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Cabaret Voltaire’s ‘The Covenant, The Sword and The Arm of The Lord’, as originally remastered in 2013, now reissued on White vinyl. Known for being the harder, more experimental album of their “Pop” period, ‘The Covenant, The Sword and The Arm of The Lord’ was originally released in 1985 and includes the classic ‘I Want You’. The album embodys Cabaret Voltaire’s industrial electro-funk sound and their punk ethos.

Cabaret Voltaire were very much ahead of their time, harmonising dance music, techno, dub, house and experimental electronics, making them, without a doubt, one of the most influential acts in electronic music.

“...The Covenant, the Sword and the Arm of the Lord is an exercise in paranoia with anxiety coded into the jittery sample-heavy structures of the music itself.” - Spectrum Culture

Swedish duo Thunder Tillman come together again in healing harmony to produce a much needed LP for troubled times. Thunder and his life coach Pony bring their spirits in sync for 40 minutes of improvised soundtracks for mental and physical wellbeing.

Recorded on Stockholm’s Wind Island, the pair have carefully selected specimens from their collection of vintage musical paraphernalia to channel these specific vibrations for maximum healing power.

Side one is a gentle wake up call for the soul, with pipes and chimes that gently give way to mind-expanding synths and feedback echoes that sound like sun glistening off a mountain river. Those sounds lead into an electric piano and life affirming synth figure, before disintegrating into santoor strings and chants with a slight Indian flavor. It’s a cosmic combination that invites relaxation and meditation, and the kind of deep breathing exercises that could turn back the clock on a host of bodily ailments. An electric piano comes back to the foreground with a bass and synth combination that drives forward with healing hands, before parting the frequencies for ear-tickling pads and voices. Rounding out the side is a chiming synth and santoor figure that brings the wandering spirit home and to rest.

Side two starts up with Cosmic Osmosis - a motorik drum machine beat and bass line that briefly brings to mind some of their more krautrock inspired modes across their three previous Eps, but soon collapses back into visceral synth twinkles and relaxing washes of analogue tones. It’s a dynamic that drives the whole record, sounds that excite the soul perhaps even the body on an atomic level, before bringing that energy down to a calming, relaxing home. There’s a craftsmanship to their synthesized tones that goes beyond mere artistry, and the interplay between sounds and frequencies is especially inspired, to the point where the music practically sparkles out of the speakers. Side two closes out with harmonic chimes that could put you on a Himalayan mountain side, and succeeds in raising the spirit, mind and body to higher plains of cosmic consciousness.

The Aural Healing Program is accompanied by a 40 minutes Visual Healing Program that will be unveiled in conjunction with the vinyl release. The first visual healing session featuring side B opener Cosmic Osmosis, is already available for all to partake. So just relax, let go and let the frequencies guide you.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Dalibert who hides badly behind the simplicity of facade of these eight pieces all the rare elegance which emerges from this set. The pianist goes well beyond the codes of the genre, certainly one will think sometimes of harold bad of avalon sutra to philipp glass of metamorphosis but Melaine Dalibert, by his singularity and his clairvoyance, reminds us that the music is nothing more than an arithmetic of the sensitivity, an addition of the possible ones. His fifth album "Shimmering" recently enriched the Mind Travels collection of the label Ici d'Ailleurs, but the magnetic mantras, that French pianist Melaine Dalibert forges on his appreciated concerts, already attracted many lovers of contemporary piano minimalism, due to the way by which this composer manages to integrate an algorithmic approach to composition with popular motifs and influence. His alloy of personalistic flow and technical skills is so strong that even what sounded like pure exercises, such as "Six+Six", one of the more interesting compositions (dedicated to David Sylvian), can titillate listener's soul. These eight haunting, wordless pop songs, snapshots of a melancholy mood, owe as much to Morton Feldman or Philip Glass as to Ryuichi Sakamoto or Peter Broderick. They nonetheless reveal a highly singular musical personality. These eight new white pebbles extend the fascinating journey of an artist who, if the title of his very beautiful record is to be believed, loves nothing more than to illuminate the path.

REMASTERED

Grönland Records announce a revised, remastered reissue of “Sleepwalkers” by DAVID SYLVIAN. Available as a gatefold 2LP with exclusive art print and as a gatefold digipack CD, this new edition also features the previously unreleased track “Modern Interiors”.

in the 00s, DAVID SYLVIAN produced two of his strongest and most solitary statements, BLEMISH and MANAFON. but those records don’t tell the whole story. during that the same period, SYLVIAN created an alternate body of work: a series of collaborations and side projects with leading talents of pop and improv, electronic and contemporary classical music. the best of these recordings are gathered here on SLEEPWALKERS, meticulously sequenced and remixed: the fruits of one-off meetings and lifelong partnerships, they jump from bliss to intrigue, romance to sensuality, as arch experiments lead into the lushest pop.

the single ‘world citizen – i won’t be disappointed,’ written with RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, is a sublime example, with an impeccable melody and lyric warmed by SYLVIAN’S gorgeous tenor. SYLVIAN has worked with SAKAMOTO for close to three decades. by contrast, on ‘pure genius,’ a collaboration with CHRIS VRENNA aka tweaker, he sounds like he’s walked into a heist flick, singing the part of a delusional, dangerous bedroom genius. as sylvian explains, tracks like this ‘give me a chance to write in a way that’s completely non-personal, playful. it’s an exercise of some kind, working within the parameters of a given assignment.’

intrigue of a different kind drives ‘sugarfuel,’ with music by JEAN-PHILIPPE VERDIN, aka READYMADE FC. the lyrics offered ‘an opportunity to grapple with a more overt sexual theme than anything i’d previously attempted, as suggested by a vocal sample in the original track provided, a threateningly insistent ‘i’m on your side.’ so i took that as my point of entry and ran with it. i would love to write more on this subject should i find the right context. you’re always aware of walking a thin line exploring sexuality with language alone. the failings of the great and the good are strewn all around.’

NINE HORSES’ ‘wonderful world’ strolls in on a black tie bassline and the echoing coos of swedish chanteuse STINA NORDENSTAM, whose high chirps brush hands with SYLVIAN’S lead; there’s the blistering ‘money for all’ by FRIEDMAN and SYLVIAN, an oblique response to the fallout of 9/11 and the war on iraq. this is followed by the last known recording of SYLVIAN’S singing voice in over a decade, ‘do you know me now?’, a live studio recording later augmented by JAN BANG, EIVIND AARSET and ERIK HONORÉ. it’s certainly a title that’s become more relevant over time as SYLVIAN, in the latter stages of his career, repeatedly comes face to face with a new generation of admirers fixated on the life and times of the band formed by his younger self. SYLVIAN is one of only a handful of musicians to have successfully moved on from overt pop beginnings into a domain all his own but is consistently plagued by the misguided desires or expectations of some unfamiliar with his evolution to do a u-turn, pick up where he left off in the late 90s. although this compilation, as well as his writing for NINE HORSES, adequately shows SYLVIAN’S traditional love of melody is
intact, that it’s consistently remained part of his output, there’s no denying his focus has shifted, evolved.
the refusal to embrace complacency, the need to cover new ground ‘as older generations of popular musicians have a moral duty to explore despite, or because of, the greater possibility of failure’ will, i believe, lead to a reassessment of his later work that embraces a sightly more complex relationship with what we’re referring to as ‘melodic’, accompanied by an exploration of improvisation without dogma or beholden to any ‘givens’ for which he’s not infrequently been castigated. for SYLVIAN, there are no such boundaries. it’s obvious that different facets of his work co-exist without conflict but not necessarily for the majority of his audience. again, this places SYLVIAN in the odd, rare, unenviable(?) position of moving forwards leaving many in his devoted audience behind as, should he decide to return to music, it’s unlikely he’ll be aiming to placate an audience in love with work that preceded the 00s. in fact we’ve no idea where new work, should it surface, may lead.

