quête:emer

nothing,nowhere. commented on the new album detailing, “TRAUMA FACTORY is an accumulation of songs written during a confusing time. it is about accepting the present and following your true north through the pain and suffering of human life. I wanted to make an album that was truly genreless and inspire others to challenge themselves artistically. I believe the most inspiring art is unpredictable and unrestrictive. to me that’s what TRAUMA FACTORY is.”

Over the course of 15 tracks, TRAUMA FACTORY cuts deep and finds nothing,nowhere. once again emerging from darkness, shedding external expectation, and moving forward into the glow of pure creation. Whether it be the anesthetized beats and intoxicating lull of “love or chemistry,” the cold piano-laden longing of “crave,” or the emotional immediacy of “upside down,” nothing,nowhere. paints from a wide palette of pain.

nothing,nowhere. is the musical endeavor of Vermont songwriter, singer and guitarist Joe Mulherin. For Mulherin, nothing,nowhere. is about a connection. It’s one he finds with fans around the world, who gather to see him play on tour and to listen to his songs online. It’s that connection that urges the singer to place his fears aside and step onstage each night to share his art. He sees the potential to help, to make a change, however small it may be and that is why he brings his music out of the Vermont wildness.

Etran de L'Aïr (or "stars of the Aïr region") welcomes you to Agadez, the capital city of Saharan rock. Playing for over 25 years, Etran has emerged as stars of the local wedding circuit. Beloved for their dynamic repertoire of hypnotic solos and sun schlazed melodies, Etran stakes out a place for Agadez guitar music. Playing a sound that invokes the desert metropolis, Agadez celebrates the sounds of all the dynamism of a hometown wedding. Etran is a family band composed of brothers and cousins, all born and raised in the small neighborhood of Abalane, just in the shadow of the grand mosque. Sons of nomadic families that settled here in the 1970s fleeing the droughts, they all grew up in Agadez. The band was formed in 1995 when current band leader Moussa "Abindi" Ibra was only 9 years old. "We only had one acoustic guitar," he explains, "and for percussion, we hit a calabash with a sandal." Over the decades, the band painstakingly pieced together gear to form their band and built an audience by playing everywhere, for everyone. "It was difficult. We would walk to gigs by foot, lugging all our equipment, carrying a small PA and guitars on our backs, 25 kilometers into the bush, to play for free_ there's nowhere in Agadez we haven't played." Whereas other Tuareg guitarists look to Western rock, Etran de L'Aïr play in a pan-African style that is emblematic of their hometown, citing a myriad of cultural influences, from Northern Malian blues, Hausa bar bands, to Congolese Soukous. It's perhaps this quality that makes them so beloved in Agadez. "We play for the Tuareg, the Toubou, the Zarma, the Hausa," Abindi explains. "When you invite us, we come and play." Their music is rooted in celebration, and invokes the exuberance of an Agadez wedding, with an overwhelming abundance of guitars, as simultaneous solos playfully pass over one another with a restrained precision, forceful yet never overindulgent.

“I like it when music builds itself up in an organic fashion,” says Duncan Marquiss. “When it just seems to emerge and almost writes itself.”
This natural, intuitive and free flowing approach is evident all across the debut solo album from the multi-disciplinary artist. From tender yet sweeping acoustic moments to experimental electronic guitar manipulations, the album feels like a ceaselessly sprawling exploration of texture and tone. Despite veering into what sounds like electronic ambient soundscapes, the entire album is rooted in the guitars. “I enjoy trying to stretch the guitar as an instrument,” says Marquiss. “That reflects my playing style, always trying to make the guitar sound different, or create non-guitar like sounds.”
Marrying earthy, textural acoustic instrumentals that feel rooted in open landscapes, with those that capture the pulse and hum of a populated metropolis (Marquiss resides in Glasgow). The album was recorded in Aberdeenshire in Marquiss’ parents' garage. “Apart from the wind and the swallows nesting in the eaves there’s not many distractions around,” he says. This is a solo record that goes right to the very essence of Marquiss as an artist. The expansive yet intimate sounds he’s created here stem from the same peaceful isolation of where it all began.
There’s a cosmic touch tracing back to 1970s Germany (Michael Rother solo, Cluster, Harmonia, Popul Vuh soundtracks) that infiltrates much of the album, alongside some of its more pastoral textures, with Marquiss citing a wide range of listening habits. These include Bruce Langhorne's The Hired Hand, Jim O Rouke's Bad Timing, Arthur Russell and Laurie Spiegel.
Despite containing no lyrics, the album feels rooted in narrative and development. As the album unfolds the acoustic guitar becomes more prominent over the electric, almost as if nature is slowly taking back and growing over abandoned human-made structures. A record that, despite being experimental in tone and essence, retains a very human and natural touch throughout.

