Cerca:exis of earth

Composed, produced, and arranged by Eartheater alone, Phoenix: Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin draws a path back to the primordial lava lake from which she first emerged, as it also testifies to the reincarnating resurrections the project has undergone over its first full decade of existence. While the album renews her focus on guitar performance and legible structure, Eartheater balances the unabashed prettiness of acoustic harmonic songs with the dissonant gestural embroidery of oblique instrumentals. Having fallen back in love with the idioms that first captivated her, she worked to crack open the techniques that had fossilized inside of her, while still seeking to apply the electro-alchemical knowledge she picked up along her journey. The result of a laborious revival in fire, Phoenix recontextualizes Eartheater’s combinatorial approach to production within her most confident abstractions, adjacent to some of her most direct songs to date.

Eartheater composed and workshopped most of Phoenix over a ten-week artist residency (FUGA) in Zaragoza, Spain, housed in a sprawling, cubic glass facility that looked out over wildflower-flecked mountains. Following an intensive period of recording and touring, the residency provided her with an unprecedented period of solitude in the small Spanish town. Her newfound sense of isolation ultimately became liberating, leading her to sidestep the crutches and steady grids inherent to electronic music, and to conceive pieces rooted in her guitar and her desire to perform with other players live.

Eartheater’s voice glows brighter than ever at the center of Phoenix’s arrangements — her familiar operatic highs are grounded by newly expanded velvety lows, leaping lucidly up and down octaves. Her intricate guitar work flits across baroque fingerpicked passages and latches into cyclical figures that meet her voice in lush harmonic progressions. From her own guitar parts, to the orchestral string arrangements she wrote for the Spanish conservatory group Ensemble de Camara, to the harp and violin lines performed by her close friends and collaborators Marilu Donovan and Adam Markiewicz of LEYA, Eartheater’s applications of acoustic instruments bring an extraordinary emotional emphasis to her compositions. Phoenix prepares for a future where electronic sound — or even electricity itself — isn’t guaranteed, but where her music could still come to life with a group of hands dexterously winding across instruments against the light of the fire. Eartheater drew inspiration for Phoenix from geological imagery, whose turbulence and potential for genesis mirror the trajectory of her own life and relationships. The album’s instrumental pieces directly reference these moments of upheaval, colliding audio of volcano and lightning storms with resplendent string and vocal arrangements. “Volcano” looks out over the album from its peak at the center, its tectonic plates colliding in towering melodies and layers of vocal harmonies, as piano accents crest and cascade down the mountainside. When Eartheater sings, “I’m still building mountains underground,” she is trying to reconcile the pinnacles of her ambition with the comforts of a simple existence buried beneath the surface. “Diamond in the Bedrock” finds her admiring the gemstone forming under intense pressure inside her, but rejecting the romantic promise that the diamond signifies, choosing instead to escape a relationship that has come to stifle her.

With the album’s subtitle, Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin, Eartheater imagines being tempered to a state of perfect equilibrium, suspended between melting and freezing, where fire could streak across her body and appear as a crystalline blush. This image captures the tension at the heart of the Eartheater project, as she decides how best to distill her passion and render it cool to the touch; to find beauty in simple pleasure, while keeping one eye fixed on the peaks that loom in the horizon. The album is mixed by Kiri Stensby and mastered by Heba Kadry, featuring photography by Daniel Sannwald.

Mort Garson’s road to cool cultural caché and the sublimity of Plantasia meant a decades’ long journey through an underworld of sophisticated, international, string-laced dreck (i.e., your great-grandparents’ record collection) to arrive at Music from Patch Cord Productions, this set of queasy-listening you now hold.

Music from Patch Cord Productions shows that Garson’s knack was to exist in both worlds, super-commercial and waaay out. He cut delirious minute-long blasts for commercials (as to whether or not they were actually ever aired remains unknown) and spacecraft-hovering études. Were there really account managers out there in the early ’70s that gave the greenlight to these commercial compositions which seemed to anticipate everyone from John Carpenter to Suicide? What were these campaigns actually for, Soylent Green? Regardless, Mort’s jingle work laid the groundwork for the future. As Robert Moog himself noted: “The jingles were important because they domesticated the sound.” Via Garson’s wizardry, the synthesizer transcended novelty to ubiquity and dominance.

Other curios and questions abound. How did Garson’s arrangement work for Arthur Prysock’s satiny body worship album This Is My Beloved transmogrify into the body-snatcher pulses of “This is My Beloved”? Are the two pieces even related? What is the IATA code for the airport of “Realizations of an Aeropolis”? What denomination is the “Cathedral of Pleasure”? If “Son of Blob” sounds like a hallucinatory melted ice cream truck theme, what on earth does Blob’s father sound like? Every sound wrangled out of that Moog by Garson pushes things further and further out.

Of course, these are all questions that may never get answers, as Garson wasn’t the most organized modern day composer, busy as he was conjuring strange new realms with his circuit boards and synths. He worked and wrote right up until his death in 2008, his daughter and Sacred Bones still going through all of the material left behind. He wouldn’t live to see it, but his renaissance was just around the corner, the seeds that had been scattered in record bins around the world suddenly coming to bear fruit. Take a bite!

Gitkin's music exists somewhere between primal, rootsy memory and distant exotic yearning — A dusty bordertown where the familiar blends imperceptibly into the enchantingly foreign.

After a long and fruitful run as a bandleader with relentlessly touring party-rockers Pimps Of Joytime and a Grammy-nominated country blues collaboration with Cedric Burnside, multi-instrumentalist Brian J set out to "explore tonalities I'd never messed with," as he puts it. It was a release from "having to write lyrics or involve my voice," he notes, and so the (mostly) instrumental sound of Gitkin came into being.

Reviews of Gitkin's first LP grappled with descriptors, tagging it vaguely as "cinematic" and comparing it favorably with Khruangbin. True, the music is largely wordless, emotionally evocative, and guitar driven. But it possesses an alluring alchemy all its own.

Gitkin's first release, 2018's well-received Five Star Motel, amply demonstrated his ease with earthy funk and comfortably-cut rhythm. On his new full-length release Safe Passage, the itinerant guitar slinger broadens his already rich palette with melodies informed by Greek and Middle Eastern modalities, Peruvian Chicha and Tuareg Saharan guitar styles. No gimmick, this juxtaposition of gut-bucket blues and funk low-end with unexpectedly twisting lead phrases highlights the intense flavors found in each savory ingredient.