SLEEPWALKERS also spotlights the innovators who contributed to MANAFON and BLEMISH. CHRISTIAN FENNESZ hangs a crackling, shimmering curtain behind the vocal on ‘transit,’ matching his signature mass of sui generis sounds to sylvian’s stately performance. and the title track began with an instrumental handed to SYLVIAN by MARTIN BRANDLMAYR of POLWECHSEL, soon after the first recording session for MANAFON. spite crackles in the gaps between the percussion, and onkyo artists TOSHIMARU NAKAMURA and SACHIKO M set the stage for the scathing lyrics in the chorus.

it cuts close to the bone and so do the two spoken word cuts, ‘angel’ and ‘thermal,’ produced by SAMADHISOUND recording artists JAN BANG and ERIK HONORÉ (and featuring ARVE HENRIKSEN on trumpet). SYLVIAN describes the latter work as a ‘love poem’ to his daughter. ‘‘thermal’ reflects on a period when our time in sonoma, ca was coming to an end. we’d stayed in temporary accommodation which had lulled us into a false sense of security. we had pear, apple, lemon, and figs trees growing in the yard. a small but exotic paradise. a cocoon. but the cracks were beginning to show in the relationship between ex-wife INGRID CHAVEZ and i which is where i think this underlying sense of anxiety, which runs throughout the poem, is derived from, coupled with the need to provide physical and spiritual stability to the children, the youngest of whom was just under two at the time. the poem is addressed to her. our world was dissipating, coming apart at the seams, but we were an island unto ourselves.’

‘five lines’ marked the start of a new partnership with acclaimed young composer DAI FUJIKURA, who at the time of recording was also working on remixes of MANAFON for what became DIED IN THE WOOL. the string quartet was performed by the celebrated ICE ENSEMBLE and written for SYLVIAN, who FUJIKURA cites as an early influence. says SYLVIAN, ‘the composition moves through numerous changes in time signature but as i had no knowledge of what these were i just relied on my gut instinct, and responded, as i always do, with what felt right to me, composing an entirely new melody in the process. some months later i was working in a studio in london and dai dropped by. i rather tentatively asked if he’d like to hear a rough mix of the song as it stood, painfully aware that my contribution might make no sense to him at all but, to my relief he loved the result.’

there’s one further new addition to this collection, the first official release of a track composed in response to the tsunami in fukushma, ‘modern interiors’, featuring SYLVIAN once again in collaboration with BANG and AARSET.

like 2000s EVERYTHING AND NOTHING, SLEEPWALKERS is a retrospective of a particular decade when SYLVIAN was free of major label interference and could follow his own instincts without having to explaining himself – but it’s also an eye-opening complement to his solo releases. as SYLVIAN explains, ‘some collaborations seem to be a one-off exchange but you can never be too certain of that fact. others have been long term. in this respect, RYUICHI comes to mind. there’s others with whom you hope to continue working as you feel you’ve barely scratched the surface. other times offers come out of the blue, welcome, inspired. regardless, it’s wonderfully explorative to have so many possibilities to juggle with. each collaboration seems timely. it’s as if there’s a rightness to the exchange at a given moment in time.’

in the meantime, we hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

‘as many of you will already be aware, despite relatively continuous work on solo albums, i’ve maintained strong ties with a number of musicians throughout my life in one context or another. on this new collection, let’s call it SLEEPWALKERS 2.0, a selection of collaborative work produced over the period encompassing blemish through to manafon, i’ve included compositions by nine horses as well as more fleeting flirtations and one-offs. neglected offspring. represented also is long term friend and writing partner, RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, as well as more recent but potentially equally productive partnerships such as CHRISTIAN FENNESZ, ARVE HENRIKSEN and contemporary classical composer DAI FUJIKURA.
i hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

we contain multitudes. we’re nothing if not contradictory.’

DAVID SYLVIAN, 2010

(consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life: aldous huxley)

Los Angeles-based experimental producer Al Lover will release his new studio album ‘Cosmic Joke’ on May 27th via Fuzz Club Records.
A staple of the global psychedelic scene, Lover has spent nearly a decade fine-tuning a broken, abstracted form of electronica that pools together a tapestry of trip-hop, synthesised krautrock, dub and dark ambient. Utilising an arsenal of samples, drum machine, analogue synths and live instrumentation, Lover’s is a kaleidoscopic sound that’s J-Dilla, DJ Shadow and Lee Scratch Perry by way of Brian Eno, Kraftwerk and Kluster. Central to Lover’s music is a desire to explore the fringes of psychedelic music and the common threads that run through its far-reaching styles, drawing elements from the past and connecting them to the future. Through the years he has released a number of studio albums and beat tapes, remixed the likes of Osees and Night Beats, been resident DJ for the Levitation and Desert Daze festivals and collaborated with the likes of Goat, Anton Newcombe, Cairo Liberation Front and White Fence. Now, Lover returns with his latest studio album, ‘Cosmic Joke’ – a series of synthesised philosophical meditations on modern life, in all its tragicomic absurdity. "'Cosmic Joke' came from observing the rising, compounded absurdity in recent years and seeing structures of normalcy dissolving. It’s my attempt to view these things as part of a higher-order process, through a metaphysical lens rather than an ideological one. It’s been an exercise in holding the paradoxical relationship of comedy and tragedy, joy and pain, growth and decay, scale and decline as part of an interlocked system that, at a deep level, is essential to how we interface with the world.”

Deluxe Edition is on 180g transparent green vinyl, gatefold sleeve, printed inner-sleeve.

Los Angeles-based experimental producer Al Lover will release his new studio album ‘Cosmic Joke’ on May 27th via Fuzz Club Records.
A staple of the global psychedelic scene, Lover has spent nearly a decade fine-tuning a broken, abstracted form of electronica that pools together a tapestry of trip-hop, synthesised krautrock, dub and dark ambient. Utilising an arsenal of samples, drum machine, analogue synths and live instrumentation, Lover’s is a kaleidoscopic sound that’s J-Dilla, DJ Shadow and Lee Scratch Perry by way of Brian Eno, Kraftwerk and Kluster. Central to Lover’s music is a desire to explore the fringes of psychedelic music and the common threads that run through its far-reaching styles, drawing elements from the past and connecting them to the future. Through the years he has released a number of studio albums and beat tapes, remixed the likes of Osees and Night Beats, been resident DJ for the Levitation and Desert Daze festivals and collaborated with the likes of Goat, Anton Newcombe, Cairo Liberation Front and White Fence. Now, Lover returns with his latest studio album, ‘Cosmic Joke’ – a series of synthesised philosophical meditations on modern life, in all its tragicomic absurdity. "'Cosmic Joke' came from observing the rising, compounded absurdity in recent years and seeing structures of normalcy dissolving. It’s my attempt to view these things as part of a higher-order process, through a metaphysical lens rather than an ideological one. It’s been an exercise in holding the paradoxical relationship of comedy and tragedy, joy and pain, growth and decay, scale and decline as part of an interlocked system that, at a deep level, is essential to how we interface with the world.”

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

23H23 is back in town... a superb Crystal Distorsion tune... One of the rare of a kind... Full out love of a music style creator... and all the other tunes trying, tiding and overfooding for more : Ixindamix in her funky live exercise... always surprised me and I luv that sound... Kindaz and his style too... Gravos bugging the tribe for more experimental groove : big 3rd type encounter ! Attention the extract we builded up does not show the end of the tune .. but finally you get 3 minutes of a round confortable kick... ahaha big I say again... 25D, Redge, Assolm System, Gravos... some other 23 heads of all kind will joice you up to the nirvana of the magic clock ! 23H23 of march or november 2023 !... ouuups... 2022 !

