Cerca:eve 6

Die aus Hawthorne, Kalifornien, stammenden Thee Heart Tones setzen mit ihrer Musik sowohl eine Tradition fort als auch neue Grenzen. Leadsängerin Jazmine Alvarado ist gerade mal 19 Jahre alt und das älteste Mitglied der Gruppe, Jorge Rodriguez, ist 21, aber wenn man sich ihre Platte anhört, wird deutlich, dass sie weit über ihr Alter hinaus talentiert sind. Thee Heart Tones, das sind Jazmine (Gesang), Ricky Cerezo (Tasten und Orgel), Jorge (Schlagzeug), Jeffrey Romero (Bass), Peter Chagolla (Leadgitarre) und Walter Morales (Rhythmusgitarre). "Eines Tages bekam ich eine Mail von Ricky Cerezo mit der Frage, ob ich einen Song für seine neue (damals noch namenlose) Band schreiben wolle", erzählt Jazmine. "Ich kannte seinen Schlagzeuger und die anderen Jungs aus der Mittelschule, sie waren also bekannte Gesichter. Sie schickten mir ein mp3 eines Instrumentalstücks, das sie geschrieben hatten, und sagten mir, sie wollten einen Text, also schrieb ich einen und schickte ihn ihnen." Dieser Song wurde schließlich "Don't Take Me as a Fool", eine schwermütige Moll-Ballade, in der Jazmines schwülstiger, perfekter Gesang erklingt, und die nun für ihr Debütalbum bestimmt ist. Ricky ging nach Hause und spielte seinem Vater "Don't Take Me As a Fool" vor, das er als Sprachnotiz auf seinem Telefon aufgenommen hatte. "Ich war zögerlich. Dad kannte diese Musik besser als jeder andere, er ist damit aufgewachsen. Aber er hat sich mein Telefon geschnappt und es an sein Ohr gehalten. Seine Zustimmung bedeutete mir sehr viel. Aber er hatte die gleiche Reaktion wie Jorge und ich, als wir Jazmine zum ersten Mal singen hörten. 'Das wird ein Hit', sagte er mir. Ihr habt hier etwas ganz Besonderes". Es war dieselbe Aufnahme, die Leon Michels und Danny Akalepse von Big Crown Records aufhorchen ließ, die beide sofort das Potenzial der Gruppe erkannten. Nachdem sie bei dem Label unterschrieben hatten, flog Leon nach Los Angeles, um mit Tommy Brenneck in Tommys Diamond West Studio ihr Debütalbum aufzunehmen. In fünf Tagen haben sie 14 Songs aufgenommen, die den Charme des Teenager-Souls einfangen und ihn mit ihren bewährten Produktionsfähigkeiten mischen - das Ergebnis ist ein modernes klassisches Soul-Album. Der Album-Opener und Titeltrack "Forever & Ever" ist ein ansteckender Two-Stepper, der sofort die Stimmung hebt, während schwere B-Seiten-Balladen wie "Should I Call You Tonight", "Cry My Tears Away" und "It's Time" den Klassikern des Genres den Rang ablaufen. Mit "Need Something More" ziehen sie das Tempo an und füllen die Tanzfläche, während Jazmine mit einem Track im Northern-Soul-Stil ganz sachlich die Dinge auf den Punkt bringt. Sie covern den Klassiker "Sabor A Mi" aus der Feder von Alvaro Carrillo mit großem Effekt, werden ihm gerecht und stellen ihre Version auf eine Stufe mit den besten von ihnen. Ein weiterer Höhepunkt ist ihre Version des The Vanguards-Klassikers "Somebody Please", den sie auf eine ganz andere Ebene heben. Die stampfenden Drums von "No Longer Mine" stehen im Kontrast zu Jazmines honigsüßem Gesang und enden mit der düsteren Energie eines Hip-Hop-Samples aus den mittleren 90ern. Forever & Ever ist sowohl ein Beweis für die unverwechselbare musikalische Chemie als auch für das Talent der beiden. Ihre Intentionen als Band sind ein Beweis für ihren kollektiven Charakter. Die Entscheidung, "Sabor A Mi" zu covern, "erlaubt es uns, unser Publikum wissen zu lassen, dass wir zu unseren Wurzeln zurückkehren", sagt Jazmine. "Wenn man in L.A. aufwächst, wird man von der Stadt, den Kunstwerken und der Musik beeinflusst", sagt Ricky. "Dad besaß kein Lowrider-Auto, aber andere Mitglieder unserer Familie schon. Impalas. El Caminos. Wir waren von der Kultur beeinflusst, insbesondere von der Chicano-Kultur. Und Oldies und Soulmusik spielten eine große Rolle." Der Stil. Die Kultur. Die Anspielung auf die Vergangenheit. "Das ist es, was wir anstreben. Wir wollen junge Chicanos mit ihrem Erbe verbinden. Und wir wollen die Menschen vereinen_ alt und jung."

