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Shall Not Fade family member Tuff Trax is joined by fellow Melbourner Cold Past on an upbeat 5-tracker focusing on danceability and ultimately: fun. Fluffs EP is full of bubbly melodies, anthemic piano stabs and, at times, rolling timpani drums that add another layer of depth.

UK label Expel Your Demons is not slowing down. The entire first division of techno still hasn't tired of extremely playable Rian Wood recent release and they just striked with another standout intensive techno vinyl to keep dancefloors burning. Non Reversible - Change of Tendency EP EXPELVNL02 resemble a failed intergalactic journey that must continue. The direction of the extreme high-speed flight will be determined by repetitive disturbing sounds, distinctive alarms, fading vocals and wildly hypnotic melodies, while your body will be battered by powerful kicks. Futuristic industrial sweat squeezer with a touch of old-school 90's techno style. Pure mad ride through the perseids.

In the discography Berlin based Non Reversible has grown with standout he released on the legendary and highly influential labels like Soma, ARTS, EarToGround Records. In 2019 he has started his own Imprint Non Reversible Structures to pushing forward his vision and signature sound. With upcoming "Change of Tendency EP EXPELVNL02" vinyl release Non Reversible proves once again that he deserves for a place among the bests producers.

Brooklyn band Office Culture is made up of four longtime collaborators
(and all solo artists in their own right) lead singer and songwriter Winston
Cook-Wilson (vocals/keyboards), Ian Wayne (guitar), Charlie Kaplan
(bass), and Pat Kelly (drums)
Following the electronic avant-pop experimentation of their debut album I Did the
Best I Could, the band's critically acclaimed sophomore LP "2019's A Life of
Crime "unveiled a lush, jazz- inflected sound that Pitchfork described as "sleek
music for a cursed place, opulent like a ritzy hotel lounge." Cook-Wilson's wry and
contemplative songs reflect the bandmates' shared points of musical reference,
including Nite- Flights- era Scott Walker, mid- 70s Joni Mitchell, Curtis Mayfield,
and ECM-label jazz. The FADER wrote: "Office Culture spends the best moments
on A Life Of Crime sounding like the most vital lounge-pop act of all time. Big
Time Things "the band's third album and Northern Spy debut "is a more
maximalist affair. Written and recorded across the course of three years, it's a
meticulously orchestrated and groove- forward record featuring nine of CookWilson's most ambitious compositions to date. Tracks like singles Elegance, Big
Time Things, and Little Reminders draw together a disparate collection of
influences, integrating soulful vocal harmonies, horns straight out of 70s spiritual
jazz, string arrangements informed by modernist classical music, and beats that
reflect the band's enduring love of neo-soul and hip-hop.
The playful experimentation of the arrangements elevates the melodrama and
humor of Cook-Wilson's songs "his most emotionally direct to date "which trace
the complexities of our efforts to better ourselves by learning from our worst and
least rational behavior, and how we attempt to apply that knowledge to nurturing
close personal relationships. The record features a dense cast of supporting
players, including Carmen Q. Rothwell, Caitlin Pasko, Alena Spanger (Tiny
Hazard), and members of Cuddle Magic / Mmeadows. The album releases via
Northern Spy.

Pocket Fantasy, the sophomore album from Mamalarky is an instantclassic sunny-day record, imaginative and introspective, an enveloping
listen of skyhigh hooks and keyboards that soar with joyful abandon
Its twelve kaleidoscopic tracks shapeshift aesthetically and thematically, through
ideas about death and impermanence; love and gratitude; nature and technology;
humor and hope. Heralded by Billboard, Nylon, The Fader and more, the new
album expands on the unique sound of their self- titled debut which Pitchfork
called "tenderly tangled indie rock". On Pocket Fantasy some of the band's purest
pop tendencies collide with more warped and weird strains of quirky psych. It's a
treasure trove of playful grooves and zigzag riffs, a phenomenal album from a
young group poised to carve their own place in the bins of your favorite record
store.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

