker with a unique vision, ROB ZOMBIE has continuously challenged audiences as he stretches the boundaries of both music and film. He has sold more than fifteen million albums worldwide, and is the only artist to experience unprecedented success in both music and film as the writer/director of eight feature films with a worldwide gross totaling more than $150 million.

After several successful singles, Ella’s only Sound Stage 7 release was recorded at Music City Recorders in Nashville, Tennessee. The self-titled LP is all classic, no filler and surely ranks among the deepest soul in her catalogue. Full of strong ballads that showcase her raw and emotive style each song is perfectly arranged to showcase Ella's powerful vocals. Standout tracks include ‘Sit Down and Cry’, ‘All The Time’, and ‘ Stop Giving Your Man Away’. The LP also features Ella’s 1969 hit ‘He Called Me Baby’ which entered the top 40 R&B charts and garnered a Grammy nomination. Newly remastered and pressed on audiophile virgin vinyl. Limited to only 500 copies.

London-based four-piece Adult Jazz announce their first full-length album in a decade, So Sorry So Slow, out 26 April 2024 via Spare Thought. Alongside the announcement comes lovesick new single ‘Suffer One’ featuring Owen Pallett, a cautious excavation of self and sexuality, clambering across a gorgeously shapeshifting, filmic five-minutes.

Containing some of the band’s most abrasive but gentle, beautiful and melismatic work to date, So Sorry So Slow has many defining characteristics: romance, panic, devotion and remorse, threaded together by an intentionally laser-focused love. It’s deeply personal, bruised and candid in its expressions of tenderness, and deeply pained in its concurrent reflections of ecological regret. Across its hour-long runtime, a delicate, frenetic energy and glacial heaviness coexist, the band pitting those paces against one another. In their richly experimental timbre, dancing strings and fluttering falsettos prang against a bed of brass drones like a wounded bird.

“We started writing in 2017 and began recording in 2018,” says vocalist Harry Burgess. “We genuinely thought it might be finished in 2018! But things kept developing and, having resolutely not struck while the iron was hot, there was no real external push to rush things after that, so we just kept letting things shift and unfold until it felt right. Listening back to my voice notes it’s nice to notice that there are fragments of ideas from the whole period 2017-2023 which have shaped the record.”

Recorded in bursts at studios across London and in the band members’ flats, at Konk, on the Isle of Wight and in Sussex, So Sorry is unambiguous in its evolution. Sonically, there are sparks of the arrhythmic brightness that afforded the band’s critically acclaimed debut album Gist Is its cult adoration, for fans of Arthur Russell and Meredith Monk, but with a blossoming, melancholic darkness often overhead. Piano sprees and luscious string sections appear like low-hanging stars on a night-time drive, whilst plunging vocal distortions and humming brass loops resurrect heavy limbs in a bad dream.

“I usually have objects as kind of totems for ideas,” explains Burgess. “The album initially started out to do with performance… the totem was a head mic, one of the subtle skin-tone ones, discreet on the forehead of a West End star. A number of the first songs in their original forms were almost musical theatre piano ballads. I think that was really a device to write about my life as the ‘main character’ (pre internet-speak reframing): regrets about romance, relationships - unsustainable relationships with the self and others.”

“However, once we started writing, the ideas about unsustainable personal relationships, loving unevenly and heartbreak conflated with a more expressly ecological regret. Like contending with big feelings of loss, endings, beauty, desolation, and with how much joy the earth contains in it. Feeling so much gratitude bound up in waves of sadness. Maybe witnessing a slow-motion goodbye to all that, or its last gasps. I love the earth and the life it supports so much. I love how ecosystems fit together - even the brutal stuff. It may be basic to say, but now is the time to be laser focused on that love. I was thinking about human centrality on earth, us as the ‘main character’, the way that is served by faith and romanticism, and the subsequent disingenuous understandings of our position in the ecosystem, as only stewards somehow, rather than subjects. The totems at this point: a herald’s horn, lorry inner tubes, archaeological tools. I guess from doom, industry, history respectively.”

“Now I would say the record is about gripping. Totems being: crampons, rope, drips, desalination equipment, accruing various survival tech. I think gripping sums up both of the threads. There’s the emotionally correct clinging to the earth that is the substrate of everything we value, or the delusional clinging to our imagined dominant position. But also the practical, technological aspects of creating a sustainable relationship, of remaining here. Then I think of romance again.”

So Sorry So Slow comes out 26th April 2024 on Spare Thought, mixed by Fabian Prynn at 4AD Studios and mastered by Alex Wharton at Abbey Road.

