Buscar:electro one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Limited repress

AZOTO is a Celso Valli’s project, one of the most important exponents of Italo-disco. He pioneered the whole italo sound, with incredibly ahead of their time productions going right back back too ’70’s. “DISCO FIZZ” contain ‘San Salvador’, one of the most covered disco tracks of all time, which has reared its head under countless of remixes and cover versions, however if you dig a little deeper this album is packed full of incredible and timeless italo disco: ‘Anytime Or Place’ literally jumps out the speakers to get you moving, while ‘Exalt-Exalt’ showcases their take on the darker side of electronic disco. “DISCO FIZZ” bridging traditional disco from america ‘s 70s with the spaceage syntheziser/vocoder powered Italian brand of Disco that was beginning to invade with new innovations at that time (1979).

The record is officially reprinted on LP for the 1st time from original master tapes, and includes a sticker inside. A must-have for any DJs.

With his Arjunamusic label and a growing catalog of category-defying releases, Samuel Rohrer
continues to quietly, yet confidently, make a name for himself as a genuinely unique figure within
the European electronic music realm. Over the past decade he has assembled a repertoire of
music that fills a sadly neglected gap in the modern musical landscape. That is to say, he has
made a number of “electronically”-aided works that never seem to make “electronic-ism” the main
selling point or raison d'être. Rohrer understands that we inhabit a networked media landscape
that no longer sees a novelty value in every synthetic or technological sound, and by realizing
this, he makes a music that fully engages with the present without completely disregarding the
exciting speculative sensibility that has allowed electronic music to solidify into a tradition. His
latest solo album, Hungry Ghosts, again shows the high quality of sonic design that can be
achieved by conceptualizing musical passages as living, breathing entities rather than as
signposts to some still distant reality.
Maybe more so than any of Rohrer’s solo records to date, Hungry Ghosts is the one that
most unambiguously displays the artist as a kind of inspired sound “cultivator” or landscaper
rather than just a straightforward “producer”. The emphasis here seems to be biological growth
processes rendered in musical form, and in fact some track titles namechecking the biodiversity
of the external world (“Slow Fox”, “Ctenophora”) and neurochemistry (“Serotonin”) lend some
additional credence to this interpretation.
As with previous outings, Rohrer starts with his skills as a genre-resistant percussionist
and builds from there, with dense clusters of drum hits and icy cymbal exclamations leading the
way into a wide-open atmosphere full of fragmented phrases, marked with strange reversals or
compressions of time. The percussive portions and other ambiences merge together in such a
way that the latter seems like a kind of shifting, holographic camouflage for the former; an effect
which makes for a greater than usual number of shifts in mood. Rohrer’s already established
ambiguity and mystery are the moods that permeate throughout, to be sure, but there are also
surprising moments of humorous whimsy (the flourishes of cartoon mischief and teasing silences
on the tracks “Human Regression” and “Bodylanguage”), reverence (the optimistic organ swells
and steady sequencer guiding “Ceremonism”), and meditative focus (the slow-motion spectral
waltz of “Treehouse”). Also notable here are very brief etudes, such as “Window Pain,” whose
dark, lush ebb and flow actually seem tailored to repeated or looped listening.
It’s particularly remarkable that almost all of this material is recorded solo and in a “live /
no overdubs” mode, given how much it feels like well-rehearsed ensemble playing, and given the
impeccable timing involved in continually exchanging the sounds at the very forefront of the mix.
And here we come full circle to the idea of “electronic music” mentioned at the beginning here:
instead of making us feel that we are in the presence of some fully-realized form brought back
from “the future,” Rohrer invites us instead to witness fascinating processes of transition and
mutation, and to value them for what they are now as much as for where they are headed.

Purple Vinyl

Concentric Records present this special edition EP by the Berlin-based duo YHDESSA - composed of Dutch-Italian composer and poly- instrumentalist Grand River and Sardinian electronic music experimentalist Enrica Falqui.

Entitled Along The Simple Line, the 5-track EP is a unique sonic journey that merges in pure form the distinct worlds of the two composers, exposing a warm and delicate essence. Perfectly punctuated, and in a pace of its own, the album gently and precisely unfolds through touching musical spaces, dramatic textures, entrancing rhythms and unexpected vocal lines, revealing a wonderful depth. The result is so perfectly uniting as if woven by the same two hands.