The Crystal Furs are a queer indie pop/rock band from Portland, OR. They write melodic, textured songs about anxiety, architecture, lesbians, and queer feels - loud music for quiet hearts. In Coastal Light is the band’s fifth album, following on from 2020 LP Beautiful and True, and hears them honing their blend of grungey riffs and 60s-girl-group vocals. As featured on: KEXP, WFMU, BBC Radio, Freeform Portland, KBOO Portland, Portland Radio Project, Chasing Infinity on WRUW, Get In Her Ears, Grrls Like Us “Had Portland’s (via Forth Worth) The Crystal Furs been around in the late 80s – early 90s there is a possibility they would have been signed to Sarah Records, home of OG jangle pop bands like The Field Mice and The Sea Urchins. Then again with their sunny, bright melodies, they might have found themselves riding the charts alongside The Bangles.” 50Thirdand3rd “It’s something of a well-worn expression, that adult life is about ‘finding oneself’, but it certainly seems for the Buchanans, and their band, that all of the changes in their life have enabled them to do just that. And what they’ve found are winning alt. indie-pop purveyors in the mould of Helen Love. Beautiful And True is an album whose title could not be clearer: it is what it says it is.” Get In Her Ears “Think of those jangly C86 tunes mixing genteel harmonies, spiraling keyboards, melodic guitar/ bass sounds and wistful vocals and you begin to get the drift here.” Into Creative “From the opening tones of the Farfisa organ on ‘Comeback Girls’ the lo-fi indie pop shines through, with jangly guitars, unassuming instrumental breaks and a naturalistic production that puts the Furs right there in the room with you.” Cambridge Music Review“Retro without being jaded, cute without being cliched what The Crystal Furs do so well – and demonstrate deeply on both tracks in this release – is as we’ve said pair light, sparkling and downright danceable melodies with dark-hearted lyrics emerging from shadowy inner worlds and harder lived experiences.” Popoptica 1. Winter Stars 2. Charlatan 3. Miss Hughes 4. California Misses You 5. Stay With Me 6. Mr Moses 7. Rose-Colored Glasses 8. We Never Sang 9. Please Fade Away10. Girl in the Background

Auf ihren neuen Album 'Two Sisters' präsentiert Sarah Davachi, Komponistin und Interpretin minimalistisch-elektroakustischer Musik, zusammen mit einer beeindruckenden Gruppe von Musikern und Interpreten neun erweiterte Kompositionen für Kammerensemble und Pfeifenorgel solo (darunter mit einer seltenen italienischen Traktororgel aus dem Jahr 1742). Die erweiterte Instrumentierung umfasst Glockenspiel (das drittgrößte der Welt samt einer 12 Tonnen schweren Glocke), Chor, Streichquartett, tiefe Holzbläser, Posaunenquartett, Sinustöne und elektronische Drones. Der konzeptionelle Faden der Kompositionen ist die ewige Balance von Zurückhaltung als Lust und Notwendigkeit. Das Album ist durchzogen von gespiegelten Klang- und Strukturbildern, die sich auch in der Ikonographie des Covers widerspiegeln: der Satyr und das Subjekt, der gemeinsame Blick von Kopf und Körper, der Dialog zwischen zerebraler und physischer Reaktion, wie oben so unten. Es ist, als gäbe es zwei Schwestern des Glaubens und des Zufalls."Two Sisters" erscheint als 2CD im Hardcover mit 24-seit. Booklet und als 2LP im Gatefold-Sleeve mit 20-seit. Booklet und DL-Code.

M-High makes his LOCUS debut with his four-track EP, ‘Enchant Me’.

With Amsterdam’s house scene continuing to flourish, M-High has seen his stock surge in recent months. Still young in the game, his releases and remixes via labels such as META, Moxy Muzik and Politics Of Dancing have seen him flying high alongside his fellow compatriots while also evolving from a label regular to A&R duties at PIV alongside founder Prunk. Having featured for the label’s New Year’s Day party in London, the Dutchman touches down on LOCUS for the first time with four fresh productions via his ‘Enchant Me’ EP.

Title cut ‘Enchant Me’ is a slick and classy effort fusing rich chords and skipping drums with zipping acid lines, while ‘Do You Even Groove’ pairs things back as rolling drums and sweeping electronics zig-zag through sparse textures. Next, ‘Endless Whispers’ combines sharp organ stabs with breezy pads and warm basslines, with the low-end heavy ‘Faded Senses’ closing the show and offering up yet more late-night dancefloor grooves.

AM006 is by Berlin's ML, titled 'Life always breaks your heart'. Two 30-minute pieces were written, constructed, collaged and fixed together by himself. It's an important story, so there's a copy from ML below and also ours was written by Bokeh Version Industrial to do it justice.

Hallucinated Brazilian poetry read by text to voice engines, supernatural thrillers ripped from Youtube, the clang of cutlery and distant canteen conversation, that noise wire fencing makes when you rake it with a stick, crickets chirping over odd dance emotions, a sample you think your recognise but can’t name…..

