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"This is the time that we, who have benefitted from the Last Poets shouldbe able to say, 'it's the Last Poets. It's them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years_"

KRS One wasn't just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered
those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation - a poem
written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets' last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who's been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.

In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin
Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album -
Understand What Black Is - that earned favourable comparison with theirseminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion andlyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting - that of reggae music. Trackslike Rain Of Terror ("America is a terrorist") and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they'd lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d'etre remained the same.

"The Last Poets' mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives," wrote their biographer Kim Green. "They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people - that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change."

Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti's best work, dropped by Prince Fatty's Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who'd gathered in East Harlem's Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X's birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group's 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He'd written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. "We were getting ready for a revolution," he told Green. "There wasn't any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as "niggers" and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power." He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. "You're a gash man," Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. "Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven," he says, "it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound_" Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 "stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind." They'd walked into Sylvia's soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn't eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun's poem hasn't lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. "Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn't changed a bit," he admits, except "today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion." Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That's where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called "the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word- music" - a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar's father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he'd joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle. Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he'd learnt in the few weeks since he'd got there. "Niggers are scared of revolution," Umar replied. "Write it down" urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar's own words, "it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else's system of values and morals." And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear - a system born from political choice and that's now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it's put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people's acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets' use of the "n word" that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There's never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand. Umar's two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets' second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom "by any means necessary," and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. "All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares," he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen's ferocious drumming. Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they'd finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty's studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti's band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen's trademark grooves exclaimed, "oh, the Father_ we are home!" Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn't yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape - one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they'd once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who's been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK's now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question. The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets' own. It's important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we're presented with here aren't the result of sampling but were played "live" by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That's where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty's peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all- encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets' album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we're now living in. John Masouri

The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 compiles an unheard, previously unreleased body of recordings by Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz, dissidents from diametric backgrounds who met during the heady days of Downtown New York in the 1980s. This collection reveals the creative and life partners’ radical shared vision of avant-garde pop in all of its boundary pushing freedom, combining Deyhim’s singular approach to vocalization, Horowitz’s invention of new musical languages, and touchstones of traditional music from around the world, creating a new music that ultimately retains a voice entirely its own. Despite their difference in backgrounds and respective journeys, at the time of their meeting in the early 1980s in New York City, Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz were both products of the search for freedom and understanding (and resultant awakenings) that swept the globe and helped culturally define the late 1960s and 70s. Deyhim, born and raised in Tehran, spent her teens dancing with Iran’s Pars National Ballet company, performing weekly on Iranian national television, and travelling her home country studying with master folk musicians and dancers, before relocating to Belgium and joining Maurice Béjart’s prestigious Béjart Ballet of the 20th Century. Horowitz, born and raised in Buffalo, New York, had spent much of the decade before abroad, first departing for Paris under the shadows of the Vietnam War, where he studied piano, Eastern philosophy, and became entrenched the city’s free jazz scene, playing with the likes of Steve Lacy, Anthony Braxton, and Alan Silva, before embarking south to Morocco where his friendship with Paul Bowles helped cultivate a deep passion for the country’s musical traditions and a shift in his musical practice.



The pair met by chance sometime in 1981 at Noise New York, a small studio on West 34th Street founded by the musician and recording engineer, Frank Eaton, as a utopian creative laboratory that beckoned artists and bands like Arthur Russell, Christian Marclay, Liquid Liquid and Butthole Surfers into its orbit. Both artists had recently relocated to the city, Horowitz having recently released his debut album, Oblique Sequences (Solo Nai Improvisations), on the legendary Paris based imprint Shandar, and fallen in with members of New York avant-garde like La Monte Young, Jon Hassell, David Byrne, and Brian Eno, and Deyhim having begun to more actively incorporate singing into her practice, notably recording a vocal score for choreography she was doing at La MaMa Experimental Theatre.



Initially bonding over a cassette tape of field recordings made by Paul Bowles that had been given to mutual friend and writer Brian Cullman (seeking answers for Ornette Coleman’s question “what is the sound of sound”), their earliest collaboration was documented on Horowitz’s 1981 album, Eros In Arabia, with Deyhim contributing vocals to the track “Queen Of Saba.” Over the coming years, their deep connection would routinely gravitate them into the studio, culminating in the body of recordings that would appear on their 1986 album for Crammed Discs, Desert Equations: Azax Attra. Unknown to nearly all but the artists, laying in wait over the decades on numerous multi-track and stereo reels, DAT tapes, and reference cassettes, were a vast array of recordings made by Deyhim and Horowitz bookending Desert Equations. The 13 pieces represented on The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 were recorded largely between Noise New York and Daylight Studio in Brussels, during a period that Deyhim describes the partnership between herself and Horowitz’s as seeking a music “free of any specific cultural reference, with a personal musical signature,” blossoming into a body of sonority that embraced the energy of contemporary boundary pushing pop and the avant garde, filtered through their mutual love and study of various musical traditions from across the globe and deep engagement with the ideas and tactics of experimental music.