Yhdessa is a collaborative project made up of Grand River and Enrica Falqui which was conceptualised in 2017 while the duo shared a music studio and were living as a couple in Berlin. Their first piece, released in 2018 on the label One Instrument Records, was named after the Vermona E-Piano and is composed entirely using the analogue synthesizer that was built in 1978. Following this came their lingering soundscape Waldorf Micro Q featured on the record “One Instrument Volume 01” as well as an impelling remix of Dunes by Jiska Huizing and Rudi Valdersnes.

Aimée Portioli is a Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer who records and performs as Grand River. The name Grand River evokes nature, scale, and movement, all key forces in Portioli’s work. Her first release as Grand River was the resolute 2017 Crescente EP, which includes Flies, a composition named by XLR8R as one of the best tracks of that year. She followed this with her melodious debut album Pineapple (Spazio Disponibile, 2018), which garnered praise from The Quietus, amongst others. The moving and dynamic subsequent album, Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes (Editions Mego, 2020) was lauded by Resident Advisor and The Verge, and was elected among the best albums of 2020 by Inverted Audio. Separately, Grand River’s work has appeared on compilations by Ghostly International, Tresor, Longform Editions and has composed an official remix for Tangerine Dream.

Enrica Falqui is a Sardinian music producer and DJ currently based in Berlin. With artistic versatility as one of her defining traits: she comfortably traverses between the dimensions of electronic music. For over a decade she has dedicated herself to the study of sound and the relentless excavation of lesser-known music, which has earned her bookings all over the world and commissions for her productions from some of the most respected labels including Marignal Returns which released Plexus, a mini-album of cool, divergent compositions. Enrica is also part of the coveted duo, ERIS, whose debut and sophomore EPs, Moments and Champions League, found their home on the illustrious Cabaret Recordings. The releases entwine the forceful with the ethereal and create an original, future-facing and club-orientated sound. Moloko, a drum-focussed track laced with weaving synths, was considered by Resident Advisor as one of the best tracks of 2019.

Aimée and Enrica’s musical union through Yhdessa, is one of colour and warmth. It expresses an experimental electro-ambient side of the two composers, to form a style that is meditative, other-worldly and at times introspective. Although, the two are now, no longer romantically engaged, they maintain a passionate friendship to match this profound musical partnership.

Black White Splatter Vinyl

When two musicians intensively work together for a period of time, at some point the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. If Paul Boex and Dave Miller hadn't already reached that status under their Abstract Division moniker, they certainly have now, with the release of Midnight Ensemble, their first full length album.

Those who have followed the duo since their early days of playing dj-sets together, know that it's hard to define their style anywhere beyond techno or even electronic music, as it is ever evolving and always dependent on the time of the day or night. When listening to this album, the resemblance between their unpredictable selection behind the decks and the eclectic range of subgenres on this album is more obvious than ever before. Midnight Ensemble could be interpreted as an ode to nightlife; a reminiscence of all that happens between dusk and dawn, captured and compressed into about one hour of music. An hour in which they so delicately time their changing of styles and tempos, always reading the room and always being one step ahead of the crowd.

This album is a reflection of that skill, starting its journey with soothing, moodsetting ambient, followed by timeless pieces of Detroit and dubtechno. A daring electro cut providing a refreshing break from the four to the floor tradition, only to be followed by the stripped down sound the duo is so comfortable with.

The final minutes consist of experimental breaks, one last banger to pull out the last bits of energy that is left and a beautiful outro, which concludes the allnighter vibe. There are no open endings, it doesn't make you want to stay in the dark forever. Rather it makes you want to close your eyes one last time before walking outside to see the sun come up again before going home, overwhelmed and satisfied.

Three years after Reno Wurzbacher’s entry into the series, Cook Strummer now offers up his own Berlin Gets Physical, a collection of all-new and exclusive tracks.