Die aus Hawthorne, Kalifornien, stammenden Thee Heart Tones setzen mit ihrer Musik sowohl eine Tradition fort als auch neue Grenzen. Leadsängerin Jazmine Alvarado ist gerade mal 19 Jahre alt und das älteste Mitglied der Gruppe, Jorge Rodriguez, ist 21, aber wenn man sich ihre Platte anhört, wird deutlich, dass sie weit über ihr Alter hinaus talentiert sind. Thee Heart Tones, das sind Jazmine (Gesang), Ricky Cerezo (Tasten und Orgel), Jorge (Schlagzeug), Jeffrey Romero (Bass), Peter Chagolla (Leadgitarre) und Walter Morales (Rhythmusgitarre). "Eines Tages bekam ich eine Mail von Ricky Cerezo mit der Frage, ob ich einen Song für seine neue (damals noch namenlose) Band schreiben wolle", erzählt Jazmine. "Ich kannte seinen Schlagzeuger und die anderen Jungs aus der Mittelschule, sie waren also bekannte Gesichter. Sie schickten mir ein mp3 eines Instrumentalstücks, das sie geschrieben hatten, und sagten mir, sie wollten einen Text, also schrieb ich einen und schickte ihn ihnen." Dieser Song wurde schließlich "Don't Take Me as a Fool", eine schwermütige Moll-Ballade, in der Jazmines schwülstiger, perfekter Gesang erklingt, und die nun für ihr Debütalbum bestimmt ist. Ricky ging nach Hause und spielte seinem Vater "Don't Take Me As a Fool" vor, das er als Sprachnotiz auf seinem Telefon aufgenommen hatte. "Ich war zögerlich. Dad kannte diese Musik besser als jeder andere, er ist damit aufgewachsen. Aber er hat sich mein Telefon geschnappt und es an sein Ohr gehalten. Seine Zustimmung bedeutete mir sehr viel. Aber er hatte die gleiche Reaktion wie Jorge und ich, als wir Jazmine zum ersten Mal singen hörten. 'Das wird ein Hit', sagte er mir. Ihr habt hier etwas ganz Besonderes". Es war dieselbe Aufnahme, die Leon Michels und Danny Akalepse von Big Crown Records aufhorchen ließ, die beide sofort das Potenzial der Gruppe erkannten. Nachdem sie bei dem Label unterschrieben hatten, flog Leon nach Los Angeles, um mit Tommy Brenneck in Tommys Diamond West Studio ihr Debütalbum aufzunehmen. In fünf Tagen haben sie 14 Songs aufgenommen, die den Charme des Teenager-Souls einfangen und ihn mit ihren bewährten Produktionsfähigkeiten mischen - das Ergebnis ist ein modernes klassisches Soul-Album. Der Album-Opener und Titeltrack "Forever & Ever" ist ein ansteckender Two-Stepper, der sofort die Stimmung hebt, während schwere B-Seiten-Balladen wie "Should I Call You Tonight", "Cry My Tears Away" und "It's Time" den Klassikern des Genres den Rang ablaufen. Mit "Need Something More" ziehen sie das Tempo an und füllen die Tanzfläche, während Jazmine mit einem Track im Northern-Soul-Stil ganz sachlich die Dinge auf den Punkt bringt. Sie covern den Klassiker "Sabor A Mi" aus der Feder von Alvaro Carrillo mit großem Effekt, werden ihm gerecht und stellen ihre Version auf eine Stufe mit den besten von ihnen. Ein weiterer Höhepunkt ist ihre Version des The Vanguards-Klassikers "Somebody Please", den sie auf eine ganz andere Ebene heben. Die stampfenden Drums von "No Longer Mine" stehen im Kontrast zu Jazmines honigsüßem Gesang und enden mit der düsteren Energie eines Hip-Hop-Samples aus den mittleren 90ern. Forever & Ever ist sowohl ein Beweis für die unverwechselbare musikalische Chemie als auch für das Talent der beiden. Ihre Intentionen als Band sind ein Beweis für ihren kollektiven Charakter. Die Entscheidung, "Sabor A Mi" zu covern, "erlaubt es uns, unser Publikum wissen zu lassen, dass wir zu unseren Wurzeln zurückkehren", sagt Jazmine. "Wenn man in L.A. aufwächst, wird man von der Stadt, den Kunstwerken und der Musik beeinflusst", sagt Ricky. "Dad besaß kein Lowrider-Auto, aber andere Mitglieder unserer Familie schon. Impalas. El Caminos. Wir waren von der Kultur beeinflusst, insbesondere von der Chicano-Kultur. Und Oldies und Soulmusik spielten eine große Rolle." Der Stil. Die Kultur. Die Anspielung auf die Vergangenheit. "Das ist es, was wir anstreben. Wir wollen junge Chicanos mit ihrem Erbe verbinden. Und wir wollen die Menschen vereinen_ alt und jung."