Undeniably rooted in Horowitz’s study of the North Africa ney and the music of the Berber and Gnawa cultures during his time in Morocco, Deyhim’s deep engagement with the folk traditions of Iran, and the couple’s immersion in the interconnected Downtown underground music scenes, each piece on The Invisible Road offers its own vision creative and cultural hybridity. Deyhim sings in both English and Farsi, as well as a composite tongue that she developed by drawing upon numerous indigenous vocal techniques from around the world, intuitively responding to Horowitz’s simultaneous sound syntax forming and combining a wide range synthetic and acoustic instrumentation, and experimental tape techniques, within a visionary series of free-standing expressions.

12” paddling pool blue vinyl, is an edition of 500. CD Digifile. Following the runaway success of their critically acclaimed 2021 second album Contender, the question for fast-rising London four-piece Fightmilk was always going to be “what next?” With a tight indie-pop sound that defined their early recordings, the answer was obvious to a band who seem hellbent on the notion of evolve or die… The band originally formed in 2015 in a Brixton pub garden by Lily and Alex, who had both, separately, just been dumped and thought being in an angry punk band would cheer them up. Then they found Nick and Healey to hold the rhythm down and make them sound good. With three albums under their belt, they’ve perfected their chaotic, melodic brand of joy and rage-filled pop with full-throated yelling and sparkling guitar riffs as their trademark. They’ve graduated from angsty whippersnappers in their mid-twenties to overgrown teenage 30-somethings with mild ongoing back and shoulder pain. Their previous 2 albums Not With That Attitude (2018) & Contender (2021) marked them out as an ambitious and rising prospect, and now on their forthcoming new album No Souvenirs the band eschew their former Britpop ties and edge further into DIY punk and heavier rock influences to reveal a leaner, meaner, more abrasive side to their cathartic lo-fi anthems. Whilst collectively diving into their passion for Jimmy Eat World, frontwoman Lily Rae made a conscious decision to strengthen her “big loud yell” with influence from Alicia Bognanno (Bully), Nat Foster (Press Club), and Missy Dabice (Mannequin Pussy). “My voice is the biggest it’s ever been and I’m constantly thrilled when people are surprised at how loud I am, considering I’m so small in stature,” she grins. “Lyrically I always look to Bruce Springsteen for inspiration but I also really enjoyed the angsty candour of Sour by Olivia Rodrigo, and Kacey Musgraves’ impeccable one-liners.” There are a few genre experiments on the record—Yo La Tengo in ‘Paddling Pool’, ‘Canines’ is part The Strokes and part Neu!, and ‘Back From Tour’ was heavily influenced by long term friends Johnny Foreigner. “You could probably make a case for ‘Inferno’ having a bit of Counting Crows to it, but we were never writing to emulate,” explains guitarist Alex. “The references and touchstones just happened along the way. As far as we’re concerned, they just sound like Fightmilk - and that’s a really nice place to be nearly a decade in.” “That said, we’ve also been REALLY picky with the songs that made it onto the album - there’s probably an-other album’s worth of songs that didn’t feel right, even if we loved them. We got really good at finding the “magic thing” in each song that made it work.” Spilling over with candid lyrics about death, doomed love, and dog bites, framed by endless punk energy and the kind of full-throated riff-rock that sounds just at home in a giant stadium as it does in a sticky-floored toilet bar, No Souvenirs is a triumphant return from the band, who are equally enthused by the album. “I only realised after we put the songs together how personal to me this album was,” explains Lily. “Not just because I’m writing about extremely specific sitcom episodes in my life (getting fired from bridesmaid duty, being bitten on the arse by a dog, being relentlessly asked when I’m going to have kids), but because whilst we were making it, I turned 30. It’s a significant age for women, especially in music, because aside from being something called a ‘geriatric millennial’, there’s an unspoken rule that there’s a cut-off point for you to have ‘made it’ and after that you have to settle down and be normal.” For Lily, writing for the album also aligned with the 10th anniversary of the death of a close friend, with the resulting track ‘No Souvenirs’ lending its title to the album as a whole. “It had taken me that long to write about it in a way I felt ok with. But I realised that I couldn’t have written it before,” she explains. “I needed that distance, and that maturity, to be able to articulate those feelings. It feels to me now like the album is about scorched earth, moving on, taking nothing with you for the next ‘thing’ - and realising that getting older is a privilege.” Bringing a huge amount of energy and joy with them whenever and wherever they hit a stage, interacting with the audience is a vital part of the Fightmilk live experience. “Without people singing and dancing at us we wouldn’t have gigs at all, so we want everyone to get involved!” says Lily of the band’s future tour plans

