Buscar:electric blanket

Two new tracks from this ongoing project featuring members of Coil, Wire and Tomaga. The flirtation with a head expanding motorik music as hinted at on their debut self-titled double album is given the space requiredto unfold on this new EP. Electric Blanket chugs along with perpetual percussion, blankets of feedback and state of the art electronics all embedded with a spectral melody that encircles proceedings as all sonic proceedings veer out further into more mystical ambient planes. On the flip Nice Setting places a strange short spoken narrative at the centre of a shifting sonic landscape of skittering electronic debris and a deep shifting sea of sound. A vibraphone holds proceedings together before once again we head out into the glorious cosmic ether. UUUU are an outfit unashamedly embracing the fantastic - audio as a tool for an unlimited imagination.

Contemplating the role of the album format in an attention-deficient society, Speedy J presents Walkman -- a constantly shifting, 90-minute soundtrack to a journey of your choice. Jochem Paap's first solo album in over 20 years is a freewheeling, 20-track testament to his decades-deep studio skill and sonic versatility, running from skewed rhythmic rabbit holes to exploratory tonal abandon. For Paap, the traditional idea of the album had become obscured by listening habits and the non-stop information barrage of our digital lives. Having moved on from his breakthrough years releasing LPs and touring off the back of them, he was more inspired to develop his many-sided STOOR project and feed into a bigger artistic body of work than the temporary shelf-life of a single release. As is natural for any artist, his perspective shifted over time and he found himself drawn back to the idea of an album, realising he connected best with longer releases while he was on a walk, out for a run or generally in transit one way or another. With an endearing call back to the humble Walkman, he selected an hour and a half of material created during studio sessions at the beginning of 2025, perfectly sized to fit on two 45-minute sides of a cassette tape. As has long been the case for his studio practice, there were no fixed intentions when sitting down in the STOOR lab to start making noise -- just a wealth of experience and an expansive set of tools to start exploring with. From hours of jams Paap pulled together standout moments and moulded them into a mixtape-like narrative ranging from two-minute beat nuggets to full-tilt techno workouts and immersive ambient drops. Every sound is intentional, but the overall delivery is instinctive and curious, showing multiple new dimensions to Paap's sound and offering unpredictability at every turn. 'Arp Amp Chasm' opens the album up in a thick blanket of humming, harmonic waves with an electric emotional charge, while 'Ctrssalms17 (Cold Render)' journeys through evocative blooms of melancholic, gritty pads and rugged, half-submerged tech funk. 'Modern Birds (Origin Edit)' reaches skywards with grand sweeps of dynamic, brilliantly rendered synthesis. From the dexterous drum science of 'Drift Vector' to 'Osc Hop (Slow Collapse)'s lurching, beatless swamp of synths, on Walkman even the briefest snapshots leave an impression that lasts beyond the quick-scan cycle of the modern music experience. With his return to the album format, Paap's message is clear --put your headphones on, get outside and lose yourself in the sound of an artist constantly committed to moving forwards.

/// First track, Symmetry, debuted on BBC Radio 6 New Music Fix, 10th February: "A beautiful, beautiful album" /// I got my life back. On 17 February 2025, 1024 rays of ultra sound converged at an operation table in Bern, Switzerland, and disconnected a noisy circuit on my brain. 90% of the manifestation ceased – of a disease that I no longer wish to mention by its name. During the same period, I completed my new album: Self Help Manual. I’ve read more current research about the nameless disease than my neurologist, who despite that I didn’t follow his advice on suitable treatment, called me after the successful operation: a brave, brave man. I have composed the music in the same way as in my previous album – Songs for the Nervous System – through layers upon layers of improvisations in dialogue with my synthesizers, most of which are the same age as me. I made the majority of the songs in my studio in the remains of Old Hagalund in Solna. I edited the recordings in my bed during the waking hours of clarity at night. Some songs – NAC, Ketosis, Overkill – were recorded in the basement of my childhood home in Skutskär, in Norduppland, where I’d returned to be nurtured by my retired parents – who during a night when I couldn’t turn over in bed, or pull the blanket over me – made a list of what would happen to my belongings. To my friends who have stood out with me despite my disease, I want to state: you will not inherit me yet. On the new album, the electric bass takes on a leading role. ESG and Liquid Liquid have been important when I reinvented my baselines, limited and liberated by my poor fine motor skills. Plasma is my homage to Summertime Rolls by Jane’s Addiction, that I listened to frequently in my youth. I guess that no one will hear the resemblance. In several songs, the Fender Rhodes plays an important role, a magical instrument that I bought shortly after my diagnosis over a decade ago, and for a long time didn’t dare to touch out of respect for Herbie Hancock and Fela Kuti. A couple of songs draw inspiration from the Horn of Africa – Inner Nile and Delta. At first, subconsciously in the reverb-drenched Inner Nile, then more consciously in Delta. I’m sorry it doesn’t swing the right way, but it was my attempt to return to the cradle of humanity. Longevity is possibly my favourite. The melody is played by an arpeggiator that I controlled by pressing down different keys in an exhilarating sense of freedom. One song in particular, the second track – One – has caused friends to associate freely: one thought it sounded like Patrick Cowley, another like Sly & Robbie meets Kraftwerk, a third like Air – Moonlight Safari. I made one song just before the surgery: opening track Symmetry. It’s the mightiest and most minimal song. I made one song after the surgery: finishing track Self Help Manual. My previous medication pump is heard through the microphone of my Ovation Magnum. It’s the most hopeful song on the album. I took the cover photos with my Hasselblad during walks in Tokyo suburbs of Ōmori and Kamata more than ten years ago. It was something about the faith of the traffic cones that fascinated me – born in the same streamlined form, they had over the years become increasingly individual and lovable. The mixing was finalized by Christoffer Roth in the newly built Studio Dubious in Nacka. Rashad Becker, who in an interview said that he listens as much with his mouth as with his ears, mastered the album at Clunk in Berlin. Right now it feels like anything is possible. My recovery is perhaps a small step for mankind, but a giant leap for me. I hereby leave the music to you. Joakim Forsgren

down 2 release the fourth one:

d2e004: philip chernikov’s green directions

ace masta bass with a four tracker that spreads an electric blanket over any dance floor.