These are four historic performances from the Fillmore East and West in 1970, at a time when Miles Davis was single-handedly bringing Jazz into the commercial Rock era. In their unedited form, all selections are previously unissued. The searing white heat of these concerts, originally issued in severely edited form, are now made whole. This set includes several bonus tracks like Wayne Shorter's “Paraphernalia” and “Footprints”, an early version of “Miles Runs The Voodoo Down” plus a rare encore performance of Bitches Brew’s “Spanish Key”.

The visionary Bill Graham had booked Miles on a bill with The Grateful Dead at the Fillmore West and with fellow Columbia artist Laura Nyro in June 1970. The latter recordings are the earliest documented live performances of Miles’s band when he hired two keyboardists--Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett, along with saxophonist Steve Grossman who had replaced Wayne Shorter. The rest of the rhythm section--keyboardist Corea, bassist Dave Holland, drummer Jack DeJohnette and percussionist Airto Moreira--were in the backbone of this band throughout this explosive period.

Curated by Carlos Santana, this set features fascinating firsthand accounts and profound insight into a seismic shift in American society, music, and culture. In a rare, in-depth interview, Miles--while listening to the concert playback--was “so excited about the music that he wanted every set, every note made available to the public...”

Previously Unreleased Recording. Limited to 1200 copies on transparent cherry vinyl. Tip-on jacket, Download code. Insert featuring LP sized original art by Grungie O'Muck. Includes the original recording of Richard Tucker's "Are You Leaving For The Country", later covered by Karen Dalton, and the only song co-written by Karen & Richard, "Sleeping In The Garden". "Richard, Cam & Bert seem to have grasped The Great Harmony. That is, ensemble singing that is at once sweet, precise, funky and a bit sardonic..." -Mike Jahn / New York Times (1970) "For a few years in the late sixties and early seventies Richard Cam & Bert ruled MacDougal St. walking a fine line between the increasingly commercialized demands created by groups like Crosby Stills and Nash and the fierce integrity of earlier folk performers, the generation to which Richard belonged. They managed this with great aplomb, producing original tunes of great integrity and obvious folkloric origins, as well as those which expressed the anarchic omnipresent psychedelia of the moment. They also never abandoned the idea of including some traditional material in their performances. But for the usual random application of luck they could have been very big." - Grungie O'Muck / Artist, Bluesman, Cover artist for their first album and contributor to this one. Richard Tucker, Campbell Bruce, and Bert Lee coalesced as a trio in the spring of 1968, and by the end of that year had become regular performers at fabled Greenwich Village nightspots - The Gaslight, The Bag I'm In, Cafe Feenjon, among others. But mostly they were street singers, busking regularly in Central Park. Their only LP, Limited Edition, was released in 1970, and sold mainly at gigs and on the street. Somewhere in The Stars compiles earlier, previously unreleased recordings, when all three members were signed with Peer-Southern Music publishers as writers and began using their studio to make demos and experiment musically. Beautifully recorded by house engineer Charlie Mack (supervised by Jimmy Ienner), the demos capture a back room casualness and rustic, homespun quality. For me, listening to their songs and harmonies is like entering a world you always hoped existed but had never experienced. Some of the songs were re-recorded the following year for Limited Edition, but many are heard here for the first time. Among them is the original demo for Richard Tucker's song, "Are You Leaving For The Country", which Karen Dalton covered on her seminal 1971 release, In My Own Time. Richard and Karen were husband and wife for much of the 1960s, performing as a duo (initially as a trio with Tim Hardin), and navigating their time on the Village scene while alternating living in a small mining town outside Boulder, Co. before splitting up in 1967. Also making its debut, is the only song Richard and Karen ever wrote together, the haunting "Sleeping In The Garden". Also contains two epic songs by Cam "One Of These First Nights", and "Stockholm") not on their LP, but staples of their live performances, and noted in a gig review by The New York Times, and in a column by future A&R hero, Karin Berg, who was an early champion. Another rarity is the only cover of "Sweet Mama" by Fred Neil we've ever heard. Campell Bruce came to New York in 1967 as lead singer with a band from Washington, DC, The Natty Bumpo. They'd recently signed a record deal with Phillips, but were falling apart. Cam landed in the Village with an acoustic guitar and first started playing and singing in the basket houses, and shortly thereafter at The Gaslight, as the "Cam Bruce Trio" (which included Collin Walcott). After opening for Mose Allison, Cam's hero, the trio went their separate ways, and Cam returned to regular solo gigs at The Flamenco, and the basket houses on Bleecker. Richard and Cam met up on that scene and quickly found a musical kinship as well as becoming best pals. Bert Lee arrived in New York as a runaway the following winter, and began playing and sleeping wherever he could. His sometime accompanist, Ron Price, introduced Bert to Richard and Cam just as Bert's own songs were garnering attention from publishers. According to Bert, "I arrived on the New York scene during a time of great change, and it was the notion of change that influenced me. All around me I saw there were two sorts of songwriters, on the one hand dedicated to the traditions that had inspired them, folk, jazz, the American songbook. On the other hand were songwriters influenced by the wave of experimentation that The Beatles were the perfect example of. Mixing genres, writing lyrics that weren't just about ordinary love and loss. Richard Tucker was a country blues player, with a relaxed and melodic approach to the craft. Cam wrote something more akin to soul songs, with a hint of jazz in the changes. I was writing tunes that sometimes drew on classical structures with a tendency toward what I suppose would be known as prog-rock. But I was rather adamant about not being pinned down stylistically, and so I would write, for example, a song based on some complex classical chord structure, and then go right ahead and write a simple folk song, like Evelyn. Our band was popular locally, and it was this variety that made it distinct." Delmore is excited to present this unearthed treasure, fifteen years in the making. In the words of Richard Tucker, "Tap on your knee, roll on the floor; if you aint free, what's it all for?" "The trio's singing, playing, and writing have all withstood the test of time. Believe me, because I was there. In 1969 R,C&B, myself, Charles John Quarto, David Bromberg, Ron Price, and Keith Sykes were just a few of that year's crop of song-slingers. We were young turks back then, out on the prowl in New York's Greenwich Village for record deals, gigs, and beautiful young women to sleep with and maybe even write a song about. I've lost the names and numbers of those lovelies and I'm not sure what happened to Ron Price, but Richard, Cam, and Bert are back! - Loudon Wainwright lll