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".

The wait is over, Return To The 37th Chamber is El Michels Affair's highly anticipated follow up to 2009's underground cult classic Enter the 37th Chamber. Churning out classic records since then for the likes of Lee Fields, The Arcs, The Shacks, and tons more, it is clear that EMA's signature sound is stronger & sharper than ever. This time, in addition to re-interpreting the Wu compositions for a live band, EMA pays homage to the production and sonic fog that makes a RZA beat so recognizable. Producer and bandleader Leon Michels recorded the album completely analog, sometimes hitting 6 generations of tape before it was ready for mixing, giving the Return to The 37th Chamber it's own hazy sound. Adding to the unique fidelity, the record is laced with psychedelic flourishes, John Carpenter' synths, heavy metal guitars, triumpha0nt horns, and traditional Chinese instruments that make up for the lack of the Wu's superlative vocals. From start to finish it's a dark trip that walks the line between RZA's timeless hip-hop aesthetic and the cinematic soul EMA has become known for. El Michels Affair tackles some classics like 4th Chamber and Wu Tang Aint Nuthin to Fuck Wit, as well as some deeper cuts like Ol Dirty Bastard's Snakes, Raekwon's Verbal Intercourse, and Shaolin Brew, Wu-Tang's contribution to the St. Ide's Hip Hop endorsement campaign from 1994. This time El Michels brings some of the Big Crown family along for the ride. Lee Fields handles vocal duties on Snakes and is joined by Shannon Wise of The Shacks for their version of Tearz, which pays as much homage to the Wendy Rene sample as it does to the Wu-Tang Clan. Lady Wray makes an appearance on the cover of Method Man's hit, All I Need, lending her vocal prowess to what gave the Wu one of their biggest hits of all time. Interspersed throughout the record are some original interludes that are like the rug that ties the room together,' giving Return To The 37th Chamber a cinematic narrative that makes it a proper El Michels Affair record and not just a collection of covers. From the music to the presentation, this album is a perfect example of what can only be achieved through diversity. The end result is as much a kaleidoscope of influences and multiculturalism as the city it was recorded in. El Michels Affair is once again, sounding out the city' that raised them, pulling elements of art and culture from across the country and around the globe to create an album truly unique in it's own right.

In Cornish slang it is said that things get done ‘dreckly’; that is, not now, not necessarily tomorrow, but, at some indefinite point...in the future...soon...

Fitting then that when Bristol’s Langkamer decamped to their de facto home-from-home in the picturesque south-west seaside town of Falmouth to record their third album in as many years (with an EP thrown in there too) - there was no particular need to rush things: “The process was much slower and more considered for Langzamer.”, drummer/vocalist Josh Jarman explains: “The first two albums felt pretty urgent, and each was finished in about 6 months, but this one feels a lot more deliberate. It’s taken us two years to get this done.”

Equally fitting too that Langzamer kicks off proceedings with ‘Heart of Tin’: the first bars are languidly lugubrious, so deliciously plucked-out and scuzzed-up that they linger in the air like passing smoke, magically, slowing time down to their own assured and steady will. And in so much time, that also feels like no time at all, comes an opening line of such stark, disarming confessionalism as might be found in the David Berman/Silver Jews songbook: “Do you want the good news or the bad news first? // They’re both bad news, but the bad is worse” It’s Langkamer in a nutshell: embattled, heart-on-sleeve Slacker Rock slaked with twinges of fret-sliding Americana, yet deeply embedded in the folk mythologies, colloquialisms and experiences of the band’s West Country roots.

Throughout Langzamer, confronting the listener again and again is this conflict between the band’s breezy, melodic charm, and the threat of something more sinister lurking in the undergrowth. While those more familiar with Langkamer’s oeuvre to date will have already come to know and love their often self-deprecating yet witty lyricism, the songs on Langzamer take this trademark ebullient gloominess to more challenging plains: “Principally this is an album about grief, and everything that entails...” explains Jarman. “in a sense death brought these songs to life.”

