Search:even as we speak

Berlin based Millhouse has been bangin' out the tunes for over 20 years, playing in venues across Europe alongside many of the world’s top DJ’s, continuously demonstrating energetic musical dynamics in mixing and producing the machine based techno he’s become so well-known and respected for.
Continuing with the ‘Limited As Fuck’ series of releases, on our fiercely independent techno label based in Scotland, we’re absolutely going to cause outrageous arm waving behaviour on the dance floors with this scandalous techno due to the despicable nature of the notoriety it’s going to make for itself. Full of driving kicks, bass lines and sinister synth stabs, this release will set off a series of events that’ll shock your speakers with outrageous consequences.

WARNING: TUMULTUOUS TECHNO OF SUCH MAGNITUDE CAN ONLY LEAD TO A DANCE FLOOR DISASTER SHOW

Somewhere in the Lower-Franconian vineyards lies a hidden and mostly unknown canyon, a place that often returns to the thoughts and dreams of Läuten der Seele’s Christian Schoppik. Though a much rarer occurrence now as a consequence of environmental change, chance encounters upon the area in the past would sometimes reveal small ponds amongst the reeds, teeming with life and populated by colonies of newts and the now endangered yellow bellied toad. The transience of the water and the wildlife it hosts, dependent on season or climate, lends the area an almost fantastical, dream-like quality. Was it ever even there at all? A secret place that may or may not be present holds vast appeal to some enquiring minds… Ertrunken Im Seichtesten Gewässer, the third Läuten der Seele album in two years, is inspired directly by these experiences. Translating as ‘drowned in the shallowest stretch of water’, a title as pregnant with dread as it is wonder, the themes present speak both to personal memories and a wider understanding of place and time, and how we might interpret our own position within an ever-changing, sometimes disappearing world.

The record is presented as two long-form pieces divided into four separate movements, each titled so as to reflect this natural environment and its intersection with imagination, relying on processes of collage that draw from myriad indeterminable samples, field recordings and various recorded instruments. Those familiar with Schoppik’s work, both as Läuten der Seele and with Brannten Schnüre, will find present many of his signature tropes - the way deeply layered collages render abstracted visions of the past alive in the present - though what is always significant about his approach is not so much aesthetic as the wider concepts it attempts to express and emote. Indeed, emotional response is key to the Läuten der Seele sound, how overlapping notions of nostalgia, memory and identity calibrate experience and understanding of who we are and the world around us, whether it’s a world that’s gone or another imagined into being. If you observe the artwork closely enough, you may find a clue as to the canyon’s location, though such specifics are besides the point. The music itself infers a wider sense of the impermanence that characterises hidden worlds, wherever they might be or whoever they might belong to.

Cory Hanson"s third solo LP follows upon 2020"s luminescent Pale Horse Rider, upping the heat to molten levels, six strings at a time. In search of further adventures, Cory draws with vampiric glee from the madness coursing through the world outside; a spiraling shitshow that"s reawakened a compulsion in him - an old ambition, even! - to crush brutality and elegance together into a fresh set of rocks to hail down upon us. Western Cum is a high-stepping, hard-dancing, first love/heartbreak, tonight"s-the-night, future nostalgia kind of good time - the sound of guitars through the speakers of luxury cars. Like the dream you had once, alone, asleep in an amplifier, blasting Guns N" Roses through every last orifice in your body. And it"s coming through! Western Cum"s map to the treasure is less about pastiche, though; more toward executing the songs by executioner"s axe, rolling their decapitated rhythm heads and soaring melodies, the panoply of Cory"s melodic impulses with guitars, guitars, guitars. Harmony leads are just the tip of the iceberg, but be quick - the guitars like to melt everything in their path! The eight songs of Western Cum are driven by the stalwart bass of brother Casey Hanson and the drums of Evan Backer with a few passing acoustics from Cory and the intermittent spirit-moans of Tyler Nuffer"s steel guitar. The quartet sound - two guitars, bass and drums - acts as beat-making principle/phrasing device, as well as template for Cory"s layers of six-string and vocal textures. From the rooftop of their musical safe house - the band in their makeshift hut and Cory ensconced in an outhouse - they let loose with a blast both face-melting and mind-blowing: a social service that gives constipation a good name.

Long out-of-print release available digitally for the first time. Extensive notes by a local writer in English and French. Previously unpublished family photos. Urbanized traditional music at a dance-floor-friendly tempo. The very definition of an "Awesome Tape From Africa". Roger Bekono made a deep mark in the contemporary history of Cameroonian music through the four-on-the-floor, ribald intensity of bikutsi. The Ewondo-language dance-pop style that forms an undulating tapestry of interlocking triplet rhythmic interplay came to international prominence in the European "world music" scene as the 90s began. But the relentless sound of bikutsi developed in Yaoundé at the hands of Bekono and many others, as it developed from a village-based singing style performed mostly by women into a cosmopolitan music force that rivaled the popularity of established musics like Congolese rhumba, merengue and makossa. With his unique—some say suave—voice, Bekono contributed much over a period of more than 10 years as part of the evolution of this traditional rhythm-turned-urban dance movement. Bekono worked with legendary producer Mystic Jim, who had built a prolific home studio along with a crack team of musicians. They joined as part of the production of his self-titled album, which became known locally as "Jolie Poupée," the name of the album's lead single and most popular song. For "Jolie Poupée" Mystic Jim programmed the kick or bass drum, adding effects to have a heavier bass. Overall the album represented a new level of finesse and professionalism for his second release. In the middle of 1989, Jolie Poupée was released by the label Inter Diffusion System and aggressively hit the radio, discos and national television. The music video for the title track was on loop on TV. It felt like everyone was talking about it, even artists in adjacent music scenes like makossa. The album came out on vinyl and cassette and remains Bekono's best-selling recording to this day. With Jolie Poupée Bekono finally made an impact outside Cameroon as the record captured listeners in some Central African countries like Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Republic of Congo and Sao Tome & Principe. In these countries, we find the Fang or Mfan people (also known as Ekang), Bantu-speaking ethnic groups that are also found in Cameroon. This umbrella language group includes the language in which bikutsi is mainly sung. Most of Bekono's songs are in French, Ewondo (of which Beti is a dialect) and Pidgin. The four songs on Jolie Poupée are all considered bikutsi classics. On September 15, 2016, Bekono died of a long illness at the age of 62. In the wake of his passing the media published a wave of tributes, thanking him for what he did for Cameroonian music. He was an admired musician, songwriter and guitarist, and some of his old colleagues and some of the new generation of performers showered Bekono with vibrant tributes via social media, many of which noting something to the effect of: "The artist dies but his works remain."