The year 2020 sure wasn't the most ideal time to form a band, especially for a group of musicians who never played together before. But for New York rock quintet GIFT, this strangest of periods was the auspicious backdrop for a bold new sound - a dizzying blend of early shoegaze, classic `90s alternative rock and even modern pop. Indeed, that GIFT emerged somewhat fully formed on their 2022 debut album Momentary Presence was a testament to the creative possibilities laying deep within. Now, Illuminator, their Aug. 23 debut album for revered New York independent label Captured Tracks, is the long-awaited payoff of GIFT's ever-growing musical and human chemistry. And while nods are apparent to label forerunners such as Beach Fossils, DIIV and Wild Nothing, GIFT are shepherding those elements into wondrous new vessels for the present moment - sleek, often danceable and frequently mesmerizing. GIFT - vocalist/guitarist TJ Freda, multi-instrumentalists Jessica Gurewitz and Justin Hrabovsky, drummer Gabe Camarano and bassist Kallan Campbell - are firmly enmeshed in the New York scene as talent buyers, photographers, DJs, audio engineers, art directors and, in the case of Campbell, an owner of the beloved Brooklyn DIY venue Alphaville. GIFT introduced Illuminator with "Wish Me Away," their first new song in the 18 months since the debut. With its earworm guitar lines, propulsive rhythms, riveting vocals and mind-expanding aural flourishes, "Wish Me Away" is the perfect sonic springboard from Momentary Presence to where GIFT are going next. It's also a potent reminder that you can still preserve that twinkle in your eye even when you feel like everything's slipping away. On songs such as "Light Runner", "Going In Circles" and "Destination Illumination," Freda demonstrates a newfound confidence and versatility, embracing pop music as a vehicle. The relentless, often painful dance of love has never sounded as exhilarating as on "Going in Circles," while the strident tone poem "Water in My Lungs" conjures the unreal feeling of watching a romantic partner both figuratively and literally fade from view. "This album has a lot of themes of going fast, time passing and things changing," Freda says. Throughout, Freda and company thankfully do much of the hard work for us: falling in love, heartbreak. Watching events and moments go by like cars on the highway. People you once knew coming in and out. Grieving the loss of different phases. Watching everything happen simultaneously. For these and many other reasons, Illuminator, friends, will be the soundtrack to the throughline of your life.