As a confluence of ideas and methods, WILD ROCKET endeavour to interpret the subtle signals of the universe - the interplanetary vibrations - and present them as brash manifestations of sound. Scientists and Shaman alike have endeavoured to interpret the universal whispers, to elucidate meaning from the measurable and the sensible. It is known that to measure and interpret is to alter and colour those signals and this is what drives the development of WILD ROCKET's sound and interpretation.
FORMLESS ABYSS showcases the band's unflinching pummelling style, drifting from repetitive blows to unhinged swirls of din yet always remaining innately infectious and perhaps surprisingly danceable. The record is presented as a continuous piece in three parts.
The title track A FORMLESS ABYSS appears here for the first time in recorded form – a behemoth of a tune which builds around a drone, joined by dual drums and minimal bass locked into a repetitive groove. A groove that is slowly expanded via multiple guitars and synthesis. Vocals eventually join at just the right moment imploring the listener to “leave your criticisms down” and realise “we're all equal now” in the formless abyss or the place between worlds where our earthly preoccupation with human differences are meaningless. We're all in it together, whether we realise it or not.
The second track INTERPLANETARY VIBRATIONS may seem familiar to some in a simpler form. The expanded line up and extended development of the core theme brings a new interpretation and experience that is more than worthwhile. The track's vocals juxtapose the hybrid Germanic language of English with the ancient native Irish language of Gaeilge. Both used to promote meaning and interpretation of the interplanetary vibrations felt by all. The track features large dynamic shifts and changes of pace as the message that “it's time to leave” propagated by the Earth itself becomes more frantic and more desperate. The track culminates in a wash of smashed gongs and distorted guitars, leaving the listener to interpret the message for themselves. Should we leave, to protect ourselves or the Earth itself?
The final track FUTURE ECHOES is a doom/kraut juggernaut coming in at just under twenty minutes. Only one question is asked and none answered, are we doomed to repeat the mistakes of previous civilisations over and over, or can we find the cracks of light that echo through and show us a new way forward? We're left in a swirling formless abyss to consider who we are and where we're headed. Will we ever reach the cosmic truth? Or will we be continuously mocked by the cosmic trout?
WILD ROCKET have proven themselves on the live circuit, playing with such visionaries as Ufomammut, Slomatics, Earth, Boris, The Cosmic Dead and old school rock legends Girlschool. One of the heaviest bands to emerge from the melting pot of talent in the Irish music scene, WILD ROCKET's reputation precedes them wherever they travel and audiences and venues alike are left to piece themselves together in the discombobulation.

re-release Rediscover the best Funk Selection ! Wagram teams up with the magazine Funk-U in order to create a new incredible Funk collection for true groove lovers !

It's a little known fact that in 1969, Motown Records boss Berry Gordy organised a holiday trip to Jamaica for his label's stars. It's even less well known that while they were there, a number of those same stars worked with an up-and-coming local producer to record versions of established hits over instrumental riddims from the newly emergent reggae genre. Unfortunately, perhaps due to the plentiful supply of herbal entertainment during the recording sessions, the masters were believed lost. Until now. Happily, their recent re-discovery means you finally get to hear Uptight Boss and Beg For A Dollar - the massively crowd-pleasing consequences of giving a brace of mid-sixties Motown classics the boss reggae treatment!

Alright, maybe it didn't go down like that. Maybe the sound of this release was born instead out of people occasionally mishearing the name of Mako & Mr Bristow's 'Stank Soul Edits' series as 'Skank' Soul Edits. Which got them thinking. What would 'skank soul' sound like? Hello Trojan – meet Motown. Mojan? Trotown? Either way - reggae most definitely got soul!

Hot on the heels of his doom-electro release on CYBERDOME, Italian producer D3070 readies his Lobster Theremin debut with five lairy cuts of end-of-the-world techno and electro.