Adult Jazz is Harry Burgess, Tim Slater, Steven Wells and Tom Howe.

The Cat's Miaow return to World Of Echo with Skipping Stones: The Cassette Years '92-'93, their second compilation for the imprint, and the fourth in a loosely defined series of reissues associated with the group (also including The Shapiros' Gone By Fall: The Collected Works of The Shapiros and Hydroplane's Selected Songs 1997-2003). It's a smart selection of songs by one of Australia's finest independent pop music groups, whose initial run, across the nineties, was as mysterious as it was bewitching. A generous double album featuring thirty-five songs drawn from The Cat's Miaow's history, Skipping Stones lets listeners in on a bunch more secrets. The four cassettes that Skipping Stones draws from - Little Baby Sour Puss, Pet Sounds (both 1992), From My Window, and How Did Everything Get So Fucked Up (both 1993) - were released or assisted by Toytown, a Melbourne cassette label of rare taste, savvy and intelligence. Diving into that two-year period, Skipping Stones is full of surprises, rich with unexpected and inspired detours, while reminding everyone just how clear and distinct The Cat's Miaow's music was from the very start. Looking in from the outside, they always felt like a group that knew just what they were doing, but intuitive as they are, they weren't forcing anything: these songs always sound exactly what they need to be, rough edges, playful moments and all. The Cat's Miaow may have been bedroom dreamers, but their songs were richly informed, with the sweetest of girl-pop moves sashaying into walls of tremolo-d and distorted guitar, jangling six strings tangling with melodic bass that's pure Peter Hook/Naomi Yang, while the gentle trickle of a drum machine or the earthy twitch of brushes on drum skins provided the spine for Kerrie's and Bart's lovely, unforced singing. This double LP on World Of Echo feels like the very core of the thing - some of the most heartbreakingly beautiful, effortlessly lush and deeply moving pop music you're likely to hear. RIYL: Hydroplane, The Cannanes, Magnetic Fields, Belle and Sebastian, Jesus and Mary Chain

Endlich die Wiederveröffentlichung dieses High-Energy-Punkrock Klassikers, der internationalen Band, die aus Scott Morgan (Sonic's Rendezvous Band, Solution...), Nicke Royale (The Hellacopters, Imperial State Electric, Entombed...) und Tony Slug (Loveslug) besteht. Mit Scott Morgan von Sonic's Rendezvous Band (neben Fred "Sonic" Smith von den MC5) haben die Hydromatics eine echte Detroiter Legende in ihren Reihen. Morgan gründete die BAND 1998 zusammen mit Nicke Royale (The Hellacopters) und dem Gitarristen Tony Slug (Loveslug) und veröffentlichte '99 dieses großartiges Debütalbum mit dem Titel Parts Unknown, das den Motor City-Rock-Sound vergangener Tage in Form eines modernen Power-Punk-Rawk-Outfits wieder aufleben ließ und nun endlich wiederveröffentlicht wird. Das Album beginnt mit einem kräftigen Remake von "Earthy" von der Sonic's Rendezvous Band und rauscht die ganze Zeit über weiter, keine Balladen. Morgan singt sich den Arsch ab, und die Band unterstützt seine Stimmgewalt mit furiosen Sound, indem sie mühelos zwischen knallhartem Rock und rauchigem Soul hin und her schaltet. Eine Mischung, die sich Fans der Garage nicht entgehen lassen sollten. Für alle eingefleischte Punk- oder Hardrock-Fans, und alle, die gernn deftig rocken und ebenso auf den swingenden Sound der 60er Jahre stehen, wenn auch durch Wände aus Marshals und einen dicken Vorhang aus Bläsern und Lärm ergänzt. Ein absolutes Muss für Fans von Sonic's Rendezvous Band, MC5, Stooges, The Hellacopters, Bored!...