Abstrack Records is back with a new EP, putting the emphasis on instrumental music. Angers based band Auroboros, whose paths crossed on numerous time with Abstracks, largely on the occasion of infamous Freaks Pop festival, delivers twenty minutes of a progressive and cosmic, rocky jam.
«Camel» feels like a pursuit, a chase after an uncatchable vanishing point. The relentless acceleration of the tempo and the increasing power of the instruments feel like they’re leading us to an inconcei- vable paroxysm.

During the breakdown, everything strangely feels faster and calmer at the same time, we think we’re catching a glance at this horizon, even believing we’re reaching it as drums are fading away. But the ascent starts again and the trance is non negotiable. The power stream of the instrumental energies washes over the immobiles and the sceptics.

On the B side, two very different reworks complete the picture. Romain FX distills the dancefloor essence of «Camel». With a cosmic, almost oriental approach. The original piece gives birth to a proper peak-time banger, pure leg shaking material.

Mytron gives us a more playful and trippy remix. Seven minutes of a vibe that seems to be spinning and drifting, without ever breaking the patiently settled groove, filled with tribal spirit and sometimes even humour.

The Circus is a place of lights and colors, but also of shadows, even darkness. Admittedly, it delights children and makes adults laugh. But you only need one rainy autumn evening near a circus tent and the smell of fodder to think of the sadness of the clowns, the endless training of the animals and the freaks who are hidden in some caravan... cinema, the essence of the circus – movement, light, danger and burlesque – will have been admirably rendered in Notes on the circus by Jonas Mekas (1966), one of the inventors of the filmed diary. With Cirque, Michèle Bokanowski does similar work, entirely dedicated to spinning, in the musical field.

She distinguished herself in particular in the composition of musique concrète, among others Tabou and Trois chambres d'inquiétudes, after having studied with Pierre Schaeffer and Éliane Radigue. The latter, great lady of drone and minimalism, fell under the spell of Cirque and wrote the booklet for the piece as a poem.

The piece, divided into five movements, is based on the handling and editing of recordings captured within one or more circuses (this is not specified and is of no importance) between 1988 and 1993. The initial allegro reveals the gallop of a horse joined gradually by other images. The idea of the circular space of the circus tent is immediatly and magnificently rendered and will be constantly recalled by an insistent use of the loop technique. Children's laughter, applause and drum rolls are thus sheared, repeated before being brutally interrupted. Accordion interludes and the distortion of sounds create a dreamlike atmosphere. This beautiful nightmare reminds us, to quote Éliane Radigue, the "Magic of childhood still living in the heart of man even beyond its abrupt end."

Words by Alexandre Galand, from the book “Field Recording – L’usage sonore du monde en 100 albums” (ed. Le mot et le reste, 2012)

Major member of the french musique concrète scene, Michèle Bokanowski was born on August 9, 1943 in Cannes, FR, to a musician mother and a writer father. She now lives and works in Paris.
Music lover since adolescence, it was relatively late, at the age of 22, that Michèle Bokanowski decided to study composition. Reading In Search of a Concrete Music by Pierre Schaeffer was decisive. After classical training on harmony, she met Michel Puig, a student of René Leibowitz, who taught her writing and analysis based on the Treatise of Schönberg. In September 1970 she began a two-year internship in the ORTF Research Department under the direction of Pierre Schaeffer. She takes part in the same time in a research group on sound synthesis, studies musical computing at the Faculty of Vincennes and electronic music with Éliane Radigue.
Her main works are intended for concert: Pour un pianiste, Trois chambres d’inquiétude, Tabou, Phone Variations, Cirque, L’étoile Absinthe, Chant d’Ombre, Enfance, Rhapsodia, Cadence, Elsewhere. She has also composed for theater (with Catherine Dasté), dance (with choreographers Hideyuki Yano, Marceline Lartigue, Bernardo Montet) and cinema: music for the short films of Patrick Bokanowski and his two feature films L'Ange ( 1982) and A Solar Dream (2016).

Søren Skov Orbit's debut album, "Adrift," is at once subtle and profound. The saxophonist and his collaborators have created something quite special and consistently deep. This record may not easily be classifiable, but the most interesting music creeps between the lines

Danish tenor and soprano saxophonist Søren Skov (Debre Damo Dining Orchestra) and keyboardist Peder Vind co-founded the trippy quintet Søren Skov Orbit in 2016 to explore “more jazzy ideas,” as the saxophonist puts it. Joined by a rhythm section steeped in contemporary improvisation and psychedelia, bassist Casper Nyvang Rask, drummer Rune Lohse and percussionist Ayi Solomon of the legendary 80's Ghanaian roots/highlife band Classique Vibes, the Orbit belts out a richly focused helping of broadly African-inspired modern jazz with a hazy sheen.

