quête:everyday dust

"Queen Of Nowhere" is the result of the photographic works by Kourtney Roy and the musician Dayve Samek (Trance Farmers) initiated by IIKKI, between November 2021 and March 2022.

The man behind the name Trance Farmers is Dayve Samek, a wanderer from Los Angeles to Louisiana, and his music has picked up just about every influence it can along the way. He has recorded his first album in 2014 on Leaving Records (Stones Throw Records). Not sure how to classify his music ranges, but something between sweaty, garage-born ballads brush shoulders with drifter anthems and gasoline drenched doo wop with at some points some beats close from the past Anticon works should make the point.

The Canadian photographer Kourtney Roy was born in Northern Ontario in 1981. Intrigued by the possibility of creating a tragic mythology of the self, she conjures an intimate universe pervaded by both wonder and mystery. Her photographer’s eye is drawn to places and settings whose lyrical qualities underscore the sublime banality of everyday life.

Roy’s studies in photography, at Emily Carr University of Art and Design in Vancouver and later at the Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris, inspired her to develop her finicky aesthetic, which lends itself particularly well to both glossy paper and film. Roy works extensively as an independent photographer/filmmaker in the art world. Instilled with a dark sense of humor, taking their clues as much from the grotesque nature of seemingly placid settings as from the tensions simmering just under the surface, her photographs have garnered many prizes, including the Prix Picto in 2007, The Emily Award in Canada in 2012 and the Prix Carte Blanche PMU/Le Bal in 2013 and the Pernod Ricard Carte Blanche in 2018.

Repress

To emerge from a global pandemic with a renewed sense of situational awareness, hard won insight, and a new album is the kind of move we've come to expect from THRICE over the last twenty years. With Horizons/East, Dustin Kensrue and his bandmates address, with candor and courage, the fragile and awkward arrangements that pass for civilization, while inviting us to dwell more knowingly within our own lives. Without surrendering any of the energy and hard edge of their previous albums, they've given us a profoundly meditative work which serves as a musical summons to everyday attentiveness. Since forming THRICE with guitarist Teppei Teranishi, bassist Eddie Breckenridge, and drummer Riley Breckenridge in 1998, Kensrue has never been one to back down from a mental fight. This mood is set by the opening synth-driven number "Color of the Sky," which sounds well-suited to accompany the closing credits of the Stranger Things season finale. Think Flying Lotus giving way to Elbow and setting the listener down in a new dimension. A self-recorded effort, Horizons/East conveys a palpable sense of danger, determination, and possibility.

To emerge from a global pandemic with a renewed sense of situational awareness, hard won insight, and a new album is the kind of move we've come to expect from THRICE over the last twenty years

With Horizons/East, Dustin Kensrue and his bandmates address, with candor and courage, the fragile and awkward arrangements that pass for civilization, while inviting us to dwell more knowingly within our own lives. Without surrendering any of the energy and hard edge of their previous albums, they've given us a profoundly meditative work which serves as a musical summons to everyday attentiveness.Since forming THRICE with guitarist Teppei Teranishi, bassist Eddie Breckenridge, and drummer Riley Breckenridge in 1998, Kensrue has never been one to back down from a mental fight. This mood is set by the opening synthdriven number "Color of the Sky," which sounds well- suited to accompany the closing credits of the Stranger Things season finale. Think Flying Lotus giving way to Elbow and setting the listener down in a new dimension. A self-recorded effort, Horizons/ East conveys a palpable sense of danger, determination, and possibility.

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

To emerge from a global pandemic with a renewed sense of situational awareness, hard won insight, and a new album is the kind of move we've come to expect from THRICE over the last twenty years. With Horizons/East, Dustin Kensrue and his bandmates address, with candor and courage, the fragile and awkward arrangements that pass for civilization, while inviting us to dwell more knowingly within our own lives. Without surrendering any of the energy and hard edge of their previous albums, they've given us a profoundly meditative work which serves as a musical summons to everyday attentiveness. Since forming THRICE with guitarist Teppei Teranishi, bassist Eddie Breckenridge, and drummer Riley Breckenridge in 1998, Kensrue has never been one to back down from a mental fight. This mood is set by the opening synth-driven number "Color of the Sky," which sounds well-suited to accompany the closing credits of the Stranger Things season finale. Think Flying Lotus giving way to Elbow and setting the listener down in a new dimension. A self-recorded effort, Horizons/East conveys a palpable sense of danger, determination, and possibility.