The trivial is cosmically important, the cosmically important is trivial. ‘It’s about the product’ - all of life’s a sample. You contain universes.

Alice in Wonderland, late night sessions with kosmische guitar legends, ethnographic chants from an unknown land, “There’s no monopoly of knowledge / there’s no monopoly of power”: forecasts from global political trends, China will be important they say, someone’s whistling a tune that doesn’t exist, I’m thinking of times long before I was born . . .

Growing naturally like a beautiful montage from his field recordings (a rich library of personal psychoacoustic details) and his 150 Session on NTS, ML's Life Always Breaks Your Heart is mixtape-concrète:

Gamelan of the soul, Bio-Curry-Wurst in Kreuzberg, zither overlays the booms of the squatter’s homegrade grenades…

Mark Leckey vs. Alvin Curran, Gustav Flaubert vs Cabaret Voltaire, free association flashbacks with the timestamps mixed up, with added bass guitar, OP-1, Ableton, distinguishing the ‘real’ instruments becomes unimportant….they’re absorbed by memory foam….

No country, no flag – outernational without a cause!

There is no purpose, there is only reverie.

ML -

"A useless ruin, things are falling apart, even in our deepest, we long for harmony. A hypothetical path, for obscure reasons, fades into transparency. The mediocrity of Western culture, sicken by P.R., life offers a chance, a place for enthusiasm. The texture of the world, them can read it in your eyes. In the heart of schizo-culture, distance, suddenly shortened, forms characters as symbols. Deafen by mass media, embittered by unsettled chemistry, the willing body, forever in transition. The pre-invented existence, owned by language, creates a passage towards chaos. Paragraphs of currents, amplify the feelings, while silence leaks into the new luxury of time. Gentrification of sentiments, beneath our palms, all these memoirs. A modern consciousness, stretching over years in narcissistic differentiation. In touch with another human spirit, blowing backwards, beneath dark waters. We put our hands on your body, onto a new landscape, employed by metaphysical mutations. At the edge of the cosmos, prairies and mountains hide the truth in tactical silence. Apparently so, a number of months ago, above our head, a landscape of journals. Mystical content, statistically insignificant. A new patio, them crawled through the walls."

Gazelle Twin, Lali Puna, This Mortal Coil, Slow Walkers, Atlas Sound, Bowery Electric, Broadcast Press Release: Snakeskin is an album of visionary electronic dream pop, shapeshifting above ambient and industrial undercurrents. It is moody, unsettling, luminous – the culmination of a decade of collaboration and friendship between Lebanese producer/musician/ engineer Fadi Tabbal and singer-songwriter Julia Sabra from Beirut-based indie trio Postcards. The duo began working on Snakeskin in the aftermath of the August 2020 Beirut port explosion, which killed at least 218 people, injured 7,000, and left over 300,000 people homeless. Indeed, Julia's home was destroyed by the explosion and her partner and bandmate Pascal badly injured. The first song that they wrote together afterwards was 'Roots', which closes out the album and was composed for the Ruptured-curated series The Drone Sessions in the fall of 2020. Snakeskin utilizes tape loops, synthesizers, vocals, and drum machines, combining Julia’s pop-inspired melodies and choral roots (an echo from her religious upbringing) with Fadi’s affinity for minimalism and musique concrète. The album seamlessly incorporates the melancholy electro-pop of 'All The Birds', the quiet menace of 'In Our Garden' (long-lost treasures, ancient lies / another buried paradise), and the beat-driven 'Signs'. The title track sums up their frame of mind, beginning as a lullaby and evolving into a glittering tapestry of distortion and feedback. As the artists write, Snakeskin is a product of "the disappearance of life as we know it, and with it the decay of nature and living creatures. There is no rebirth, no renewal. It’s about what it means to feel at home in such a place." Some tracks were also inspired by events happening in the surrounding region, such as the invasion of Armenia by Azerbaijan and the Palestinian uprising of May 2021 in Sheikh Jarrah - both events shedding light on relationships to home and land across the wider region. That such compelling art can emerge from unceasing tragedy may be the ultimate testament to human resilience and the pursuit of freedom and justice. "The moon speaks in tongues we can't discern / A plastic dove hangs from a cypress branch / Haven't you heard? / Nothing grows here anymore / The air is burnt / Nothing grows..." Highlights: – This is the second volume in the Corrosion Series, a collaborative effort by Beacon Sound and Ruptured, and the sixth collaboration between the two labels. – Fadi used samples of Julia's voice on his fifth solo album Subject to Potential Errors and Distortions (2020, Beacon Sound/Ruptured) – The Tunefork Studios team, led by Fadi, administered the Beirut Musician's Fund after the port explosion, as covered by Pitchfork, NME, and the Financial Times. – Julia's band Postcards released their third full-length album After The Fire, Before The End on Berlin label T3 Records in 2021 and are currently touring Europe. Credits: All music composed, performed and produced by Julia Sabra and Fadi Tabbal between November 2020 and December 2022. Lyrics by Julia Sabra. Drum samples by Pascal Semerdjian. Recorded by Fadi Tabbal, mixed by Sary Moussa and Fadi Tabbal at Tunefork Studios, Beirut. Cover photo by Lujain Jo. Design by Josette 'ZOoz' Khalil. Mastered by Rashad Becker. Bios: Julia Sabra is a Lebanese musician, songwriter and composer. She co-founded acclaimed Lebanese dream-pop outfit Postcards in 2013 and is the band’s multi-instrumentalist, lead singer and lyricist. Postcards have released two EPs (2013, 2015) and three albums (2018, 2020, 2021) and have been regularly touring Europe and the Middle East since 2015. She has been the manager of Tunefork Studios since 2017. Lebanese musician, producer, and sound engineer Fadi Tabbal’s work consist of minimalist pieces ranging from ambient and electronic to drone and contemporary classical. He has released six solo albums and has collaborated with various musicians, artists and filmmakers through the years. Often referred to as “the hardest-working person in Lebanon’s alternative music scene”, Tabbal established Tunefork Studios, a collective of producers, engineers and musicians, which has helped shape Beirut's contemporary music scene since 2006.