Recorded at his home studio in New Orleans, Safe Passage showcases a new batch of immediately engaging, repeatedly satisfying cuts, ranging from surf exotica ("Cat Nip") to raunchy roadhouse stompers ("Fools Gold" and "The Drive") to dreamy vocal cuts "Foot Steps" and "Hold On" to the floating finale of "Safe Passage."

Gitkin's production radiates character and warmth, leaning on soft-focus vintage mics, dubby spring reverbs and the quirks of a tape console. Further enhancing the intimate vibe are guests like veteran Chauncey Yearwood (congas) and New Orleans local "Spug" Smith, who provides a sousaphone low-end on the cumbia-not-cumbia "Spug Life." Carol C lends her striking voice to three tracks, including the strutting single "De La."

Safe Passage will be released by Wonderwheel on September 18th, 2020 and will be available on vinyl, CD and digitally.

Videosphere, the debut album by Kompakt’s latest signing, the London-based artist Lake Turner (aka Andrew Halford), swoons into focus with “The Sunbird”, a teasing drift of lilting, ambient tones, riding out a submerged piston-pulse rhythm. Across its brief 109 seconds, it manages to traverse evocative terrain – something mythopoetic, something both humble and grandiose, a glimpse of the other behind the sky’s curtain. “I wanted to conjure up something resembling an ancient ceremony or death procession,” Turner nods. “Like a hymn to the surroundings of a faraway hill.” It’s both sky-bound and earthen, a ritual incantation to call in the music of the spheres.

Turner was introduced to the Kompakt family by his sometime collaborator Yannis Philippakis of Foals. He’d previously made music in post-punk and indie groups Great Eskimo Hoax and Trophy Wife, but Videosphere is the first time he’s fully articulated his own vision of electronic music, aside from one limited lathe-cut 12”, 2018’s Prime Mover EP, on Algebra. The lush ambient-disco-techno dreams of Videosphere were constructed and completed in his London studio and at his parents’ arable and sheep farm in Worcestershire, which might help explain the hazy, unhurried pastoralism of the album.

“There was a slight bittersweetness in finishing the record (in Worcestershire) as my parents were in the middle of selling my childhood home,” he sighs, before quipping, “on the plus, I ended up shearing a lot of sheep over the summer.” A student of archaeology and ancient history, Turner is no doubt carefully attuned to the twisting cogs of history and memory, and it’s no surprise that Videosphere has a nostalgic, melancholic cast; much of its beauty rests in the way it tugs, gently, at the heart strings – see the tear-stained cheeks of the lush, dappled “Honeycomb”, or the sweetly sad electro-roundelay of “No Way Back Forever.”

It’s not all drift-dream hypnosis, though – Videosphere is very much grounded in the now. ““No Way Back Forever” is a nod to the linear nature of time,” Turner explains by way of example, “and the tipping point of the world climate crisis that scientists have now declared.” Jayne Powell’s vocals are sent spinning through the song, wound like candyfloss; she takes centre stage on the techno hymnal title track, too. Throughout, there’s a sense of forward movement, despite the life stasis we find ourselves collectively bound by in mid-2020; there’s also a yearning for the communal, for community, that’s captured in the album title, a nod to an object Turner encountered at London’s Geoffrey Museum, “a television set in the shape of a spaceman’s helmet from the 1970s.”

“The vision I loosely had was to make an electronic record that had a communal warmth and almost ceremonial or ritual feel. I wanted to examine the relationship of our archaic minds in the trappings of the modern world,” Turner concludes. “What the Videosphere also symbolizes for me is the oneness of humanity and community, prevailing.”
Eröffnet wird "Videosphere", das Debütalbum von Kompakts jüngstem Signing, dem in London ansässigen Künstler Lake Turner (alias Andrew Halford), mit "The Sunbird" - einem herausfordernden Strom aus Ambient Sounds, die zu schweben scheinen, um sich dann in einen subtilen, maschinellen Rhythmus zu verwandeln. In gerade mal 109 Sekunden gelingt es dem Stück, ein gewaltiges Terrain abzuschreiten - etwas Mythopoetisches, bescheiden und grandios zugleich, gibt uns eine Ahnung davon, was sich hinter dem Himmel verbirgt. "Ich wollte etwas heraufbeschwören, das einer alten Zeremonie oder Totenprozession ähnelt", sagt Turner, "wie eine Hymne an die Umgebung eines weit entfernten Hügels." Himmlisch und irdisch zugleich, eine rituelle Beschwörung von Sphärenmusik.

Der Kompakt Label-Familie wurde Turner von dessen zeitweiligen Mitarbeiter Yannis Philippakis (Foals) vorgestellt. Zuvor hatte er in den Post Punk- und Indie-Bands Great Eskimo Hoax und Trophy Wife gespielt. Bis auf eine limitierte lathe-cut 12", der "Prime Mover EP" auf Algebra von 2018, artikuliert Turner mit "Videosphere" zum ersten Mal seine eigene Vision von elektronischer Musik.

Die üppigen Ambient-Disco-Techno-Träume von "Videosphere" hat Turner in seinem Londoner Studio und auf der Schaffarm seiner Eltern in Worcestershire produziert, was den nebulösen, gemächlichen und beinahe pastoralen Charakter des Albums erklären könnte.

"Es gab einen bittersüßen Moment als ich mit der Platte (in Worcestershire) fertig geworden war, da meine Eltern gerade dabei waren, das Haus meiner Kindheit zu verkaufen", seufzt er, bevor er witzelt, "das Positive war, dass ich im Laufe des Sommers eine Menge Schafe geschoren habe". Als Student der Archäologie und der Geschichte des Altertums ist Turner zweifellos mit den sich unaufhörlich drehenden Rädern der Geschichte und der daran geknüpften Erinnerungen vertraut, und es ist keine Überraschung, dass "Videosphere" einen nostalgischen, melancholischen Einschlag hat; viel von seiner Schönheit liegt in der Art und Weise, wie es einem sanft ans Herz geht - die Tränen benetzten Wangen von "Honeycomb" oder der ambivalente Elektro-Reigen von "No Way Back Forever".