This thread is felt no more so than on ‘Salvation XL’. Inspired by a “particularly bad batch of food poisoning I had in Morocco”, Jarman explains, and beginning with the memorable opening line, “Jesus came to me a Burger King in Marrakech”, the band wind their way through the ‘big topics’: death and God.

“This trip was shortly after a few of my friends had passed away, and I think a lot of my thoughts and actions at that time were being influenced by my grief without me realising it.”, he explains, “Whenever I dwell on grief, and how death has given my life a new context, I come back to that. The ongoing battle between agnosticism and atheism. I wasn’t raised in a very strict religious home, but I come from a long line of methodists, and it’s interesting to think about the way theism and religion have shaped my life without me knowing it. I think that’s being channelled on this album a lot. The uncertainty that comes with disbelief.”

Our collective mortal frailties are also felt on lead single ‘Richard E Grant’. With a trademark bittersweetness, a track that begins as an appreciation of the actor’s humorous social media presence unfolds as a study on “finding healthy coping strategies to deal with loss.”. Elsewhere, ‘At The Lake’ - to the tune of mournful, folk-like balladry - explores binge-drinking culture and the troubled association between unhealthy behaviour and creativity. The listener is left in no mind as to the meaning behind the references to James Joyce and Janis Jopin as “souvenirs stolen from the dark”.

With themes as weighty as these strewn across the album’s 10 tracks, It seemed like a particularly astute move then for the band to personally approach Ben Woods, founder of the Golden Dregs, to assist on production duties. Not only would the delicate intimacies of Woods’ main project - see 2023’s On Grace & Dignity for reference - add an appropriate moodiness, but Woods was also born and raised in Cornwall, where the album was recorded; amidst “eating pasties” and breaks by the sea, Woods and the band transformed the vaults underneath iconic Falmouth venue The Cornish Bank into a makeshift studio for a weeks’ worth of recording. Occasionally friends would drop by to lighten the load; Zander Sharp tracking violin on ’Double Island’ and ‘Flight’; Josh Law and Ben Sadler of Breakfast Records labelmates Getdown Services, both of whom contribute to the soul-stirring ‘mountain’ chorus on ‘Aberfan’.

When compared to the brightness of 2023’s The Noon and Midnight Manual, Woods’ influence on the record seems indisputable. On the aforementioned ‘At The Lake’, for instance, which features backing vocals from Woods. Or, most acutely, on the piano strains of harrowing closer ‘Bluff’, a track with such chilling, spectral severity as to effect the band’s most heartbreaking effort to date. While it’s particularly sombre note on which end proceedings, it's also an appropriate one: Langzamer bravely stands tall as their most restrained, matured, and sincere collection to date. And almost by virtue of its impeccable honesty, those moments of sunshine-joy that creep through the cracks feel that much more golden.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

Sasu Ripatti presents the fourth volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Born in Los Angeles in the early 1990s via a residency of week after week jam sessions at a dive club called Raji’s—then relocating to New Orleans—the band’s trajectory lasted about a decade and ended when Hurricane Katrina demolished their homes and the band members scattered. Key members included Vicki Peterson (Bangles), Susan Cowsill (The Cowsills), Peter Holsapple (The dBs, R.E.M.), and many more—including the only member who has been with them from the beginning, Mark Walton (Giant Sand, The Dream Syndicate). However, there were also several singer/songwriters (Carlo Nuccio, Gary Eaton, Ray Ganucheau) without an impressive pedigree that shine as brightly as their slightly more famous bandmates. The best possible comparison that we can make is that the Continental Drifters had a similar vibe to the classic roots combo Delaney & Bonnie & Friends—more of a “collective’ than a band—in which there were several distinctly original lead singers, blistering sidemen instrumentalists and an inspiring blend of both original and seminal cover songs with a southern fried blue-eyed soul approach that couldn’t be beat.