On the opening “Notifications of Nothingness,” Skov digs in his heels, a steely but languid unspooling of burnished tenor lines atop condensed, quavering piano and the thick footfalls of bass and percussion. As a tenor player, Skov has done his homework and has a kinship with Albert Ayler, Archie Shepp, J.R. Monterose, and the Dutchman Hans Dulfer, but he clearly has got his own robust phraseology and expressiveness. He also cites multi-reedists John Gilmore, Yusef Lateef, and Bilal Abdurahman as, “some of the players I’ve been listening to the most for the last 10-15 years.”

A healthy dose of reverb is present throughout the album, echoing Alton Abraham’s studio wizardry with the Sun Ra Arkestra or the trance-inducing and compressed fidelity of certain Ethio-jazz and Mystic Revelations of Rastafari sessions. Skov notes that, “everything is recorded live at the same time in the same room. I wanted to do it that way in order to catch the dynamics and authenticity of the music.” There is, in fact, a complex teeter- totter between crisp and hazy execution, achieved by a delicately balanced mix that keeps the group’s sound simultaneously advancing and receding. Vind’s phrasing is terse and introspective, a vibrating echo that nudges and reflects on Skov’s brusque tenor in a dance of sonic displacement.

“Orbiting” pits a chunky backbeat and the teetering, taut hand-rhythms of Solomon against an infectious, almost microtonal piano riff, while Skov’s arpeggios are clean and florid as he patiently rises up from under a carpet of funky loops. Following the freer “Reflections of Rif,” “Naration” lilts with a wink at “Footprints” and tugs between up-tempo polyrhythmic drive, clanging keyboard accents, and the innately steadfast keenness of the bandleader. The coupling of Solomon and Lohse is a big part of the group’s detailed energy; as the leader puts it, “Ayi knows everything about regional differences in drum patterns. He is always listening and super responsive, and his and Rune’s dynamics are amazing.” The music both presents a “vibe” and keeps the door open for engaging well under the surface as repeated listens will be extremely rewarding.

10 years after its release, Lydia Loveless sits down at the piano for an intimate reimagining of her landmark album, Somewhere Else. Title track featuring guest vocals by Jason Isbell. “Over the last 10 years I’ve been told by countless people, emotional and earnest, that their favorite record of mine is Something Else. I love that, and I nod in amused reverence to it here. The me of 2012-2013 was drowning in pain and insecurity and my own press, pissed off that nobody could see me for who I really was, what I had really been through, and how hard it was to be me. I was walled in by fears and worries that I would never be good enough. I was struggling with my voice after a debilitating virus and a six week tour. I had rented a little room in the Grandview neighborhood of Columbus and was plugging away on my splintered acoustic guitar with a tape recorder.

I was frustrated as could be, not coming up with anything that I felt was 'me' or even remotely song like. One day, when I finally thought I had a nugget of something, I read the lyrics aloud to my then husband and he looked at me confused and said, 'what are you even trying to say in this, though? Who is the narrator?' I don’t remember what I said to that but I’m sure it wasn’t kind. When I went back into the studio with my friend Caeleigh Featherstone recording me this go round, she looked at me at one point and said, 'Were you singing these songs in front of old dudes? Like, your husband?' Yes, I was, I told her. We both shook our heads and laughed at the hubris on 22-year-old Lydia Loveless.” - Lydia Loveless

Miles At The Fillmore - The Bootleg Series Vol. 3 features four historic perfor- mances from the Fillmore East and West in 1970, at a time when Miles Davis was single-handedly bringing jazz into the commercial rock era.

The visionary Bill Graham had booked Miles on a bill with The Grateful Dead at the Fillmore West and with fellow Columbia artist Laura Nyro in June 1970. The latter recordings are the earliest documented live performances of Miles’s band when he hired the keyboardists Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett, along with saxophonist Steve Grossman who had replaced Wayne Shorter. The rest of the rhythm section - bassist Dave Holland, drummer Jack De- Johnette and percussionist Airto Moreira - were the backbone of his band throughout this explosive period.

Curated by Carlos Santana, this set features fascinating firsthand accounts and profound insight into a seismic shift in American society, music, and culture. In a rare, in-depth interview, Miles was “so excited about the music that he wanted every set, every note made available to the public...” The searing heat of these concerts, originally issued in severely edited form, are now made whole. This set includes several bonus tracks like Wayne Shorter’s “Paraphernalia” and “Footprints”, an early version of “Miles Runs The Voodoo Down” plus a rare encore performance of “Spanish Key” from the Bitches Brew album.

