Buscar:feels

Marc Richter aka Black To Comm released his debut record 20 years ago. In 2023 he is still busy releasing music under various disguises and is currently signed to the Thrill Jockey label. To celebrate this anniversary his own Cellule 75 label is re-releasing some classic out-of-print vinyl albums that originally came out on the defunct Type and De Stijl labels. The LP will feature a full-colour printed inner sleeve exclusive to this edition.

In 2009 the Type Recordings label run by John Twells had just released seminal records by Grouper, Jóhann Jóhannsson and Yellow Swans when they signed Richter and put out his breakthrough Alphabet 1968 album. The LP sold out within two weeks, receiving a glowing full-page review in The Wire Magazine by the late Mark Fisher (later reprinted in his book Ghosts Of My Life), was selected for Boomkat's Top 10 releases of the year (alongside debut albums by Leyland Kirby, Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never) and was greeted with universal praise in the underground blog network as well as established magazines such as The New Yorker and Pitchfork.

The music itself played with the notion of nostalgia without being nostalgic itself. It's the sound of half-remembered dreams, a surreal distorted vision of the past, an aural polaroid of long forgotten musics, a ghostly voice from a non-existent era.

From the original Type one-sheet:
"The mission statement for Alphabet 1968 was to write an album of "songs" for want of a better word. Short tracks which represented genre points, the milestones which stuck in Richter's mind when he thought back to his favorite records. What we arrive at is a breathtaking 10-track album which, over the course of 45 minutes, explores world music, techno, noise, avant-garde, ambient music and even exotica. Each track is linked with a loose thread of radio static or environmental sound, dragging you through the album, as if tuning in to a stray broadcast or a particularly adventurous mix. Richter has pieced the album together from hours of recordings made at his studio with home made gamelan, small instruments and loops gathered from a collection of ancient vinyl and 78 records. The scope of the album is admirable, but ignoring this, it is simply a shockingly arresting collection of experimental oddities, with references ranging from Moondog to Basic Channel by way of Bernard Herrmann. It's not hard to fall in love with Alphabet 1968, far harder would be to place exactly where the record should fit into your collection."

Mark Fisher in The Wire:
"But what if we were to take Richter's provocation seriously - what would a song without a singer be like? What would it be like, that is to say, if objects themselves could sing? It’s a question that connects fairy tales with cybernetics, and listening to Alphabet 1968, I’m reminded of a filmic space in which magic and mechanism meet: JF Sebastian’s apartment in Blade Runner. The tracks on the LP are crafted with the same minute attention to detail that the genetic designer and toymaker brought to his miniature automata, with their bizarre mixture of the clockwork and the computerised, the antique and the ultramodern, the playful and the sinister. Richter’s musical pieces have been built from similarly heterogeneous materials - record crackle, shortwave radio, glockenspiels, all manner of samples, mostly of acoustic instruments. ….. JF Sebastian's apartment was itself an update of older spaces in which science and sorcery co-existed: the workshops of ETA Hoffmann's inventor-magicians, or of Pinocchio's creator, Geppetto. I think, too, of Auguste Villiers de l'Isle-Adam's astonishing 1886 tale The Future Eve in which Edison, using the expertise he has recently acquired from inventing the phonograph, sets himself the task of constructing an artificial woman. But if there are songs here, they are sung by the gramophone and other recording and playback machines. Richter so successfully effaces himself as author that it is as if he has snuck into a room and recorded the objects as they played (to) themselves. Rather than simply automating his music, as in the case of Pierre Bastien and his mechanical machines, Richter makes us feel that he has merely recorded the unlife of objects. ….. Indeed, the impression of things winding down is persistent on Alphabet 1968. Entropy has not been excluded from Richter's enchanted soundworld. It feels as if the magic is always about to wear off, that the enchanted objects will slip back into the inanimate again at any moment."

After performing at the same Boiler Room a cool decade ago and connecting through a love of the same genre-blurring sonics that have defined their respective careers to date, King Kashmere and Letherette were always destined to make music together.

It was only a matter of time.

And space.

