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When considering the jazz vibraphone giants of the 20th century, seven stand out: Lionel Hampton, Red Norvo, Milt Jackson, Terry Gibbs, Cal Tjader, Gary Burton, and Bobby Hutcherson. Bobby Hutcherson (1941-2016), originally inspired by Milt Jackson, emerged from Los Angeles in the late 1950s. After a stint with the Billy Mitchell-Al Grey sextet in 1962, Hutcherson moved to New York, becoming the house vibraphonist for the Blue Note label. His foundation in hard bop did not limit him, as he also played in avant-garde sessions with artists like Eric Dolphy and Jackie McLean. On December 11, 1983, the 42-year-old Hutcherson performed seven standards with a stellar group. Pianist George Cables, consistently excellent throughout his career, had been working with Hutcherson since 1977. Bassist Herbie Lewis, a versatile musician, had collaborated with Hutcherson since 1966. Drummer Philly Joe Jones, known for his work with Miles Davis, also contributed to the session. The recording of the Four Seasons album features seven standards, starting with Thelonious Monk’s “I Mean You,” which showcases each musician. Hutcherson’s solo on Cole Porter’s “All Of You” is particularly adventurous. “Spring Is Here” receives a beautiful interpretation, and “Star Eyes” is taken uptempo. Hutcherson’s introduction on “If I Were A Bell” is notable, as is Jones’s solo. The session spotlights Cables on “Summertime” and concludes with a vibrant version of “Autumn Leaves.” Decades later, the music remains a timeless classic. Four Seasons is available on black vinyl, celebrates its 40th Anniversary, and includes an insert with newly written liner-notes by Scott Yanow

“Limbs of a Lion” arrives in a dazzling array of shimmering psychedelia, the newest offering on fleet.dreams’ own Vinezza records. Following “Echoes of Ego” his acclaimed inaugural 12”, “Limbs of a Lion” sees fleet.dreams’ artistry and form blossoming into realms of kaleidoscopic cadence & textural buoyancy. The production flows through a classically dubwise live analog mixing setup, new spheres of delays & echoes evolving fleet.dreams’ process to embody a unique & fully realized intersection of live instrumentation & dynamic synthesis.

Each track takes on its own entrancing sway, opening the listener towards beguiling spaciousness, experiences in rhythm, and a healthy dose of surrealist dreaming. “Masked in Porcelain” gleams with mystique, tinged with flanger in a firmly driving dancefloor mode, guiding us deeper into mysteries held by skylines and moonlight. “Secret of the Golden Flower” brings forth photosynthetic gated vocals built for eyes closed body movement, evolving from a cosmic conga groove confidently manifesting in ensnaring kinetic activation.

“iLL Enargeia” brings a touch of depth, stepping into tomorrow with a confident saunter, perfect for the blissful delirium of new beginnings or a space of breadth and reflection in the midst of astral metronomes. The closing title track “Limbs of a Lion” sees us out on a hopeful note, awash in bold luminescence & inviting us to go deeper and deeper within ourselves amidst the grounding embrace of bassline pressure.

Embodying a dance of intangibility towards new unknowns, “Limbs of a Lion” aspires to manifest the grace of movement through our beings - magnetizing and enhancing our danceable forms, frolicking beyond words together. Each track boldly stands on it’s own while orbiting a cohesive whole, perfect for all set and settings, a staple for the DJ crates, and a sign of a musicmaker with even more exciting creations on the horizon.

*words by Kiernan Laveaux
Early support from: Kiernan Laveaux, Daniel Rincón (NAP), 2Lanes & Amelia Holt

Bethesda Game Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die Musik von 'Starfield' auf Deluxe-Vinyl zu bringen.

In allen Titeln der Bethesda Game Studios ist die Musik ein wesentlicher Bestandteil der Reise des Spielers und ein ständiger Begleiter während seines Abenteuers. Die langjährige Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem Komponisten Inon Zur und dem Studio begann bereits 2008 mit der Veröffentlichung von Fallout 3. Die Musik zu 'Starfield' sollte sowohl die Weite des Weltraums als auch die Neugier der Menschen auf das Unbekannte zum Ausdruck bringen. So verwob Zur traditionelle und nicht-traditionelle orchestrale und elektronische Klänge zu einem Klangteppich aus Organischem und Synthetischem.