On the tribute album Songs for Tres, Psychic Ills band members come together to commemorate the late Tres Warren who passed away just as the world turned upside down in March of 2020. Isolated, feeling helpless and lost by the death of her musical soul mate and collaborator of 18 years, bassist Elizabeth Hart found making music to be her only outlet in a time where people were unable to be physically together to mourn. So, she reached out to Adam Amram, Jon Catfish DeLorme and Brent Cordero, the main players in the Ills line up since the release of their last full length album Inner Journey Out (2016), to ask if they would embark on this cathartic journey with her. This was a different kind of production endeavor for Hart driven solely by “the aching need and urgency” to do something to honor her friend.

Hart, Amram, DeLorme and Cordero reunited for the first time five months after losing Warren at Amram’s loft – the same spot where they’d rehearsed countless times before – although this time with a different objective. In an effort to share, support and create, the old friends joined in the painful and healing experience of making this tribute album to cope with their loss. The band members wrote, arranged, and rehearsed for months and the result of their work culminated in a weekend of recording in the southern Catskill mountains at the end of 2020. This isolated and intimate environment was a perfectly serene and fitting location to finalize their story.

Throughout the album, Hart, Amram and DeLorme take turns as the vocal lead on each of the songs while Cordero showcases his finger-picking guitar skills in addition to his piano and organ playing, which he is known for. Along with the core band members, a number of other musicians played on the album, many of whom had collaborated on prior Psychic Ills releases and wanted to be a part of this last collaboration in memory of Warren. Keeping the project in the Ills family, Hart produced the album alongside Iván Diaz Mathé, the long-time Psychic Ills sound engineer.

The album consists of five original tracks and four cover songs. Initially, learning the covers was just a method for the musicians to “break the ice” and play together again for the first time without their band leader. However, those tracks became just as important to include as the originals because of their essential role in the process of coming together to make the album. The cover songs were chosen because of their unique connections to the band’s memories of Warren. Dennis Wilson’s "Rainbows" and Fleetwood Mac’s "Station Man" come from two of Warren’s favorite albums, Pacific Ocean Blue and Kiln House. The band also recorded Blaze Foley’s "Clay Pigeons" and Powell St. John’s "Right Track Now." The idea for the latter was suggested by Amram. Warren once sent him a clip of Roky Erikson singing a moving rendition of that song in the film Demon Angel and it had stuck with him ever since.

Hart wrote "I’ll Walk With You" on the day of Warrens’ passing, at the time not knowing what it meant. When she got the call with the heartbreaking news, it became clear to her what the song was about. Relying on a gently lilting string arrangement to set the tone, this duet features Mazzy Star vocalist Hope Sandoval alongside Hart. Sandoval previously collaborated with Psychic Ills accompanying Warren on "I Don’t Mind" (2016). The ideas for "Home" and "Walk Around," two other songs on the album by Hart, started simply with an acoustic guitar and lyrics, a hopeful exercise to connect with her lost friend. Brent Cordero’s instrumental "Whole Lotta Piece of Mind" is nothing short of a transcendental experience. By running his pedal steel through a Leslie speaker, Jon Catfish DeLorme crafts the unique tone showcased on Wonderful Feeling, a moving example of studio experimentation combined with old school techniques. DeLorme describes it as “an attempt to highlight the musical experience I shared with Tres both sonically and thematically. What resulted is the unguarded exaltation I feel lucky to have shared with my fellow bandmates.” Adam Amram’s “Into the Sea” was composed spontaneously the week Warren passed. The melodic tune has a hopeful lightness and Amram describes it simply as “a song to my brother”. Their connection shines through.

In fact, the entire album is one that radiates the layers of friendship, love and music that will forever exist between this family of musicians. As the band themselves state: “This album was made out of love and a commitment to honor our dear friend and bandmate.” A portion of the proceeds from the album will be donated to RAICES, a charity who aids children who have been displaced at the Texas/Mexico border.

**LTD BLACK AND RED MARBLE**

As humans, we are aware of our inner beast and should therefore be able to control it. We understand our hard-wired primal urges and why they exist in an evolutional sense. We understand the relationship between mind and body. Highly evolved and intelligent, we should be able to recognize these genetic hangovers and control them as a means to act positively and move forward as a compassion-ate species. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Recent global events have proven this. The human race is consuming itself.

World Eater, the new album by Benjamin John Power's Blanck Mass project, is a reaction to this. There is an underlying violence and anger throughout the record, even though some of these tracks are the closest Power has ever come to writing, in his words, actual love songs.'

Maybe subconsciously this was some kind of countermeasure to restore some personal balance,' Power explains.

On World Eater, Power further perfects the propulsive, engrossing electronic music he has created throughout his impressive decade-plus career, both under the Blanck Mass moniker and as one-half of Fuck Buttons, as he elaborates upon the sound of 2015's brilliant double album Dumb Flesh. As massive as the sonic world of the new record often feels, its greatest achievement is in its maximization of a limited set of tools, a restriction intentionally set by Power himself.

As an exercise in better understanding myself musically, I found myself using an increasingly restricted palette during the World Eater creative process. Evoking these intense emotions using minimal components really put me outside of my comfort zone and was unlike the process I am used to. Feeling exposed shone a new light on this particular snapshot. I feel enriched for doing so.'

(A) 1. John Doe's Carnival of Error
(B) 2. Rhesus Negative
(C) 3. Please
(D) 4. The Rat
(E) 5. Silent Treatment
(F) 6. Minnesota / Eas Fors / Naked
(G) 7. Hive Mind

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

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

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

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

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

FFO: Arthur Russell, Stealing Sheep, Neu!, Agar Agar, Galaxians
Holodrum are a new disco-infused synth-pop group, who feature members of Hookworms, Yard Act, Cowtown, Virginia Wing, Drahla and more.

Maybe Holodrum were destined to start at this point. This might be the first time they’ve all officially worked together, but between Emily Garner (vocals), Matthew Benn (synth/bass/production), Jonathan Nash (drums), Jonathan Wilkinson (guitar), Sam Shjipstone (guitar/vocals), Christopher Duffin (sax/synth) and Steve Nuttall (percussion) they’ve shared bands, mixed each other’s records, promoted live shows and made music videos together in and around Leeds. As Holodrum, this is the 7 piece’s debut album, but the interlocking grooves and hot headiness of their repeato-rock-via-CBGBs dopamine hits have in one way or other been fermenting for years.

“When it comes to doing music most bands fall between two extremes of doing it for some goal or as an end to itself” says Shjipstone. “I think Holodrum is about the joy and complexity of living, and I just hope to god everyone gets to have a good time doing it.”

Ultimately the core of the group comes from Shjipstone and his former Hookworms bandmates Benn, Nash and Wilkinson. After their abrupt dissolution in late 2018, the four of them spent six months apart; Benn still had Xam Duo, his ongoing project with Virginia Wing and some-time James Holden & The Animal Spirits live member Duffin, Nash remains vocalist and guitarist of long-running DIY rockers Cowtown and helms his solo project Game_Program; and Shjipstone plays guitar with Yard Act. However, the four of them missed the sixth sense synergy they’d built-up playing together over a decade and soon enough demos were being swapped and new ideas were discussed.

The vision of a large live electronic ensemble formed quickly. Friends were added: Duffin and Nuttall – who was keen to resurrect the double percussion interplay that he and Nash had been exploring as part of motorik trio Nope joined first. Then animator and VIDE0 singer Garner crystallised the line-up by joining on vocals.