As an artist who champions a dozen or so sounds, rooted in gripping pop culture aesthetics, genre-smashing production and impeccable versemanship, King Kashmere’s quest to perfect the unperfectable has seen him carve out a unique (and ever-shifting) point on the rap map.

Letherette are a duo; two school friends from Wolverhampton, with a rich release history spanning Ninja Tune and beyond, however, their current form fluxes and shifts with each creative endeavour (depending on where either they find themselves at any given fork in the road).

King Kashmere x Letherette’s collaborative EP represents something of a distillation process; avenues of thought and feeling presented as ‘TR3B’; a 7-track EP that feels more like a tapestry than a record, weighted in the experiments of the aforementioned decade, expertly presented for 2022 and beyond.

Lucinda Williams’ music has gotten her through her darkest days. It’s been that way since growing up amid family chaos in the Deep South, as she recounts in her candid new memoir, Don’t Tell Anybody the Secrets I told You. Over the past two years, it’s been the force driving her recovery from a debilitating stroke she suffered on November 17, 2020, at age 67. Her masterful, multi-Grammy-winning songwriting has never deserted her. To wit, her stunning, sixteenth studio album, Stories from a Rock n Roll Heart, brims over with some of the best work of her career. And though Williams can no longer play her beloved guitar – a constant companion since age 12 – her distinctive vocals sound better than ever. The band rocks out on the album’s jubilant opening track, “Let’s Get the Band Back Together,” which features a gang of background singers, including Margo Price and Buddy Miller. Inspired by “that need for community after all the isolation of the pandemic,” Williams offers, the song is “about getting old friends together again who’d drifted apart.” Price also joins her on the bluesy protest, “This Is Not My Town.” The evocative “New York Comeback” also includes guest vocalists – Bruce Springsteen and Patti Scialfa. A Lucinda Williams fan, Springsteen had joined her onstage in London a few years back, and he and Scialfa had wanted to contribute to a Williams album for a while. With Reese Wynans on B3 and the Pettibone-Mathis guitar attack, the musical setting perfectly matches the theme of “Comeback,” as well as on the catchy story-song “Rock N’ Roll Heart,” to which Springsteen and Scialfa also contributed vocals. Says Williams, “Having Bruce and Patti on these songs feels really great. It’s just so cool!” As she promises on the powerful last track of Stories from a Rock n Roll Heart–one of the best albums of her career–Lucinda Williams is “never gonna fade away.”

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Opening with euphoric keys and soothing birdsong, Jman & The Argonautz’ debut LP ‘Therapy In Session’ feels like a seminal moment. Not just for the band (it’s not everyday you reveal your debut album to the world) but also in the HF canon.
As a label founded on emcees and breaks, the notion of releasing a fully fledged LIVE studio album, crafted by a 6-piece of likeminded and deeply connected musicians makes for a hugely refreshing kink in the arc, at a time when championing true art has never been more important.
The thing we love most about ’Therapy In Session’ is the sense of togetherness that runs through the album. From the aforementioned opening notes to the very last cymbal, every member bringing out the very best in one another as the track list unfolds. Everything poised and perfectly measured, Jman’s lyrical dexterity and Maddy’s accompanying melodies offering up a rich assortment of emotion and mood for the band to blanket in warm arrangements.

Above all else, ‘Therapy In Session’ represents catharsis for both Jman and The Argonautz; each track a deep dive into the highs and the lows, fears, lessons and regrets that life too often throws at us; 16-tracks, each eloquent and razor sharp at every turn.

Omena proudly presents 'Ceramics' by Saine, the much awaited follow-up to 'For The Dreamers' released on Omena in 2017.

Manoeuvring between styles and atmospheres comes second nature to Saine, but what's truly highlighted here is emotion - steering away from short-lived trends, the LP offers a non-forced listening experience by an artist exploring the different facets of what his music can be.

Swaying analogue synthesiser arpeggios, playful beat-work and what feels like echoes from an alternate dimension sum up a full-length which pushes and pulls at the fabric of what you've come to expect from Saine.

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.