Berlin-based, Belgium-born Strummer has been a Get Physical associate for several years. He has dropped various singles including the standout 'Rising' which also featured on the Words Don't Come Easy series, and always crafts the perfect mix of rhythm and melody with plenty of hints of his homeland's famous cold wave sound. He often uses his own voice, drum machines, synths and guitars in his music, and since his debut album in 2018 on LOK Recordings, he has had high profile support from the likes of Laurent Garnier, Adam Port and Ame. This summer, he dropped 'Atmosphere' on Obsolet Records which proved another successful outing and now Berlin Gets Physical finds him digging deep into the famous city's freshest and most essential house sounds across 15 well-sequenced tracks.

His own new offering 'For Berlin' kicks off with a dark and edgy vibe, gothic vocals and tense drums. Glitchy hits and blurting synths add to the prickly atmosphere and immediately lock you in while Los Cabra & Manuel Sahagun's 'Italian Groove' then takes off on waves of serrated dark disco synths and Freudenthal feat. Nowhere People continue that macho disco vibe with the rugged chug and cosmic rays of 'Cipher.'

The twinkling 'Bad Karma' by Marvin Jam & Le Mythe then allows you to catch your breath with a slower, more spacious dub disco sound and the twanging bass riffs and exotic effects of Daniel Jaeger & Valenti's 'Quarantine Cowboys' rebuilds the atmosphere with some innovative house blues. The mid-section brings brain-frying synth work on 'Out Of The Blue', bubbling dub house and disco courtesy of dramasquad's sprawling 'ziggy' and percussive deep house looseness from 'Abayomi.'

After KEENE's rubbery and rolling Afro sounds comes more cosmic house richness from Dan Buri and Max Joni & MUKKIMIAU, the driving tech of Red Pig Flower & Lulla and heady sounds of Mike Book. There is a raw house heaviness to FreedomB's 'State of Shock' and things shut down with Electronic Elephant's tightly coiled minimal drum funk on 'Ask Yourself'.

This on point collection is an authentic snapshot of the contemporary underground sound of the Berlin.

Oslo's Ultima Festival for contemporary music in 2014. The idea was to give revered Norwegian experimental electronic musician Helge Sten, aka Deathprod, access to seminal avant-garde composer Harry Partch's self-designed, custom-made, specialized, invented instruments - an orchestra tuned to just intonation, using up to 43 intervals instead of the standard 12 for the most commonly used Western equal temperament. An artist with a 30+ year career and an uncompromising reputation that reflects the emotional specificity of his uneasy, yet compelling sound, maintained throughout his expansive discography, Sten was an intriguing choice for such a project. Although he attended art school, training in electronic music and sound art, he had little experience with acoustic instruments and can neither read nor write music notation. Yet he's been engaged with Partch's music, and outsider art more generally, since he was a teenager. His resulting piece/composition for the project was originally intended only for performance by Cologne-based Ensemble Musikfabrik, for a series of concerts in five European cities between 2015 and 2018. It's Musikfabrik that undertook the painstaking, expensive process of building an entire set of the composer's creations - the second only to the originals built by Partch himself. They are the professional musicians and virtuosic instrumentalists that had to re-train and re-educate on these unknown and experimental sound sculptures in non-standard tunings. And they house this large, gorgeous physical instrumentarium and deal with the enormous logistics of working with it, sometimes shipping the fragile pieces to other locales via semi-trucks or ships. Because of such monumental efforts, Musikfabrik are notoriously guarded with recordings of the instruments. And rightly so. They're the only ones allowed to perform on them, too. But Sow Your Gold isn't Musikfabrik playing. Instead, Sten spent days and nights alone with the instrumentarium in Cologne. He played the instruments himself while recording, layering the recordings and editing without effects to compose an `audio score' for Musikfabrik to work from in order for the ensemble to perform the piece. (Partch also regularly worked this way, although he would transcribe afterwards. Likewise, Sten worked with a professional arranger to create a detailed score, too.) So, that makes Sow Your Gold an even less likely rarity - partly why its release comes seven years after its creation. If you ask Sten about the album's title, he'll point you to the text he borrowed it from - Michael Maier's Atalanta Fugiens by H.M.E. De Jong, a 1969 study of a 1617 book of alchemical emblems - and notable passages dealing with alchemy, chemistry, and agriculture, all transformative processes. And while that may sound complicated, his takeaway is simple: "You have to break something down to create something new," - a lesson he felt related strongly to his own musical process, especially in this project. So, while Sow Your Gold in the White Foliated Earth is a piece written for specific, oddly tuned, extremely rare and unusual instruments, and for a certain ensemble - namely, some of the finest contemporary musicians in Europe - Sten grew fond of the audio score, recognizing it as coming directly from the creative process in its purest, most natural form. And so from a foliated earth, where obscure tradition, treasured scarcity, immense effort, and patient certainty layer and criss-cross, comes rugged gold, polished to shining by one outsider for another.