The Bootleg Series Vol. 3: Miles At The Fillmore is available as a deluxe 6-LP boxset, housed in a lift-off box. This 6LP-set includes printed inner sleeves and a 12-page booklet with extensive liner notes and rare photos.

2024 Repress

Somniac One's fourth EP for PRSPCT XTRM is a love song to hardcore of yore, featuring two nostalgic original tracks and a hellfire remix of Party In My Head anthem 'Kill Everyone' by the one and only Deathmachine.

Somniac One's intense atmospheres and sledgehammer kicks get a euphoric lick on 'The Grand Awokening', a tribute to the millennium hardcore sound this industrial warrior was raised on. 'Hard Synths '92' meanwhile takes cues from even further back down the timeline, marrying early rave stabs and sentiment with Somniac One's thoroughly modern sound design and identifiable signature.

Technically skilled and hard as nails, Deathmachine then breaks the back of Somniac One's much loved 2018 banger 'Kill Everyone', delivering a crossbreed mutant remix that's gonna slay dance floors all over again.

Immerse yourself in a unique narrative experience, embarking on a vibrant journey that will awaken your senses and evoke warm memories.

Play as Mimi, exploring the precious recollections of your childhood and the times shared with your late grandmother. As past meets present, confront your adult choices with fond childhood memories to uncover lost family secrets.

For the OST, SUPERNAIVE brothers oscillates between melancholy and wonder. They build a strong narrative throughout the songs, taking the listener by the hand to discover their unique poetic universe.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

There are ghosts all across AVANTI, the debut album from Malice K. At points it's howling and unhinged, a grungy layer atop a lush foundation of melodic capital-s Songwriting, but in other moments it dissolves into a gentle, wistful haunting. Malice K's songs are blunt, uncomplicated and unflinching as he probes the interiority of memories, of mistakes - saturated with an innate intensity that sucks you into his gnarled and visceral world, so barbed it could draw blood. Malice K is helmed by visual artist and songwriter Alex Konschuh, New York-based but born and raised in Olympia, Washington. Following a stint living in Los Angeles, where he became a member of the artist collective Death Proof Inc., a trip to New York resulted in him simply never leaving the city. A period of chaos ensued, Malice K exhausted and unmoored and ultimately, unwell. The record is unpredictable across its 11 songs. The album opens with a jarring scream on "Halloween," Malice K's breathless vocals buried beneath a grungy, roving Nineties riff. The track emanates a manic energy, enveloping. It's a fitting entrypoint for the record, and for the vividness of Malice K. The snarling and obsessive "You're My Girl" has a swaggering paranoia: "I got so high I thought my hand touching my hand was your hand." But AVANTI exists in quieter moments too; "Radio," with its fluttering morose cello, moves at an almost glacial pace comparatively. The aching wistfulness of "The Old House" is an album stand-out, anchored in an acoustic guitar, an uneasy lullaby that never quite settles into itself: "I think to myself I got the things that I wanted, but I can't help think there's something else that I forgot to do." A recent press interview called Malice K a shapeshifter, but he's not amorphous in that way. He's decisive and intense, more concerned with carving his own path, and building his own world. Every part of Malice K is distinctly himself: from his sweaty high-octane shows to the high-flash high-contrast photos; from his gnarled and unsettling illustrations to the studio recordings that vacillate between grief and tenderness, there's an exceptional ferocity across everything Malice K touches. AVANTI feels lived in, like peering into an abandoned house through a window smeared with grimy fingerprints, relics of a life well-lived scattered inside - despite being a debut, there's the sense that Malice K arrived fully-realized, imperfections and all.

The latest full-length from Kishi Bashi, Kantos is a work of exquisite duality: a party album about the possible end of humanity as we know it, at turns deeply unsettling and sublimely joyful. In a sonic departure from the symphonic folk of his critically lauded 2019 LP Omoiyari - a career-defining body of work born from his intensive meditation on the mass incarceration of Japanese-Americans during World War II - the Seattle-born singer/songwriter/producer's fifth studio album encompasses everything from Brazilian jazz and '70s funk to orchestral rock and city pop (a Japanese genre that peaked in the mid-'80s). Informed by an equally kaleidoscopic mix of inspirations - the cult-classic sci-fi novel series Hyperion Cantos, the writings of 18th century enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant, a revelatory trip to ancient ruins on the island of Crete - Kantos ultimately serves as an unbridled exaltation of the human spirit and all its wild complexities. During the earliest stages of creating songs for the album, Ishibashi's main intent was to return to his highly eclectic musical roots, in part by tapping into his jazz background and by delving into the dance-rock-leaning sensibilities he previously embraced as co-founder of Brooklyn-bred indie band Jupiter One. But not too long into the songwriting process, he stumbled upon an AI-equipped website capable of composing catchy song hooks based on a prompt - a turn of events that quickly catalyzed the existential inquiry at the heart of Kantos. Although his ruminations on AI, transhumanism, and humanity's troubled fate indelibly guided the making of Kantos, Ishibashi nonetheless views the album as "less of a warning about this kind of hubris but more a celebration of the very characteristics that make us human: desire, passion, empathy, and love." "If there's anything I want people to come away with when they hear this record, it's a feeling of excitement about the possibilities of human-created art," he says. "Even as we're learning more about all the amazing things AI can do, I think humans will always be one step ahead in terms of our creativity and innovation. There's still no limit to what we have to offer."