The Search for God is a wake-up call for a troubled world that’s still worth saving, animated by a belief in the power of small connections to add up to big changes. At 10 songs delivered in a brief 15 minutes, Jimmy Whispers’ long-awaited sophomore album feels present in a way that feels brand new for the cult auteur. Like many of us, Jimmy has been affected by the pressure of the past few years. After embracing sobriety in 2019, and now as a filmmaker sharing the stories of lesser known Los Angeles community members, he’s brought his dreaming down to earth, while turning its direction even further out.

Recorded with his longtime friend Ziyad Asrar of the band Whitney (and re-recorded after a hard drive incident destroyed the original files), The Search for God was created in the wake of Jimmy’s COVID isolation, and returns to some teen influences that are out of step with the chill/lo-fi LA indie rock scene he’s found himself lumped in with. Created mostly with two vintage synths, a single Roland CR5000 drum machine, and a busted karaoke machine, it channels Midwestern emo, the Beach Boys’ Smile, subtle nods at hyper-pop production, and forgotten jewel-box era college radio of the early aughts into a pure pop sound that transcends easy categorization.

The album’s standout single—and its statement of purpose—is “Hellscape,” which packs more into a minute and 40 seconds than you’d think possible: multiple immediately-unforgettable hooks, kaleidoscopic keyboards, and a bracing reminder that even the most transcendent moments are rooted in a world full of suffering. “This is a fucking hellscape,” Jimmy sings. “This is real life / this is happening.”

That may sound like punk nihilism, but The Search for God is anything but. Every lyrical acknowledgment of how fucked things are right now comes with a promise that we can still make positive changes. Jimmy calls it “God”; you might call it Love or Peace or A Place In the Universe That Makes Some Kind of Sense.

Will The Search for God deliver whatever that is to you? Of course not. At its heart, it’s still just a really good pop album. But maybe that’s enough. For a minute or two at a time, Jimmy’s music cracks open a space where the divine can enter our lives. The utopia we’ve all been dreaming of is already here if we’re just willing to build it. Jimmy Whispers is there, ready to add his voice, whenever we want to reach out.

Green Monster, the 4th Kito Jempere studio album is a journey through love, interconnectedness and creative freedom, bound together by musical friendship that breaks through walls, borders, languages and shapes; accumulated over a celebrated twenty year career and ten years of Kito Jempere.

Over fourteen tracks Kito teams up with over 26 artists from all over the world: a range of talented artists including Warp records artist Jimi Tenor, Red Snapper drummer Rich Thair, Azari & III ex-vocalist Starving Yet Full, L.I.E.S. records Lipelis (on bass), Curly Castro and SINDYSMAN. The album blends hip-hop, free-flowing jazz and world-building soundscapes into a piece dedicated to Kito’s musical roots; marrying multiple artforms, cultural influences and international artists into a body of work that feels deeply personal, healing and detailed. The accompanying artwork is a world created by Kito made using Midjourney prompt, connecting the albums audio world with visible objects — both vinyl and CD will contain booklets with lyrics and the visual world of Green Monster.

Kito describes the album ‘like getting Ennio Morricone, Weezer, The Beatles, Oneothrix Point Never, Eduard Artemiev, Jaga Jazzist, Massive Attack, Fugazi, Jimi Tenor, Hans Zimmer, Radiohead, John Cage and Aphex Twin all together, then collaborating with movie-directors Wes Anderson, David Lynch, Dziga Vertov and Andrei Tarkovskiy.’ Used as a metaphor to help create his album.