Während der Entwicklung hat das Team ein eklektisches Spektrum an Referenzpunkten durchlaufen: Es begann bei den Sci-Fi-Grundsäulen von John Williams und Jerry Goldsmith, durchquerte einen klassischen Nebel von Debussy, Ravel und Prokofiev, flog an Vangelis' überragendem Synthesizerwerk vorbei und warf einen Blick auf die experimentellen Arbeiten der Einstürzenden Neubauten und von John Cage.

In den Orchesterstücken von Starfield, die vom Budapester Filmorchester eingespielt wurden, beschwören verschiedene Instrumentalgruppen oft imaginäre Aspekte des Weltraums herauf. Schnelle, sich wiederholende Sequenzen in den Holzbläsern stellen Partikel dar. Streicher, die wellenförmige Akkorde spielen, imitieren lange Wellen interstellarer Energie. Die Blechbläser werden zum Leuchtfeuer der Melodie, das über die Galaxie hinaus strahlt. In ähnlicher Weise erhalten die eher elektronischen Cues ein Gefühl von Erhabenheit durch schwere Synthesizerflächen, die kryptische, sich wiederholende Muster und ungewöhnliche perkussive Schläge untermauern.

Aeralie Brighton (DEATHLOOP, Ori-Serie) ist auf dem Soundtrack als Sängerin zu hören.

- Voice of the Beehive's sophomore album. 1991's Honey Lingers, saw the UK/US pop-rock band build further on their signature mix of jangly guitars, upbeat rhythms, and melodic pop hooks, edging closer to a glossier, more mainstream sound
- Working with producers such as Don Was (The B-52s, Bob Dylan), Hugh Jones (Echo & The Bunnymen, The Charlatans) and Alan Tarney (A-ha, Saint Etienne), its 3 singles - 'Monsters And Angels', 'I Think I Love You', and 'Perfect Place'- all broke the UK Top 40.
- 'Monsters And Angels' was also a significant top ten Modern Rock track at US radio as well as breaking the US Top 100.
- The album saw the band build on the indie-rock of their debut to bring in more mainstream pop influences.
- The album sold over 60,000 copies in the UK, enjoying silver sales.
- These new versions see the album remastered :
1. re-issued on vinyl for the very first time, pressed on limited edition hot-pink vinyl..
2. The expanded - 37 tracks- and remastered double CD delves into the archives to uncover B-sides, acoustic versions and alternate takes, as well as live tracks from an iconic 1991 performance at The Kentish Town & Country Club recorded for BBC Radio One.

Remastered Edition des Albums "Immutable"
Neues Cover-Artwork
Erhältlich als:
140g 2LP Opaque Tan Colored

"A mysterious object is revealed; the drum sound of the rite arouses; flares are blazing; the soul slides through water’s surface; the breath lights up the air; the body as a sacrifice, I hear myself, in this dream."

The 12 songs that constitute Dreams, the third full-length from the Kaohsiung trio Elephant Gym, explore the deep spacetime continuum that consciousness cannot capture. Beyond the trio’s staple instrumentation of guitar, bass, and drumset, Dreams blends in wind instruments, traditional drums, and Taiwanese narrative. Through collaboration with Hakka singer-songwriter Lin Sheng Xiang and pop musician 9m88, notable for their accomplishments in jazz, soul, and R&B, Dreams is a sweeping narrative about a fantastical dream that crosses the boundary. After pressing play, please do close your eyes, and enjoy the dream.

Bethesda Game Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die Musik von 'Starfield' auf Deluxe-Vinyl zu bringen.

In allen Titeln der Bethesda Game Studios ist die Musik ein wesentlicher Bestandteil der Reise des Spielers und ein ständiger Begleiter während seines Abenteuers. Die langjährige Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem Komponisten Inon Zur und dem Studio begann bereits 2008 mit der Veröffentlichung von Fallout 3. Die Musik zu 'Starfield' sollte sowohl die Weite des Weltraums als auch die Neugier der Menschen auf das Unbekannte zum Ausdruck bringen. So verwob Zur traditionelle und nicht-traditionelle orchestrale und elektronische Klänge zu einem Klangteppich aus Organischem und Synthetischem.

Während der Entwicklung hat das Team ein eklektisches Spektrum an Referenzpunkten durchlaufen: Es begann bei den Sci-Fi-Grundsäulen von John Williams und Jerry Goldsmith, durchquerte einen klassischen Nebel von Debussy, Ravel und Prokofiev, flog an Vangelis' überragendem Synthesizerwerk vorbei und warf einen Blick auf die experimentellen Arbeiten der Einstürzenden Neubauten und von John Cage.