Vladislav Delay presents the third EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Pointillist club rhythms and dense, porous dub clouds encircle the Wrecked Lightship as Laurie Osborne and Adam Winchester set sail for phantom islands once more. The nocturnal boatswains chart a course guided by pronounced percussive impulses, using physicality to navigate the looming atmospheric pressure that has become their signature style.

Opening tracks ‘Arial’ and ‘Third Law’ speak to the roots of Osborne and Winchester’s respective work as Appleblim and Wedge, dealing in dancefloor abstractions where techno, electro and dubstep once stood, but there’s much more at play than simple genre tags could ever express. ‘Third Law’s electro-static interference calls back to Winchester’s work in Dot Product, while the twitchy urgency and gnarly bass echoes Osborne’s ALSO project with Second Storey.

Wrecked Lightship is an anchorless concern, free to drift into experimental waters if the currents surge that way, and so ‘Kill Mirror’ and ‘Hydrotower’ head away from forthright structures to play around with sound design and full-frequency manipulation. It’s too kinetic and jagged to be considered ambient, even if it willfully shirks the dancefloor. But for every starboard swerve there’s a prevailing wind, and the likes of finely-tuned club weapon ‘Take It Back’ whip ahead with laser-eyed focus.

Nailing their split interests between immediacy and the avant-garde to the mast, Wrecked Lightship deepen the reach of their project on their second album. Whatever shape a specific track might take, Oceans & Seas serves as a paean to the art of sonic manipulation and spatial processing.

Written and produced by Adam Winchester and Laurence Osborne
Artwork by Chloe Grove
Layout by Takashi Makabe
Text by Oliver Warwick
Mastered and cut by Simon at The Exchange

Their masterpiece? With breaks for dayyyyyys and an almost ambient, heavy jazz atmosphere throughout, *this* is the apex of British jazz-rock fusion. We'll Talk About It Later was first released on Vertigo in 1971 and original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has kept relevant. To steal a line from a review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

We'll Talk About It Later is arguably Nucleus's best album. Not only that, it's in the top 5 of all fusion albums. By the time Nucleus entered Trident Studios in September 1970 to record Elastic Rock's successor, they had already won a best group award at the Montreux Jazz Festival. Once again presented in a Roger Dean designed die-cut gatefold sleeve it continued to demonstrate the chemistry and interplay that worked so brilliantly on Elastic Rock; Carr's sumptuous trumpet and flügelhorn lines, Karl Jenkins's funk-filled electric keyboards, Chris Spedding's wah-wah guitar, Brian Smith's sax and the rhythmic foundation of drummer John Marshall and bassist Jeff Clyne.

The group work and insane musicianship Nucleus were famed for is in evidence from the off. The intensely funky "Song for the Bearded Lady" is absolute FIRE, blasting out the speakers to leave listeners floored. Counterpoint riffing segues into a spacious groove and a Carr trumpet solo demonstrating the influence of electric Miles from the period. The stop-start funk of "Sun Child" would appeal to Soft Machine devotees whilst the genuinely touching "Lullaby for a Lonely Child" is a lovely downtempo ballad. Featuring an understated, reflective horn line from Carr and Smith and atmospheric, shimmering bouzouki from Spedding, there's an exotic flavour which contributes to the bliss. The ominous, sleazy title track retains a swaggering menace and is not the only track to lend a sort of heavy stoner rock atmosphere. The guitars and bass are deep and low throughout, conjuring heavy psych moments to go with the actual jazz and even funk. To say this album was in conversation with Bitches Brew would not be overstating the sheer brain-frying brilliance.

The Weather Report-adjacent "Oasis" opens Side B, a colossal track featuring nearly 10 minutes of steadily building melodic horns, keys and choppy guitar riffs. So ace, it could easily go on for another 10. Mesmeric. Spedding adds unique vocals to the undeniable groove of "Ballad of Joe Pimp" whilst saxophonist Smith's duet with drummer Marshall at the conclusion of "Easter 1916" - inspired by the Yeats poem about the Irish nationalist uprising in Dublin - adopts the wildness of the most incendiary free jazz.

This Be With edition of We'll Talk About It Later has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at AIR Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning die-cut sleeve has been restored with the original gatefold window pane depicting the Irish uprising in 1916. Incredible, timeless, guaranteed spine-chills.

A self- described "semi- professional" musician since he was 14, Barna played drums for Deaf West Theatre's Los Angeles production of Spring Awakening and on the national Broadway tour for The Producers, but it took a trip to Berlin's Club Legarré, and its English-speaking open mic, to find his own voice as a songwriter and performer. His new album is a collection of stories, vulnerable and
openhearted, of his New York. In his words, "It's a character study of the bar itself.

It's a safe space, but there's alcohol, drugs, sadness, and your own demons."

Recorded in Rochester, Seán wrote late into the night as producer (producer!) and his kids slept. Moving fast, Macri Park became the center of a song cycle documenting giddiness, grief, history, and everything in- between. He enlisted friends, including Counting Crows' Adam Duritz and David Immerglück, harpist and songwriter Mikaela Davis, Danielle Ponder, and Maria Taylor, to bring his world to life.