“Apart from Emily, all of us had actually played together before in a covers band at a New Year’s Eve party at the Brudenell Social Club a couple of years ago, so we knew we could have fun together” says Benn. “So we set up to be a live party band early on. We wanted lots of people on stage having fun, playing for people that also wanted to have fun. It makes sense we take inspiration from bands like Tom Tom Club and Liquid Liquid; they were trying to help people to party at a point when New York was quite a scary and dangerous place we’re doing the same, albeit in the face of a decaying world and a global pandemic.”

Covid-19 hasn’t given them much opportunity to do that yet, with two fledgling shows in late 2019 to their name before festival appearances at the likes of Bluedot, Sounds From The Other City and Gold Sounds were scuppered last year. However, the 6 tracks on Holodrum crackle with the energy of the dancefloor. Opening cut 'Lemon Chic' described by Garner as her “workout track” starts out sparsely, with tight drum claps and burbling synths holding a teetering suspense before the whole thing’s prised open, allowing beaming saxophone skronk to shine in. Garner’s vocals bob and weave around the syncopations of the track’s building cacophony.

It sets the stall for an album heavy on euphoria, built atop crisp interplaying percussion and acid-flecked grooves. At times Shjipstone provides a raw counterpoint on vocals, while elsewhere - like on the strutting, swirling disco of 'Free Advice' and 'Low Light'’s late night ping pong synths - the pair indulge in playful call and response as the instrumentation builds and contorts around them. 'Stage Echo' provides a respite of sorts halfway through, a swirling, fever dream of a track that peaks with big squelchy frequencies and cavernous reverb, before the album returns to its repetitious exercises in body-moving catharsis underpinned at all times by a relentlessly propulsive rhythm section.

Danish composer, musician and producer Trentemøller announces his new studio album 'Memoria' which is set for release in early 2022 on his own label In My Room alongside the first single 'In The Gloaming' which is released September 10th 2021. Anders Trentemøller's sixth studio album, Memoria, seems to exist at the
confluence of inspiration, coincidence, and maybe even a little bit of the supernatural.
A recent, unanticipated drop of four songs, in the form of two singles (No One Quite Like You, and Golden Sun), might leave one surprised to find that a full album's worth of material was also waiting in the wings.
As with most Trentemøller releases, it's a body of songs that are thematically linked by many melodic threads.

The first single from the upcoming album, 'In The Gloaming', which is released in September 2021, implies the arc of the album might have actually begun late in the day, giving the sensation of waking in the evening. Nocturne's dawning. Stars emerge in the form of percussive arpeggios.

2019's Trentemøller album 'Obverse' was an exercise in what could be done if the prospect of performing the songs onstage wasn't a factor. It opened up some doors, and signaled a new chapter. Memoria, even considering its resplendence, almost feels like it demands to be presented live as well.

Tripe. It’s what graces the cover of Cassels’ third album, A Gut Feeling. It looks gross. And Cassels are a rock band who’ve often sounded gross. You know the adjectives. ‘Discordant’. ‘Angular’. ‘Cynical’. Shellac quickly mentioned. I’ve done it already, see?Listening to A Gut Feeling, though, Cassels sound different. Not too different – the molten riff of advance single ‘Mr Henderson Coughs’ puts paid to the idea that the London-based duo have taken a hard 180. But instead of writing as quickly as possible, riding the churn forced on DIY bands by an indifferent ecosystem, the Covid-19 pandemic gave the brothers Beck (Jim, guitar/vocals, and Loz, drums/BVs) some time to mull things over. Instead of sticking with the stripped-back recording approach of previous LPs, Jim and Loz spent time at Tom Hill’s Bookhouse Studios in South London, considering tone, layering tracks, and bringing new instruments into the fold. Lyrically, the approach has changed too. Rather than presented as personal experience, Jim notes that his words this time around “are an intentionally muddy mix of experience, opinion, red herrings and fiction,” adding, “I found that setting myself the brief of writing character pieces offered a nice way of sneaking quite personal things into the songs without being explicitly autobiographical.” The result is the most satisfying and unexpected collection of songs in the Cassels catalogue. Instruments at turns razor-sharp and bludgeon-blunt provide the backing track to a savage, hilarious, and tender collection of short stories. Jim notes that “writing can be a great way of unearthing hang-ups and becoming acquainted with your own anxieties”. Hardly new ground for a rock band, but presented in this third person format – unbiased and filled to the brim with human warmth – these songs are more empathetic than anything the band have written before. You might have been Michael on his daily commute. Perhaps you’re Sarah, or have a mum like her. And many of us will recognise ourselves in the heart-breaking ‘Family Visits Relative’. It’s clear that the band still aren’t afraid to tackle weighty subjects too, with A Gut Feeling picking up where their previous album, The Perfect Ending, left off. ‘Charlie Goes Skiing’ pulls a similar trick to Future of the Left’s ‘Goals in Slow Motion’ – setting a screed against consumerism to one of the most propulsive, catchy tracks on the record. It’s followed by ‘Dog Drops Bone’, a rustling loop overlaid with sad, simple chords reminiscent of a Sparklehorse tune, which uses the internal monologue of a beloved canine companion to question the true depth and sincerity of human relationships. This kicks into the breakneck ‘Beth’s Recurring Dream’ – a track exploring a sexual identity crisis which owes as much to early Los Campesinos! as it does Steve Albini. Of ‘Your Humble Narrator’, the album’s punishing, pulsing opener and A Gut Feeling’s thematic frame, Jim explains: “I liked the idea of introducing an unreliable narrator who frames the album as an exercise in manipulation for personal gain. When a person engages with a piece of art they are invariably being manipulated by the artist to some degree – that’s part of the fun. The artist aims to elicit some sort of emotional response, the audience buys into the conceit at the promise of experiencing some form of escape.” as listeners, we experience that manipulation first-hand on A Gut Feeling. But the fact Cassels have packaged it up as offal feels like another bleak wink. This is far from a stinking by-product, salvaged and sold to maximise profit. It’s nothing less than the most complete, relatable, and fully realised piece of art the duo has produced to date. Emotional response elicited. Conceit embraced.

What is techno if not a powerful conduit for energy? The movement of a sequence, the surge of an effects rush, the respondent reaction in every individual dancer and the moving mass of the crowd as a whole. Whether the frequencies transmit directly into the brain through the intimacy of a headphone reverie, reverberate through the architecture of a space or fill the formless void of the open air, techno’s potency to initiate and stimulate energetic events is profound. This is something Pfirter understands intimately, having spent more than 15 years exploring ways of manipulating the energy on a dancefloor.

Of course, energy is not just about volume and aggression. Tonality, spatial processing and composition can have just as profound an effect as the thump of the kick drum. On his new album Altered States, Pfirter proves that point by zeroing in on the cerebral, psychedelic elements of his craft across 10 incisive tracks. The Argentine producer consciously approached his second album (following 2019’s The Empty Space) with a minimal mindset, using a very focused set of drum machines and synths to achieve a consistency across the record. Captured over a short burst of creativity, it’s the sound of an artist pushing a limited array of tools as far as possible. Despite this concise palette, it’s not an album that repeats itself, but rather an extended trip that flows from one detailed, textured immersion to the next.

The dense, febrile waves of hard-oscillating ripples in ‘A Future In Chaos’ and the sparkling, off-key chimes adorning ‘Yearn’ all speak to Pfirter’s gift for extravagant, surrealist expression within his tracks. ‘Altered States’, by way of contrast, succeeds in its absolute immediacy – a piledriving statement of bleep-driven intent. ‘Boiler’ and ‘Convergence’ land somewhere in between, coiling around kinked rhythmic incantations which still push forwards with precision while offering a different angle from which to approach the dancefloor. Cementing the idea of the whole album as a listening experience, Altered States is bookended by ‘Venus’ and ‘Dissolution’, two minimal exercises in drone-oriented mood setting.