‘Orbital’ is a simple, no frills track; uncompromising in-your-face energy meets melting acidic basslines on a 4x4 rhythm, before the noise breaks on ‘Space Invader’ and a mutated electro-step emerges out from a dark alleyway covered in slime.

Dubstep/footwork blends increase the velocity on ‘You Got Me’; new territory for the emerging producer and one that we can’t wait to see him explore more - before we come crashing back into the horror with a cut of downright frightening sound design on ‘Darkness’, it’s dusty lo-fi rhythm marching on fourth and into the fiery gates.

‘Artemis’ provides room to breathe as we awaken from our nightmare, getting our head above water before floating towards a kaleidoscope of tangled emotion.

After their celestial Arcturian Corridors opened proceedings on Quindi, London-based brothers Clive and Mark Ives are back with a new record. When Woo first began recording at home in the early 70s, Clive and Mark were the embodiment of furtive genius. Since re-emerging in 2013, they've released scores of albums, collaborated with Seahawks, and have now struck up a productive relationship with Quindi.

On Paradise In Pimlico, you're hearing a very different sound to the one gently creaked out on early classics like Into The Heart Of Love. This is fulsome, contemporary production rich in detail and artful sound design, but crucially, Clive and Mark's gorgeously melodic approach remains open and inquisitive, even with the sheen and shimmer of modern studio techniques.

Woo sound more confident than ever in their composition, too. The crystalline, fragile tones of 'Cadenza D'Innocenza' glide through key changes that spell out an engrossing narrative, while the cascading melodies on 'Moment To Moment' pirouette across the space between notes with masterful poise. 'Paradise In Pimlico' is an illustrious suite of orchestral composition played out with the lightest touch, framed by the slightest of synthesized fauna and topped off with tender sax and flute. Album closer 'In Case Love Fails' takes on a subtly cinematic urgency with its undercurrents of walking bass and the strike of the string section (synthetic or otherwise).

There's space for markedly new approaches, too. The rhythm section on 'The Motorik Mirror' clunks and pops with a tactile, high-definition quality which teeters between electronic sculpture and clockwork, organic machination. The deft, lightly-brushed drums coursing through 'Even More Notes' see Clive and Mark step into a different mood, celebrating the beat as another fluid, tonally-rich texture in the mix and adding a smoky, jazzy hue to the Woo repertoire.

It's far from a drum-focused exercise though. At every turn, you're confronted with aching beauty and timbral surprises. If there's one constant throughout Paradise In Pimlico, it's the omnipresent chimes. These twinkling drops of light scattered throughout are something of a hallmark of Woo, ensuring the lilting, lullaby-like magic of their music persists whichever direction they head in.

Having become one of Crosstown Rebels’ key artists in recent years, Barcelona-born Tibi Dabo returns to the label this February with his latest EP, the four track Isla. Since debuting on the label in 2019, Tibi Dabo (AKA Max Guardans) has cemented his place amongst the Crosstown family with standout EPs such as Disbelieve and The Distance We Share, the latter of which featuring two remixes from David Morales.

Tibi Dabo creates this scene perfectly as the title track opens proceedings, easing the listener in with delicate pads before waves of harmonious elements and finely placed percussions dance in and out of the track. Mothball then further emphasises the artist’s attention to detail as its lead melody and vocal-chops develop in tandem throughout. Brain The Cut follows, acting as a metaphorical signal of nightfall on Tibi Dabo’s conceptual island. Rounding off the release, Arp 8 delivers warming melodies atop of a subtle break beat in an exquisitely emotive manner.

Still in its infancy, yet mature in its intention, the Tibi Dabo project sees Max in his element; drawing on over a decade of playing and making music, perfectly demonstrated on Isla. Emerging from a new generation of multi-disciplined artists, Tibi Dabo’s refreshingly unique sound has also seen him remix for Crosstown Rebels head Damian Lazarus on two occasions. Determined and full of creative energy, Tibi Dabo thrives on producing music with no restrictions and, driven by his own need for exploration together with the support of influential industry figureheads, he has a locker full of fresh new music to unleash.