At once a spiritually-charged journey and a shit-kicking party record, American Cream Band comes to Quindi covering all the bases.
American Cream Band was formed by Twin-Cities musician Nathan Nelson around 10 years ago, taking the form of improvised live shows and albums Frankensteined from these sessions into exultant, fully-formed records you can sink your teeth into. The trick with improvised music is to start with intentions, however abstract they might be, and Nelson leads his rolling cast of collaborators into the creative fray with subtle guidance which drives the impulsive musical moment forward.
The band's previous records have manifested on labels like Moon Glyph and Medium Sound, and now Presents arrives in a freewheeling flash of snappy new wave, skronky sax, call and response sass and some krautrock-minded sonic cosmology. The album came together in December 2021, when Nelson took ten musicians to legendary studio Pachyderm in Cannon Falls, Minnesota. Living together, eating together, and with Nelson quietly setting up his low-key magick intentions around Jupiter's planetary frequency and the studio's abundance of elephant statues and carpets, they laid down some drum-heavy sessions that became the building blocks of the record.
'Taste What We Taste' is the perfect example of an exuberant groove pounded on skins as a vessel for a joyous get-down, with the singers and players free to freak out on top. Nelson remains at the centre of the melee, throwing half-sardonic, half-heartfelt calls out for connection. 'Banana' celebrates nonsense and holds down the most serious of beats - a disco-not-disco deadeye dripping in late night sleaze and lysergic potential. On 'Royal Tears', the jagged guitar chops call back to Gang Of Four, while the hot n' heavy sax from Cole Pulice baits James Chance and all the other angular New York un-jazz misfits.
Amongst his other implied intentions for the recordings, Nelson wanted to channel opposites, not least the distinct male-female energies in his vocal sparring with the girls on assistance duties. It wouldn't be right to call them backing singers as they shoot back at his punchy mantras, bringing a certain fierce femininity that tips its hat to The B-52's Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson, not to mention iconic post-punk bands like Au Pairs, Delta 5 and Bush Tetras.
There's space for the dreamier kosmische which has crept into the American Cream oeuvre in the past, as 'Sirens' opens the album up in a swirling pond of rag tag percussion and molten synths. 'Words Would Handcuff Us' cools the whole riotous assembly down in unmoored perfection, a strung-out Bossa nova seance dusted with celestial drips from analogue spaceships.
Equally treading the line between light and dark, conscious and unconscious, the sacred and profane, Presents is a life-affirming, creep-under-the-skin listening experience - a joyously transient chapter in the evolution of American Cream Band.

This album was a self imposed ambitious project for us. Something to kick in the creative flow. The last few years, having been a challenging time in general, felt like a good time for a pivot. The last two albums were so guitar and keyboard centric, I wanted a weird and fun set of parameters for us to work with. I demo’d everything at home on cassette 4 track (harkening back to simpler times) using drum loops, and just had at it 'til I had a pile of “songs”. Tom and I chose one sound each using synths and created a range of 3 octaves of that sample, then loaded them into Roland SPD-SX samplers and learned the transcribed songs using drum sticks. The idea was to change the way we wrote and to have 4 people along the front of the stage essentially playing percussion. So no guitar, no keys. As we were recording I kept thinking how the sounds, when paired up, sounded a bit like brass. So, we added a saxophone horn section to round out the horniness of the sound with a bit of reedy bell tones. Thanks to Cansfis Foote & Brad Caulkins on tenor and Baritone saxophones :) Sort of a Dexy’s Midnight Runners meets Von LMO meets The Flesh Eaters meets the Screamers kinda punk junk. Poppy and hooky, heavy at times.. Sort of vacuous and maybe a bit sci-fi in sound. Boneheaded in riff and heady in lyrics. Recorded at Stu-Stu-Studio by me on 8 track 1/4” tape . So pretty hot and raw. Lots to write about today. A lot of these lyrics were taken from things people said in passing about taking on life right now that stuck with me. Things that made me reflect. Things that made me laugh. Things that made me WTF. Some folks are kind, genuine & give you love and energy. Some are greedy manipulative ghouls who hang off your veins. You must be strong, composed and take care of yourself. Be self aware and check your mind for cracks. Learn to relax and be well. There are moments of beauty and redemption. Its not all bad news and there’s always hope. People continue to surprise me one way or another. Anyhow, Hope you enjoy and good luck out there. — John Dwyer