This compilation presents for the first time various underground techno groups and projects that emerged in Lima in the mid-1980s. Projects such as Disidentes, Paisaje Electrónico, T de Cobre, Meine Katze Und Ich, El Sueño de Alí, Cuerpos del Deseo, Círculo Interior, Ensamble and Reacción. Disidentes and T de Cobre brought extreme sounds to local electronics, and which has made them an unavoidable reference for any historical account of techno and industrial music in Latin America. This compilation presents for the first time various underground techno groups and projects that emerged in Lima in the mid-1980s. Projects such as Disidentes, Paisaje Electrónico, T de Cobre, Meine Katze Und Ich, El Sueño de Alí, Cuerpos del Deseo, Círculo Interior, Ensamble and Reacción were responsible for introducing styles such as techno-pop, EBM, industrial and minimal synth in Peru. Coinciding with the explosion of punk in Lima and the appearance of the so-called Rock Subterráneo underground rock, these techno groups shared the same DIY spirit, performing in many punk concerts and even creating their own fanzines, and, above all, opening a space for other types of sonic experiences. Meine Katze Und Ich, El Sueño de Alí and Paisaje Electrónico were also the parallel projects of the members of Narcosis, the iconic punk band, one of the founders of Rock Subterráneo. Disidentes and T de Cobre brought extreme sounds to local electronics: viscerality, mechanical rhythms and the use of Casiotones or synthesizers, which resulted in an atypical sound that, in turn, portrayed a critical time in Peru, and which has made them an unavoidable reference for any historical account of techno and industrial music in Latin America. The title of this compilation is inspired by the name of a concert held in Lima in 1991, considered to be the first techno concert to have taken place in Peru. Even though not all intervening groups were doing techno at that time, they did share the fact that they all used keyboards. Four of them, however (Cuerpos del Deseo, Ensamble, Círculo Interior and Reacción), were in fact affiliated to an electronic sound (techno-pop, EBM). The concert was a sign of the diversification of musical styles in Lima's alternative scene, and in particular of the emergence of a micro scene, for which the concert Síntomas de techno [Symptoms of Techno] represented an important step towards the development of a local culture of electronic music during the 90s. Many of the recordings included here are extracted from demos with limited circulation, practically impossible to find. Other tracks are unpublished pieces which come from the private archives of the artists themselves. The compilation has been made by Luis Alvarado and is part of the Essential Sounds Collection, with which Buh Records is making available a vast archive of avant-garde Peruvian music. This compilation is published in vinyl format in a limited edition of 300 copies, with extensive information and visual documentation. Mastered by Alberto Cendra. Art by René Sánchez. Cover photography by Rogelio Martell. This project was awarded with funding from the Economic Stimuli program of the Peruvian Ministry of Culture.

Released in 1989, La Mosca was the last album of the mythical Eduardo Mateo (1940-1990), one of the most influential artists in Uruguayan music. Produced for the multi-instrumentalist and sound engineer Hugo Jasa. Reissued for the first time with Obi and liner notes of specialist Guilherme de Alencar Pinto. Released towards the end of 1989, La Mosca was the last job by the mythical Eduardo Mateo (1940-1990), one of the most influential artists in Uruguayan music. Although Mateo was a remarkable percussionist and was very well known for his short songs, with simple lyrics, where Uruguayan roots are mixed with Brazilian, African, Indian and Arabic influences, on his last album, his work took a turn on a brand-new direction. Alongside the multi-instrumentalist and sound engineer Hugo Jasa, weaved together a futuristic sound, based on drum machine beats, keyboards, electronically processed both guitars and vocals to create an atmosphere through sturdy texts with references to machines, to the future, to time and the cosmos. At first received with confusion, today La Mosca continues to cause a mysterious fascination that persists and deepens through the passing of time.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

Alden Tyrell dusts of the Roland MC202 MicroComposer for a 6 track EP based around just the one synth. Easily floating between techno, electro, IDM and ambient this collection shows the versatility of the machine and the producer. MC-202 MICRO COMPOSER The MC-202 is a 2 channel microcomposer incorporating a monophonic synthesizer and offers a total memory capacity of 2600 steps (approx. 150 measures with 8 steps in each measure). Also the display window tells you how many more steps you may enter. The LCD indicates the current information or tempo, etc. A beep wil be heard if the operation has been done correctly.