First and foremost, deathcrash approached the task of putting together their debut album as music lovers. To all four members, a good album seemed to stamp out periods of their life, capturing a time, a feeling, a mood. This was their approach when trying to make whole two-years-worth of fragmented songwriting. Their songs may differ from each other in certain ways, but they manage to conjure similar feelings. ‘Return’ captures many of the difficult moments of the last couple years in the band members’ personal lives and yet, as a whole its complexity emerges as a beautiful and hopeful message. Amongst other things, writing the album was a cathartic process for the band, and so it can be for the listener too. The first parts of ‘Return’ came from quite a dark and jaded place. To get better can be a path marred by self-sabotage and a desire to hide. It can be easier to have no faith in something new, and rely on the comfort of an old feeling, even if it hurts. There is a reassurance in pain, a familiarity in its narrative. Return asks when things heal, where does the wound go? deathcrash recorded Return with their close friend and producer Ric James, who they’ve worked with since their early recordings. The album was recorded live, with an emphasis on dynamics, bringing together tense intimacy with atmospheric vastness. The members brought things to light they previously hadn’t, and shared words, riffs, ideas and thoughts for the first time. Each band member is able to see something that the others can’t, and write something unique. For deathcrash that is where the magic of making the album happens, when it clicks for everyone. As the album took form, a lot went on, and in many ways deathcrash got back in touch with a newer, more open feeling, sometimes happy, sometimes fearful. Something good returned that had previously been lost, and this is captured on the album. The album aims not to romanticise a dark place however, being equally about hope and renewal.

A genre blur of decorative art punk psych overflow, mixed and mastered by KRAMER on “Blessence Blue” Vinyl LP ltd edition of 500. RIYL: WEEN, Lee “Scratch” Perry, Dat Politics, Prince Buster, Captain Beefheart, Deerhoof, Thinking Fellars Union Local 282, Young Marble Giants, Jad Fair. As an energetic force in the downtown New York perfor1mance art noise scene for over ffteen years, Lumberob is releasing his debut solo LP - Language Learner - on Shimmy-Disc. Having collaborated now for over 23 years, Kramer and Lumberob understand how to make rather majestic messes. This music is urgent madness, overfowingly decorative, lusciously spastic, with an unpredictably eclectic sonic vaudeville energy. Lumberob emerged from a year in Costa Rica with a bag full of pandemic recordings. As a rejuvenated yet still scrappy loop artist expanding his sound with synth bass and drum machines, yet still rooted in improvised vocal phrase looping and skanky guitar, Lumberob insists this album Language Learner to be a bold exercise in genre discovery or genre blur, proudly assuming its position in high contrast to other recent gorgeously crafted Shimmy-Disc releases. It is this contrast that’s reminiscent of the wildly divergent and inventive catalog curated by Kramer from decades past. This debut is an odd blend of ingredients, but the concept is relentlessly pure Lumberob. Participants in Costa Rica include David Mendez playing nylon string, Alicia Cigna singing, Ariel Soto playing partial kit and conga, and Juan Jose Lopez playing bongos. Additional sessions in Brooklyn include Tobin Scroggins playing guitar and Becca Stabile singing. Kramer added bits and pieces throughout during his mixing and mastering of the album. Call it Dada Ska - a skanky electro-bounce. This is dance music for working things out. This is workout music for dancing things, and the live show is truly the dafy psychedelic roughneck business.

If Cannibale's members brought their breakfast back up when talking about 'Not Easy To Cook', their listeners would be surprised. There's a world of difference between the beginning of Cannibale's success story and this second album. The most surprising thing about 'Not Easy To Cook' is the sultriness that emerges. It's hard to sum it up other than by comparing these 10 songs with some pressure cooker in which bits of dancehall, London ska and Hawaiian dub would have cooked together. Here's the small miracle achieved by this LP recorded by the band in its remote French village: sounding French, but Polynesian French. A very psychedelic mixture of cumbia, African rhythms and garage music. Or, if you will, a kind of missing link between Fela Kuti, The Doors and The Seeds!