Pfirter understands the role of his music, and his own instincts as a performing artist. It’s crafted to be captivating for DJs as much as the attentive listener. Spanning linear rhythms and broken beats, moments of calm and writhing intensity, Altered States offers a multitude of energetic possibilities in the mix or as a standalone piece of music. Ultimately, it’s a masterful return from a leading light of the contemporary techno scene.

This is MindTrip!

C.Z. debuts on LA's Evar Records with the uncompromising Heat Index EP.

The Los Angeles-based producer, beatmaker and DJ sets a course through IDM, techno, jungle and trance to deliver five frenetic, emotionally-charged dancefloor cuts.

Over the course of an intensely productive career, Colby Zinser (aka C.Z.) has made music spanning genres like pop, rap, hardcore and jungle. As well as releasing music as C.Z., he's operated multiple aliases, including the prolific Ice Underlord. Drawing from a longstanding fascination with breaks, trance and the IDM of artists like Warp Records' Clark, he's developed his own rich and eclectic style of club music - a sound that crystalized on his 2020 debut album Hyperfocus.

C.Z. emerged from 2020 armed with a mass of new dancefloor tracks, freshly inspired to make club music a central focus, after years of smuggling techno, trance and breaks elements into the rap beats he was making for others. As he explains: 'It's great to come back to music and just make what I love, I don't want to be someone else's secret weapon, I want to be my own.' Heat Index refuses to toe a line, steering skillfully through genres and setting a tone that oscillates between club-fuelled euphoria, heartbreak and the looming threat of planetary crisis.

Opener 'Midnight' rattles along at a breathless 160 BPM, transporting you to a breakdown in the middle of a pounding hard trance set. Within a minute the rushing neon trance synths collide with huge, sub destroying kicks. The title track 'Heat Index' follows, with brooding pads bolted onto a tight breakbeat, leaving space open for the razor sharp, searching synth line.

Moving rapidly through the gears, 'Hurricane' is an aptly titled exercise in precision programmed classic jungle breaks, carried forward by bubbling earworm melodies. 'Retrograde' shifts the focus again - a pitch-black, dark, fast and seething techno track ripe for warehouses and dungeons, before 'Radial Lens', a melodic, anthemic set-closer built on a muscular, downtempo break.

C.Z.'s first appearance on Evar Records, the LA label founded in 2020 by Trickfinger and Aura T-09, follows a series of hard-hitting releases from Speed Dealer Moms, Limewax and Kilbourne, all artists who like C.Z., are able to traverse twisted electronica, club music and pure abstraction with ease. 'I want to help encourage a more open electronic music space, less pretentious, and encompassing all genres.' C.Z. says. 'It's an important goal of mine, and one the label shares.' Heat Index is a wide-ranging EP from a versatile producer, and a celebration of unfettered expression, for minds and dancefloors free from inhibition or genre restriction.

On 18th April, 1980, after decades of anti colonial struggle, the Zimbabweian flag was finally raised at midnight at the Rufaro Stadium in Harare. Not long after, the words "Ladies and Gentlemen, Bob Marley and The Wailers!" rang out, and Zimbabwe's independent future began.

In the years that followed, Africa was to produce it's own reggae superstars, as the likes of Alpha Blondy, Majek Fashek and Lucky Dube swept across the continent and beyond, and there's no doubting Bob Marley's explosive impact on this particular narrative.

Marley's unswerving commitment to liberation and unity ranged from the sweeping spiritual sentiments of iconic hits such One Love and Redemption Song to the galvanising, focused tone of 1979's 'Zimbabwe', and his status as global superstar ensured that his (self funded) part in the countries' epochal celebrations meant that the history of reggae in Africa would always be viewed through the prism of his influence ( Wiki/African Reggae : "In 1980, world-famous Jamaican reggae musician Bob Marley performed in Harare, Zimbabwe, and that concert is often credited as marking the beginning of reggae in Africa")

But in fact, the recorded history of reggae produced in Africa stretches back over a decade before Marley's arrival on the continent, and showcases broad pan - diasporic interflows between the Carribean and Africa, with the UK and the US communities playing influential supporting roles, all helping shape the evolution and development of the genre in Africa from late 60's inception to Marley's arrival in 1980, and then well beyond.

Reggae Africa : Roots and Culture, 1972 - 1981 tries to capture a sense of that evolution, starting in 1972 as Mebussa's ultra rare 'Good Bye Friends' effortlessly captures triangular, transatlantic cultural interflows, with the short lived Nigerian group's bitter sweet chords echoing classic US soul, but laid over a gritty, skanking Jimmy Cliff - esque proto reggae rhythm.

Trying to work out the precise provenance of Black Reggae's 'Darling I'm So Proud of You' (1975) isn't easy, but involves Paris based / African focused label Fiesta, some proper OG co-branding exercise with Bols Brandy ( "Bols Brandy presents Black Reggae") - and deeply infectious, lilting Rocksteady.

By 1976, glorious Nigerian sister duo Lijadu Sisters are echoing the chunky roots of a Dennis Brown or U Roy on 'Bobby', and in 1977, bespoke Nigerian drummer Georges Happi is introing 'Hello Friends' with the soon to be universal signature reggae tom roll intro, before veering leftfield with snatches of spoken Afro - English vocal in between the hooky choruses.

Nigerian giant Chrissy Essien's 'I'll Be You Man' (1979) combines floaty Lovers vibes with catchy ska shuffle, and in the same year, Cameroonian afro-funk/disco heavyweight Pasteur Lappe' drifts seamlessly into skanking, Lovers infected reggae on 'Babbette D.O. ( Rastawoman )' (before a sprawling electric guitar solo reminds us how unselfconsiously eclectic so much African music of the era was.)

And finally bookending the compilation, in chronological terms, fellow Cameroonian Tala AM also swaps his funk and soul for the rootsy and infectious 'Hop Sy Trong' (1981), again highlighting the diverse and eclectic approach to this timeless Carribean musical genre taken by African musicians in the years before that Bob Marley year zero event in Zimbabwe.

Bored At My Grandma's House is the moniker of 19-year old Leeds-based Amber Strawbridge, starting out as an exercise in passing time when she was quite literally bored at her Grandma's place. First single & EP opener 'Showers' is about time alone & listening to your mind - “Do you ever think of showers as like a new beginning?“ is a poignant opening line, about that therapeutic space for you to really think and let your thoughts surface. In Amber's own words "showers are a kind of therapy in my opinion, they give you time to reflect and think without influence from anything external."

Born in Whitehaven, Cumbria to musical family, and raised on the likes of Bowie & Pink Floyd there was always plenty of opportunity to mess around on the various instruments lying around the house. Attempts at proper music lessons went awry as Amber shunned the rules & rigidity, and so instead she gradually taught herself piano, guitar & drums. After time travelling in Cambodia, teaching English & helping with projects in various villages, Amber stayed with her Grandma & began to use the aeons of spare time to make tunes on Garageband & upload them to soundcloud. As a wave of BBC Introducing support rolled in, coupled with a move to Leeds to study music, the bedroom set-up evolved & a full EP began to take shape.