Heaven Born and Ever Bright is the third studio album by British rock band Cardiacs. It was produced by Tim Smith, engineered by David Murder and mixed by both Available on CD Digifile and Single Sleeve Violet coloured vinyl (pressed from the 1991 master) Cardiacs are an English rock band formed in Kingston upon Thames by Tim Smith (guitar and lead vocals) and his brother Jim (bass, backing vocals) in 1977 under the name Cardiac Arrest. One of Britain's leading cult rock bands, Cardiacs' sound folded in genres including art rock, progressive rock, art punk, post-punk, jazz, psychedelia and heavy metal (as well as elements of circus, baroque pop, medieval music, nursery rhymes and sea shanties), all of which was topped by Smith's anarchic vocals and impressionistic lyrics. Their bizarre sound and image made them unpopular with the press, but they amassed a devoted following Tim Smith was the primary lyricist, noted for his complex and innovative compositional style. He and his brother were the only constant members in the band's regularly changing lineup. The band created their own indie label, the Alphabet Business Concern, in 1984 and found mainstream exposure with the single "Is This the Life?" from their debut album A Little Man and a House and the Whole World Window (1988). Their second album, On Land and in the Sea (1989), was followed by Heaven Born and Ever Bright (1992), which displayed a harder edged, metal-leaning sound retained in the subsequent albums Sing to God (1996) and Guns (1999). Tim Smith was hospitalised with dystonia resulting from a cardiac arrest in 2008, which brought increased and belated critical recognition to Cardiacs, with several music outlets calling Sing to God a masterpiece. His death in 2020 saw a raft of tributes on social media

This album was a self imposed ambitious project for us. Something to kick in the creative flow. The last few years, having been a challenging time in general, felt like a good time for a pivot. The last two albums were so guitar and keyboard centric, I wanted a weird and fun set of parameters for us to work with. I demo’d everything at home on cassette 4 track (harkening back to simpler times) using drum loops, and just had at it 'til I had a pile of “songs”. Tom and I chose one sound each using synths and created a range of 3 octaves of that sample, then loaded them into Roland SPD-SX samplers and learned the transcribed songs using drum sticks. The idea was to change the way we wrote and to have 4 people along the front of the stage essentially playing percussion. So no guitar, no keys. As we were recording I kept thinking how the sounds, when paired up, sounded a bit like brass. So, we added a saxophone horn section to round out the horniness of the sound with a bit of reedy bell tones. Thanks to Cansfis Foote & Brad Caulkins on tenor and Baritone saxophones :) Sort of a Dexy’s Midnight Runners meets Von LMO meets The Flesh Eaters meets the Screamers kinda punk junk. Poppy and hooky, heavy at times.. Sort of vacuous and maybe a bit sci-fi in sound. Boneheaded in riff and heady in lyrics. Recorded at Stu-Stu-Studio by me on 8 track 1/4” tape . So pretty hot and raw. Lots to write about today. A lot of these lyrics were taken from things people said in passing about taking on life right now that stuck with me. Things that made me reflect. Things that made me laugh. Things that made me WTF. Some folks are kind, genuine & give you love and energy. Some are greedy manipulative ghouls who hang off your veins. You must be strong, composed and take care of yourself. Be self aware and check your mind for cracks. Learn to relax and be well. There are moments of beauty and redemption. Its not all bad news and there’s always hope. People continue to surprise me one way or another. Anyhow, Hope you enjoy and good luck out there. — John Dwyer

The Flenser is pleased to announce the release of Living Is Easy, the latest EP from ecstatic black metal band Agriculture. Ecstatic black metal from Los Angeles. Follows up 2023's critically acclaimed debut. A new EP plus first vinyl release of their first EP. Appearing prominently at the 2024 edition of Roadburn. US and European tour dates in the works through 2024. Video for title track featuring Flenser goons, Chat Pile. This new EP will be paired with the band's debut EP, The Circle Chant. For the first time, both EPs will be pressed together on a single 12-inch vinyl record as well as a cassette format Living Is Easy represents a significant new statement from the band. With their debut self-titled, Agriculture embarked on a journey to explore how heavy music can provide insights into the joys of life, both everyday and divine. Their extensive touring with this material led to a profound experience of ecstasy, surpassing expectations as they shared the intensity and joy of these songs with audiences worldwide. This experience was a catalyst for the band, inspiring them to delve even deeper into the realm of "ecstatic black metal" music. They believes that with this release they have pushed this concept to its limit, resulting in a transformative explosion of sound and meaning. The record delves into themes of community connection, holiness, violence, and the cycles of life. The title track is especially notable, featuring a retelling of a story from one of the Buddha's past lives. In this narrative, the Buddha encounters a starving family of tigers and sacrifices himself to save them, a tale of serenity and selflessness. This story resonates deeply with the band, reflecting the humility and inspiration they find in their collaboration and echoing the generosity and interconnection they strive to explore through their music. Touring holds a special place in the heart of Agriculture. It brings them immense joy to share their music, visit new places, and meet new people in cities around the world. This constant interaction with diverse audiences serves as a continuous source of inspiration for this work. Agriculture is eager and excited to share Living Is Easy as well as give new life to the first vinyl pressing of The Circle Chant. Black Vinyl!