R.M.F.C. returns in 2022 with a brand new
single from the much-anticipated,
forthcoming LP, due early 2023.
“Access” is a short, sharp, straight to the
point piece that combines an anarcho
marching beat and Devo-style guitar riff
that leads into the driving rhythm section
R.M.F.C. is known and loved for. With the
permanent addition of 12-string guitar to
the band; it’s fuller, thicker and janglier
than ever before, but still retains the
R.M.F.C. sound. Formerly based in Ulladulla, and now
relocated to Sydney, R.M.F.C. is the baby of 21
year-old Buz Clatworthy, who writes and
performs all the groups recorded output
himself from his home studio (still based in
Ulladulla). Following up in the footsteps of
2020’s “Reader” 7”, R.M.F.C.’s sound has
grown as quickly as Buz has. Giant strides
forward since the first cassette, “Hive”, was
released in 2018 - and “Access” is only
further proof of this.
On the flip side we have a phenomenal cover
originally by The Lillettes, a UK based post
punk band that wrote this great tune “Air
Conditioning” in 1981.
These two ripping tracks complete the brand new R.M.F.C. 7”. “Access” is out
NOW via Anti Fade Records - stay tuned for the LP early next year!

Vinyl only.

Ryuichi Sakamoto, Daniel Lanois, Loscil, K Leimer, Deaf Center, Tangerine Dream, Arvo Pärt Wake is a distillation and reflection of the work of three Portland musicians thrown, like the rest of the world, into forced isolation by the continually-mutating curse of a natural world in disequilibrium. The product of involuntarily inward-looking emotional landscapes, Wake emerged sounding surprisingly expansive and confident. The trio uses a variety of instruments –including harp, fretless bass, piano, and a variety of synthesizers– to conjure sparkling panoramas of the imagination that are deep-pooled and impressionistic, bracing yet comforting. Mike Grabarak and Joshua Ward have performed together for years as a duo under the moniker of Location Services, while Derek Hunter Wilson has primarily worked as a solo composer in the classical realm. For the Points Of No Return compilation, Beacon Sound's 50th release and a benefit for the Beirut Musicians Fund, they recorded a collaborative piece entitled "Interdependence In Solitude" that was so promising the label offered to release an album if they continued down the path they had started upon. The resulting eight songs are simply mesmerizing. Made during a period of change and upheaval in the world and society where many people were disconnected from others, the album is the product of a collage-like dialogue built on trust and patience. While the musicians couldn’t physically be together for much of this time, they began sending musical ideas to one another in a conversational back-and-forth that acted as an anchor of stability – something they found they could turn to and depend on when things felt uncertain elsewhere. This comfort zone led to some transcendent moments of experimentation. “Delicate Need”, for example, features recordings of exaggerated pizzicato that were sampled and then run back through processing effects, which were then subsequently performed live over the original track. As things became less risky on the Covid front, they would occasionally meet for backyard rehearsals. Indeed, a recording of one of these rehearsals became the basis for the opening track “Photo Aware”. Wake will be available later this summer as a limited edition LP, with design work by Berlin-based Studio Bernhardt. The cover painting was created by Portland artist Nate Ethington. Highlights: – Derek was invited by the artist Gregory Euclide (Bon Iver, Erased Tapes) to participate in his label project, Thesis, along with artists such as Benoit Pioulard, Loscil, and Julianna Barwick. – Derek‘s first and second albums as a solo artist were released by Beacon Sound (Travelogue, 2017; Steel, Wood, & Air, 2019). – Location Services likewise released their 2019 album Reincorporate on the