Bobby Harden & The Soulful Saints are proud to announce their debut album, "Bridge of Love." The album's ten original compositions are presented in sparklingly-clear stereo sound and run the soul gamut, from grits-n-bricks R&B ('Played a Fool by You') to throw-back psychedelia ('One Tribe'), svelte seventies pop ('One Night of the Week') and some seriously sophisticated ballads ('Wounded Hearts', 'Bridge of Love'). Together they document Bobby's life journey in song. Through youthful self-doubt in the opening track 'It's My Time', to confirmation on the exuberant finale 'Raise Your Mind', Bobby proves that faith and hard work can pay dividends. "Life is a joy when you free your soul."Throughout the album, Harden's voice is tailored to perfection by the almost impossibly dexterous Soulful Saints, and further dressed to the nines by an accoutrement of Latin percussion, full-on horns, high-flying backing singers and even a string quartet. This comes as no surprise as The Soulful Saints have performed live and recorded together with acts such as Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, Charles Bradley & His Extraordinaires, Lee Fields & The Expressions, The Budos Band, Mark Ronson, Antibalas, The Impressions, & The Wu-Tang Clan.The album is produced by Dala Records founder Billy Aukstik, and recorded at Hive Mind Recording in Brooklyn, New York. Kurtis Powers of BQE Records Co-Executive Produced the album along with Aukstik.

Bobby Harden & The Soulful Saints are proud to announce their debut album, "Bridge of Love." The album's ten original compositions are presented in sparklingly-clear stereo sound and run the soul gamut, from grits-n-bricks R&B ('Played a Fool by You') to throw-back psychedelia ('One Tribe'), svelte seventies pop ('One Night of the Week') and some seriously sophisticated ballads ('Wounded Hearts', 'Bridge of Love'). Together they document Bobby's life journey in song. Through youthful self-doubt in the opening track 'It's My Time', to confirmation on the exuberant finale 'Raise Your Mind', Bobby proves that faith and hard work can pay dividends. "Life is a joy when you free your soul."Throughout the album, Harden's voice is tailored to perfection by the almost impossibly dexterous Soulful Saints, and further dressed to the nines by an accoutrement of Latin percussion, full-on horns, high-flying backing singers and even a string quartet. This comes as no surprise as The Soulful Saints have performed live and recorded together with acts such as Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, Charles Bradley & His Extraordinaires, Lee Fields & The Expressions, The Budos Band, Mark Ronson, Antibalas, The Impressions, & The Wu-Tang Clan.The album is produced by Dala Records founder Billy Aukstik, and recorded at Hive Mind Recording in Brooklyn, New York. Kurtis Powers of BQE Records Co-Executive Produced the album along with Aukstik.

Born from the fractal innerworld of Vymethoxy Redspiders,
better known as Urocerus Gigas from Leeds-based xenofeminist
crisis energy rock duo Guttersnipe, The Ephemeron Loop's
debut is a synaesthetic acid bath that cracks open the doors of
perception to reveal a sonic landscape of ineffable beauty,
divine femininity and continual transformation.

"PsychonauticEscapism" sublimes Guttersnipe's teeth-gnashing spacegrindaesthetic leaving washes of dream pop ambience, dilated
speedcore fusillades and shapeshifting psychedelic dub effects.

It's an album that lodges itself creatively between Cocteau
Twins, Arca, Basic Channel and Napalm Death, lysergically
fluxing imperceptibly between seemingly contradictory sonics
and philosophies. Miss VR took 14 long, difficult years to write
the album, which developed cautiously as she broke through
the misery of her pre-transition life with shoegaze music, rave
and psychedelic drugs in Leeds' queer underground. An
existence languishing in negativity, soundtracked by extreme
music was replaced with the opportunity to experience
euphoria, elation and ecstatic freedom, emotions that coalesce
sensually on "Psychonautic Escapism".

These formativeexperiences are the album's initial building blocks, assembled between 2007 and 2018 as Miss VR came to grips with her
reality as an autistic/ADHD trans woman and the multidimensional psychotropic experiences that assisted that realization. And as V's worldview expanded and shifted as she lived a fresh life, the music itself developed spiritually. In 2018,after being impressed with producer Ross Halden's work with Guttersnipe, Miss VR asked him to assist her with developing The Ephemeron Loop's fragmented songs and visions. "I learned a lot about why people don't usually combine various kinds of sounds or styles in music," she admits. "It is very difficult to get it to all work together!" But after two-and-a-half years of the duo navigating a "labyrinth of fragmented Reason 5 and Logic
projects," re-recording and processing, and working tirelessly on
complex arrangements and compositions, they eventually found
a light at the end of the tunnel. The finished album is towering
and ambitious, Escher-like in its illusory reconstruction of
familiar elements into brain-altering forms. The album begins
with 'Psychonautic Escapism (Cold Alienation)', decorating Miss
VR's disembodied moans with throbbing dub techno synths,
insectoid digital percussion and disorientating high-BPM
electronics.