David Lovato’s first outing as LOVA, the superb Gypsophilia EP, was one of NuNorthern Soul’s most lauded and cherished releases of 2021 – a gorgeous collection of emotive, sun-soaked sounds from the mind of a producer who got his chance on the imprint after handing a USB of tracks to Phil Cooper at Hostal La Torre in the summer of 2020.

Now, the EP returns for 2022 in expanded form, with a trio of fresh, mood-enhancing remixes joining the three original tracks featured on last year’s release. It’s those – ‘Cecilia’, Lovato’s glistening, emotionally resonant musical tribute to his baby daughter, mid-tempo nu-disco gem ‘Echoes of Memories’ and the stunning, sunset-inspired ‘Esperanza’ - that form the first half of the EP, with a trio of reworks following in hot pursuit.

Long-time friends of the label Leo Mas and Fabrice, an Italian duo famed for their brilliant Balearic reworks whose individual and collective histories stretch right back to the late 1980s (Mas, for example, was one of the resident DJs at legendary White Isle venue Amnesia at the back end of that decade). Given this shared Balearic history, it’s fitting that they step up first and give their spin on ‘Cecilia’. Making the most of Lovato’s stunning, reverb-drenched guitar licks, dreamy chords and atmospheric pads, the pair delivers a shuffling, club-ready interpretation underpinned by a locked-in dub disco groove. It’s a fine take on a track brimming with positivity and joy.

Hear & Now, an Italian duo best known for delivering a trio of brilliant albums on Claremont 56, give their interpretation of ‘Echoes of Memories’. Beginning with a mixture of quietly colourful chords, enveloping sonic textures and hazy guitar motifs, the mix gently builds as it progresses, with the pair introducing a pitched-down house groove, chiming electronic melodies and alluring elements from Lovato’s original version. Like much of Hear & Now’s work, it sits somewhere be-tween Balearica, slow-motion electronic disco and the Rimini-friendly dream house sound that marked out Italian club cuts at the turn of the ‘90s.

To close out the EP, rising star Danilo Braca – an Italian producer based in New York City who began DJing in his home country way back in 1996 – gently leads ‘Esperanza’ towards the dancefloor. Braca is a member of production duo Synth & Soda, whose 2020 remix of DJ Harvey presents Locussolus track ‘Berghain’ was selected by the man himself as the winner of an online competition. On this solo revision, Braca wraps a punchy, Latin-tinged house beat in cascading melodic motifs, bubbly synthesizer arpeggio lines, rising and falling electronics and pads so sumptuous you might want to marry them. Simultaneously morning fresh and sunset-ready, Braca has delivered a classic-sounding chunk of Balearic nu-disco/deep house fu-sion.

Gypsophilia Remixed is the latest volume in NuNorthern Soul’s Myths of Ibiza series of EPs, which all feature specially commissioned artwork from illustrator Emily McGuinness. This time round, McGuinness’s distinctive artwork depicts Tanit, the ‘protector goddess’ of Ibiza. A warrior deity of dance, fertility, creation and destruction, her spirit is said to watch over the island’s West Coast, particularly the area around Atlantic and the mysterious Es Vedra rock.