Gatefold Green Vinyl Double LP with design by Dian Vandermeulen, the popular Canadian visual artist
(limited edition cassette version will be released by Not Not Fun).

Between December 2018 and 2019, Stefana Fratila embarked on a series of research trips across North America (including to NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory and NASA Goddard Space Centre), meeting with astronomers and scientists in order to address a complex question: “If each planet in our solar system were a different room, what would each room sound like?”

Her ongoing creative research culminated in Sononaut, eight open-source VST plug-ins created for digital audio workstations (DAWs) that emulate the atmospheric conditions of the planets in our solar system (made in collaboration with artist and coder Jen Kutler, using calculations by NASA astronomer and planetary scientist Dr. Conor Nixon).

Her forthcoming album I want to leave this Earth behind is the sonic extension of her creative research.

In her own words: “The album is conceptual, in that it centres on outer space exploration and my understanding of 'Crip futurity'. My vision is for the album to engage listeners in an exercise of imagining the sounds of interplanetary atmospheres– conditions which are inherently unlivable, unbreathable, converting all human body-minds into disabled-bodied-ness. Since I identify as Crip, or disabled, this idea deeply resonates with me. I am the first artist (a disabled producer/musician, no less) to have worked with NASA researchers on a sonic imagining of the solar system’s atmospheres that incorporates real scientific data. If we are all 'disabled' in (or by) outer space, my music is concerned with propelling all listeners into space, leaving Earth behind them, through my music.”

The solar system’s planetary bodies are inherently prohibitive even in regards to Earth’s most ‘able-bodied’ subjects. Her project seizes upon a form of radical agency and science-fictive ambition, placing all human subjects within new worlds, into the interplanetary bodies of our solar system, through her own sonic imaginings.

The album will be released by Toronto-based label Halocline Trance (Casey MQ, myst milano, ACT!).

During a 2019 residency at CMMAS (Centro Mexicano para la Música y las Artes Sonoras) in Morelia, Mexico, Fratila began writing the album on an octophonic sound system (8 planets = 8 speakers).

Afterwards, from her home studio in Toronto, she recorded additional synthesizer parts, finalized arrangements, and incorporated Sononaut (her 8 solar system VST plug-ins) into the album’s production. The album was recorded, written, and produced by Fratila. She worked with mixing engineer Jeremy Greenspan (Jessy Lanza, Caribou, Junior Boys), as well as mixing engineer Lisa Conway and mastering engineer Sage Kim.

Underlining each track is a five-minute soundscape representing the weather on that planet, based on Fratila’s research at NASA. The weather patterns are interwoven with layers of synths and time-stretched samples.

There are very few disabled femme electronic artists gaining exposure in Canada today.

11th album by the one-of-a-kind collective: psychedelia and free form jazz (not jazz) trigger a sophisticated excursion into weird textures with drastic turns. Dislocated dense music full of secret connections!

Kammerflimmer Kollektief – "Schemen"

Before reason prevails, invoked by those who want everything to remain as it is, Kammerflimmer Kollektief disrupts the established supply chains of sound. It seeks more interesting ways to assemble them. Trusting in this, because of the fact that every sound that still comes out of a guitar, a bass, a harmonium, drums and electronic devices has already been taken into the common mangle of meaning anyway. Enough of all that. Here, nothing is explained. Here we speak in schemes. Polished and jerky.

The images that Kammerflimmer Kollektief conjures up therefore happen not in the focus of consciousness, but rather in its outer realms. In those to which one does not give one's full attention at the moment, but which are nevertheless perceived. For example, when a leaf falls from the ground back up to the tree in the corner of your eye, and for an instant you think this is possible, before you realize it was a small bird flying into the tree; it is in just such irritating moments between perception and realization that the art of the Kollektief also unfolds. On "Schemen", familiar fragments float gently around their core – a Fender Rhodes tone, a bass figure, a guitar motif, a masterful drum shuffle, a moment of icy stasis borrowed from the harmonium playing of Christa 'Nico' Päffgen. Triggering brief associations, they slowly rush off in other directions through free jazz-informed editing work, whereupon such zones can also arise in which perception has a few tricks ready and earlier experience suddenly breaks into the now in a completely different way. Half suspected, half seen.

Half-music like Can from Cologne – also masters of improvised editing – sometimes produced a few decades ago in their in-between moments. The first minutes of "Future Days" for example, which fade in gently, sketch a barely graspable figure emerging from all directions of the room. Kammerflimmer Kollektief also engages in similarly open moments of development. Loosely, it eludes the first formative impressions, keeping itself ready for moments that do not follow any logic of appointment. This looseness in handling makes Kammerflimmer Kollektief so fluidly audible, even when dissonant peaks and free playing arise. What Karlheinz Stockhausen is to Can's understanding of composition, the recordings of The Cocoon are to Kammerflimmer Kollektief. The Cocoon, a meeting of garage psychedelics from the Hannover area with free jazzers from the Galaxie Dream Band, whose album "While The Recording Engineer Sleeps", recorded in 1985 in unguarded moments, operates in a very similar way with decentralized perceptual ambivalences and only appeared more or less secretly four years later on Wilhelm Reich Schallspeicher. Other traces of "Schemen" lead to the debut album of Quicksilver Messenger Service. The guitars of Gary Duncan and John Cipollina, which refer to themselves in an unforced manner, are instructions to let go. They don't want to be traced in every note as a solo, but they give their music a sense that the essential takes place off center, in the mutual and intuitive gift of loving attentions. Consciousness-free.

Loving turns like the little guitar phrase that, like a kind of leitmotif, is repeatedly ghosting more or less unchanged through all of the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums. A Coricidin induced, very catchy slide idea filtered out of ancient Æther, which – who knows – maybe even centuries ago found its way from somewhere to America – the old, the eerie – and from there wafted on through the ages to southern Germany, to a smoky studio in the Upper Rhine lowlands. A memory of which even the memory no longer knows what it once reminded. Unsaid, then forgotten.