A Chaos Of Flowers is an album that builds on their ferocious 2023 album nature morte. BIG|BRAVE"s music has been described as massive minimalism. Their fusillades of textural distortion and feedback emphasize their music"s frayed edges as much as its all-encompassing weight. The potency of the trio"s work is their singular artistry combining elements of traditional folk techniques and a modern deconstruction of guitar music. Gain, feedback, and amplitude are essential. For A Chaos Of Flowers guitarist/vocalist Robin Wattie drew heavily on the poems of artists whom Wattie found kinship in, their words resonant with experiences of those often sidelined by cultural norms. "I discovered that most poems from folk traditions or in the public domain seem to be by men - to which I could not quite relate. In my search, I rediscovered some of my favorite works and poets," says Wattie. Guitarist Mathieu Ball and drummer Tasy Hudson help Wattie shape poetry into pieces as dense and impenetrable as they are vulnerable. BIG|BRAVE achieve their colossal sound through minimalist approaches, a deft understanding of dynamics and an inventive employment of percussion and distortion. The trio reconceptualize what it is to be heavy or minimal, challenging perceptions with their illumination of painfully overlooked perspectives. Guest guitarist Marisa Anderson lends earthen, blues-inflected atmospheres to the album, where guitarist Tashi Dorji and saxophonist Patrick Shiroishi amplify the squall. Working closely with frequent collaborator and producer/engineer Seth Manchester, the internal tumult of Wattie"s voice rings out in warbles, haunting echoes, and unearthly harmonies across bold immense walls of distortion. BIG|BRAVE have collaborated with metal monsters The Body on a previous Thrill Jockey release, Leaving None But Small Birds, and have toured internationally with bands like SUMAC, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, SUNN O))), and Lingua Ignota. As they continue to ascend in their journey as pioneers in the contemporary metal scene, it"s safe to say that BIG|BRAVE are here to stay.

, Old fat furry cat-puss , Wake up and look at this thing that I bring, Wake up, be bright , Be golden and light , Bagpuss, Oh hear what I sing. 12th of February, 1974, and for an audience of small children at 1:45pm, a life irrevocably coloured by the wayward wonderings of one saggy cloth cat. Some 44 years later and Earth Recordings opens the door to Bagpuss & Co. once again, revealing for the first time the original music in all its newly-mastered splendour. The 32 tracks that make up the main body of the compositions are – like all good folk music – a patchwork of traditional pieces, half-remembered tunes and pure improvisation. It's testament to Sandra Kerr and John Faulkner's musicianship that the recordings work so well, not only within the context of the television episodes, but as an album in its own right. Of the recording, Oliver Postgate (in his exquisite autobiography 'Seeing Things') says: "Between them Sandra and John could play every sort of instrument from a mountain dulcimer to an Irish fiddle. They knew and could sing every tune in the world and didn't bother with written music, except as a last resort. They were exactly suited to Gabriel the Toad and Madeleine the Rag Doll and in those roles were happy to play whatever music and sing whatever songs would be needed." Those songs manifested themselves as reworkings of familiar tunes ('I Saw A Ship'; 'Row Your Boat'; 'Bucket's Burning'), takes on traditional ballads ('Brian O'Lynn'; 'The Frog Princess'; 'Weaving Song'; 'The Old Woman Tossed Up in a Basket') and delicious flights of fancy ('The Bony King of Nowhere'; 'Turtle Calypso'; 'Uncle Feedle'). The counterpart to Madeleine and Gabriel's more polished ditties are the interludes from the mice; a raggle-taggle chorus that accompanies the creatures' efforts of help (with the mice once famously going on strike when they were not permitted sang as they worked). Again, Postgate muses: "Once I had worked out a few episodes I would make a very rough list of the bits where I though music would be appropriate. I would send it to Sandra and John to think about. Then we would borrow a fairly silent room in a remote house and, taking the various articles that we intended to celebrate with us, would spend a happy day with a tape recorder, thinking up and recording whatever songs and tunes came to mind." The outtakes provide an intimate – and often very humourous – insight into the trio's work ethic, if it can be called such a thing. (By all accounts they sound as though they're having a very jolly time indeed.) Highlights include alternative opening words and end music, as well as Postgate sound-checking in character as Bagpuss. This never-before heard audio provides a real treat for fans (and indeed those new to the Smallfilms stable) – affirmation again to the enduring quality of these special recordings, and the beloved programme that inspired them. "An accidental classic of the folk-roots underground that we never dared hope we’d hear with such clarity."Stewart Lee

repress !

A.Skillz and Krafty Kuts team up once again on this track with funk and soul Sensation Gizelle Smith on Vocals.

Creating a disco, funk summer time groover. Their remix takes the track in a more Chilled slice of Electro Funk.

The track has been licensed to a Monkey Shoulder Whiskey Campaign and will be featuring as part of their space launch project. The brand launched a bottle of whisly into space on a carbon netural Ballon, where it circled the earth and the track was played before decending to earth where the whsikey was used to create a cocktail.