Matrimony emerged from the scrum of yobbos making noise in late-'80s
Australia (Cosmic Psychos, Lubricated Goat, etc), a nearly all-female
band of punk-pop minimalists as raw emotionally as musically
Building songs around simple, repetitive bass lines and the languidly morose
vocals of one Sybilla, the band reveals its disaffection more through what it
doesn't say than what it does. So while choppy guitar squalls underpin songs like
'Kitty Finger' and 'Fish and Chips Sweetheart,' elsewhere the playing is stripped
nearly bare. Sybilla's love/ hate relationship with her titular subject on 'Mr. Pop
Star' is reduced to a series of stuttered yelps, while her dispassionate plea on
'Come Back Baby' is backed only by finger snaps and the ubiquitous heavy bass
lines, distilling a lifetime of self-pitying angst into a two-minute session in front of
a cracked bedroom mirror. Matrimony also pays a nominal tribute by covering the
Scientists' 'Frantic Romantic' even more dourly than the original.

Brand new album by the legendary Swamp Dogg.In 1954, 12 year old
Jerry Williams, then performing under the name Little Jerry Williams,
made his first recording for Mechanic Records, a blues stomp with a
shockingly mature vocal performance - Through the 60"s Williams' career
developed with a number of successful singles, including 'I'm the Lover
Man' and 'Baby You're My Everything', as well as writing and producing
hits for Dee Dee Warwick, Doris Duke, and Patti LaBelle and the Blue
Belles. It was in 1970, however, that the full extent of Williams' eccentric
creative genius was unleashed on the world for the first time, with the
birth of his musical alter-ego, Swamp Dogg
Created to 'occupy the body while the search party was out looking for Jerry
Williams, who was mentally missing in action due to certain pressures, maltreatments and failure to get paid royalties on over fifty single records,' the
Swamp Dogg alias, still in use today, allowed Williams to create music that was
bolder, raunchier, and more honest to his creative instincts. The Dogg's cult
classic debut 'Total Destruction to Your Mind' struck a powerful blend of Williams
classic soulful sensibilities and the blooming psychedelia of the time. Infused in
the swirling brew is Swamp's blink- and- you'll- miss- it humor, a number of acid
odes, and a heavy dose of sharp political insight. Though the psychedelic
strangeness alienated R&B fans of the time, and the authentic R&B infrastructure
prevented it from clicking with hippie audiences, it has retroactively received
legendary status in cult music circles.Now, 50 years after Total Destruction
introduced Swamp Dogg to an unprepared world, and nearly 70 since Little Jerry
Williams went into the studio for Mechanic, Williams brings us I Need A Job' So I
Can Buy More Autotune. A spiritual successor to 2018"s hit Love, Loss and
Autotune, this album continues to push Swamp's sonic exploration of the effect
as one of his many creative weapons. In the extended tradition of Total
Destruction, Swamp Dogg's 2021 LP neatly balances sleek modern production
techniques with that classic Dogg sound that has anchored William's music since
the 70s. Subtle yet soulful drumming, skin- tight horn grooves and meandering
funk guitar leads create a sonic landscape fitting Swamp Dogg's iconic croon,
occasionally drenched in the titular autotune. At 78, Swamp Dogg is as sharp of a
singer and songwriter as ever. His raunchy yet charismatic sense of humor takes
a more forward role on I Need a Job' So I Can Buy More Autotune, with earnestly
delivered lyrics about all day sex and an entire song dedicated to the perils of
'Cheating in the Daylight.' Many of the record's most charming moments emerge
from the juxtaposition of Swamp's left field humor with genuine messages of
love, such as 'She Got That Fire', which weaves descriptions of imagined sex acts,
including but not limited to an encounter involving edible underwear, in between
relatively wholesome proclamations like 'she must be an angel on earth,' and
'when she looks at you, it's like sunshine from her eyes'. I Need a Job does more
than prove that Swamp's still got it, it proves he's still getting better.

Pure Space Records welcomes a newly emerging Naarm (Melbourne) producer, Dividens with his EP ‘Blueprints’. Across four tracks Dividens masterfully guides us through the fringes of modern drum n bass, eerie Dub and restrained Jungle styles.

Starting strong, ‘Audio Blueprint’ provides a fast and erratic baseline cushioned only by a deep, squelching synth. It’s a textural and delicately refined track, with each sound finding its perfect place with twisted effect.

Completing the A-side, in confidence, is ‘Rollin Smoke’. An acid tinged take on electro, composed with trancey pads and tight percussion.

Flipping over we find ‘Bionic’, luscious pads swirl amongst a deep sub bass rhythm before free-falling into stints of breakbeat. The ominous tone of the track is coloured by the disorienting vocals; lean in and let the bass hold your feet firmly on the ground.