Her vocals hover weightlessly between My Bloody Valentine's Bilinda Butcher and Cocteau Twins' Elizabeth Fraser, and on 'Lattice Dysmorphism of Lysothymic Oneiroid Cytoterrain' drift against grinding industrial hardcore kicks, serrated bass and Lorenzo Senni-esque trance pointillism. On 'Trench Through Pink Death', Miss VR's voice mutates into a shrill scream as she directs the music from splattered freeflowing doom into harsh hyper-speed death metal and
breakcore. Woven together with both precision and delicacy, "Psychonautic Escapism" turns a rough patchwork of ideas,
experiences, feelings and vivid emotions into a glorious neon
tapestry. In living and exploring the realities of autism, ADHD
and trans identity, Vymethoxy Redspiders has masterminded a
sonic language that feels fresh, urgent and shockingly honest.
Psychedelic is a term that gets thrown around far too loosely at
the moment - in this case there's just no better way of
describing the album's scope.

Robin Saville - one half of the influential duo ISAN - returns to Morr Music with »Lore«, his fourth solo album to date. After 2020’s »Build A Diorama«, the British musician takes his love for field recordings, whirring pads, hovering bells and subtle electronics further, adding extra depth to both his sonic palette and his storytelling, focussing on biological diversity and its implications for human life.

For many years now, ›look and listen‹ has been Robin Saville's motto on his regular environmental explorations. The avid ambler does not just enjoy being out and about in nature; it is an important inspiration for his creative work as well. Sounds, smells, colours and even soil properties add to the experience. Equipped with a microphone and a recording device, Saville documents his strolls, using these recordings as a base for his compositions. »The field recordings on the album were made very locally this time, for obvious reasons,« he says. Welcome to the sonic landscape of the UK's East Anglia.

»Judith Avenue«, the opening track, is a great example of how Saville evolved his perspective on the sounds of nature: »It is a residential street, fading into a scrubby, wild landscape. There, I made a recording of nightingales at dusk. Such romantic birds! The males fly here from Africa a couple of weeks ahead of the females. They find a good territory, and at dusk, when all the other birds are going quiet, they start to sing to tempt the females down from their migratory flight paths. This has happened for thousands of years. However, the patch of ground where I made the recordings is earmarked for development and I don't suppose it'll happen there again. The recordings therefore become part of the history of that place, the lore.«

Recording the sounds of nature and enriching them with electronic sorcery, Saville is not only a documenting preservationist; he also translates these recordings into meaningful musical miniatures. Building on the soundscapes that marked his previous LP »Build A Diorama«, »Lore« is dominated by both open-hearted melancholy and more upbeat rhythms. But even when the music sounds quirky and loose, there is always deeper meaning. The album is characterised by an ever present melancholy about the threatening loss of living spaces, and a celebration of their beauty. This simultaneity turns the tracks into existential meditations about our human habitat. Saville enriches our lives musically by addressing the very issues we often ignore. At the same time, he becomes an agent of hope and change. Moving between light and dark, »Lore« is a musical allegory of where we stand today.

»The album is a document of places and times and while it is certainly a celebration of those things, it is also a record of things we are losing. That's how interaction with nature feels to me nowadays: something precious and amazing, but with an underlying sadness about the destructive relationship that humanity seems inevitably to have with the world around it.«

Let's not lose any more things.