LP pressed exclusively for National Album Day 2021 on gold vinyl in
single-pocket jacket with custom dust sleeve and digital download
coupon.
 Through ‘Titanic Rising’, Weyes Blood, aka Natalie Mering, has
designed her own universe to soulfully navigate life’s mysteries.
Manoeuvring through a space time continuum, she plays the role of
melodic, sometimes melancholic, anthropologist.
 Tellingly, Mering classifies ‘Titanic Rising’ - written and recorded during
the first half of 2018, after three albums and years of touring - as The
Kinks meeting WWII or Bob Seger meets Enya. The latter captures the
album’s wilful expansiveness (“You can tell there’s not a guy pulling the
strings in Enya’s studio,” she notes, admiringly). The former relays her
imperative to connect with listeners. “The clarity of Bob Seger is
unmistakable. I’m a big fan of conversational songwriting,” she adds. “I
just try to do that in a way that uses abstract imagery as well.”
 The Weyes Blood frontwoman grew up singing in gospel and madrigal
choirs. (Listen closely to ‘Titanic Rising’ and you’ll also hear the jazz of
Hoagy Carmichael mingle with the artful mysticism of Alejandro
Jodorowsky and the monomyth of scholar Joseph Campbell.)
‘Something To Believe’, a confessional that makes judicious use of the
slide guitar, touches on that cosmological upbringing. “Belief is
something all humans need. Shared myths are part of our psychology
and survival,” she says. “Now we have a weird mishmash of capitalism
and movies and science. There have been moments where I felt very
existential and lost.”
 As a kid, she filled that void with ‘Titanic’. (Yes, the movie.) “It was
engineered for little girls and had its own mythology,” she explains.
Mering also noticed that the blockbuster romance actually offered a story
about loss born of man’s hubris. “It’s so symbolic that The Titanic would
crash into an iceberg, and now that iceberg is melting, sinking
civilization.” Today, this hubris also extends to the relentless adoption of
technology, at the expense of both happiness and attention spans.
 But Weyes Blood isn’t one to stew. Her observations play out in an
ethereal saunter: far more meditative than cynical. To Mering, listening
and thinking are concurrent experiences. “There are complicated
influences mixed in with more relatable nostalgic melodies,” she says.
“In my mind my music feels so big, a true production. I’m not a huge,
popular artist, but I feel like one when I’m in the studio. But it’s never
taking away from the music. I’m just making a bigger space for myself.”

Die Footwork Legende aus Chicago, DJ RASHAD, beschließt ein erfolgreiches Jahr auf Hyperdub mit seinem ersten Album für das Label und baut damit auf zwei EPs auf, die deutlich demonstriert haben, wie sich der Sound von ihm und seinen mannigfaltigen Teklife Kollaborateuren im Jahr 2013 entwickelt hatte. Benannt nach dem Freizeitcocktail aus Sprite und Kodein treffen auf ,Double Cup" traditionelle 808 Footwork Ausbrüche auf die neuesten Mutationen des Sounds und zeigen so die Vielseitigkeit und Kraft der Chicago Szene im Jahr 2013. Das Album wirft Hip Hop, R&B, Acid, House, Techno und Jungle in seinen Footwork Shredder und spuckt diese auf der anderen Seite als zusammengeklebte Fragmente wieder aus, zusammengehalten durch schnurrende 808 Subtriplets und kantige Polyrhythmen. Das Album wärmt sich langsam mit einem G-Funk Swing auf, der typisch ist für RASHAD und SPINNs Kollaborationen mit TASO aus San Francisco. Diven mit Schluckauf räkeln sich auf den Rhythmen von ,Show U How", ,Only One" und ,Everyday Of My Life" mit Raps von der Crew auf ,Pass That Shit", ,She A Go" und ,Kush, Drank, Barz". Das bereits veröffentlichte "I Don't Give A Fuck" markiert den düsteren Dreh- und Angelpunkt des Albums; das Tempo zieht in der zweiten Hälfte an mit dem treibenden Viervierteltakt des Titeltracks ,Double Cup", dem donnernd gepressten ,Acid Bit" und dem Chicago House von ,Reggie" und ,Leavin. Den Höhepunkt markiert die Breakbeat Wissenschaft von ,Let U No" und ,I'm Too Hi". ,Double Cup" ist vorausschauende Musik für die Tanzfläche und unterstreicht, dass Footwork an der Macht ist.

Entitled ‘My Heart Is Hungry And The Days Go By So Quickly’ Danish singer and songwriter Jacob Bellens presents his fifth solo album. Thanks to his unique voice and his talent for heartfelt melodies, over the years Jacob, also known as frontman of I Got You On Tape and Murder, has become one of the most distinctive figures on the Scandinavian music scene. Slightly darker in tone than its predecessors ‘Trail Of Intuition’ (2018) or ‘Polyester Skin’ (2016), the new album lets us see the world through Jacob’s eyes.
Somewhere between left-field pop and a classical singer/songwriter approach, the songs were recorded in two sessions with producer Mads Brinch, drummer Tobias Laust, bass player Jonas Westergaard, keyboardist Malthe Rostrup and guitarist Tobias Fuglsang. “So many good friends and amazing instrumentalists have contributed to the sound“, explained Jacob. “And mostly, people were playing what they felt the song needed, which was an incredibly inspiring way of just letting the process develop naturally, and take on a life of its own.” As such, the recordings give off a distinct light-footed and organic feel. Rich in metaphors, the lyrics deal with personal perceptions based on everyday life occurrences that at the same time hint at the meaning of life in general - or at least suggest a higher perspective. The sonical expression is timeless but also modernistic and the lyrical point of view is refreshingly diverse, never just black or white. The sad songs have uplifting, often surreal qualities, and the lighter, uptempo songs also invite to a certain darkness. A flower basket full of difficult emotions, sprinkled with magical fairy dust that somehow makes everything worthwhile.