Trotz allem hypnotischen Driften und Träumen - Videosphere ist sehr stark im Jetzt verankert. "`No Way Back Forever`ist eine Anspielung auf die lineare Natur der Zeit", erklärt Turner beispielhaft, "und auf den Wendepunkt der globalen Klimakrise, den Wissenschaftler gerade ausgerufen haben". Jayne Powells Gesang wirbelt dabei wie Zuckerwatte durch den Song und steht auch im Mittelpunkt des technoid hymnischen Titelstücks. Überall ist ein Gefühl der Vorwärtsbewegung zu spüren, trotz der Stagnation, in der wir uns Mitte 2020 kollektiv befinden; trotzdem existiert eine Sehnsucht nach dem Gemeinsamen, nach Gemeinschaft, die im Albumtitel eingefangen ist - eine Referenz an ein Objekt, dem Turner im Londoner Geoffrey-Museum begegnete, "ein Fernsehgerät in Form eines Raumfahrerhelms aus den 1970er Jahren".

„Die lose Vision, die ich hatte, bestand darin, eine elektronische Platte zu machen, die eine soziale Wärme und eine fast zeremonielle oder rituelle Atmosphäre ausstrahlt. Ich wollte die Beziehung unseres archaischen Geistes in den Fallstricken der modernen Welt untersuchen", so Turner abschließend. "Was `Videosphere` für mich auch symbolisiert, ist die Einheit von Menschlichkeit und Gemeinschaft, die am Ende obsiegt".

Steve Von Till has charted an extraordinary musical path over the last several decades, from his main duties as singer and guitarist of the boundary-breaking Neurosis to the psychedelic music of his Harvestman project and the gothic Americana he's released under his own name. But No Wilderness Deep Enough is truly like nothing you've ever heard from him before—an album that's devastatingly beautiful and overwhelming in its scope, reminiscent of the tragic ecstasy of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' recent work as well as the borderless ambient music pioneered by Brian Eno, late composer Jóhann Jóhannsson's glacial compositions, and the electronic mutations of Coil. 

FOR FANS OF : MARK LANEGAN/MICHAEL GIRA/NICK CAVE.

Over the course of recent time, an aching, growing void has developed where our normal way of life has resided. Uncertainty abounds, and Steve Von Till's No Wilderness Deep Enough provides a voice of existential wisdom and experience to offer comfort and perspective in an era of uncharted territory. These six pieces of music shape a hallucinatory landscape of sound that plumbs the depths of the natural world's mysteries and uncertainties—questions that have vexed humanity since the dawn of time asked anew amidst a backdrop that's as haunting as it is holistic.

Von Till’s fifth solo album is a swirling and iridescent blend of ambient, neo-classical, and gothic Americana that swan-dives into the darkness of modern life, with the resulting emergence a sonic document of rural psychedelia that transcends the physical world—towards a greater spiritual acceptance that connects naturalism, spiritualism, and the corporeal form.

With a foundation of simple melancholy piano chord progressions embellished with mellotron, cello, french horn and electronic treatments Von Till's scorched ache spreads across the terrain of No Wilderness Deep Enough like a brushfire, adding a tactile level to his sonic creation as well as an inviting level of friction to the burning beauty painted across the album's framework.

With a foundation of simple melancholy piano chord progressions that came to fruition during jetlagged nights in his wife’s childhood home in Germany, No Wilderness Deep Enough was further embellished with mellotron and electronic treatments in Von Till’s home studio in North Idaho.  Viewing the emerging result as an ambient instrumental album, he consulted friend and engineer Randall Dunn (Marissa Nadler, Earth) about adding live cello and french horn and piano in a proper studio.  After enlisting Brent Arnold on cello and Aaron Korn on french horn, he challenged Von Till to sing over the music and make it his next solo album—which is exactly what happened, with final work being completed at Tucker Martine’s (the Decemberists, Neko Case) Flora Recording and Playback in Portland.

Sublime, unique, sexy and peculiar unreleased scores by electronic and jazz pioneer Ron Geesin, made for the sublime, unique, sexy and peculiar films by maverick director Stephen Dwoskin. There. we’ve said it. And if you have not heard of one or either of these two dudes it doesn’t really matter. Geesin made great music and worked with Pink Floyd. Dwoskin made odd films, most of them are in the BFI permanent collection. They are great and a bit strange.
These superb unreleased soundtracks come from a fascinating, progressive and important period in British film history. They represent an intriguing collaboration between the lively Ron Geesin from Scotland and the American Stephen Dwoskin, who both met in London.
Musically they are minimal, charismatic and quite groundbreaking. Here is the story…
HISTORY:
Steve Dwoskin arrived in London in 1964, aged 25, with several 16mm films in his trunk, shot in the cold-water flats of Greenwich Village. He had been on the fringe of the Factory scene, and some of his films starred Beverly Grant, ‘the queen of the underground’. But they had scarcely been seen, and they didn’t have soundtracks. For almost a year they stayed in the trunk, and stayed silent. Then he met Ron Geesin, somewhere around Portobello Road.
‘Slept last night, completely dressed after working over 12 hours on sound tracks at Ron’s,’ wrote Dwoskin in his diary for 29 July 1965. ‘My films are not anywhere near being anything. I need more energy, more concise and positive ideas and less inhibition. And of course space, money and people.’ Dwoskin, who taught and practised graphic design by day, had recently decided to stay in London beyond the term of the Fulbright scholarship that had brought him there.
Ron, living with Frankie in a basement flat in Elgin Crescent – they would marry the next year, with Dwoskin as best man – was about to leave the Original Downtown Syncopators, the trad jazz band he had joined aged seventeen-and-a-half, and was trying to go solo. On stage he would make vigorous use of piano and banjo; at home Frankie had bought him a new kind of instrument – a tape recorder. ‘Soon I had one tape recorder, two tape recorders, three tape recorders.’