In Kammerflimmer Kollektief you will also find a friend of slowly building, unhurried music, which probably would have been appreciated by the old Franz Mesmer, who 200 years ago, after tranquilizing treatments, sometimes used to play for his patients ambient melodies on the enormous glass harmonica. However, in order not to surrender completely to the flow of one's own life energy, as Mesmer had in mind with his therapies, Kammerflimmer Kollektief occasionally adds hectic tensions, gently embraced by the droning of a sine wave generator, as if a trance could briefly refesh. This old analog sine wave generator is new in the Kammerflimmer assortment of sounds. So, the art of the Kollektief likes to dock occasionally in modern times, yet with the past in mind. Mental states begin to flicker between imagination and certainty, between culture-bound art expression and coincidences: A cawing and scraping can always just be a cawing and scraping with Kammerflimmer Kollektief, the way Andy Warhol's mushroom eater just eats a mushroom.

Heike Aumüller's cover works, which illustrate all the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums, additionally act as amplifiers of unexplained refractions. Her style consists of eye-corner art that remains so, even when looked at directly. Her shots remain disquieting because they do not jolt themselves into a reassuring order, even in retrospect. Rather than evading the fear that arises when looking at them by trying to impose some irrational rhyme or reason, that fear must simply be endured. This strategy of endurance is equally applicable to the music. The trick is to let parts be parts without compulsively seeking delusional patterns that lull us into a false sense of security and in doing so, possibly delude ourselves. In this context, freedom means not having to anxiously attach a fantasized superior meaning to everything. "Schemen" has an conspiracy disintegrating effect.


b A2 Zweites Kapitel (ruckartig) [feat. Heike Aumüller]

Summer Forever And Ever succeeds Blue Gene Stew, 2019’s debut by the Wolfmanhattan Project, a collective unit co-starring three musicians familiar to In The Red listeners: singer-guitarist Mick Collins, front man of the seminal Detroit-bred garage units the Dirtbombs and the Gories, singer-guitarist Kid Congo Powers who played in such legendary bands as the Gun Club, the Cramps, and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and drummer-vocalist Bob Bert, whose skin work has distinguished albums by Sonic Youth, Pussy Galore, Lydia Lunch’s Retrovirus, and Jon Spencer and the HITmakers. The group was founded as a studio project by three musicians who are kept busy by their primary bands. Blue Gene Stew was written and recorded quickly. Powers says, “I think that the new record was much more a group effort. I think there’s more of a group kind of sound, as eclectic as it is. I feel like we all played together, as opposed to playing on each other’s songs.” Bert notes that the band’s music is grounded in spontaneity: “Me and Mick went in and had a couple of rehearsals, and I would come up with a beat, he would come up with a riff. I still have a cassette Walkman, believe it or not, and we’d put it down on that. It wasn’t even a full song. We’d just put down a bunch of ideas. When it came to recording we’d lay down the basic tracks and work out different things, and a lot of it was made up on the spot. It really is a great collaboration.” Recorded and engineered by Mark C. of Live Skull at his studio, Summer Forever And Ever finds Powers playing piano and the Kaoss touch-pad effects unit and Collins playing synthesizer, in addition to their usual instruments. The album reflects the same eclectic mix of musical styles heard on the debut. References and sometimes even direct quotes from sources as diverse as the Andrea True Connection, Captain Beefheart, the Count Five, and Eurythmics leap out of the speakers.

Swing Family's Music Force is dramatic mid-80s synth-funk. From the maverick mind of Sauveur Mallia, it's a thrilling and uniquely brilliant album from start to finish. It's undoubtedly known and revered for its unbelievable standout track, "Mission Africa". Those that know, know. And if you don't know, get to know. It's the reason this record has been hugely sought-after for the best part of two decades. Originally released on Tele Music in France in 1985 but now tear-inducingly rare, this is the definition of "a welcome reissue."

Swing Family is basically a supergroup of French Funk royalty. Led by French disco lord and Arpadys maestro Sauveur Mallia, they were augmented by trombonist Alex Perdigon from legendary French funk rock collective Godchild, trumpeter Kako Bessot from funky fusion group Synthesis and saxophonist Pierre Holassian, a member of Giant, Janko Nilovic's French jazz orchestra. So, about as heavyweight as it gets for funky French goodness. Mallia handles, of course, bass duties throughout, as well as utilising his arsenal of synths including his E-mu, Yamaha Dx7, Roland MSQ 700, Mini Moog and Oberheimm.

The maximalist disco fusion of "Exorcistor" is perhaps a bit too 80s French cheese for most tastes, so either linger on its singular style or head straight to the soundtracky typo-funk of "Greewich Boulevard". A deep, swaggering powerhouse, it comes on like mid-80s Chic jamming on the set of Beverly Hills Cop with Kashif. Yes, *that* good. It's followed by the vital "Music Force", a synthy, sleazy instrumental full of sax and flute and those 80s drum fills. Just the right side of acceptable.

OR! You can even choose to forget all the rest and just stick "Mission Africa" straight on. A rumbling, strutting, afro-cosmic low-profile banger. The slick drums hit hard, the synth strings warm things up, overlapping horns add swagger whilst electric guitar flourishes and a chanted refrain sit in the mix quite perfectly. A track that's almost impossible to describe and do justice to. You just need to hear it. Preferably as you saunter into your favourite after-hours club, after spotting all your friends at once, as you cut a swathe to the bubbling dance floor. A track quite like no other, it makes you sit up within its first bars and, to us at least, sound like something you'd have heard on a Print Thomas mix from the mid 00s. Basically, it's cosmo-galactic.