Playing all the instruments & self-recording most of the EP at home, Amber took the tracks to Alex Greaves (Working Men's Club, Bdrmm) at the Nave studio for live drums & some final mixing flourishes, leaving an EP full of lo-fi charm but with a studio feel.  Inspired by Slowdive, Wolf Alice & Alvvays, Sometimes I Forget You're Human Too showcases Amber's singular vision of indie-pop, on an EP that deals with topics like humanity, nostalgia & the current refugee crisis.

Speaking on the EP title Amber says "Sometimes I forget you’re human too is the realisation that everyone is the same. In the sense that we are all human, everyone has issues and problems to face, everyone makes mistakes and has success. I used to compare myself to others a lot and think ‘wow they have their life together’ or ‘how are they so happy all of the time’ but that’s not the case it’s just what you can see on the outside ...so it’s kind of an EP of self assurance and reminding myself that it’s ok to not have it together all the time because no one does as we’re all just human after all"

The EP is just the start for Bored At My Grandmas House "I’ve already got a few tracks which I’m thinking could be potentially for an album, I’d definitely like to do a bigger project next and have the sound I’d like in mind. I’ve recently just got a band together so hopefully when live shows are resurrected I’ll have a few of those!" 2021 is looking to be anything but boring for Amber Strawbridge.

The original Rio beach boy returns in style, with a new record of unabashedly feel-good Brazilian party music. Featuring Azymuth bassist Alex Malheiros (responsible for some of Brazil’s all-time funkiest low-end licks), a horn section including Valle’s go-to high-trumpeter Jesse Sadoc, and percussion master Armando Marcal, Sempre has all the masterful composition, exceptional musicality, and forward-thinking ideas you’d expect from the Brazilian titan, and it’s fresher than a fruity caipirinha in the Copacabana sunshine.

Updating Marcos Valle’s seminal boogie-era sound, Sempre spans ecstatic disco, cosmic samba, and late-night jazz-funk, drawing obvious comparisons to some of Valle’s late-seventies and early-eighties output. ‘Estrelar’ (1983), for example, an ode to the joy of exercise, has become one of the biggest Brazilian disco hits of all time. But lyrically the new album is more closely reminiscent of Valle’s progressive early seventies’ releases. Heralding love, tolerance and living in the present, while satirising political corruption, the new release recalls a time in which Valle, together with his brother Paulo Sergio, was writing subtly subversive lyrics in order to bypass the censorship imposed by the military dictatorship, which ruled over Brazil between 1964 and 1985.
The album marries compositional genius with pure pop perfection. From the blistering brass arrangements on up-tempo disco hit ‘Olha Quem ta Chegando’ and the infinitely classy ‘Vou Amanhã Saber’, to the nine-minute synth heavy instrumental funk stepper ‘Odisséia’, which gradually morphs into an interplanetary samba jam, the songs are tightened and given an extra coat of gloss, by London based producer Daniel Maunick (son of Incognito frontman Bluey). More moments of boogie delight come in the form of ‘Minha Roma’ (a musical nod to the famed ‘Estrelar’), and the sunshine anthem title-track ‘Sempre’.

Translating as ‘Ever’, Sempre is a testament to the continual drive for development and reinvention that has defined Marcos Valle’s astounding six-decade career. Ever changing, ever moving forward, he began as one of the second-wave of early bossa nova composers in the sixties, writing the world famous bossa standard ‘Summer Samba (So Nice)’ for his sophomore album ‘Samba 68’. After a brief stint in the States, Valle returned to Brazil, and the early ’70s saw the release of four ground-breaking Valle albums which incorporated progressive rock, psychedelic influences, pop, jazz, soul and cinematic arrangements. These albums would see Valle work alongside a number of hugely influential Brazilian bands, including Milton Nascimento’s backing band Som Imaginaro, the prog-rock band O Terco and jazz funk legends Azymuth. Returning back to the US in ‘75, Valle resided in LA, writing music for the likes of Eumir Deodato, Airto Moreira, Chicago, Sarah Vaughn and Leon Ware, before returning to Brazil once more, where after releasing a handful of hit pop records, he took a hiatus from recording.

Since the mid-nineties, Marcos Valle has been experiencing a renaissance with London based label Far Out Recordings, where his approach to music has remained, as always; decidedly open to new influences, possibilities and technologies. Sempre is Marcos Valle’s fifth album for the label, following 2010’s critically acclaimed Estatica.

Just in time for summer, Sempre is out on Vinyl LP/ CD on 28th June 2019 on Far Out Recordings, and Marcos Valle and band will be touring Europe in May /June (see below for dates).

‘This Is Telex’ is a brand-new compilation collecting 14
tracks from the innovative Belgium trio, covering their
career from formation in 1978 up to the final album in
2006.

This compilation includes the hit single ‘Moskow
Diskow’ as well as their Eurovision Song Contest
entry, aptly called ‘Euro-vision’.
There are also two wonderful and previously
unreleased tracks unearthed from the Telex archive, a
cover of The Beatles’ ‘Dear Prudence’ and a
reinterpretation of a Sonny & Cher track called ‘The
Beat Goes On/Off’.

All the tracks were newly mixed and remastered from
the original tapes by band members Dan Lacksman
and Michel Moers, keeping all the tracks in the spirit of
the originals but adding a freshness to them.
This compilation sets the way for a comprehensive
reissue campaign of the entire Telex catalogue.
CD in card pack with 12-page booklet.

Coloured vinyl 2LP (side A/B is shrimp pink vinyl, side
C/D fern green vinyl) housed in a gatefold cover with
printed inner sleeves with notes by David Stubbs, plus
digital download code.

Tape packaged in pink case with a green shell, plus
digital download code.

LTD. NEON PINK & NEON GREEN VINYL

The Impossible Kid, released in 2016 on Rhymesayers Entertainment, marked Indie-rap mainstay Aesop Rock's first solo venture since 2012's Skelethon. Aesop continued finding new ways to improve on the skills that have made him one of the kings of indie hip-hop. His creative process now includes a newfound willingness to open up about his personal life, going deep on topics like depression, his sometimes rocky relationship with his family, and the turbulent handful of years that culminated in Aesop leaving his adopted home of San Francisco to live in a barn out in the woods, where he recorded the foundations of The Impossible Kid. There's also moments of levity though, as Aesop taps into the funny side of his persona that he suppressed during the period where being taken as a serious lyricist was more of a priority. Like Skelethon, Aesop exercised complete creative control over every aspect of the album, from the production (which he handled himself, with instrumental help from Philly's Grimace Foundation) to conceptualizing the cover art by his friend Alex Pardee.

“Walk the dog. Exercise. Make art.’The mind is happy when the body
is.’ Things I can potentially fill my days with if I am stuck at home
for months on end…Then, one day, I hear a frenetic, free drummer
playing in his garage a few blocks from me. And I think ‘interesting’.
I stand outside his garage staring at the wall, like a fool, for a minute,
then decide to leave a note on the car parked there. This is how I ended
up meeting and working with Ted Byrnes. He wasn’t creeped out, and
he ended up sending me a pile of truly spontaneous drums recordings
from the carport to work with. I decided to have every musician
come in one at at time and just take a wild pass at their track over the
drums. None of these people had ever met or played together. I was
the connecting thread. I scratched the surface initially with electric
bass, saxophone, guitars, cuica, synthesizers, flute and effects, but
soon realized I would need heavy hitters to make this place habitable.
“Greg Coates, upright bass expressionist extraordinaire, hacked
through the dense weeds, vines and frayed cabling. He lays the map
out and makes breathing room. Space to swing a cat. Tom Dolas
(keys), my often foil, came in and began tip-toeing through the rubble
and refuse. Dotting the layout with flecks of light, flights of fancy and
potential tangential trajectories. Then the finisher, Brad Caulkins on
horns. As always, Brad came in like grace itself, scanned the floor
for food, and huffed and puffed and blew the house down. He takes a
bruiser situation and lends it some warmth and hospitality, old school.
“After I spent a bit of time mixing and editing this down to a
palatable offering I couldn’t help but think about human consumption.
...Endless Garbage seemed a fitting title. A cacophonous and glorious
sketch of ourselves. For fans of Albert Ayler, ECM records, Gong,
improvisation, sustainability and consumption” —John Dwyer

Melbourne’s Cool Sounds return with their fourth full-length album Bystander, out February 12. Warm and deftly balanced, Bystander moves through indie rock and alt-country with an alert effortlessness.