Ron, wrote Dwoskin in his unpublished autobiography, ‘loved to record, and to cut and splice the quarter-inch recording tape to make new sounds. This triggered in me the idea of getting back to my films and finishing them’. Soon he was living in a dank basement in Denbigh Road, a few minutes’ walk from Elgin Crescent. Ron’s soundtracks for Dwoskin’ films, recorded in the Geesins’ flat, encompassed Ron’s very eclectic range of styles – madcap piano and fretted banjo as well as tape manipulation.
Aside from Ron’s soundtracks, some of which belong to films that no longer exist (including Pot Boiler), Frankie would act in one of the films that Dwoskin either lost or never finished during these years. He was disabled, having contracted polio as a child, and Ron and Frankie were both carers and collaborators; Ron had met him when he was struggling into his car.
There was no London equivalent to the underground film scene that Dwoskin had known in New York, and his films remained unseen until such a scene began to come into being, in the autumn of 1966. Some of them made their debut at the Mercury Theatre, near Notting Hill Gate, that September. Dwoskin wrote that Alone, starring Zelda Nelson (from Ron Rice’s Chumlum), and Chinese Checkers, with Beverly Grant and Dwoskin’s friend Joan Adler, went over best.
Soon both Dwoskin and Geesin became involved in the nascent London Film-Makers’ Co-op, which put on screenings in Better Books on Charing Cross Road – ‘if you can call them screenings,’ Ron recalls; ‘I’d call it fifteen blokes in various stages of disarray, peering through the smoke’. One or more of the films had been ‘striped’ with magnetic audiotape; with others ‘we had no means of direct syncing to the picture, so he started the film and I started the tape recorder’.
In the same autumn, Dwoskin moved into a flat almost opposite the Geesins on Elgin Crescent. More collaborations followed, including Naissant, on which Gavin Bryars, whom Geesin had met during a stint on the northern club circuit with novelty act Dr Crock and His Crackpots, played double bass.
Around the end of 1967 Geesin released his first solo LP, A Raise of Eyebrows, and Dwoskin won recognition the Fourth Experimental Film Competition, aka EXPRMNTL 4, an occasional film festival staged at Knokke-le-Zoute in Belgium. By now the films had optical soundtracks.
It was only after this that Dwoskin completed his first ‘British’ films, including Me Myself and I, with Barbara Gladstone, an American dancer who had appeared in Barbara Rubin’s Christmas on Earth, and with whom Dwoskin and Geesin had at one point devised a stage show, never produced. For Moment, a single-shot film, Geesin provided his most experimental score yet. At the time of its debut in 1970, Dwoskin and the Geesins were sharing a house in Ladbroke Grove.
By then, Ron was working with Pink Floyd, and soon afterwards he and Frankie moved out to the country, to be replaced by Bryars both in the house and as Dwoskin’s principal collaborator.
Until now these scores have remained part of the Geesin Archive and have never been issued.

The Oystercatcher is the first collaborative LP from Cucina Povera (Maria Rossi) and ELS (Edward Simpson)

Recorded in London over two days, hours' worth of improvisations have been edited down to form these six tracks.

A fragile interplay is at work between Maria's drifting vocals and the ominous churn of Edward's modular synth. Each sonic element takes a turn at leading the way.

The opening track 'Mantle' is formed from sparse, monolithic electronics, woven gently with a thread of vocals. In the closing track 'Eon' Maria's voice shepherds spontaneous bursts of sounds, almost Rave-like if order were imposed, through 15 minutes of turmoil and resplendent until the end.

Maria's vocals make their own trails amongst the noise, bringing to mind the the exploratory language from Ursula K. Le Guin's album 'Music and Poetry from the Kesh', recalling the same understated mystery.

The overall effect of this collaboration is a completely unique creation albeit within a recognisable lineage of predecessors.

The artwork reflects the vision of these two artists, collaged together. Both images are from a trip to Helsinki. Edward's photograph of Tulips caught after dark are reviled by a flash. Maria's seemingly abstract drawing is a graphite rubbing taken from a granite slab of a pavement somewhere in Kallio. Together the two images represent two different methods for capturing a city's haptic landscape.

The album moves with a feeling of transience, which is no surprise given that the idea to collaborate was formed in Helsinki, realised in London and edited together in Rotterdam.

The Oystercatcher tells a fragile tale, one that spins out into the unknown. A cold union of voice and machine, still tentative and probing, learning to co-exist. A kind of fundamental shift whereby shared moments have been turned to sound.

The Oystercatcher is a bird that can freely travel between the earth, sea and sky. The motif is taken from a Tove Jansson short story. A dead bird washes ashore, two different versions of events are presented to how the bird came to die. The album feels like two different stories being presented on top of one another but ultimately coming to the same tragic conclusion.

Cucina Povera is Maria Rossi - Vocals
ELS is Edward Simpson - Synthesisers
Recorded in London across two days during the Summer of 2019
Mastered by Russell Haswell

After years of searching for the elusive sensation of heart-rending beauty, Avondlicht releases his debut album on 3 April, 2020 on all digital platforms. The LP will be out on 8/4.

Hyperromance is the culmination of an emotional and geographical journey, as Belgian producer Matthias Dziwak sought to find and examine idealised moments of true romance within the less-than-romantic reality of existence.

Having already achieved a great deal with his initial run of EPs for labels like PIAS, Fog Mountain and Unit Delta Plus, Antwerp-based Dziwak became obsessed with the concept of Hyperromance – “a moment or idea so heavily romanticised that it seems impossible to be really experienced.” The melancholic feeling it sparked in his heart set him off on a journey through Argentina, Chile and Uruguay, via a month-long stay in Amsterdam and finally to settling for six months in Portugal. Throughout this time he made field recordings and began writing pieces that would feed into the finished album. Along the way he found a full spectrum of moments that allowed him to view the world in a truly romantic way, from the majesty of the Andean mountains and the snow falling on the Amsterdamse Grachten to encountering love in Lisbon. At other times he found himself lost, adrift and heartbroken, pulled back to Earth, as is the cyclical nature of the human experience.

Musically, Hyperromance’s grapple with day-to-day reality and rose-tinted fantasy is embodied through the contrast between organic instrumentation and high-definition electronics. Dziwak began writing his songs as simple piano pieces, which then transferred to a staple of synths and sound processing as they became more wholly defined. Sonically, the sound sweeps from modern classical and bombastic electronica to evocative ambient, even touching on jungle and techno along the way. Rather than being defined by genre associations though, Hyperromance is shaped by the swooning beauty of its composition, as the music pulls you in and out of richly rendered moments of joy and pain following Dziwak on his personal journey of truth and beauty. With visceral life experiences woven into the fabric of the record, Hyperromance is expressive on the most intimate level. It’s a record that dazzles with searing bright wonderment and casts creeping shadows as the time passes – a journey as nuanced as life itself, elevated by romance and grounded by reality, beautifully told by Avondlicht.