In den Orchesterstücken von Starfield, die vom Budapester Filmorchester eingespielt wurden, beschwören verschiedene Instrumentalgruppen oft imaginäre Aspekte des Weltraums herauf. Schnelle, sich wiederholende Sequenzen in den Holzbläsern stellen Partikel dar. Streicher, die wellenförmige Akkorde spielen, imitieren lange Wellen interstellarer Energie. Die Blechbläser werden zum Leuchtfeuer der Melodie, das über die Galaxie hinaus strahlt. In ähnlicher Weise erhalten die eher elektronischen Cues ein Gefühl von Erhabenheit durch schwere Synthesizerflächen, die kryptische, sich wiederholende Muster und ungewöhnliche perkussive Schläge untermauern.

Aeralie Brighton (DEATHLOOP, Ori-Serie) ist auf dem Soundtrack als Sängerin zu hören.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

1000 pressed. Ltd Orange Vinyl, DL card. The seminal album from Half Japanese featuring updated artwork and liner notes from Jad Fair and producer Kramer. This is the Zen of Half Japanese, of prolific songwriter Jad Fair; wide-eyed crooner, humorous raconteur and spontaneous storyteller. A genre-bending romp through the mind of the man, originally released in 1989 in a purple patch for the group, preceded by 'Music To Strip By' and 'Charmed Life'. "Half Japanese were a song machine," attested Pitchfork, while AllMusic saw this album as a collection of "humorous lo-fi rock 'n' roll hit singles." Previously released on black vinyl a decade ago.

Marking the fourteenth chapter in the Swinging Flavors series, Beat Machine Records proudly unveils a gripping release by Helsinki-based producer DJ Sofa. Packed with deep, nostalgic energy, this installment delves into the darker side of drum and bass, with a sound inspired by the genre’s golden era of the late 90s and early 2000s.

DJ Sofa, known for their emotive and intricate productions, brings a raw, jungle-infused energy to the forefront. Drawing inspiration from jungle and breakbeat hardcore, their sound reflects a deep connection to the classic UK rave era while maintaining a forward-thinking edge. Known for captivating listeners with rich atmospheres and complex breakbeats, DJ Sofa’s music resonates strongly with audiences far beyond their Finnish roots, particularly within the UK underground scene.

“Drums For The Lost,” the lead track on Swinging Flavors #14, exemplifies this blend. A menacing roller, it marches forward with unwavering determination, offering a guiding light through shadowy soundscapes. With its haunting basslines, intricate percussion, and mysterious atmosphere, the track is a testament to DJ Sofa’s ability to create immersive and emotionally charged music.

The journey doesn’t stop there. Swinging Flavors #14 also features a remix of “Drums For The Lost” by Siu Mata. The Parisian producer reinterprets the track with their signature style, adding pulsating rhythms and hypnotic layers that elevate it to a peak-time dancefloor weapon. Siu Mata’s remix infuses the original with a modern edge, creating a vibrant and dynamic sound that bridges the gap between tradition and innovation.

Swinging Flavors #14 is available in both digital format and as a limited edition 7” vinyl, ensuring it finds its way into the hands of collectors and music lovers alike. DJ Sofa and Siu Mata’s contributions to the Swinging Flavors series underscore Beat Machine Records’ commitment to showcasing the best of underground electronic music. With its bold exploration of drum and bass and an eye on the future, this release is set to captivate audiences worldwide.

‘The Return of Pachyman’ is a supernatural force
from a brave new world that’s a little bit San Juan,
a little LA, and a whole lot of Channel One in
Kingston, Jamaica. Designed to be a resurrection
of sound systems from the past through which we
can celebrate a post-Trump future, the record
shows that blasting off into reggae’s deep space
has never gone out of style.
Pachy García (aka Pachyman) is perhaps best
known as the drummer / vocalist for the LA-based
band Prettiest Eyes, a unique pop-noise project
that reflects his other formative interest, synth
punk. He thinks of ‘The Return of Pachyman’ the
same way King Tubby might - an ‘X-ray’ of reggae
music, breaking it down to its bare bones.
Originally a guitarist, he moved to Los Angeles in
the early 2010s and developed his passion for
dub. From there, he started recording bass, drums
and piano and collecting recording equipment in
his basement studio, which he calls 333 House.
With ‘The Return of Pachyman’, García wants to
show how the Caribbean flow is transnational, a
vibe that resounds from Jamaica to San Juan to
Southern California. “With this project, I was
looking to make positive music and radiate good
energy; something to kinda disconnect from the
negative things that were happening at the
moment,” Garcia explains. “I am trying to make this
project a service for humanity in the sense that I
just wanted to shine a positive light.”