To celebrate the 40th anniversary of their formation, Hugo Largo will release Huge, Large and Electric, a three LP set featuring all of the band’s studio output (1988’s Drum and 1989’s Mettle) including a full album of previously unreleased and live recordings (Hugo Largo Unreleased and Live 1984-1991). These albums are long out of print, and will be released on streaming services for the very first time. The set includes essays from Michael Stipe, who produced the band’s debut release Drum, along with Brian Eno and Hugo Largo member Tim Sommer.

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

By welcoming the beauty of imperfection and simplicity, Sven Wunder applies the timeless wisdom of wabi sabi on this musical journey. What you can hear is filtered through Ukiyo-e (which translates as “pictures of the floating world”), which illustrates everyday life, as well as through Japonism, the study of Japanese art, and more specifically its influence on European works. The result is a surface that creates an illusion by sound. The infusion of Min’yō with jazz rock, this hazy scene evokes the landscape of Monet’s ”The Water Lily Pond”, which depicts the painter’s Giverny garden, with a Japanese bridge, bamboo, ginkgo trees and the reflection of the sky in the pond. This illusion constructs both time and space.

The surface of the music, like the canvas of the painting, invents a journey between now and then by interpreting the idiom of folkloric and western art instruments. In this composition, the sound of the Western concert flute, which stretches back to the Renaissance and Baroque periods, evokes the sound of the bamboo-flute (”shakuchachi”), which reached its peak during the Edo period. The guzheng, also known as the Chinese zither, with a more than 2,500 year history, joins traditional Japanese folk melodies with modern pop percussion and 20th century electronic instruments such as the Moog synthesizer, Wurlitzer electric piano and electric bass.

This is the illusion that celebrates the fleeting nature of all things. A journey. A deep inhale and a slow exhale. It has a mix of jazz (both funky and progressive), East Asian and South Asian sounds. The idea of fusing these styles and reframing them with the aesthetic of wabi sabi is to reconnect with nature and concentrate on asymmetries and emphasize ornamentation to generate new ways of looking at the world, here and now.

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

repress

"The haunting ambience of Beat fit somewhat with the then-popular Massive Attack and Portishead, but the album's subsonic drone made it more of a minimal mood piece than a collection of songs." MAGNET

The second in a trio of albums released by the core duo of Lawrence Chandler and Martha Schwendener, Beat is without doubt their definitive artistic statement.

Coming 20 years to the day of its original release, this is the first time this album has been available on vinyl in almost two decades, and the first ever U.S. vinyl release. (Was released here on Beggars Banquet, original copies very hard to find..)

The second album from New York City's Bowery Electric was released in late 1996, less than 15 months after their self-titled debut, but it found them having traveled light years musically in the interim, the group having seemingly decided to see how far they could take the guitar/ bass/ drums/ vocal setup into the atmosphere.

Every aspect of their approach had been refined and focused: squalling, distorted guitars had been transformed into hazy, sensual sheets; the live drums transmuted to sampled rhythms more in debt to the blossoming downtempo sound of the day; bass lines reduced to their most basic diagrams; vocals submerged to become one with the narcotized fog of the instruments; even the lyrics were reduced to a few minimal lines used sparingly so as not to overshadow the dynamic.

Beat is a lush and dense mantra of shadowy percussion, barely-there vocals and immersive drones that envelops the listener in an opiated blanket of sound.

quotes:

"Bowery Electric have made something utterly astonishing here. So deep, so wide, and somehow as intimate as a train crash. The first six tracks are just the most crushingly beautiful thing I've heard in 1997; the last five are even better. Good god, THIS IS IT." Melody Maker

"While cymbals shower down over the songs like a torrent of shattered glass, their austere beauty is never static. Ambience has rarely sounded so messy." Exclaim

A near-perfect mix of shifting dance beats, menacing electronic drones, analogue bleeps,
syncopated rhythms and ethereal vocals." Now UK

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

Originally released in 1972, Lord Of Lords was Alice Coltrane's final album for Impulse! and the last installment in her awe-inspiring trilogy that also included Universal Consciousness and World Galaxy. While all three records featured strings alongside a jazz ensemble, Lords Of Lords stood apart from its predecessors due to the sheer size of the orchestra (12 violins, 6 violas and 7 cellos, arranged and conducted by Coltrane herself) and its refined, blissful performances - shining a vital light on the devotional path that she would follow for the rest of her career.

On the first two pieces, "Andromeda's Suffering" and "Sri Rama Ohnedaruth" (titled after the spiritual name for her late husband), Alice's dazzling piano and harp blend perfectly with the blanket of strings, while the haunting rhythm section of Charlie Haden and Ben Riley and a magnificent, droning electric organ emerge immaculately on the title track and closer "Going Home." Coltrane's musical vision is bold in its imagination and cosmic in scope, yet remains intensely personal and immediate. Lord Of Lords points inward as much as to the beyond, recalling her classical roots and recasting Eastern modes to radically invert the American avant-garde and spiritual jazz traditions.

This first-time vinyl reissue has been carefully remastered from the original master tapes.