Kamasi Washington's wide-reaching double album Heaven & Earth arrives on Young Turks. Much like his previous releases, Heaven & Earth once again finds Kamasi setting out to expand the minds and horizons of all who encounter his music. Recorded as a double album, this expanded canvas gives his trademark tones the opportunity to offer a wider than ever before selection of fully immersive, freestyling psychedelic jazz that carries a distinctly spiritual edge.In an instant, Heaven and Earth really burrows deeper into the external cosmos that we were left circling around the edge of with his debut long-player, The Epic (released in 2015 via Flying Lotus's Brainfeeder label), yet it also carries us further into the distance of the deeply cinematic overtones that his debut Young Turks EP, Harmony of Difference pointed us in the direction of. While it is both instantly recognisable as a Kamasi Washington recording, Heaven and Earth's luxurious running time matched with a searching narrative sees Kamasi breaking out of any sounds or scenes he may be associated with, smoothly transcending into new, dynamic and sonically experimental levels and counterpoints of his now widely praised signature sound.
Washington convened his band, The Next Step, as well as members of the long running collective The West Coast Get Down at Henson Studios in Los Angeles to record the 16 tracks on Heaven & Earth. The music was composed, written and arranged by Washington, with new arrangements of jazz and bebop legend Freddie Hubbard's 'Hubtones' and iconic kung fu film theme 'Fists of Fury,' as well as one song by bandmate Ryan Porter. Thundercat, Terrace Martin, Ronald Bruner, Jr., Cameron Graves, Brandon Coleman, Miles Mosley, Patrice Quinn, Tony Austin and many more contribute to the album.Stretching out at two and a half hours of entirely newly recorded music, Kamasi Washington paints a vision of Heaven and Earth that is spread across two sections with eight movements apiece. It sees him wrestling with and attempting to make sense of the meaning of both Heaven and Earth within his mind and his place within the wider universe as a whole, with the Heaven side representing the world Kamasi sees inwardly, the world that is a part of him, while the Earth side represents the world he sees outwardly, the world that he is a part of. An existential experiment with saxophones that's set to take you on a journey that is as widely thrilling as it is deeply searching.

We’ve worked with Ian Willson to reissue his insanely good, self-released West Coast classic “Straight From The Heart”. Privately pressed and originally released in 1985, this is the only album Ian ever put out. A magical blend of AOR/sophisticated funk/synth-boogie/spiritual jazz and modern soul, it’s a spellbinding record of many colours.

You might already know “Straight From The Heart” for the dubby-disco paranoid-balearic anthem “Four In The Morning”, and it’s easy to assume this is probably just another one of those one-track LPs. But trust us when we say it’s definitely not. This is an impressively slick record from start to finish, just ask those modern soul DJs and AOR collectors who’ve managed to find a rare copy in the last 35 years. It could’ve (should’ve?) been number 1 all over the world back in 1985.

Album opener “Think About It” is all sorts of right. It’s emotional. It’s tops-off. It’s funk in its purest form. And take the proto-modern-funk of the title track (half Dâm-Funk / half Dâd-Funk).

The shimmering, spiritual Bossa-Jazz of “If I Were You” serves as the album’s soaring centrepiece. A gorgeous suite of Cosmic vibes to get Gilles frothing, it sounds like nothing else on the record which makes sense given that it was recorded a couple of years earlier, and is the only track on the LP that wasn’t recorded in Ian’s own studio.

Side B opens with the propulsive ode to love that is “Two Is Better Than One”. Wonderfully sparse when it needs to be, it’s also richly percussive and that special kind of California-warm. Frenetic, speaker smashing synth and horn workout “Funk Invasion” dares you not to dance and “A Game Called Love” is heavily indebted to Prince with its lush, deep funk stylings. The sweeping sax-drenched instrumental “Song For Katelyn” is head-nod, beat-heavy AOR for that melancholic magic hour we spend our days longing for. It all adds up to the ultimate BBQ record.

Almost all of “Straight From The Heart” was recorded over a few months between 1983 and 1984 on Ian’s brand new Otari 8 track in the Oakland, California studio he built just the year before. Only “If I Were You” was recorded elsewhere, at Bay Sound in 1982.

A “full time poor musician” at the time (and he says he still is), Ian produced the album himself and played all of the instruments, except for guitar. That’s Peter Fujii you can hear, his good friend from growing up together.

Tower Of Power, Average White Band, Earth Wind & Fire and Stevie Wonder was the list of influences Ian gave us when we asked. No wonder the record’s just so easy on the ears.

And why did he put the record out himself? Simple, he had no idea how to go about getting a record deal.

When we first got in touch with Ian he had no idea that “Straight From The Heart” had become something of a cult record, let alone that there were those of us out there that thought the album deserved to be pressed again. The original tapes have long since been lost so this re-issue was only made possible by remastering Ian’s one and only pristine copy of the finished LP.

The end results have been worth the work, including reproducing the original’s unmistakeable sleeve. Ian Willson’s “Straight From The Heart” is yet another Be With release that will find an easy home on the shelves of those of you who up to now have only dreamt of finding a copy and also those of you who who never knew it even existed.

London based producer Christian Piers has a decade of production experience and a discography that spans house, techno and drum and bass. He is a long-term friend of 17 Steps, and became the second artist to release on the label after label heads Dusky back in 2015. Acclaimed releases on Curle and with Leon Vynehall as Laszlo Dancehall have sustained Christians' reputation as a truly versatile producer.

With ‘Virus’, his debut LP under this alias, Christian puts himself forward an exceptional and compelling voice in UK techno, drawing on his experience in drum and bass and breaks, a sample heavy hip-hop inspired approach to production and a dubbed out, industrial techno aesthetic.

Opener ‘Extrinsic’ lays the foundations, combining cavernous drones and rattling breaks over submerged kicks, conjuring up images of chasmal warehouses, dusty basements and rattling window frames. Elsewhere delay soaked stabs bounce off combative breaks. A dialogue between Christians’ influences ensues that’s as captivating as it is individual.

Christian creates passages of intense energy without breaking a sweat. Cold atmospheres are navigated with an unhurried authority and confidence that prevents them from becoming desolate. Behind the gritty haze and forceful bassweight Christian hides the playful, agile rhythms that have become his signature – percussive sounds stumble and roll in the background, whip like snares slice through the fog.

‘Virus’ is an exhilarating ride; right up to the final bars of the teasing, anti-climactic dancefloor weapon ‘Resource Depletion’. The infinite rising tones of the closer are a bold and forward looking statement of intent from an artist whose evolution continues to unfold.