After a 30-year interstellar silence, the enigmatic producer Alien Signal—pioneering alias of Italian electronic composer Alex Silvi—reemerges with Whispers from Distant Suns, a transcendent odyssey that bridges retro-futurism and modern electronica. Hailed as a magnum opus, this album transcends genre boundaries, captivating ambient purists, downtempo aficionados, and even experimental listeners with its hypnotic fusion of analog warmth and digital precision.

Cosmic Tapestry of Sound
Drawing comparisons to Vangelis’ Antarctica and Alpha—but reimagined through a 21stcentury lens—Whispers from Distant Suns marries nostalgic synth textures with cuttingedge production. Silvi’s mastery of melody shines through in tracks like “Stardust
Memories” and “Fragile Eden” where shimmering arpeggios and celestial pads drift over robotic, glitch-infused drum patterns and sparse, meditative percussion. The result is a paradox: a retro-futuristic soundscape that feels simultaneously ancient and alien, familiar yet unexplored.

Listener Testimonials
Fans and critics have flooded forums with praise:

“An auditory revelation! It’s like Vangelis met Jon Hopkins in a nebula—vintage soul with a futuristic heartbeat.”
“The textures are gorgeously cinematic. Closing your eyes, you’re adrift in a Tarkovsky film scored for the Andromeda galaxy.”

The Vinyl Experience
Pressed on heavyweight vinyl, the album’s physical release amplifies its immersive qualities. The gatefold sleeve, adorned with surrealist astrophotography and metallic
foiling, mirrors the music’s cosmic ethos. Side A leans into Balearic serenity, with sundappled grooves and aquatic synth ripples, while Side B delves into darker, more
experimental terrain—think Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works colliding with the organic rhythms of Jon Hopkins.

Maturity in Motion
This album is a testament to Silvi’s evolution. Tracks like “Seeds Of Light” and “Message from Andromeda Galaxy” showcase his refined ear for dynamics, balancing silence and sound with surgical precision. Vintage drum machines spar with glitches, while field recordings of crashing waves and interstellar static blur the line between Earth and cosmos. The closing track, “The Star Charts We Shared” crescendos into a 6-minute ambient requiem, leaving listeners suspended in a state of weightless awe.

Final Transmission
Whispers from Distant Suns is more than an album—it’s a transcendent odyssey. Spanning time, space, and the artist’s own creative evolution, this immersive work invites listeners to lose themselves in its ebb and flow. Designed for moments both intimate and expansive, its balearic-tinged atmospheres resonate equally through dawnlit Mediterranean terraces or the solitary glow of headphones in darkness. These are compositions that pulse, morph, and haunt the air long after the final note fades. A living soundscape meant to accompany life’s quiet revelations and clandestine joys—a soundtrack to your most personal moments, crafted as what the artist calls ‘private dance music.’

Tailored for the Discerning Listener
Whispers from Distant Suns is designed with the true connoisseur in mind. This album is a must-have for:

Vinyl Collectors & Audiophiles: Those who value the warmth and tactile experience of heavyweight, limited edition pressings
Electronic Ambient and Downtempo Fans: Listeners who appreciate immersive soundscapes that merge retro analog charm with modern digital innovation.
Retro-Futurism Enthusiasts: Fans of pioneering artists like Vangelis, Boards of Canada, and early Warp Records who seek music that bridges nostalgic synth textures with futuristic experimentation.
Experimental Music Explorers: Individuals drawn to sonic narratives that invite deep, contemplative listening—perfect for both introspective moments and immersive listening sessions.
This release is not just an album; it’s a curated experience for those who desire music as a multidimensional art form, merging the vintage allure of analog sound with a contemporary, cosmic vision.

For fans of: Vangelis, Biosphere, Jon Hopkins, early Warp Records.

1st@Vinyl

We are overjoyed to present you the first Klangtrauma Records Vinyl.
Our label bosses Nadine Fehn and Duniz have teamed up for this one.
Nadine starts with "I feel you", a clear and massive dancefloor filler!
The remix comes from Audio State - so it's clear that it's going to be an absolute banger!
Duniz kicks things off with it's counterpart "Fühl ma", a seadily rising track that enriches any set and delivers a minimal, hypnotic journey with "Snail".

So keep an eye out for our next vinyl release.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.