Finally, ‘Tell Dem’ rounds out the release with a tasteful amount of dub. Here a mass of swamp-like synths envelop you completely, while the tight break patterns elevate the energy through to the final moments of the release.

~

Tracks written, produced and mixed by Dividens on Wurundjeri Land. Pure Space and Dividens both acknowledge the traditional custodians of this land and pay our respects to their elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty was never ceded.

~

Pure Space Recordings is the label venture from the beloved radio show hosted by Andy Garvey, and produced by Mija Healey which has broadcast weekly on Eora Nation (Sydney) radio station FBi Radio for over four years. The label focuses on Australian music both for home listening and that made for the club.

"A New Dimension In Cultural Awareness" were the words of Tribe Records' co-founder and trombonist Phil Ranelin as the label emerged in a vibrant Detroit in 1972. Together with other co-founder and saxophonist Wendell Harrison, the duo delivered the first of what would become a treasure trove of spiritual jazz releases with 1973's Message From the Tribe. P-vine has lifted its first track"What We Need" for the a-side with the b-side "The Wok" taken from Harrison's 1981 album Organic Dream.

Bev Lee Harling returns with her first solo recording in almost a decade. She won the hearts and musical minds of DJs across the board with her 2012 debut LP, Barefoot In Your Kitchen, which BBC 6Music's Gilles Peterson made his Album of the Week. Now the gifted singer, violinist and composer returns with twelve beautiful pieces of music that tell a very personal story of the years since.

Having swapped the busy streets of North London for the calmer shores of Hastings in Sussex to bring up her young family, it's fair to say that Bev's priorities might have changed somewhat over the past few years, but the music was never far away. Her new environment, and musical family (including multi-talented partner and album co-producer Frank Moon) added plenty of fresh inspiration to her recordings, and we're very excited to share her new album, entitled Little Anchor, with you this Autumn.

The album is in some senses a travelogue, a 9 year journey of a creative womannavigating the landscape of parenting. Each song is a snapshot taken at a differentlocation in time, in a world where finding balance between creative freedom and motherhood is still a struggle, from the uplifting and euphoric Beautiful Life, to the heavy and harassed Only Got A Minute.

Between the unexpected joys of parenting, grappleswith mental health and feelings of inadequacy, and fighting for every second ofcreative time while slowly accepting a life very different to the one that existedbefore, this unedited family album emerged bursting with quirky childhoodmemories, dark musings and celebrations of musical passion and legacy.

Each song carries breakthrough personal moments in rebuilding strength as an artist, as a person, as a parent. Even down to a very emotional moment with Ray Davies of The Kinks, during a songwriting retreat, where album closer This Violin String, a deeply personal ode to her recently departed mum, was written…

"Everyone turned up writing on guitars and piano and I just had my battered old violin. I felt totally out of touch with my former confident musical self and had zero confidence in what I was doing after an intense period of car crash parenting. I wrote it, performed it on the same day and then sobbed my guts out in front of a bunch of total strangers (sorry Ray!). Something shifted for me in the act of being quite so vulnerable though and I found my mojo again in writing solo with my violin."

The personal nature of this record is self-evident, it bursts through every note and word in each song. We're very excited to be able to share such a special album,afresh foray into the always unpredictable, experimental and playful world of Bev Lee Harling.

Serendipities surround the collaboration between Berlin's Stroboscopic Artefacts label founder Lucy and their most recent record with Malaysian Bangkok based emerging artist Wanton Witch. The release culminates in the reimagining of WW debut LP as seen and felt through the lens of Lucy. This is a follow up full-length album by Lucy not approached as a usual remixes record, but instead a fully fleshed out new body of work with the WW material being an integral part of Lucy's sonic palette.

Despite the label hiatus during the first year of lockdowns, the isolation of the pandemic helped create a fertile ground for a back and forth between Wanton Witch and Lucy's own distinct sound palettes to collide. With the normal every day pressures of touring lifted and enlightened by WW's sonic world, Lucy has seen this as a positive opportunity to manifest new pathways of connectivity and process a phase of personal growth. Not simply about the breaking of gender lines, but also about the blurring of creative boundaries, especially when making music.