label. – The artists plan to tour together in 2023. Cascadia release shows TBA. Bios: Location Services is the Portland-based project of multi-instrumentalist Mike Grabarek (Magic Fades) and harpist Joshua Ward. They’ve released music on Beacon Sound and Beer On The Rug. They perform both written and improvised music. Derek Hunter Wilson is a composer and multi-instrumentalist based in Portland. He has released two solo albums on Beacon Sound and has also collaborated with visual artist Gregory Euclide for his Thesis Project label, resulting in a split 10" with Spanish musician Rauelsson. He has additionally collaborated with poets Zachary Schomburg and Brandi Katherine Herrera for several sound and performance pieces. He has performed live on the West Coast and in Berlin, sharing the stage with artists such as Colleen, Amulets, and Liima.

After the Pacific Northwest grunge raids of the early '90s that saw Nirvana, Mudhoney, and even the Melvins hoisted up the major label flagpole, Unwound's 1993 debut came as a welcomed reprieve for underground noise-niks everywhere. A pulsing cluster of wiry feedback, lurching bass, and single stroke rolls, Fake Train entangles the energies of frustrated backpack emo, faded Riot Grrrl back issues, and their own dash of teen spirit and unleashes it all in an earsplitting 10-song assault.

Comes on like an homage to Wire's 1 2 X U' as filtered through Minor Threat and a broken bottle of Robitussin.' —Pitchfork

It's no contest: Unwound is the best band of the '90s.' — A.V. Club

Under The Sun is the follow-up to the astonishing Roots and contains yet more absolutely essential Nucleus material. Originally released on Vertigo in 1974, Under The Sun was never re-pressed and of course those original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

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

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

Under The Sun opens with the crisp, medium tempo “In Procession”. It’s a typically inventive Carr track with layers of dramatic, riff-led themes and repeating brass blasts. Bryan Spring’s “The Addison Trip” is a moody funk piece, with Kieran White guesting on wordless vocals. Roger Sutton contributes some fine bass guitar on this track, particularly the great solo at around the two minute mark. The excellently-named cool, jazzy ballad “Pastoral Graffiti” paints bucolic pictures with its mellow sonics, plaintive horns and Bob Bertles’ flute.

Sutton’s superb, bass-driven “New Life” brings a different dynamic. Horns, guitar and electric piano swirl over the head-nod bass motif and a killer Ken Shaw guitar solo. A false fade out halfway through brings in a new bass riff that’s picked up by the whole ensemble as Carr wah-wah noodles over the top. It’s full-on. The gorgeous, laidback “A Taste of Sarsaparilla” is exactly that - closing out the first side with a cute blast of what is to come over on the killer flip.

The whole of Under The Sun’s second side is a suite of three “Themes” written by Ian Carr. The uptempo first theme “Sarsaparilla” is comfortably one of Nucleus’ best. What would’ve been a cluttered mess in the hands of most is instead an effortless lesson in clarity and zing. Between Geoff Castle’s electric piano solo, the relentless funky drumming and more wild wah-wah trumpet from Carr, Nucleus show you how it’s done.

The languid groove of second theme “Feast Alfresco” is much more typical of “classic” Nucleus and sounds like something that might’ve been on Roots. A Bertles baritone solo and a guitar solo from Shaw weave around the core, serpentine brass theme.

The darker “Rites of Man”, the third and final theme, is a slow build to a solid bass and electric piano riff, shored up by some tricky brass. Carr takes the theme even further and there’s still plenty of room for soloing from all corners of the Nucleus. As usual, the dynamic Sutton/Spring, bass/drums duo is holding down the rhythm for the rest to jam around.