The new album 'Aesthesis' from Shapednoise aka Sicilian artist Nino Pedone is out in November 2019 on Numbers.
Over the nine tracks and thirty seven minutes, there’s a controlled collision of noise and metal with rave and hardcore. Pedone’s penchant for the peak energies of gritty techno and modern rap/trap bleed through, with earth-shattering blocks of bass and beats conveyed within his practice of sonic sculpture. ‘Aesthesis’ melts these sounds down, evolving them into something new of his own - a complex, hybrid being designed to be played loud. The first listen, CRx Aureal, is one of the most arresting cuts from the record: a nightmarish thrill embracing a sense of constant movement, with intense shards of sound ricocheting and morphing, forged together through a series of metallic refrains. This flirtation with the extremes of sound has engulfed Shapednoise’s entire creative output and lifestyle - from his albums and EPs over the last decade, to his two labels Cosmo Rhythmatic and REPITCH, having recently dropped critically acclaimed releases by King Midas Sound, Shackleton & VTSS. Pedone describes ‘Aesthesis’ as “informed by a set of key elements that intwine all the tracks together, like steps in a long research process. It is intended as a sensory experience where the senses act as an interface, sound as space.” His experimentation with unorthodox rhythmic structures and radical cinematic design reveals actions grounded in direct experience, but “inspired by a kind of speculative realism”. In seeking to master the wild heights of noise and the weight of subsonic frequencies, Shapednoise aims to “generate a sense of unreal-yet-tangible space and time, where the physicality of the music builds up a place that exists between people and objects, rather than the other way around.”

A series of artistic collaborations are heard throughout the album - from the caustic R&B of album opener 'Intriguing (In The End)' which features vocals from multimedia artist E. Jane's alter ego MHYSA (of NON & Halcyon Veil), to Justin K Broadrick (founding member of Godflesh and ZONAL) on 'Blaze', and album closer 'Moby Dick'; a collaboration with Scottish legend Drew McDowall (ex-Coil and Psychic TV member), and Rabit (founder of Halcyon Veil).

'Esoteric, modal and deep jazz from the undergound, 1968-77'

Jazzman Records presents the sound of the unsung musicians who – in the midst of the Vietnam War and the fallout of the Civil Rights struggle – created some of the most beautiful Spiritual and meditative music of the era. Sometimes funky, sometimes mellow, but always trying to say something about the world in which we live.
Existing completely under the critical radar and largely ignored or unknown by music fans and critics alike, most of the musicians featured in this album won't be familiar to even the most seasoned aficionado. Their records, frequently turned down by distributors and record stores, saw little attention when first released - and have seen even less since. But in this era of musical apathy, where so many music junkies look to the past for their musical fix, we have re-discovered hidden, obscure and esoteric jazz musicians who looked to the four corners of the earth - and beyond - for inspiration. Here we evaluate Spiritual Jazz – music that is a snapshot of the era after Coltrane, a time which saw the evolution of an underground jazz that spoke about the reform of the soul, the reform of the spirit, and the reform of society: a music which was local and international at once, which was a personal journey and a political statement, and which was religious and secular in one non-contradictory breath.
The music on this album reflects the social and historical forces at work during the closedown of the '60s dream; music made by close-knit collectives and individual visionaries, by prisoners and eccentrics, by mystics and political radicals. It includes music by acknowledged masters, and moments of brilliance by unsung figures known to us from just one or two recordings. It is the jazz music of America in the age of civil rights, brutal repression, political assassination and war; a music that would guarantee the survival of the spiritual dimension in a society that was angry and traumatized, but nevertheless had seen hope of better days to come.

Third studio album from French kraut / experimental / psychedelic act Le Réveil des Tropiques after two opus on Music Fear Satan. LP with obi-strip.

After almost 10 years of existence, two studio albums and a series of live recordings, the exploration by Le Réveil Des Tropiques of the psychedelic worlds takes this time the form of a hybrid record mixing recordings from different eras and contexts: scenes, studios, abandoned factory or even in the middle of nature.

Conceived as an experience of multiple lives, the arrangement of these elements by superimpositions or contrasts echoes the different experiences of the soul as well as the encounters that each makes (or re-made) during his passage on Earth and that does not not only due to chance ...

Named in reference to this mechanical device to synchronize several displacements, and illustrated by Valentin Pinel through the reinterpretation of an engraving of alchemists of the seventeenth century, "L'Arbre à Cames" will lead the listener between several grids of readings that he will be free to interpret and apprehend both as a heterogeneous entity and as a single piece.

Jacob Long’s reductionist rhythmic ambient vessel, Earthen Sea, ebbs towards a more purely elemental state on his second excursion for Kranky, Grass and Trees.
He describes the creative process as one of “simplifying things as much as possible,” designing uncluttered spaces traced in nothing but breath, field recordings, and “sounds that could be played by hand but weren’t.”
The results feel decentralized but dynamic, low-lit evocations of ambiguous nocturnal environments – dub techno disassembled into stray pulses and spare parts. It’s a music both interior and infinite, languorous yet transformative, made in the outer boroughs of a metropolis but existing in its own liminal wilderness.
Long’s vision is a grounding one, rooted in the physical body but attuned to larger currents: “In response to living in a fairly hectic city, and at a very hectic time for the world at large, creating something more drawn back and restrained felt appropriate.
track listing:1. Existing Closer or Deeper in Space 2. Window, Skin, and Mirror 3. Spatial Ambiguity4. A Blank Slate 5. Living Space and Usually 6. Shallow, Shadowless 7. Less and Less

Alt. folker Will Oldham - better known as Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - is set to drop a joint record with gently psychedelic crew Trembling Bells

Just four years after their debut album Carbeth, Trembling Bells are amassing a formidable body of work at a startling velocity. Just twelve months after the release of their critically acclaimed third album The Constant Pageant, the Glasgow quartet return to share the billing with a similarly restless creative spirit. A few thousand miles separate Will Oldham and Trembling Bells' drummer and principal songwriter Alex Neilson, but their stories intersect as far back as 2005, when the young Leeds-raised Neilson found himself playing drums on Alasdair Roberts' No Earthly Man, with Oldham producing. In time, a friendship between mentor and student became one between two kindred musicians. Neilson augmented his work with free-psych-drone practitioners Directing Hand by playing with the Bonnie 'Prince' Billy band. The drummer's eagerness to experience new epiphanies yielded unforgettable memories. In Big Sur, he recalls, 'we took mushrooms at midnight, then visited a natural hot spring built into the dramatic cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The stars were as vivid as frozen fireworks.' All of which is worth dwelling on, because without that background of mutual openness and empathy, it's hard to imagine The Marble Downs existing.