Lucy's original patronage of Wanton Witch and her relatively fresh and new voice in the electronic music scene can be seen as a contribution to this idea of dismantling industry norms. In more than a decade of SA operations this is a reset moment for the label's mission focusing on empowering new talent, refreshing and growing with them, presenting a dynamic two-way process bewtween the label as a whole and the individual artists output.

Lucy's personal revolution has coincided with Wanton Witch's own discovery of her musical voice and their paths have created a synchronicity. This osmosis of thought and feeling, even through massive distances, can be so real and tangible. Lucy's new album is a testament to the power of connective tissue in collaboration. It is this catalyst of realisation that has allowed the creative work to flourish under the toughest of pandemic conditions.

"The core of confusion and upheaval that drove some of the band's most fiery earlier work, however, is replaced by a more stabilized undercurrent, a mentality that's reflected in songs not afraid to try new things and honestly explore uncomfortable feelings. When combined with exciting production and songwriting choices, that mindset helps make Feels So Good // Feels So Bad one of the Shivas' best albums.” - AllMusic "Portland, Oregon-hailing psych-surf band The Shivas accomplish another time-traveling, reverb-ridden sound that refuses to get boring. Jared Molyneux’s guitar work knows when to be bright or bashful at the right times, breaking into guitar solos that possess a late-’60s groove… The Shivas seem to blissfully flourish” - Paste "a consistent treat for the ears” - The Vinyl District "Though the psych-tinged guitar riff that drives 'Feels So Bad' was written while The Shivas were still on the road, its lyrics didn’t fall into place until the band was well into lockdown, unsure of when they’d be able to return to their most imperative true love: Live shows... Accordingly, 'Feels So Bad' permeates with a sense of urgent desperation, building off a chugging prog-rock instrumental.” - Consequence (on “Feels So Bad”) "They hooked the audience with their throwback rock sounds. The guitar strums and rhythmic drum beats were layered atop smooth and hallucinogenic vocals. The eyes can tell the take at times and there was a sparkle there that said that the band members just love doing live performances." - California Rocker "This single layers on the fuzz but keeps it dreamy, with an especially sticky guitar riff sure to lodge itself in your brain with minimal effort." - Portland Monthly (on “If I Could Choose”) “'My Baby Don’t' translates the genuine vibrant joy