The B Side opens with "Musical Stars", an oh-so-80s funk-lite track which, at times, sounds like something Daft Punk may have left on the cutting room floor during their Discovery sessions. Another unimpeachable favourite of ours is the druggy brilliance of "Gentleman & Musician". You can almost hear the white powder through the speakers, as soaring, acidy synths, slick, heavy beats and the irresistible interplay of the primo horn players create a real sleazy wonder. "Film Action" follows, a galloping horn-heavy synth romp with moments of extreme bass breakdown brilliance before the drama-synths of "Episode Double" take things up another notch as it oscillates between gorgeous funky horns and urgent bleepy magic. Super tense, super funky and super stylish. Just ace. The elctro-tinged horn workout "Fatal Lady" closes things out majestically.

The audio for Music Force has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring the punch of Sauveur's bass and those sick drums come through to the fullest. Pete Norman’s expert skills has made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original and iconic sleeve - complete with perky Liberty Belle - has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Since its beginnings, Hypnótica Colectiva has always shown a special interest in the music recorded and released in the city of Detroit.

A place with which we have both a blood and spiritual bond because of what occurred there socially and artistically during the 20th century.

This love led us to become ambassadors of what was happening there on a musical level, holding cultural events to screen documentaries translated into Spanish, as well as a number of themed sets at our events, dedicated motor city sections in our record shop or recently lectures on the history of the city and its music at the Museum of Illustration and Contemporary Art of Valencia (Muvim).

The time has now come to bring all this history, this musical influence, to the editorial section of our label HC records.

Detroit Legacy was born from the idea of capturing these influences on vinyl. Seeking artists from all over the world who share this passion that inspires them to create their music, what we can define as the universal Neo-Detroit.

For this first edition or first volume, the collective has enlisted in its ranks creators affiliated to the label who have shown us in their careers, this influence and this feeling.

Paul Cignol opens the record with Distance. From Dublin he offers us a track of warm sequences inspired by Deep Techno, with deep pads responding to organ keys and a subtle touch of 303.

Mallorcan LLuis Barcelo Sureda is responsible for the second track Funk Station. With a Techno Soul character that we might hear from Detroitish labels like Acacia or producers like Blake Baxter.

A real eminence in Techno is the Catalan Don Alex Martín, who already released in the mid-90s on Monssieur Garnier's label (France Communications). The Barcelona native brings his wealth of experience and wisdom through Megatech, which transports us to the spectrum of Derrick May’s Transmat who, in his day, was nicknamed "The Innovator". This track provides agile sequences of complex syncopated rhythms, combining with a dreamy Michigan style synth.

The anthem of the album comes from Ghent. The sublime Belgian creator, Mariska Neerman, once again makes our hairs stand on end and our hearts melt with a heavenly composition entitled Stellium.

No one interprets Neo-Detroit quite like Mariska, whom we baptise as a sovereign heiress of the genre in the world. If we have to think of an influence for this piece, we go straight to the genius of Detroit, the one and only Jeff Mills, in his most symphonic and harmonic facet of tracks released on his label Axis Records such as "The March", A Universal Voice That Speaks To All That Will Listen or A New Found Sense Of Being.

Some of these songs have been re-interpreted by world class philharmonic orchestras such as the Montpellier Philharmonic Orchestra at the 2005 Blue Potential (Pont Du Garde). Mariska's score in this song fuses organ keys with harmonic layers and violin - favourite instruments of the Detroitian extraterrestrial - with a harmonic result of strength and hope. An authentic anthem of classic emotional Techno.

Old School electro takes centre stage with the Master from Terrassa Ivan Arnau a.k.a. Dark Vektor. In the influence of Juan Atkins (the creator) as Cybotron or Model 500 and later creators who developed this sound like Aux 88. Metaverso Frik is a great recital of a urban poetry created and interpreted by Ivan, to completely devastating effect.

Croatian Bojan Jascur a.k.a. N-TER, closes the vinyl with We Will Emerge, in a exercise of vindication, a common weapon in the context of Detroit music. Raging, trippy electro in the purest style of Cosmic Force or Dynarec.

This first tribute to 8 Mile doesn't end with the vinyl, as 2 digital bonus tracks are included in the release.

We return to Barcelona with Pastin Futon in another sequence of consecutive oscillated rhythms oscillated much like Kevin Saunderson (The Elevator) in his day and the Techno Groove that we know today.

The most robotic touch of the release is the closer with this synthetic jigsaw puzzle of a track with echoes of the 1967 Detroit Riot, the Detroit Rebellion. Again produced by another Barcelona native, The Bandit (Dj Spy / Util Records). The sequences are very reminiscent of Arpanet and Drexciya.

The idea for the cover comes from Motor City itself by Jon Yowell, first cousin of HC records founder and head of HC records David Verdeguer.

Born, raised and a lifelong resident of Detroit, Jon is an enormously talented musician capable of writing lyrics, performing them on the mic and manipulating a number of stringed instruments as well as the drums, where he is a true master.

The cover is a tribute to the formative backgrounds of many of the city's musicians in every sonic trend. Wayne State University in the capital of Michigan.

Founded in 1868, it has offered didactic teaching to many of the city's musicians.

Not all of Detroit's creators went to university, and even less so when talking about Techno, many artists are self-taught or learned in a non-academic way, but it seems to us a good base to begin to highlight the origins of the city's music in a historic building, where those who have the opportunity to learn about music have been and continue to be educated.

The adapted designs are the work of our image manager Dani Requeni.

Mastering by Steve Voidloss at Black Monolith Studios in London (UK).

lack Marble Vinyl! High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before.

Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me.