Over the 15 years since Loren Connors' Airs was first published, it has drawn a thick circle of fans. Gently recorded to cassette tape in 1999, (with wonderfully subtle multi-tracking). Airs is comprised of a series of brief electronic guitar poems. Intimately composed with the patience and purposeful hesitation we have reverently come to expect from Connors. Lyrical melodies recur in different forms throughout the LP, as shifting figures in a dream. Shadowy and sunken, the tone evokes an overcast landscape. The album feels singular; woven along as one flowing piece

Limited White Vinyl

nearly ten years ago, toureau releases his last single and there were people who said there was nothing more to come... but it was worth the wait because sometimes things need their time - especially the good ones! so 2022 is the perfect mment to reanimate with müller one of germanys hottest and legendary techno labels, join the forces and start a new chapter.
"telecommande"(french for remote control) is a perfect summer tune with some emotional trancey melodies for the festivalseason. munichs deejay gigolo martin matiske interprets this track in his own unique detroit-infected electro-style a la dopplereffekt and brings back some 80s-retro to the floors. on the flipside AFUs felix bernhardt shows us the "stompy" side of techno and the
perfect sound for the next megarave. last but not least italys rising star vicky montefusco who already releases on marc houles "items&things" presents his own groovy and deep minimalistic remixversion. This release comes in a limited white coloured vinyl edition with a beautiful coverartwork and pictures of famous photographer ralf peters, who already has exhibited
his art in miami, zurich or tokyo...

Leaving Records presents Under the Lilac Sky, the debut LP by Arushi Jain, an India-born, US-residing composer, modular synthesist, vocalist, technologist, and engineer. At six songs spanning 48 minutes of ambient synth ragas intended to be heard during the sunset hours, Under the Lilac Sky invites the listener to transport themselves through intentional listening. Jain states, “You know that moment when the sun is bidding farewell to the sky, and the colors turn into beautiful hues of purple and pink and everything in between? That is the moment that this album will shine the most. The deeper you listen, the more shades you’ll see.”

Jain’s work focuses on reinterpreting traditional Indian classical music through the lens of electronic instrumentation. She re-contextualizes ancient sounds in a modern framework, carrying the torch of electronic luminaries such as Suzanne Ciani and Terry Riley while pursuing personal explorations of her musical heritage and upbringing. Under the Lilac Sky is a cinematic statement of intent, an album that reverently nods to Jain’s musical history while presenting a bold sonic point of view. Jain states, “This album is the coming together of two distinct cultures of Hindustani classical and modular synthesizers representing the two parts of me that evolved into one whole in between my time in India and California”

Voice is emphasized as an essential element of the album, not just for the lyrics or the melodies but also as a source of texture. It is most recognizable when Jain sings aalaaps or sargam of the different ragas the songs are composed in, however her voice is deeply embedded in other, sometimes quieter layers of the record. Jain, who spent her childhood studying indian classical as a vocalist says, “At any given point, there is at least one layer in the record that carries my voice. The human voice is powerful and unique to every individual. My voice is unique to me, so I decided it should be present at all times even if it’s unrecognizable.”

Another core theme of Under the Lilac Sky is the time of day, and the role it plays in influencing how one interacts with the music. “Intrinsic to Indian classical music is the concept of Time and Seasonality. For each raga, there is a specific time of the day when it is meant to be heard for it to shine in it’s authenticity. It harkens to the question of when the environment around you is most in tune with your own sound and breath, and how it supports you in realizing your vision of the moment. This album is meant to be an ode to those timely rituals, and is best heard while you take a moment to do what you love.”

Jain’s exploratory musical ethos finds a like-minded home within Leaving Records’ “All Genre” philosophy. Jain is acutely aware of her role as a composer and modular synthesist reinterpreting a historical art form. “For Indian classical music, this is atypical. The music I compose is inspired by a centuries old tradition, yet aestheticized in a novel way, using the tools and technical innovations of analog synth movements. My art is crafted using machines that I’ve slowly fallen in love with and made my own.”

After this pair of Leeds residents made waves last November with their first EP for Pilot, Bobby O'Donnell and Reeshy return to lay down four new tracks that definitely stray towards the electro end of the breaks/electro spectrum. There's a sense of continuity, as the first EP's tracks - labelled 1-4, are followed by tracks 5-8, as well as being executed with a proper human touch that not all such machinefunk can boast. '6' is full of spiralling Drexciyan mystery, before being pared down to an LFO-style bass prod. '8' also echoes the former legends of Leeds with its dreamy pads and acid backdrop - something in the local water supply. Definitely funky enough to keep the breaks DJs onside, but with a thorough knowledge of love of 40 years of electronic music heritage at its disposal too, this is one release you should make sure you not miss.