Twenty-five years later, Little Plastic Castle feels like a greatest hits collection. Her highest charting release on Billboard (peaking at #22) and containing her third Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance - Female (“Glass House”), Ani DiFranco’s ninth studio album shows the Little Folksinger grappling with her independent career bubbling up into the mainstream — dissection of her fashion choices, a new expanded listenership encroaching on the die-hards, examination of what it means to sell out — encapsulated in singalongs so indelible that they’re staples of her live set decades later. This 25th Anniversary Edition sees a new remaster by Heba Kadry, the addition of three bonus tracks mixed by Tchad Blake, and a new CD package and first-time release on vinyl (2 LP). To make Little Plastic Castle, Ani returned to one of her favorite places to record in that era—the live-in studio the Congress House in Austin, Texas. In this relaxed setting she commented, "This album seemed to happen more organically than earlier studio releases." Ani is joined by drummer Andy Stochansky and bassist Jason Mercer who played with her on her 1997 tours, as well as bassist Sara Lee who toured with Ani in 1996. LPC also prominently features outside musicians including drummer Jerry Marotta (Peter Gabriel, Indigo Girls), a horn section composed of three Austin session musicians who add flavor to "Little Plastic Castle" and "Deep Dish," and trumpeter Jon Hassell (Brian Eno, Talking Heads) providing the sustained subtle solo on the 14-minute final track "Pulse." The three bonus tracks are recordings of Ani playing with the rhythm section of Sara Lee and Jerry Marotta, a trio that never reassembled after their single day of tracking. Though Ani described it as “the most light-hearted album I’ve made in a long time,” this record covers a wide range of topics — the impermanence of existence ("Fuel"), mutual respect ("Pixie"), forgiveness ("As Is"), drugs (“Two Little Girls”) — and emotions.

Twenty-five years later, Little Plastic Castle feels like a greatest hits collection. Her highest charting release on Billboard (peaking at #22) and containing her third Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance - Female (“Glass House”), Ani DiFranco’s ninth studio album shows the Little Folksinger grappling with her independent career bubbling up into the mainstream — dissection of her fashion choices, a new expanded listenership encroaching on the die-hards, examination of what it means to sell out — encapsulated in singalongs so indelible that they’re staples of her live set decades later. This 25th Anniversary Edition sees a new remaster by Heba Kadry, the addition of three bonus tracks mixed by Tchad Blake, and a new CD package and first-time release on vinyl (2 LP). To make Little Plastic Castle, Ani returned to one of her favorite places to record in that era—the live-in studio the Congress House in Austin, Texas. In this relaxed setting she commented, "This album seemed to happen more organically than earlier studio releases." Ani is joined by drummer Andy Stochansky and bassist Jason Mercer who played with her on her 1997 tours, as well as bassist Sara Lee who toured with Ani in 1996. LPC also prominently features outside musicians including drummer Jerry Marotta (Peter Gabriel, Indigo Girls), a horn section composed of three Austin session musicians who add flavor to "Little Plastic Castle" and "Deep Dish," and trumpeter Jon Hassell (Brian Eno, Talking Heads) providing the sustained subtle solo on the 14-minute final track "Pulse." The three bonus tracks are recordings of Ani playing with the rhythm section of Sara Lee and Jerry Marotta, a trio that never reassembled after their single day of tracking. Though Ani described it as “the most light-hearted album I’ve made in a long time,” this record covers a wide range of topics — the impermanence of existence ("Fuel"), mutual respect ("Pixie"), forgiveness ("As Is"), drugs (“Two Little Girls”) — and emotions.

Urban Desire is Genya Ravan creating music on her terms after artistically successful work with producers Richard Perry, Jimmy Miller, and Jim Price, along with the three strong albums she recorded with Ten Wheel Drive. As producer of the prototypical punk band the Dead Boys and their classic single "Sonic Reducer," Ravan was an essential part of the new wave explosion of the '70s, which was a blend of punk rock and power pop. Urban Desire is the quintessential new wave album, and though it caused a stir, it has never fully been recognized as the groundbreaking work it is. A driving cover of the Supremes hit "Back in My Arms Again" has guitarists Conrad Taylor and Ritchie Fliegler fragmenting Deep Purple's "My Woman from Tokyo" riff under Ravan's brilliant New York party atmosphere. That comes right after her duet with Lou Reed, a tune called "Aye Co'lorado," one of the album's highlights written by Ravan and keyboard player Charlie Giordano. Classic girl group vocals, blues sensibilities, and the hard edge of underground rock & roll are the ingredients that propel "Jerry's Pigeons" and "Cornered," while a John Cale signature tune, "Darling, I Need You," becomes a barroom brawl -- and that's thanks to the band assembled for this: Bobby Chen on drums, Don Nossov on bass, along with the aforementioned Fliegler, Taylor, and Giordano. Ravan's harp playing pushes "Messin Around," which keeps up the intensity -- and volume. Joe Droukas, who would author the successful "Junkman" duet with Ian Hunter on Ravan's next outing, ...And I Mean It, brings the disc to a close with his third composition on Urban Desire, a tune called "Shadowboxing." Genya gets mellow with this performance, which feels like Ten Wheel Drive meets the Rolling Stones at the "Memory Motel." A bit of a different groove from the equally profound ...And I Mean It, which was released a year later. -Joe Viglione, AllMusic