The Flenser is pleased to announce the release of Living Is Easy, the latest EP from ecstatic black metal band Agriculture. Ecstatic black metal from Los Angeles. Follows up 2023's critically acclaimed debut. A new EP plus first vinyl release of their first EP. Appearing prominently at the 2024 edition of Roadburn. US and European tour dates in the works through 2024. Video for title track featuring Flenser goons, Chat Pile. This new EP will be paired with the band's debut EP, The Circle Chant. For the first time, both EPs will be pressed together on a single 12-inch vinyl record as well as a cassette format Living Is Easy represents a significant new statement from the band. With their debut self-titled, Agriculture embarked on a journey to explore how heavy music can provide insights into the joys of life, both everyday and divine. Their extensive touring with this material led to a profound experience of ecstasy, surpassing expectations as they shared the intensity and joy of these songs with audiences worldwide. This experience was a catalyst for the band, inspiring them to delve even deeper into the realm of "ecstatic black metal" music. They believes that with this release they have pushed this concept to its limit, resulting in a transformative explosion of sound and meaning. The record delves into themes of community connection, holiness, violence, and the cycles of life. The title track is especially notable, featuring a retelling of a story from one of the Buddha's past lives. In this narrative, the Buddha encounters a starving family of tigers and sacrifices himself to save them, a tale of serenity and selflessness. This story resonates deeply with the band, reflecting the humility and inspiration they find in their collaboration and echoing the generosity and interconnection they strive to explore through their music. Touring holds a special place in the heart of Agriculture. It brings them immense joy to share their music, visit new places, and meet new people in cities around the world. This constant interaction with diverse audiences serves as a continuous source of inspiration for this work. Agriculture is eager and excited to share Living Is Easy as well as give new life to the first vinyl pressing of The Circle Chant. Black Vinyl!

Like an unsent love letter to a psychedelic London where everyone is trying to find their way to a secret Television Personalities gig, Cuneiform Tabs emerge with an astounding debut of lo-fi pop and DIY experimentation. A hazy collage of joyful heartaches, twisted children's TV themes and sing-song melodies, the album echoes the sounds of '60s AM radio from a dozen narrow alleyways to the North.

Over 18 months, the Tabs' Matt Bieyle and Sterling Mackinnon traded 4-track tapes between the Bay Area and the UK. While they previously played together in indie band Violent Change, the duo's physical distance and their songwriting process of building, blurring and distorting across the Atlantic would create something no one saw coming. Grabbing any instruments at their disposal and splitting vocal duties, Bieyle and Mackinnon pushed their Tascam to its limit to make glittering, odd-shaped gems.

There is an insular feel to Cuneiform Tabs, suited for late nights after the entire city has stumbled into dreamtime or lazy afternoons when you can't quite recall where you need to be, but you know you won't make it there on time. It's like a pirate radio show where Bob Pollard alternates Swell Maps and Cleaners From Venus records while randomly unplugging various bits of gear and reading passages from a book on R.D. Laing.

Originally released in a hyper-limited artist edition, W.25TH / Superior Viaduct is thrilled to bring this kaleidoscopic LP to a wider audience.

„Awkward Attraction” captures Monstera Black’s exploration of both embracing and deconstructing pop music. The EP starts off with ‘system’, a piece that echoes a classic song structure while anticipating an unconventional sonic palette, setting the stage for the impending unraveling process that reaches its culmination in the final track, ‘who’s a hoe?’. As the journey unfolds, traditional structures progressively give way to a stream of consciousness, where motif-driven improvisation and softly sung melodies collide with a darker club and experimental soundscape masterfully crafted by alys(alys)alys. The lyrics, infused with provocation and sarcasm, delve into themes of existence and vulnerability, presented through warped vocals and repetitive hooks. „Awkward Attraction“ crafts a taunting atmosphere, challenging listeners to embark on a reflective journey.

If you can judge an artist's quality by the company they keep, then FaltyDL is up there with the best of them. The label history of the producer known to his friends as Drew Lustman reads like a "who's who" of 21st century electronic music imprints - Ninja Tune, Unknown to the Unknown, Planet Mu, Studio Barnhus, the list goes on.

WithIn the Wake of Wolves, we can now add Central Processing Unit to this illustrious roster. The Sheffield label joins the party at a notable juncture - while FaltyDL has kept up an impressive clip of releases throughout his career,In the Wake of Wolvesis both the NYC-based producer's first LP for two years and his first full-length release away from his own Blueberry Records for almost a decade.