‘The Oakland band’s wide-ranging debut is a whirlwind of biting critique, nervy post-punk guitars, and absurdist humor. Rarely does a first record speak with such a trenchant voice.’ 7.5 PITCHFORK
‘Post-punk lovers have a new act to follow" - PASTE
Fake Fruit’s visceral indie rock operates so firmly in the present that it’s transportive and unmooring. The Oakland trio’s songs careen with volatile energy and lead singer Ham D’Amato’s lyrics are enveloped with acerbic humor and resonant perceptiveness. Though their new LP Mucho Mistrust is a sly reference to a beloved Blondie lyric, the title encapsulates both the anxieties of daily life, a bloodless music industry, and global capitalism as well as the clear-eyed skepticism needed to rebel against it. Across 12 propulsively unpredictable tracks, the album is both their most collaborative and most immediate yet.
Following the 2021 release of Fake Fruit’s self-titled debut LP, the band’s personal lives hit a turbulent and transformational period. “There were big life changes and I was so close to boiling over,” says D’Amato. “I left a bad relationship, entered a more stable and loving one, got diagnosed with alopecia, and I'm turning 30 soon too.” This personal upheaval was channeled into the explosive lead single “Mucho Mistrust.” The track is simultaneously disorienting and direct, with clanging guitars from Alex Post, off-kilter drums from Miles MacDiarmid, and D’Amato snarling, “How you gonna blame me / when you could’ve done something about it / it’s not right / How you gonna marinate me / in shitty things overnight.” She explains, “This song was a snapshot of how I got through a difficult year.”
Recorded live at the Bay Area’s Atomic Garden studio with producer Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Home Is Where), the band’s palpable ferocity shines throughout the record. Single “Más o Menos” is searing punk, with buzzsaw guitars and surging bass. It’s a clenched-fist song, one where D’Amato sings, “I decided to assert myself / After I lost all my sense of self.” Later in the track, D’Amato, who is Chicana, sings in Spanish, “¡No me hables! / ¡No escuchare!” While some of these songs deal in heartbreak, they are charged with way bigger themes. “There's also wanting to break up with capitalism and feeling upset about things politically,” says D’Amato.
For the band, these themes are personal. “I'm managing us while I'm in between changing diapers in my day job as a nanny,” says D’Amato. “Everyone in the band still believes in it and is motivated to keep wading through the bullshit.” On this album, they had no choice but to bet on themselves and each other. No track broadcasts their evolution better than the single “Cause of Death,” which morphs from a gorgeous sax-laden banger to something cathartic and anthemic.
As adventurous and righteous as Mucho Mistrust gets, there’s still an inviting core that never takes itself too seriously. From the ripping “Cause of Death,” which self-deprecatingly takes aim at anxiety and indecision, to the searing title track, Fake Fruit imbue their songs with humor and heart. “Our band is fun,” says D’Amato. “My number one coping mechanism for all of life is to joke about it. Even when the album talks about serious things, I am proud of how funny it can be.”

Maggie Antone ist die neue timme im Alt-Country: Nachdem ihr Cover von Tyler Childers "Lady May" über eine Million Likes bei TikTok sammelte,
begann sie, an ihrem Debütalbum zu arbeiten.
Antones kommendes Album Rhinestoned mit zehn Songs ist ein überzeugender Beweis dafür, dass die aus Virginia stammende Sängerin das nächste
große Ding im Country sein könnte. Das Album, das auf ihrem eigenen Label Love Big via Thirty Tigers erscheint, baut auf dem durchschlagenden
Erfolg ihrer Debütsingle "Suburban Outlaw" auf. Auch wenn ihre Stimme einen in ihren Bann zieht, so ist es doch die Verletzlichkeit ihres
Songwritings, die einen immer wieder zurückkommen lässt.

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.