From out of nowhere - if nowhere is the febrile, warped and twilit imagination of Julia McFarlane - comes Whoopee, the second album by J.McFarlane’s Reality Guest. Whoopee is an esoteric, kaleidoscopic movie in music form directed by Julia McFarlane and co-conspirator Thomas Kernot. Full of life, breakbeats and smokey vignettes on the fragile nature of interpersonal relationships, Whoopee is a stylistic evolution from everything McFarlane has done before. Surreal, beautiful in parts and replete with the aching wisdom McFarlane’s songwriting has always promised, this Reality Guest pulls back the curtain on a whole scene of naked truth. Recorded in Melbourne in bursts since the release of 2019’s Ta Da, Whoopee features a new sound palette and band member in Kernot. The duo dive deep into electronic pop tropes, mining digital synths, samples, breakbeats and deep bass grooves, largely dispensing with live instrumentation. If Ta Da took twists and turns with your expectations, offering a Dada-ist, monochromatic take on pop music, Whoopee is McFarlane’s subterranean love-sick pinks, reds, greens, purples and blues. Becoming something of a tradition, the album starts with an instrumental intro pilfered from a 90s’ spy film or cinema intro music, puffing up the listener for the heart-squeezing bathos of Full Stops. Over a bleary backdrop of walking bass lines, jazz- inflected keys and smoked-out atmosphere, McFarlane’s poetry narrates the fragile state of a relationship: “You put a full stop where I thought there’d be a comma, I want the story to continue even with all the drama.” Over a palpable pain, the narrator is revelling in the drama of a relationship, addicted to tumult and heightened emotion. On Sensory, a space age bachelor lounge pad ballad, the converse state of the previous song is explored, here the narrator is battling the numbness of being out of the drama, stuck in a sensory-deprivation tank, anaesthesized and battling to emerge from the fog. Wrong Planet explores an otherworldly pop music, hewing a bright hook out of a sense of confusion. A bona-fide, sing-along chorus bursts out of the narrator musing on the absurdity of existing in this reality. It speaks of one of Julia McFarlane’s main talents, her knack of inspecting human relationships and states with a clear perspective, like an alien visiting Earth and realising everything we are is really, really strange. Whoopee is both more accessible than previous Reality Guest work and somehow more obfuscated. Where the production on Ta Da was dry, sharp and strange, this Reality Guest is blurred, almost smeared with the effluvium of 90s+00s culture and existence. Through it all, it’s hard to deny the undeniable pull of the songs. Precious Boy carries on the lounge theme with a whole sampler of cut up sounds fading in and out of the haze as McFarlane’s voice is right up to the speaker cooing and free- associating, maybe in love or maybe in confusion... maybe they’re the same thing? Sometimes the listener is invited to just bathe in the tone of the vocal, as on Apocalypse, where the texture and timbre of the vocal is luxurious, bathing in piano tinkles and double bass throb. On lead single Slinky, a cut up beat reminiscent of Washingtonian Go-Go drum patterns leads, the song slipping through your fingers, elusive and presenting sound as pure pleasure. Closer Caviar jumps back into the broken breakbeats of a surreal funk, fuelled by the sensory pleasure of the music, a hedonistic whirl in rapture, the narrator now living life to the fullest in all its giddy heights and deep troughs. This is the album’s main character fully-actualised and in the terrible, beautiful moment.

Thee Alcoholics are the brainchild of Rhys Llewellyn, a longtime Rocket Recordings alumnus whose background leans as heavily into the bassbin-shaking realms of electronic music as it does the tinnitus-inducing world of howling, cranked-up ampstacks. Not content with hammering drumskins for numerous floor-shaking records on the Rocket discography from the likes of Hey Colossus and The Notorious Hi-Fi Killers, he’s also been responsible for brain-rearranging electronic works under the Drmcnt and Acidliner monikers. Thee Alcoholics, however - which initially gestated as a result of Rhys himself wanting to pursue the somewhat hostile sound in his own head during lockdown - maps out a collision course between all of the above. Cranky and cantankerous yet lysergically aligned, Feedback is mesmeric rock with swagger, warped into sci-fi shapes by the spirit and sonics of bass and soundsystem culture. The psychedelic shapes here are redolent of the ur-klang of The Fall and the monolithic lurch of The Heads, the motorik malevolence less an uplifting trip to the heavens than a drill down to the earth’s core. Discernible in these jackhammer beats, grimly murmured vocals and delirious dirges to certain heads may be the trash futurism of Chrome, the decomposed stomp of unsung legends Earl Brutus and the electro-punk attack of Six Finger Satellite, yet all of the above co-ordinates are waylaid effortlessly by a balls-out intensity and a 6 fearsome intent on aural oblivion at all costs. Feedback may be elemental and primal, yet this is no psych comfort-blanket nor retrofetishism, rather a repetition-driven journey headlong into intimidating territory unknown. Get on board and strap yourselves in for a bumpy ride.