Urban Desire is Genya Ravan creating music on her terms after artistically successful work with producers Richard Perry, Jimmy Miller, and Jim Price, along with the three strong albums she recorded with Ten Wheel Drive. As producer of the prototypical punk band the Dead Boys and their classic single "Sonic Reducer," Ravan was an essential part of the new wave explosion of the '70s, which was a blend of punk rock and power pop. Urban Desire is the quintessential new wave album, and though it caused a stir, it has never fully been recognized as the groundbreaking work it is. A driving cover of the Supremes hit "Back in My Arms Again" has guitarists Conrad Taylor and Ritchie Fliegler fragmenting Deep Purple's "My Woman from Tokyo" riff under Ravan's brilliant New York party atmosphere. That comes right after her duet with Lou Reed, a tune called "Aye Co'lorado," one of the album's highlights written by Ravan and keyboard player Charlie Giordano. Classic girl group vocals, blues sensibilities, and the hard edge of underground rock & roll are the ingredients that propel "Jerry's Pigeons" and "Cornered," while a John Cale signature tune, "Darling, I Need You," becomes a barroom brawl -- and that's thanks to the band assembled for this: Bobby Chen on drums, Don Nossov on bass, along with the aforementioned Fliegler, Taylor, and Giordano. Ravan's harp playing pushes "Messin Around," which keeps up the intensity -- and volume. Joe Droukas, who would author the successful "Junkman" duet with Ian Hunter on Ravan's next outing, ...And I Mean It, brings the disc to a close with his third composition on Urban Desire, a tune called "Shadowboxing." Genya gets mellow with this performance, which feels like Ten Wheel Drive meets the Rolling Stones at the "Memory Motel." A bit of a different groove from the equally profound ...And I Mean It, which was released a year later. -Joe Viglione, AllMusic

Lost soul phenomenon Lewis Taylor's Numb finally arrives on double vinyl! One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, most enigmatic figures and most under-appreciated talents, Andrew Lewis Taylor is a prodigious multi-instrumentalist and eclectic polymath. He enjoys a fiercely loyal following which, over the years, has included celebrity champions like Bowie, Elton and D'Angelo. Numb is Taylor's sixth album, initially released on his own label Slow Reality (an anagram of his name) and licensed to Be With for this long-awaited physical edition. It captures Taylor's wholly unique, intoxicating take on lush, late-night psychedelic soul music.

Lewis wrote and recorded these 10 brand new tracks after a 17 year break from making music, although the album came together over a two-year period. The years away have done nothing to dull Taylor's unique musical vision. He still astounds. The lyrical themes, however, have shifted. Understandably, more than a decade and a half of soul searching and unflinching self-examination cannot fail to influence this most honest of songwriters, and boy does it show. Numb marks a return to the darker, more mysterious side of his output: "Brian Wilson-channels-Smokey Robinson atmospheres", as Mojo put it recently.

After playing a rapturously received gig at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC in 2006, Lewis unceremoniously walked away from music and disappeared completely. An interview in 2016 shed light on some of the reasons for Taylor’s withdrawal from the business, but there was no hint of a return anytime soon. Then in June 2021, news emerged out of the blue that he was readying new music alongside Sabina Smyth with whom he had worked first time around.