Neilson recalls a conversation about a 'collaboration' in the summer of 2010, though stresses that it 'was nothing too formal at first'. By the end of that year, a limited-edition seven-inch New Year's Eve Is The Loneliest Night of the Year showed what an inspired match the vocals of Trembling Bells singer Lavinia Blackwall and Will Oldham made. The cut-glass precision of the classically-trained student of medieval music and the worldly, careworn tones of Oldham created an unlikely chemistry. It must have seemed that way to Neilson too. He set about assembling a cache of songs with the purpose of further harnessing that chemistry. The result is an album that has, once again, redrafted the boundaries of what Trembling Bells can achieve together. Indeed, genre-lines aren't terribly helpful this time around. Yes, Trembling Bells' love affair with traditional music remains a constant — most emphatically so on the unaccompanied Blackwall/Oldham two-hander, My Husband's Got No Courage In Him. Then there is Blackwall's musical setting of Dorothy Parker's poem Excursion Into Assonance — and the thorough-going new-found classicism of Neilson's increasingly assured songwriting. Albeit delivered with Trembling Bells' rain-lashed sense of abandon, Love Is A Velvet Noose sounds like a standard of sorts — a warped consequence of Neilson's increasing fascination with the songbooks of Cole Porter and Hoagy Carmichael. 'I'm not saying I stand any chance of emulating them,' he adds, 'but the appreciation is definitely there.'

The knowledge that Oldham and Blackwall would be sharing centre-stage on The Marble Downs gave Neilson extra impetus to flex his songwriting muscles. I Can Tell You're Leaving finds both vocalists on irresistible form, dissecting their dying relationship with no heed to the other's feelings. 'You treat me like a child,' sings Oldham. 'I need a man,' she responds, barely catching breath. 'Now like Merle Haggard, you'll see the fighting side of me,' he later promises. 'I guess that's one of the lighter moments on the album,' ponders Neilson, 'I was trying to get a Planet Waves-era Bob Dylan feel there, with the piano and walking bassline.'

Here and elsewhere, the band — Blackwall, Neilson, bassist Simon Shaw and guitarist Mike Hastings — has never sounded more psychically attuned to one-other. On the slow-reveal sonic establishing shot of I Made A Date (With An Open Vein), two minutes of manic modal chaos elapses before Oldham takes the narrative reins of a majestic call-and-response folk-rock epic. The electrifying free-folk portent of Riding — a revival of the Palace Brothers classic — is no less compelling, calling to mind the words of broadcaster Stuart Maconie when he praised Trembling Bells for their ability to invoke simultaneously 'the charm of folk music and the power of rock.' Ditto Ain't Nothing Wrong With A Little Longing, in which Neilson slams down a four-to-the-floor beat over a synergy of demonic krautrock keys and a dialogue between Oldham and Blackwall that scales Nancy & Lee levels of romantic intrigue.

With nine songs gone and one remaining, the album's sonic undulations find an arresting denouement in the form of an inspired cover. Adapted from Robin Gibb's 1970 solo masterpiece Robin's Reign, Lord Bless All sees Trembling Bells tease out the hymnal qualities of Gibb's original with a slow volcanic upswell which — on four minutes — explodes into heavy psychedelic technicolour. What pleases Alex Neilson when he listens back is 'a sense of a common vocabulary and identity being forged.' If, by that, he means that there isn't another band on the planet that quite sounds like Trembling Bells, it would be hard to disagree. The evidence is right here.

'I didn't know anything about Trembling Bells. I just heard them and was knocked out. I instantly became a fan.' Paul Weller

'Trembling Bells are my kind of band.' Joe Boyd

"Jesus fucking shit! These jamz claw so hard at the tatties below methinks the Lord misnamed them, having intended to say Trembling BALLS." Will Oldham

'A poetic incantation of British identity far brighter than Michael Gove's GCSE syllabus.' Stewart Lee

'This time, I'm attempting to reclaim the art of songwriting from the charity shop bargain bin.' Alex Neilson

Bremen finds two luminaries of the Swedish punk underground, Jonas Tiljander (Brainbombs) and Lanchy Orre (Totalitär, Brainbombs, Teenage Graves, etc), coming together to explore the dark side of kraut and progressive rock, early electronic and drone music, whilst also invoking the fathomlessly bleak interior landscapes conjured by Nico/Cale on The Marble Index and Desertshore.

'Following a trio of sprawling, planet-gargling double-LPs, 2013's self-titled LP on Skrammel, and Second Launch (2015) and Eclipsed (2017) on Blackest Ever Black, Bremen - J. Tiljander and Lanchy, previously best known for their contributions to Brainbombs' long rapsheet of genius-and- brutality, but latterly exponents of a rarefied cosmic melancholy - return with Enter Silence, their most concise, and powerful, album to date. Once again the Uppsala multi-instrumentalists combine elements of trogged-out psychedelic rock with a deadly serious Arctic minimalism and weeping modal improvisations that owe more to the outer limits of jazz and burnt-out free music from Japan. It's connoisseur's space music, grown-up and grievously honed; outwardly inclined towards the epic but studded with details that reward attention and introspection. There's always been a strong undercurrent of sadness animating Bremen's work, and that existential burden is present and correct on Enter Silence, culminating in the all-out cosmic anguish of 'Palladium'. Even 'The Middle Section', whose ragged chords are nothing if not the sound of optimism and defiance, sounds like it's navigating some kind of unsayable trauma. But this band has always allowed plenty of room for bonehead slash-and-burn as well: see here especially the Stoogeian/39 Clocks-ish rock'n'roll of 'Aimless Cruising' and the pulpy quasi-cinematic tension of 'Sinister', or the brilliant 'Too Cold For Your Eyes', a blast of voidal motorik that sounds like a cranked-up Clean. It's a cold, cold world out there'

Neneh Cherry returns with Four Tet-produced LP Broken Politics

Following the release of her first earth-quaking single in 4 years at the beginning of August, counter-culture pop icon Neneh Cherry announces her fifth solo album Broken Politics, produced in its entirety by Four Tet.