of the live experience into the studio, bringing the band’s ‘60s garage rock roots, sharp pop vocal harmonies, and fervent performances along for the ride." - Under The Radar "Perfectly straddling the line between a solid-head bopping track and an introspective deep cut, The Shivas’ 'Undone' is a rock & roll gem. The track sounds straight out of the late 60s and fits seamlessly in the Portland band’s electrifying catalog." - The Luna Collective "The first time I clicked play on this track, I knew it was a yes for me." - Ear To The Ground Music (on “If I Could Choose”) "The harmonies would make the “Happy Together” Turtles blush, but the unsettling guitar doesn’t shy away from the woollier implications of the ’60s." - Willamette Week (on “If I Could Choose”) "'Undone' is just the perfect song for the good days and the bad ones." - GlamGlare "another hit" - Austin Town Hall (on “Undone”) "one of the best forthcoming albums of the year" - Austin Town Hall RADIO: #3 Most Added @ NACC - 50 official adds BIO Every working musician has had their life turned upside down by Covid-19. For The Shivas, who had recently released a new LP and normally keep a rigorous touring schedule, it was a particularly screeching halt. “We were about to go to SXSW, the following weekend was Treefort in Boise, and then we were going to open for our friends’ band on tour in the US before going to Europe,” Jared Molyneux remembers. Then everything just stopped. They were faced with a dilemma. “It forced us to adapt or just quit,” Molyneux says. “The reality is that shows are our job.” In truth, live shows aren’t just The Shivas job: they are the band’s greatest love. Shivas shows are bombastic, explosive and thoroughly communal live rock and roll experiences where barriers between the performers and their audience seem to dissolve into the sweat and sound. The stage—or the basement, or the living room—that’s The Shivas’ true element. It’s their raison d’etre. It’s their religion. The band’s live urgency may have been born in 2006, when the band’s young members—who began booking West Coast tours while still in high school—waited without fanfare on sidewalks or in parking lots, before being rushed onstage for their sets at 21-and-up clubs. Maybe it developed a little later, as The Shivas blasted their way through Portland’s storied and unsanctioned mid-aughts house show scene. Whatever the origin of their famously kinetic live experience, it’s the show that keeps them coming back after over 1,000 performances spread over 25 countries in 15 years. In those 15 years, The Shivas have grown tight-knit as a group. Guitarist/singer Jared Molyneux, bassist Eric Shanafelt and drummer/singer Kristin Leonard have all been with the band since its earliest days; guitarist Jeff City, another high school friend, joined in 2017. Together they’ve learned to thread a seemingly impossible needle: They’ve honed and tightened their performances without sacrificing the element of surprise that makes each show special. And despite touring and recording for most of their lives, they speak about their project with humility, in the DIY vernacular of their Pacific Northwest upbringing. They talk up their own favorite bands, play all-ages shows as much as possible, and bring a sort of blue-collar humanism to the live performances they relish so much. “We just want to make people feel good,” Molyneux says. “We want them to forget they have to work tomorrow.” Kristin Leonard elaborates, “The live show is all about that feeling of catharsis—in ourselves and in everyone who comes out. We’re creating this safe space where we can all let go. Where we can exhale. And it feels really good when we are able to facilitate that.” So when Covid hit, the band knew it was time for transformation. After a settling realization that live music would be grounded for the foreseeable future, The Shivas booked significant studio time with Cameron Spies, who also produced the 2019 Dark Thoughts LP. They also transformed their lives: three of the band’s four members found work with a local nonprofit serving unhoused Portland residents. They became engaged in protests and fundraisers for social justice. They spent a whole summer actually living in Portland, settling into the city they had always called home, but that sometimes felt like a temporary stop between tours. “We got into a more community-minded headspace,” Leonard says. “And that did give us some purpose. It felt cool to see everybody come together to stick up for what they believe in. It feels like an incredibly formative last twelve months.” The album that emerged from this new moment finds The Shivas reborn as a band that seems seasoned and perfectly at home with itself. There is a calm, even a hopefulness, to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad that sounds new. The Shivas didn’t write or record the album with a particular theme in mind, but one seems to have emerged: where Dark Thoughts was about confronting your demons with fearless self-examination, much of Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is about what happens once you find that peace: how being honest with yourself changes your relationships and your priorities. “I do think it’s about acceptance,” Leonard says. “There’s a weird relaxation that comes with being at peace with things you can’t control or have regrets about.” Maybe that’s why the squealing, riff-laden break-up song opener, “Feels So Bad,” is such a shock to the system. But it’s more of an exorcism than a melodrama: more a song about not being able to do the thing you love (in


this case, playing live shows) than splitting with a partner. “It’s like part of you goes to sleep,” Leonard says. As bandmates who are also in a long-term relationship, Molyneux and Leonard know that their songs might be seen as glimpses into their personal lives, but their songwriting is rarely autobiography. Leonard compares their process to something more akin to screenwriting. “There’s bound to be some autobiographical material in there,” she says. “But the common denominator is the exploration of universal feelings: ones that everyone experiences or can relate to.” The goal is to use the music to drill down into something genuine and sincere, beyond genre or stylistic affectation. That’s where The Shivas have arrived. Whatever growth led the band to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad, plenty of their fascinations remain. They’re still turning love songs into psychedelic, transcendent epics. “Tell Me That You Love Me” subverts doo-wop extravagance and dabbles in Flamenco rhythms. “Rock Me Baby” is a bubblegum anthem soaked in so much reverb that we might just be hearing it from the stadium nosebleeds. “Sometimes” is almost impossibly huge, like a witchy outtake from the Brill Building era. Those songs feel like logical expansions from a band that has always excelled at a timeless sort of rock and roll that tinkers with and explodes elements from every era. But on the towering and mournful “You Wanna Be My Man,” a slow-burning six-minute shoegaze prayer for a higher sort of love, there is a level of emotional nuance that feels like something altogether revolutionary. It’s there again in the stripped-down vulnerability of the album-closing elegy “Please Don’t Go.” Yes, Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is an album about acceptance. Sometimes that acceptance feels enlightened and sometimes it feels like the end result of a lot of kicking and screaming. The Shivas have adapted in both of those ways. With new tours scheduled and a new album on the way, they’re still hoping--like all of us--for a new era of vibrant, cathartic live music. The lessons they learned from having their normal upended, though, have only helped them grow