It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

There's no denying the power of the drum. It's primal, it cuts across borders and most importantly, it makes you want to move. Ghetto Kumbé don't just understand that_they celebrate it, and it's why the tambor was at the heart of the Bogotá-based trio's 2020 self-titled debut album. Rooted in mysticism and the Afro-Caribbean rhythms they'd grown up with all their lives, the critically acclaimed LP thrillingly updated the traditional Latin template, folding in elements of modern hip-hop, house and bass music while also delivering a transportive Afro-futurist vision. On Clubbing Remixes, that vision has been further amplified, as Ghetto Kumbé_who were already one of Colombia's most prominent alternative acts_have now gone fully global; enlisting an all-star roster of artists from four different continents, they've put together a fresh version of their debut album that's been specifically geared to the world's diverse slate of dancefloors. As the title implies, the new LP is meant for the club, which is why Ghetto Kumbé have turned to Latin music heavyweights like Trooko_a multiple Grammy winner whose resume includes work with Lin-Manuel Miranda and Residente_and Monte (a.k.a. Bomba Estéreo founder Simón Mejía), along with top-shelf DJs like Nickodemus and Uproot Andy, two NYC artists who've spent decades championing Afro-Latin rhythms. True to the LP's global spirit, the record also includes reworks from batida maestro DJ Firmeza, fellow Afro-Portuguese outfit Studio Bros and Parisian house groovers Les Enfants Sauvages, plus genre-blurring remixes from sonically adventurous Colombians Montoya (himself another ZZK artist) and Cero39. Even the artwork on Clubbing Remixes is a remix, as Ghetto Kumbé have tapped Uganda's Denzel Muhumuza to transform the cover of their debut album into a new, explicitly Afro-futuristic illustration. Depicting a strong Black face and glowing neon fauna beneath a sparkling moonlit sky, the fantastical image speaks to both the ritual magic and Afro-indebted heritage of Ghetto Kumbé's music, and thanks to Clubbing Remixes, the group's passionate, drum-fueled sounds will soon be blasting out of sound systems around the globe.

Elias Devoldere is the drummer in bands such as Nordmann, Hypochristmutreefuzz, Suwi, Robbing Millions, and John Ghost. Following an ep, Kaiku, released last summer, Bloomed > Exploded is his debut full length as a solo artist. Besides writing and singing, he composed, played, recorded, and produced the bulk of the ten songs himself. 'Everything blooms', he explains the title of his first album. 'Until it explodes, and something else is able to grow from it'. In this case, what came full cycle is an intimate coming-of-age album of intangible atmospherics, crisp melodies, and understated rhythmical patterns.

BLOOMED >

'As a kid, I just wanted to play football, you know?', says Elias. 'But when I was eight years old, my parents made me choose between drawing school and music school'. And thus began a dedication to rhythm for Elias. At 18, he enrolled at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in his hometown of Ghent, opting for a jazz education. 'Not because I aspired to become a master 'jazz drummer', but to learn music, to become a good musician'. It was at the academy that, after an impromptu jam session, Nordmann first came together. The exhilarating instrumental quartet went on to win second place at the prestigious Humo's Rock Rally in 2014, and released three albums to critical acclaim, with a new one in the works.

Devoldere, in the meantime, had completed his degree with a craving - ironically - for music. 'I was in over my head with jazz for such a long time, and went on an epic discovering spree. Moses Sumney, James Blake, Kendrick Lamar, Connan Mockasin... Lots of stuff I had missed over the years. In a way, I reconnected with the kind of music I was into before jazz dominated my life. Pink Floyd was my first love, for instance, and later Radiohead proved to be a game changer. Diving back into those kind of sounds, I was feeling the urge to follow my old dreams, of being a solo artist - or something more than 'just' a drummer, anyway. So I bought a guitar, an interface for my laptop, and started writing'.

EXPLODED

When he released his 5 track ep Kaiku in the summer of 2021, it summarised a lot of firsts for Elias. First time writing lyrics, first time as a lead vocalist, first time recording his own songs all by himself. The songs had been around for a while, but taking those leaps took a long time. 'Making the ep helped me to find my voice, in every way possible'. Still, in the aftermath of the pandemic, the songs on Bloomed > Exploded sprouted in a time of upheaval. 'Musically the album is quite serene, gentle even. But the themes speak of internal unrest and uncertainty. There are a lot of questions on the album, as it turned out. Duality, as the title suggests, coming from the struggle between a wish to turn everything upside down and a search for peace. Honestly: the prospect of my 30th birthday was messing with my head too'.

Recording during a period of solitude in France, Elias initially relied heavily on synthesizers and drum machines. 'Explode / Boalis was one of the first songs I wrote for this album, and pivotal for its atmosphere, based mostly on electronic elements. Later, I did use 'real' drums on most of the other songs, though, and contributions from other musicians, but the overall mood is very cohesive'. 'Pure', that's how Bruno Ellingham, the UK engineer who mixed the album, described it. Much to the delight of Elias, who reached out to Ellingham because of his previous work with bands such as Massive Attack and Portishead. 'Hearing the end result, I thought he really captured the essence of the original demo's. For me, that adds to this album being a sincere reflection of my true self. 'Take a dive/ Into the place where it's more quiet', as I sing in the last song, that kind of sums it up for me'.

Ground Groove, the third full-length release from the LA-based, Iranian-American producer and DJ, Maral, begins with an invocation: the sprawling, achingly heavy Feedback Jam opens the floodgates of history. Conventional (linear) spacetime collapses, crushed beneath the track’s lumbering 4/4 heartbeat and successive waves of distortion. As each wave recedes, samples trickle forward in the mix — seeking, perhaps, to fill the void. Voices and instruments rise and fall in uncanny reverse. Overlapping, implied melodies flicker into focus, then flit away. Feedback Jam is at once an initiation ritual, and a thesis statement for the record that follows.

Drawing upon a vast personal archive of Iranian folk, classical, and pop recordings (some sourced from mixtapes made by her parents in the eighties/nineties), Maral presents, on Ground Groove, a further refinement of the signature “folk club” sound she developed as a live DJ— a sound she would later codify on Mahur Club (2019) and Push (2020). By collecting, dissecting, and re/presenting sonic fragments from Iran, Maral practices a kind of dance-floor ethnomusicology. The subject of her inquiry: Iranian


culture and contexts, throughout history and in the present. But, crucially, this inquiry is instantiated within and throughout the body of the listener, whether this listener is dancing in the club, or riding the train, nodding along with headphones on.