Continuing her blurring and conflation of the personal and the political, the second single Shot Gun Shack tackles the link between violence and deprivation using poetic logic. The track deals with the ever-present and always-global issue of gun violence in society. The track's name was the result of inspiration that sprung from a half-remembered conversation Cherry had at the funeral of late jazz great Ornette Coleman.

Broken Politics pointedly asks the question; how do we conduct ourselves in extraordinary times In an era where the signal-to-noise ratio is more uneven than ever, what are the measures we must take to retain and remember our own personhood It searches for answers, patiently and with great care, and with a fearlessness to acknowledge that sometimes the answers don't even exist. It's a record that's equal parts angry, thoughtful, melancholy, and emboldening, as Cherry and her collaborators continue to expand her ever-widening sonic palette to craft truly singular and potent music.

Lucrecia Dalt's Anticlines is a volume of bodily and geological substrates within poetic theory and sound. It is a place where skins and minerals dissolve and commingle, where gaseous subterranean leaks inflate lungs, where brain cavities echo interplanetary waves bent from passing through atmospheres.

A former geotechnical engineer from Colombia currently residing in Berlin, Dalt's concern with boundaries and edges shape the lyrics and music of Anticlines, her sixth album. Paying careful attention to pace, breath, and texture, Dalt microtonally shifts the distance between speech and song while using traditional South American rhythms to support her contemporary electronic composition.

Lucrecia arrived at the atmosphere of Anticlines after several months of studying and creating new patches for the Clavia Nord Modular, forming a rhythmic feedback flow with it, a Moogerfooger MuRF, and her voice. The overall effect of cavernous space backdroping Dalt's intimate vocal phrasing rewards contemplation, supported in the physical formats of Anticlines by a lyric booklet documenting Lucrecia's collaboration with Australian artist Henry Andersen.

The album opens with Edge,' bordering on a pathological circlusion of self upon other. The lyrics depart from the Colombian myth of El Boraro, an Amazonian monster who turns its victims insides to pulp before sucking them dry and inflating their bodies like balloons to lifelessly float away. Tar' ponders human dependence on earth at the boundary of the heliopause, where to inhale might be like breathing tar. Dalt's distant and obscured vocals end with, we touched only as atmospheres touch.'

The sonic rise and fall of Analogue Mountains' is inspired by martian traces found in Antarctica embedded by meteorite ALH84001, suggesting that we might well be living in mountains transferred from Mars.' The steadily winding music on Concentric Nothings' descends with the lyrical exercise of dissolution let my touch be indistinct and instinctive.'

Interspersed with the lyrical pieces of Anticlines are instrumental interstitials that demonstrate preceding concepts — as if to say, this is what antiforms sound like, and this is what the universe's indifference sounds like.' Dalt's ongoing experiments with visual artist Regina de Miguel support these ideas, their practice allowing the objects of their attention to slip in and out of being.

Mystic of matter, Lucrecia Dalt has previously performed and worked with Julia Holter and Gudrun Gut, her slippery spoken word and performative nature recalling the work of Laurie Anderson, Robert Ashley, Asmus Tietchens, or Lena Platonos. While touching stones, The Thing by Dylan Trigg, Cascade Experiment by Alice Fulton, and Wretched of the Screen by Hito Steyerl are but a few formative scripts that support Dalt's exploration of the betwixt and between.

In preparing a live set for Anticlines, Dalt plans to stage an uninterrupted configuration, like a kind of alienated lecture, aiming for gestures that create tensions with non-existent objects.' Dalt intends to provide meaning and a place for the listener to meditate or relate to the concerns and ideas' she presents.

- Lucrecia Dalt is a Colombian recording artist, songwriter, and producer.
- After studying civil engineering in Colombia, Dalt worked at a geo-technical company for two years and has since lived in Barcelona and Berlin, where she currently resides.
- She has released five solo albums and has collaborated with musicians Julia Holter, Laurel Halo and Rashad Becker, to name a few.
- Dalt has composed for sound design installations and performance pieces for institutions such as the Santa Monica Art Centre, Reina Sofia Museum and the Maisterravalbuena gallery of Madrid, in collaboration with visual artist Regina de Miguel.
- Anticlines is Dalt's sixth solo record, and her first on RVNG Intl., following the release of 2015's Ou.
- Anticlines explores the boundaries and limitations of human consciousness. The album's poetic lyrics were written collaboratively between Dalt and Henry Andersen during a weekend in Brussels, Belgium.

To coincide with the release of their eagerly awaited debut album Gate Of Grief (now due out on 20 July), US dark electronic outfit WHITE RING release a double AA side 7' single of the two lead tracks on the album 'Leprosy' and 'Nothing'. Blending heavy, distorted electronics with eerie, unsettling vocals they push the boundaries further, subverting genre ideas and mashing them all together, with industrial, metal, rave, chopped and screwed, rap, grunge, neo folk, post punk and new wave all in the mix

'Leprosy' is brooding, abrasive and ethereal all at once, the track draws from a varied and challenging palette, steeped in existential dread. It was the first song they wrote for the album and features the vocals of co-founding member Kendra Malia. As Bryan Kurkimilis explains; 'This song was the first time we really wanted to start exploring aggression in our music.'

'Nothing' is underpinned by gothic 80s beats and sinister synth bass-lines. It crackles and fizzes with arcade bleeps with wraith-like melodies floating over the top. In this song, nothing is true and everything is permitted. It features the first collaboration with newcomer Adina Viarengo, who added her vocals in 2016 to the existing instrumental track that Bryan Kurkimilis created for the first set of WHITE RING demos in 2009.

WHITE RING were originally formed by Bryan Kurkimilis and Kendra Malia, before they were joined by Adina Viarengo, with Bryan and Adina currently touring as a duo. Gate Of Grief arrives a full eight years since their benchmark EP, Black Earth That Made Me, which sold out almost instantly, making their records some of the most highly sought after on the underground scene and earning them a cult following across the globe.

Swerving from aggressively abrasive to beautifully ethereal, musically they draw from varied and challenging palette, whilst tackling themes of loss and acceptance due to struggles with drug addiction and existential dread on a broader scope.

Dwelling on the outskirts of pop music, WHITE RING grew up in the age of the internet and were exposed to a huge range of music. They have developed a unique style while pushing the boundaries of accessibility and musical genre. They have created a piece of art that is brimming with symbolism and underlying tensions, that seduces and scares in equal measure.