This Be With edition of Under The Sun has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The bleak, rain-dappled cover matches the melancholic vibe of the record and has been restored as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Labyrinth is dark, brooding, beat-heavy, melancholic mood music courtesy of Ian Carr and the Nucleus crew. A favourite of Madlib, it goes without saying that this is one magnificent record. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, Labyrinth was never re-pressed and of course those original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

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

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

At this point Carr had parted ways with guitarist Alan Holdsworth and as a result the Nucleus sound found itself returning to the core elements of groove and melody. Carr had become bolder and more self-confident in his compositions and it shows in the sheer ambition of Labyrinth. Composed by Carr, and with lyrics written by his wife Sandy, Labyrinth was the result of a commission from the Park Lane Group and funded by the Arts Council of Great Britain. Originally a live performance by an augmented Nucleus, some of the expanded cast were brought back for the recording sessions, including vocalist Norma Winstone. So as the front cover of the finished album says, this is literally “Nucleus Plus”.

Labyrinth is presented as a suite, based on the ancient Greek legend of the Minotaur with musical instruments representing the various elements of the mythology. According to the LP’s original sleeve notes, the bass clarinet represents the tragic element, the trumpet represents the heroic element and the voice represents the human element. The rest of the musicians represent the two societies of Athens and Crete and their comments on the story as it unfolds.

The album opens with the experimental, sumptuously dissonant “Origins”. Teasing strands of atmospheric bass clarinet introduce the first theme before swiftly fading out with a startling blast of staccato fanfares and big drums. Heavy. The album soon finds its rhythm as it alights on the spell-binding and groove-friendly “Bull-Dance”, showing off the best Nucleus has to offer: subtle trumpet melodies, compelling rhythms, a psych-rock vibe and tight soloing. And of course there’s Norma Winstone’s stunning wordless vocals, that also take the lead in the next track “Ariadne”, a spacey-jazz song with beautiful piano, flute and clarinet, and the only recognisable lyrics on the album. You might recognise a snatch of it being looped by Madlib on Quasimoto’s “Astro Travellin”. The first part of the improvised “Arena” closes out the first side of the album, a short experimental piece with piano and horns.

Over on the flip-side, the powerful second part of “Arena” introduces a new theme. It swiftly builds, with vocal melodies, piano and horns all pronounced over the thick drums snapping your neck. It comes on like an alternate take on “Bull-Dance”, noisier, with a looser rhythm. The triumphant, shuffling Latin-jam “Exultation” leans on more scintillating vocals from Winstone, and a chunky counter melody from the rhythm section. It’ll get you moving.

The final track, the haunting, twelve minute “Naxos”, is an incredible way to close out this remarkable record. A circling bass guitar loop inspiring the group to a meditative psychedelic jazz rock improvisation in a silent, Miles kind of way, with a great flugelhorn solo from Carr and an ace synth climax.

This Be With edition of Labyrinth has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. Another great Keith Davis sleeve has been restored in all its airbrushed Golden Age of comics, gatefold splendour. Complete with Minotaur of course.

Red Vinyl

Auf ihren neuen Album 'Two Sisters' präsentiert Sarah Davachi, Komponistin und Interpretin minimalistisch-elektroakustischer Musik, zusammen mit einer beeindruckenden Gruppe von Musikern und Interpreten neun erweiterte Kompositionen für Kammerensemble und Pfeifenorgel solo (darunter mit einer seltenen italienischen Traktororgel aus dem Jahr 1742). Die erweiterte Instrumentierung umfasst Glockenspiel (das drittgrößte der Welt samt einer 12 Tonnen schweren Glocke), Chor, Streichquartett, tiefe Holzbläser, Posaunenquartett, Sinustöne und elektronische Drones. Der konzeptionelle Faden der Kompositionen ist die ewige Balance von Zurückhaltung als Lust und Notwendigkeit. Das Album ist durchzogen von gespiegelten Klang- und Strukturbildern, die sich auch in der Ikonographie des Covers widerspiegeln: der Satyr und das Subjekt, der gemeinsame Blick von Kopf und Körper, der Dialog zwischen zerebraler und physischer Reaktion, wie oben so unten. Es ist, als gäbe es zwei Schwestern des Glaubens und des Zufalls."Two Sisters" erscheint als 2CD im Hardcover mit 24-seit. Booklet und als 2LP im Gatefold-Sleeve mit 20-seit. Booklet und DL-Code.