Cool Sounds’ signature lead guitar lines are in dialogue with lead singer and songwriter Dainis Lacey’s lyrics, which are at turns introspective, self-aware, irreverent and unflinchingly observant. Bystander was written during a European summer and recorded in three weeks over the following Australian one, produced by Lacey alongside Dylan Young (Way Dynamic). While it can sound serene, Bystander isn’t always as laid back as the warm weather might suggest: this album sees Cool Sounds more attuned to their surroundings than ever. While Lacey has always been interested in storytelling, these songs bring lyrics into sharp focus – for the first time the words were all written before the music, and he took notes in the band’s cramped tour van on the autobahn and while wandering through small towns in France and Italy, reflecting on his home while away from it.

Bystander sees Cool Sounds explore the contemporary moment and the everyday with nuance and dexterity, never losing sight of the intimacy and charm that characterises their work. An exercise in observation and reflection, Bystander takes snapshots and zooms in, underlines phrases, and asks its listener to continue paying close attention.

Cool Sounds are Dainis Lacey, Nick Kearton, Ambrin Hasnain, Steve Foulkes, Jack Nichols, Pierce Morton

Produced by Dainis Lacey and Dylan Young

Engineered by Dylan Young

* repress on sandstone colour vinyl

For 'Music For Dreams’ collector’s series, we aim to bring you something a little different, something a little out there. After eclectic contributions from Jan Schulte, Moonboots and most recently Basso, we’ve lent the slot to Belgian sonic globetrotter DJ soFa. As always, he’s been granted supreme curatorial sovereignty, and trust us, he held us to our word on that one. For elsewhere Jr I, soFa takes us on a trip to the alluring and magical reality of childhood - and a trip, it is.

This double LP features both new and old compositions from a wide range of countries, all centered around the youngest citizens of planet earth. The compilation has been 2.5 years in the making, with soFa collecting obscure pieces from all over the world and inspiring young collaborators to produce new tracks mostly by means of analogue synthesizers and vintage drum machines. The result is a thematically and sonically homogenous collage of cosmic children’s music.

'soFa' starts us off with Milo Kolarov’s exercise in sonic imagery ‘Analogue Beam’, a story about animal characters, presented to us as distinct motifs of bleeps and blitzes. Next up is the surreal jigsaw puzzle dub ‘Totti und Pippo’ by Jah Limonardi and 'Die Kleine Gräfin Dubski'.

Here, we come bouncing on giant, iridescent mushrooms, lulled deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole by incantations of a child’s voice. Throughout, the record is full of these synaesthetic properties, immersing the listener in creative ways, nudging you down hidden experiential pathways.
All of the tracks, more precisely ... they were pleasantly engaging, often blooming with charming grooves and provided with a whimsical melody.

Mesmeric and kaleidoscopic, shimmering with electrified unease, Show Me How You Disappear is both an exercise in self-forgiveness and an eventual understanding of unresolved trauma. Jilian Medford’s third record as IAN SWEET unfolds at an acute juncture in her life, charting from a mental health crisis to an intensive healing process and what comes after. How do you control the thoughts that control you? What does it mean to get better? What does it mean to have a relationship with yourself?

Recorded with Andrew Sarlo (Big Thief, Empress Of) and Andy Seltzer (Maggie Rogers), among others, Medford approached this album as a curator. She handpicked the producers that fit each song, which explains the range and experimentation showcased. Medford then recruited Chris Coady to mix and tie everything together into one cohesive piece.

Dizzying and enthralling, Show Me How You Disappear is the sound of someone coming apart and putting themselves back together — the moment an old mantra, repeated into the mirror time and time again, finally clicks. To look at your reflection, and finally feel seen.

It has been twelve months since singer-songwriter Lucy Spraggan chose to go sober, and life has changed a lot. In fact, the present day Lucy Spraggan is, in a multitude of ways, unrecognisable from the person of yesteryear. Control - both relinquishing it and taking it back - plus rediscovering oneself, is a recurring theme of the past year and Spraggan’s forthcoming album Choices. Aptly named, the songs that comprise the collection offer insight and introspection that saw her let go of alcohol, embrace exercise and a healthier lifestyle, move onwards through a divorce and find solace in its wake. Needless to say, it may have been necessary, but it was by no means easy. In conclusion, “it’s really just been an enlightening thing.”

One of the most striking documents of Italy’s Minimalist movement, Giusto Pio’s "Motore Immobile" is a work with few equivalents. Produced by Franco Battiato in 1979, at the outset of a long and fruitful period of collaboration between the two composers, and issued by the legendary Cramps Records, its triumphs were met by silence, before falling from view.

"Motore Immobile" now sits within a reappraisal of a large neglected body of efforts made by the Italian avant-garde during the second half of the 1970’s and early 80’s. It is singular, but not alone. It resonates within a collective world of shimmering sound, one familiar to fans of Battiato, Lino Capra Vaccina, Luciano Cilio, Roberto Cacciapaglia, Francesco Messina and Raul Lovisoni.

An exercise in elegant restraint - note and resonance held to the most implicit need. Where everything between root and embellishment has been stripped away. A sublime organ drone, against interventions of deceptively simple structural complexity - executed by Piano, Violin, and Voice. A sonic sculpture reaching heights which few have touched. A thing of beauty and an album as perfect as they come.

On their Night Dreamer debut, Sarathy Korwar and his allstar “UPAJ Collective” gain brand new ground in their mission to rebalance spiritual jazz with authentic Indian classical music. “UPAJ” means “to improvise” inHindi, and recording direct-to-disc at Artone Studios with almost no preconceived directions, they truly capture the “spirit of spontaneous improvisation”, as Sarathy puts it, like never before.


Sarathy Korwar 2020

"Recording in one take, direct-to-disc is a unique scenario to be in. I feel very blessed to be presented this opportunity. I decided very early on that in order to make the best use of this scenario, the music had to be completely improvised and spontaneous. That is the only true way to record within the limitations of one take. No regrets, no mistakes, no fear and no judgement. These were the ideals. In a way, this was about creating a utopian vision of a world I would like to live in. A microcosm of the ideals that I would like to live by, in the recording studio. The vision of going into the studio with this in mind, was more important than the resulting music we created. Process over product.

Before the session we did some collective breathing exercises that I have learnt from my mother (who is a pranayama practitioner/teacher) and Wim Hof. I believe this helps centre the focus of the group and balances the mind, making it most receptive to new sounds and inspiration.

The song So said Said is a tribute to Edward Said. Intimate Enemy, a tip of the hat to the book of the same name by Ashis Nandy (Intimate Enemy: Loss and recovery of self under colonialism). A cover of Flight IC408 by State Of Bengal is on Side B, as I am a massive fan of the band. Elephant Hangover is the imagery that the tune conjures for me personally on listening to it. A beautiful remix by the brilliant Osunlade of So said Said is on side D.

Thank you to the gifted musicians - Al, Tamar, Achuthan and Giuliano for trusting and letting go. I am lucky to spend time with you."