In the Wake of Wolvesproves to be both a great match for CPU and also further evidence of the label's burgeoning sonic palette. While CPU has built its reputation on top quality electro joints, recent releases have delivered adventurous electronica experiments (Proswell'sPeople Are Giving And Receiving Thanks At Incredible Speeds), hard-wired breakbeat techno (Baby T'sI Against I) and golden-age synth explorations (twenty-fifth anniversary reissues of Bochum Welt'sDesktop RoboticsandFeelings on a Screen, both of which first emerged via the legendary Rephlex Records).In the Wake of Wolvestakes things further still - this is a brilliantly genre-voracious record, one which marries the rhythmic cut-and-thrust that we have long known FaltyDL for with all manner of adventurous stylistic choices.

Those familiar with the FaltyDL experience will recognise the trademark blend of synthetic grit and harmonious softness in album opener 'I Need You'. This could pass for Four Tet or even Hannah Diamond at points, the steady build of pulsing synths and looped vocals recalling a more mysterious version of the PC Music sound. 'I Need You' stands shoulder-to-shoulder with any of FaltyDL's other great atmospheric album openers - no small feat given the competition. 'Further', the following number, is yin to 'I Need You's yang. This is a pulsating track which gleefully skitters between machine-funk, tubing darkside bass and breakcore-adjacent drum programming, all of which is peppered with some genuinely beautiful work in the higher synths.

'Further' sets the scene for several of the more club-facing cuts here. 'Minds Protection' similarly features all manner of strange percussive sounds to surprise the ear, and it also boasts a thrilling mid-section in which the bottom falls out the track to incorporate a short snippet of blown-out junglism. With its tunnelling low-end and clattering drums, 'Full Spectrum' kicks off a delightful run of grime-influenced joints which take cues from Mr. Mitch, Logos and many of those other producers who took the Eski sound to exciting new places in the 2010s. 'Forget Me Not', the album's longest track which is placed three spots from the end, feels like the record's climactic point - a pitter-patter post-house joint that has a hint of Caribou in its DNA, it'll take the clubs by storm.

But as much as FaltyDL may consistently bring the heat in terms of the beat programming, the thing which has long marked Lustman out as a special talent is the musicality of his compositions. No matter how much drums clatter or bass bangs, FaltyDL always hooks the ear back in with a sonorous synth or pleasing nugget of melody. Nowhere is this more apparent than onIn the Wake of Wolves' more weightless numbers, each startling in their prettiness. 'Half Spectrum' is a new-era beat track packed full of ear candy; the keening keys of 'GasGas' are potent with feeling; and on the album's closer, the evocatively-titled 'Mila Stans In A Meadow For The First Time Eating Strawberries', we get a gorgeous synth vignette that joins the dots between the modern mastery of Yung Sherman and the most emotionally affecting moments of Aphex's Twin's catalogue.

At once wistful and hopeful, archival and futuristic, FaltyDL's brilliantly unpredictableIn the Wake of Wolvesis a feather in the cap for both this seasoned producer and the Central Processing Unit label.

RIYL: AFX, Bochum Welt, Mark Fell, Mrs Jynx, Boards of Canada

A sparsely documented yet iconic era for Ted Milton's psycho-funk afro punk fake no-wave pogo jazz group Blurt has been brought to life with an expansive collection of restored versions of live performances. Captured on early camcorders during the frenzy of counter-cultural activity that characterised Europe around the fall of the Iron Curtain, these recordings of Blurt, recently posted by fans on YouTube, are a visceral reminder of a scene whose influence is writ large on today's alternative music culture.

Ted Milton's trio have produced an impressive string of albums, not to mention his numerous solo recordings. Featuring 15 tracks spanning their extensive discography from their 1980 debut single – also the title of this collection – “My Mother Was A Friend Of An Enemy Of The People” to 1999’s “Eat Up Your House”, this live collection of performances have been digitised by whatever means available. The original sound captured by the inbuilt microphones of these camcorders and the videos concerned are in many cases the only documentation of an iconic era whose zeitgeist was so masterfully epitomised for many by Blurt.

Refurbished / restored/ repurposed using new AI tools there is a spectral roughness to them but surfing on these reconstructed waveforms, the inimitable machinations of Blurt ride out once again, emerging from a pixilated oblivion to put into perspective the peculiar absurdity of our human condition.