Third outing on Funclab Records, a dime bag of tunes that blends Hip- Hop and House while maintaining the same unpolished and crusty sound.

Debut solo album from the psychedelic visionary and founder of the legendary Ozric Tentacles.

A visionary, a prodigal symphonist, one of the UK's leading influential musicians: Ed Wynne is undoubtedly a gifted instrumentalist. He is credited as one of the

linchpins of the UK festival scene's re-emergence along with his band Ozric Tentacles, who formed at Stonehenge Free Festival 1983 and became staples of the Glastonbury Festival, with their most recent performance at Glastonbury

in 2016 on the Glade stage. With an incredible flair for creating masterful tapestries of sound, and for having sold over a million records worldwide, Ed Wynne's debut solo album on

Kscope will be quick to take a hold on fans of psychedelic synth and rock music. 'Shimmer into Nature' was recorded and inspired by the different locations Ed Wynne travelled to over three years, from deep in the Colorado Mountains,

to the coastlines of Cornwall and South Devon, before being completed on Scotland's East Coast by the Firth of Forth. 'The idea is to transport the listener to a place where the everyday ups

and downs of the world dissipate, leaving the mind free to wander through a colourful, omnidirectional guitar and synth driven musical landscape for a while, landing eventually, hopefully freshly charged, with a smile and a calmer spirit.'

The music was written, programmed, mixed and performed by Ed, with mastering by Adam Goodlet at Re:Creation studios, with artwork designed by prolific English psychedelic illustrator John Hurford.

A great strong man with a brush in his hand once said: everything you can imagine is real and art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. So is making music just another form of keeping a diary In terms of Ana Helder, the Argentinian girl with the special twist, the answer is: maybe. More than two years after her last release on Cómeme she is back with a hand full of tracks. Five to be precise. She got more, but this is what the Müstique's received. They are mean, dirty, harmful, amorevolous, seductive and addictive. Surrender tunes from a producer and DJ that does not think in boxes. Her three Eps 'El Groove De Tu Corazón', 'Fiebre De Marte' and 'Beating PC' mark some warped grooving heights in the edgy catalogue of Matias Aguayo's label Cómeme. Also on the French label Astro Lab she already dropped the 12inch 'Soy Canalla' with a playful psyche tune, that additionally got remixed by folks like Les Disques De La Mort seducer Ivan Smagghe or the mysterious West-German ghost-(w)rid(t)er Frank West. Furthermore, she re-tuned tunes from Chilean friends like Alejandro Paz or Mamacita and sang on songs of colleagues. For Müstique she now looked into her always-growing production crate and found some post-punk waving funk odes, which want more than just to dance this mess around. They bring soulful LSD-melodies for Jazz lovers with techno legs that like to get high on Liquid Liquid. They are electronic but yet so organic. And they move deeply while spreading the feel of a meditative rest. When Diagnose heard them first, he came to the idea of writing a script for a flick that tells the story of a music-making machine, which has more to offer than answers. It forms sound with no traces of reality, but is so human that humans fear it. Why did he think that way Only because of what Ana Helder recently got to say Well, let the music play...

A great strong man with a brush in his hand once said: everything you can imagine is real and art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. So is making music just another form of keeping a diary In terms of Ana Helder, the Argentinian girl with the special twist, the answer is: maybe. More than two years after her last release on Co´meme she is back with a hand full of tracks. Five to be precise. She got more, but this is what the Mu¨stique's received. They are mean, dirty, harmful, amorevolous, seductive and addictive. Surrender tunes from a producer and DJ that does not think in boxes. Her three Eps El Groove De Tu Corazo´n', Fiebre De Marte' and Beating PC' mark some warped grooving heights in the edgy catalogue of Matias Aguayo's label Co´meme. Also on the French label Astro Lab she already dropped the 12inch Soy Canalla' with a playful psyche tune, that additionally got remixed by folks like Les Disques De La Mort seducer Ivan Smagghe or the mysterious West-German ghost-(w)rid(t)er Frank West. Furthermore, she re-tuned tunes from Chilean friends like Alejandro Paz or Mama- cita and sang on songs of colleagues. For Mu¨stique she now looked into her always-growing production crate and found some post-punk waving funk odes, which want more than just to dance this mess around. They bring soulful LSD-melodies for Jazz lovers with techno legs that like to get high on Liquid Liquid. They are electronic but yet so organic. And they move deeply while spreading the feel of a meditative rest. When Diagnose heard them first, he came to the idea of writing a script for a flick that tells the story of a music-making machine, which has more to offer than answers. It forms sound with no traces of reality, but is so human that humans fear it. Why did he think that way Only because of what Ana Helder recently got to say Well, let the music play...