OPAQUE GARAY VINYL

SUMAC (Aaron Turner on guitar and vocals, Nick Yacyshyn on drums, and Brian Cook on bass) invests in the recursive exercises of chaos and control, which manifest on the band's second album What One Becomes. The trio's debut The Deal (2015) revealed a new side of Turner's combustible songwriting and guitar work, further expanding on his efforts in Isis and Old Man Gloom. On the new album (recorded by the prolific engineer Kurt Ballou of Converge, who has also recorded High on Fire and Torche), the trio has elevated the songs' complexities with a greater entanglement of velocity, density, form, and function. The results are a testament to the tour-honed collective intuition and technical skills of drummer Yacyshyn (Baptists), bassist Cook (Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes, Botch) and Turner. The music of What One Becomes requires that each player be attuned to the dynamics and the tension within the multilateral structures.

We are back on wax again with a very special release. It means a great pleasure for us to have one of the pivotal figures of the Madrid underground techno scene on board, Herr Unkle Fon.

Some years ago, Madrid clubscene was formed by conventional clubs in conventional locations with conventional opening and closing times and usually, conventional programming. Manuel Cano then founded Utopía Secret Society and things changed forever for the city’s underground nightlife.

Now as you may have noticed there is no club scene at all, neither conventional nor illegal, sign of the times.

Musically speaking, Manuel started as a guitarist and soon evolved into studio engineer, label owner, club promoter, record shop owner (Ater Cosmo), social agitator… and adventurous character that reflects in his productions all his knowledge of the dancefloor.

Jisatsu is a slow paced broken beat surrounded with smooth textures, soon joined by a repetitive synth line that adds the hypnotic component.

Genroku Ako follows with a cosmic approach, continuous percussive and synthetic lines run together on a fast BPM exercise obsessive, linear and mental.

On the flip side, 47 Ronin uses dreamy stabs over a relentless groove mixing liquidity with tension.

Closing the release Shuppatsu is an almost beatless exercise, just with 909 rimshots, toms and snares spiced with ethereal components

A timeless futuristic release that can wait on your record bag until things go in better directions.

Much like its predecessor, In Decay, the 2014 compilation of unreleased, early Com Truise recordings, In Decay, Too unlocks a new set of rarities and unheard fragments from the past for the producer's legion of fans. To accomplish such a feat, the Com camp tapped the Internet's foremost Com Truise archivist, Polychora (formerly Comrade), whose YouTube channel has diligently documented Seth Haley's musical output since his earliest Komputer Cast (Haley's podcast mix series) days. Polychora's vault and input helped Haley and the team locate and curate the ultimate sequence of career-spanning off-album material, showcasing an artist in perpetual orbit of hazy machinist nostalgia. Haley's singular style of melodic beat music is the work of countless iterations; with In Decay, Too, his idiosyncratic exercises, experiments, and pivots pause for a rightful wave of appreciation. Following the smeared introductory tones of "Zeta," the album locks into its first robotic groove on "Compress_ Fuse," a trademark Truise treatment with cascading synth lines and deep, sinister low-end bass stabs. Further down is the suspiciously bright "False Ascendancy," which lures listeners through a labyrinth of drum patterns and siren-like keys, all colliding into "Constant Fracture." The track pushes to the point of stress, reaching the album's apex with a punishing series of blows before fading to relief, where the beatless and contemplative "Trajectory" awaits. In 2019, Com Truise left his previous sci-fi narratives behind for the visceral Persuasion System, a markedly more human record, which now makes In Decay, Too something like a bookend to an era. One last transmission from coordinates unknown; a culminating exhale ahead of what's still yet to come.

Much like its predecessor, In Decay, the 2014 compilation of unreleased, early Com Truise recordings, In Decay, Too unlocks a new set of rarities and unheard fragments from the past for the producer's legion of fans. To accomplish such a feat, the Com camp tapped the Internet's foremost Com Truise archivist, Polychora (formerly Comrade), whose YouTube channel has diligently documented Seth Haley's musical output since his earliest Komputer Cast (Haley's podcast mix series) days. Polychora's vault and input helped Haley and the team locate and curate the ultimate sequence of career-spanning off-album material, showcasing an artist in perpetual orbit of hazy machinist nostalgia. Haley's singular style of melodic beat music is the work of countless iterations; with In Decay, Too, his idiosyncratic exercises, experiments, and pivots pause for a rightful wave of appreciation. Following the smeared introductory tones of "Zeta," the album locks into its first robotic groove on "Compress_ Fuse," a trademark Truise treatment with cascading synth lines and deep, sinister low-end bass stabs. Further down is the suspiciously bright "False Ascendancy," which lures listeners through a labyrinth of drum patterns and siren-like keys, all colliding into "Constant Fracture." The track pushes to the point of stress, reaching the album's apex with a punishing series of blows before fading to relief, where the beatless and contemplative "Trajectory" awaits. In 2019, Com Truise left his previous sci-fi narratives behind for the visceral Persuasion System, a markedly more human record, which now makes In Decay, Too something like a bookend to an era. One last transmission from coordinates unknown; a culminating exhale ahead of what's still yet to come.

Michel Baumann is one of Germany's most respected artists. You probably know him as Soulphiction, his iconic alias Jackmate and head chief of Philpot - a label pushing the sounds of dance music in every possible way since the beginning of 2000.

Now making his debut on the very first release from 18437 Records, after teasing everyone with his recent 12" for Matthew Herbert's Accidental label, Jackmate is back in full swing.

Opening track Modulate Nightdrive is a mind expanding, deep techno affair. Remember when techno had funk and made you sweat? This is it.
Next up is CubanLinx, a percussive machine voodoo exercise. Last but not least, Test Drive shows why Jackmate is still relevant as a producer and worthy of your record collection.
The recipe is simple, a drum machine, a few thick bass notes and whack on some chords - voila - timeless dance music delivered by Michel Baumann.

Label info:
18437 Records is a brand new label by focused on the outer fringes of house and techno.

Metal is a collaborative endeavor between Bristol and London artists Jamie Paton and Mike Bourne of Cage & Aviary and Teeth Of The Sea, respectively. A shared love for modular synthesis brought the two together in 2018 for a series of improvised live performances and the tracks featured on this EP were born from rehearsals for those sessions. What draws ESP to this music is its paradigmatic nature. The tracks are exercises in improvisation yet there is a level of control in which the performance slowly comes alive. Jam sessions allow for artistic gratification, a freedom of form often at the expense of the listener, but when artists set forth exacting parameters, there grows an opportunity for alternate forms of fulfillment on both sides of the experience. As is typical among stylistic prototypes, a reduction of tools frees the artist to narrow their focus and explore more singular modes of performance.

Jamie and Mike chose texture as a concept, namely Metal, and following the aforementioned methods, minimized their instrumentation toward the aesthetic representation of that element. Operating in a void without the convenience and advantages of the infinite tools we’re now accustomed to, they exhausted a short list of granular details, honing their concept to a fine point. Throughout these three iterations on the theme, we hear timbres that depict metal literally, but moreover we gain a view into the duo’s visceral attachment to its materiality, abstractions of its surfaces, and an overall transgression from conventional constructs of beauty. The idea is simple, designed with discipline to romanticize both the crudeness and elegance in one of Earth’s most industrious and enigmatic elements. Metal.

"Modern Dread is an album that sees Moore exploring personal demons whilst also voicing her concerns for the world at large, a daring exercise in micro versus macro that pays off richly in what is a dazzling step forward in artistry. It follows on from the critically hailed 2017 album “We Used to Bloom” and represents a delicious quantum leap in her career.
A unique blend of quixotic beats and introspective, sometimes harrowing songwriting which will undoubtedly stamp Moore as one of the most original talents we have around right now."