On Numb, Lewis deftly balances stark, soul-bearing lyrics with moody mid-tempo pop-soul sheen. He deals candidly with depression, mental turmoil, even thoughts of suicide - clearly more personal than Taylor's earlier songs. The music is rich, warm and layered, with infectious melodies and hooks that stick with you. A true grower of an LP, it really does reward repeated listens. As Jim Irvin in Mojo reflected, "despite the depths these plumb, it's a curiously uplifting experience, unfurling like a concept album about life's challenges with an optimistic beauty at its heart."

Triumphant dubwise horns ring out yet, almost instantly, “Final Hour” takes on a dark, downbeat vibe. With lyrics that confront (and, seemingly, confound) death head-on, Lewis ensures the groove is still there, the beats still swing and your head still nods, strings glissade. Woven around delicate yet insistent piano and subtle strings over a killer bassline, the title track “Numb” is a good example of the lyrical themes throughout the album. As Taylor reflects, "So removed I feel no pain / And for all I know I could be having the time of my life" with a coda that feels very much in conversation with Brian Wilson's finest harmonies. "Feels So Good" is sophisticated 90s-sounding soul of the highest order. The music and vocals feel simultaneously optimistic and despondent. Downlifting. A neat trick, and one Lewis has been so adept at over the years. "Apathy" is a mini-epic, a symphonic-soul gem which builds and glides and, eventually, soars. “Worried Mind" is another slow-builder, creeping out the gate in a sketchy, discordant fashion before climbing to half-crescendo but never quite breaking free of its disorientating restraint.

The brighter "Please" presents a more hopeful mood, with the refrain "I still believe" ringing out as Lewis harmonises with himself. "Brave Heart" quietly struts from step one, as Lewis's falsetto swaggers over a downtempo backdrop with ace echoey drums, beautiful strings and serene electric guitar. Closing out Side C, "Is It Cool" answers its own (non-) question with a spellbinding five and a half minutes of swoonsome deep soul that oscillates between a restrained, barely-there backdrop and a lushly full musical accompaniment of acoustic and electric guitar and organ over bass and slick drums. The penultimate track "Nearer" is a magical, soul-stirring ballad in which Lewis sings of reaching a sweet salvation and achieving a peace of mind. If the hairs on the back of your neck aren't standing up by the midway point, you might need to check your pulse. Album closer and true tear-jerker "Being Broken" places Lewis's gorgeous voice high in the mix and the wordless falsetto and melodies invite you to ponder what Pet Sounds might sound like if it were refashioned as a dubby 21st Century electronic soul album. Astonishing.

Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so, as ever, nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry. Turn it up and let the Lewis Taylor sound envelop you.

After the acclaimed ΠΟΛΙΣ, Subheim returns with RAEON; a collection of eight new tracks for lonely evenings and long night drives. With RAEON, Subheim continues to expand into the sonic territory he has steadily been exploring since 2015’s Foray, the album that marked the project’s shift towards moodier, highly textured, lofi compositions through the use of sampling and heavy audio manipulation. While this EP feels like a natural continuation of the producer’s most recent work, it is intentionally stripped of any percussive elements, with the focus being entirely placed on space and melody.

Each composition feels like a distant, fading memory that unfolds faster than you expect it to and dissolves into an echoing nothingness before you’re able to hold on to it for more than a few seconds. Much like a long-distance train passing by or perhaps like a song you might hear in your sleep.

Every piece serves as a different chapter of the same open-ended narrative; one where stillness, grief and hope simultaneously coexist in perfect harmony. Intentionally imperfect, naturally gritty, spacious as ever, this new record balances between fragility and conviction, and once more illustrates the deeply human side of its creator.

In contrast to some of the producer’s darker work, RAEON is filled with an undertone of bittersweet hopefulness and a strong desire for new life. With the juxtaposition of nostalgic, synthesized, analog sounds and neoclassical elements, Subheim strikes the perfect balance between past and future, between melancholy and hope. And while the closing track is almost ironically called “Forget”, its ending will leave you longing for more and wondering what else is there.