Maral speaks of being in collaboration with her samples, treating each as a distinct bandmate, often consulting with an artist’s catalog (or even a single recording) as one would a trusted creative partner. In so-doing, Maral claims to seek to transcend the self. In this regard, her output neatly triangulates contemporary dance and heavy music with much of the traditional religious music that she samples. Broadly speaking, each of these idioms addresses a desire —shared by audience and performer alike—to transcend the self through volume, repetition, and movement.

Having, in her youth, studied the Setar under Nader Majd (the founder of Virginia’s Center for Persian Classical Music), Maral cycled through various genres (ex: punk, emo, dub) in her adolescence and early twenties, all the while expanding her knowledge of, and appreciation for, Iran’s diverse musical traditions during regular summer trips to Tehran. In college, Maral taught herself to make beats with a ripped copy of Ableton (which remains her DAW of choice), eventually transitioning to playing and hosting various club nights. Forever abiding by an autodidactic, DIY impulse to create art and foster community, Maral relocated to Los Angeles in 2013, where she quickly immersed herself in the city’s numerous overlapping music scenes.

Collaboration (beyond sampling) has proven an important component of her process, with notable spoken word contributions from the likes of Lee Scratch Perry and Penny Rimbaud, as well as a 2021 Panda Bear collab track (On Your Way), which the Animal Collective founder co-produced. Maral is equally attentive to the visual components of her records (album art, music videos, etc.), drawing upon the work of peers and friends for inspiration.

Indeed, the genesis of Ground Groove can be traced back to an audio-visual collaboration between Maral and the artist Brenna Murphy, originally commissioned for the 2021 Rewire Festival — a project that would eventually serve as the album’s foundation. Tracks eight through eleven on Ground Groove comprise Maral’s half of this installation, with tracks one through seven composed afterwards, inspired by the fruits of Maral and Murphy’s collaboration. Murphy’s visuals will be released alongside Ground Groove as a visual accompaniment. Additionally, Murphy designed the album’s art, directed the video for the lead single (the aforementioned Feedback Jam), and is featured on track six, Shy Night.

Composed largely on Ableton, Ground Groove features more frequent and more prominent live recordings from Maral (guitar, bass, and vocals) than either Push or Mahar Club. The cult favorite Roland MC-909 groovebox rears its head on Mari’s Groove. Mixed by Trayer Tryon (Hundred Waters) and mastered by Daddy Kev, the attention to sonic quality on Ground Groove constitutes another significant step in Maral’s development as a studio artist.

Ground Groove’s eleven tracks are “grooves” in the obvious sense, in that they are each driven by a persistent, propulsive rhythm, but the album’s title may just as well suggest the glacial passage of time—the scope of human history, in which individual voices, like streams, carve paths (impossibly) through earth and stone, winding their way to the vast sea of the present.

Close to five years on from their last transmission, Ulrika Spacek resurface from self-imposed exile with their third album, Compact Trauma, a collection of songs that function as a chance treatise of sorts for our current collective condition. With a title like that arriving at this point in time, it's tempting to interpret the record solely in the context of the global events of the past few years, but the roots of these ten songs arc back much further in time, charged with their own personalised internal damage. Trauma, in its myriad forms, is often hard to qualify, even harder to rationalise. When something begins to go wrong, how do you gain perspective? What is a temporary roadblock, and what is unmitigated disaster? In its first phase of life, Compact Trauma was a document of a band striving to perfect an idea while the universe around them seemed to want to shut down. And then, at an impasse of sorts and with a record halfway complete, it suddenly did. If Ulrika Spacek were a band in need of the breaks applying, it was the force of a global pandemic that made it happen. As the world stood still, Compact Trauma was filed away, unfinished and unheard by the wider world, possibly to remain that way forever. And yet, there was to be a second act. If mutability is our tragedy, it's also our hope, clearer days slowly began to emerge as the bad slipped away. The wound, as the saying goes, is the place where the light enters you. The prolonged break enforced by myriad lockdowns may have separated the group but it also afforded the five time to reflect on what had already been committed to tape.. As the lights came back on and the shutters up, they found themselves drawn back towards Compact Trauma. What they rediscovered was a record that seemed to preempt the shared grief of a global pandemic. Even if the specifics were different, the themes were uncannily similar. Addressing existential freak out, displacement, substance reliance and encroaching self-doubt, these highly personalised songs suddenly took on a wider significance, speaking in part to a bigger narrative. They could have left it alone, but in coming back to what they knew, Ulrika Spacek found their best work yet. RIYL: Mercury Rev, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Radiohead, Deerhunter, Atlas Sound, Stereolab.

Gondwana Records announces 'Goodbyes' the debut album from Estonian pianist and composer, Hanakiv, a deeply beautiful, meditative piano album featuring special guest Alabaster dePlume

"This is an album about healing. It is about saying your goodbyes to everything that doesn't serve you anymore. Each of these songs has a little goodbye in it. So, these are very beautiful and necessary goodbyes".

Hanakiv is a young composer and musician from Estonia (now based in London) who creates meditative piano-based ambient music with elements from classical and electronic music. 'Goodbyes' is her debut recording and draws on influences as diverse as Tim Hecker, Björk "Vespertine", Kara-Lis Coverdale, Arvo Pärt, Erkki-Sven Tüür and Aphex Twin as well as her own cultural heritage. Music has an important part in Estonian culture, especially choir music and its traditions, but Hanakiv also draws on her love of nature – the beautiful Estonian seaside and forests - and on her time in Iceland. However, it was moving to London that gave her the freedom to make her own music: "London gave me the freedom and courage to really be who I am (as a person and musically)" and her heritage and her new home both offer inspiration to Goodbyes, as Hanakiv moves between these two opposite places, a bustling metropolis and a small country full of nature, drawing inspiration from both as she sculpts her own voice.

Hanakiv had an unconventional music education – she started studying music at a school for handbells when she was nine and was part of a handbell ensemble for eight years. Starting on piano at the same time she went on to study composition at high school, and later at the Estonian Academy of Music. Eventually switching to electroacoustic composition, she studied in Reykjavik, and did internships in Malmö, and again Reykjavik before moving to London. She grew up in a musical family and her grandmother was a piano teacher and choir conductor.

"I would always ask her to take me to her choir rehearsals. I remember sitting under the grand piano, listening to the choir and just being mesmerised by the sounds. She also teaches in a local music school in the south of Estonia with about ten pianos, and I'd spend a lot of time there as well. I believe this was the starting point for me to get to where I am now. The last two pieces on the album (Home II and Home I) are composed in this same music school, so it feels like a full circle.

An early influence was Regina Spektor "the first artist who made me really want to play piano" alongside dream pop and Sigur Rós' as well as Estonian contemporary composers such as Erkki-Sven Tüür and Arvo Pärt. Later her studies took her to Reykjavík: "There is this amazing record shop called 12 Tónar in Reykjavik where you can drink espressos and listen to all their vinyls. I spent quite a lot of time there. There is something about Icelandic music that really excited me (the mixture of contemporary electronic sounds with melancholy, emotionality). This is when I started getting more into electronic music, and experimenting outside of classical music". Following a year long break from studying and inspired by making an electroacoustic soundtrack for a friend's abstract video, she was inspired to complete a masters in electroacoustic composition, diving fully into the worlds of sound recording and mixing and focusing on surround sound and how to position and move sounds in space, eventually doing an internship with composer Kent Olofson in Malmö, who works with multi-speaker systems for theatre productions. "I learnt a lot from him and he introduced me to some of my favourite plugins I've used a lot on this album as well."

Hanakiv moved to London just as the pandemic hit and found herself trapped, in a big new city, without any network or family and so just concentrated on making music. "I stayed in my room with my basic equipment - keyboard, Korg minilogue, SM 58 and Rode nt1-a microphones, laptop and speakers. I was reading about mixing, and trying out different things and listening to a lot of music to get the sense of the mixes and production and finishing a commission piece for 5.1 multi speaker system at that time so I set up four speakers for quadrophonic surround sound in my room!". She also found her way back to piano - my instrument – and started practicing again, playing the pieces she used to play, but also just improvising, and this was the beginning of what would become her debut album, 'Goodbyes'.

"I started appreciating everything about music again (even melody!), and everything just came together naturally, and I arrived to a point where I finally found my voice, and I had something that I wanted to say and share. I composed "Meditation I" first and started with "Goodbye", and all the other pieces are derived from that. Without "Meditation I" there wouldn't be this album. If you listen closely, "Meditation I" starts where "Goodbye" ends; "Meditation II" is born from "Meditation I".

But it was meeting Fi Roberts, a sound engineer based at the legendary Strongrom Studios in Shoreditch, London in December 2020 that really brought the album into focus. The pair bonded over an interest in prepared piano and a similar approach to production ideas (a balance of not overdoing it, and letting the songs speak for themselves, but being open to explore) and Fi became a friend but also a confidant and eventually co-producer

"Fi has a big impact on this record but I don't know how to really explain that properly. Of course, this album is sonically stunning thanks to her amazing mixes and recording skills, but she also believed in this music so much and it created something very special - that's difficult to measure with words. She just works with heart, and I really appreciate that"

This then is 'Goodbyes', the first offering from a major new voice, who offers us a meditative work full of space and tranquillity but also life and friendship and meaning. And we are very proud to welcome her to the Gondwana family.

Electronic music legend and head of Editions Mego, Peter Rehberg, teams up with zeitkratzer mastermind Reinhold Friedl. 3 side-long pieces melting electronic / contemporary avantgarde. Uncompromising.

When Peter "Pita" Rehberg and Reinhold Friedl first met each other, they did not like each other "at all," as Friedl emphasises with a hearty laugh. The two would however eventually bond over the years thanks to a mutual respect for each other's music. In the summer of 2021, they entered the studio together for the first time. Their joint album for Berlin's Karlrecords is a faithful document—no editing, no overdubs—of their improvisations during two recording sessions shortly before Rehberg's sudden and untimely passing on July 22nd of that year. The three pieces see Rehberg working with electronics and Friedl with his inside piano, proving that they had indeed managed to find a common ground—up to a point where it at times becomes hard to tell who plays what on this record.

Friedl ran into Rehberg in Zbigniew Karkowski's tiny Tokyo apartment in 1999 while organising the first edition of the Off-ICMC that was set to take place in the following year. "I came uninvited and slept a night at Zbigeniew's before Peter arrived and I had to move out," remembers Friedl, who ended up inviting the Mego founder to perform at the Off-ICMC even though he found it hard to relate to his music. "We had very different backgrounds: he came from industrial and I had roots in classical music and improv, a high-brow prick!" After having met several times at different concerts without ever really speaking to each other in the following years, a concert in Vienna in the late 2010s marked a turning point in their relationship (or lack thereof). Playing their sets back to back and loving every second of what the other was doing, the two finally clicked on musical level. "We met for dinner on each of the three following nights!," remembers Friedl.

The two would go on to become good friends, meeting regularly to discuss music and everything else while both were living in Vienna just a few minutes away from each other. Rehberg put out Friedl's collaboration with Eryck Abecassis, "Animal Électrique" on his Editions Mego label in 2020 and eventually they entered the studio twice for sessions that were completely improvised with no prior preparation. "Caciara," "Chiasso," and "Clamore"—named retrospectively after three Italian words for "noise"—capture the spontaneity of two artists who had always been outliers in their respective fields finding a common ground in sprawling dynamics and sonic intensity as well as enabling each other to expand their individual sound palettes. "Peter gave me cover," explains Friedl. "I had the feeling that I was able to do things I otherwise wouldn't play."