quête:field

"bit by bit" is the first full-length release from Toronto-based singer-songwriter Evan J Cartwright. This self produced album from the go-to drummer/collaborator (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Brodie West) presents a highly singular songwriting vision that combines existential lyrics with masterful musicianship. Steeped in jazz melodicism, Cartwright’s trumpet-like phrasing mixed with contemporary composition presents an eclectic art song performed by an artist that could perhaps be best described as a post-modern Chet Baker. Deep poetic observations on love and time paint an affecting picture of an artist reflecting on life’s universal truths. Visual in nature, "bit by bit" places its audience within a world of musical leitmotifs extracted from field recordings of bells and birdsong. Collected during years of touring, these sounds evoke extant spaces beyond that which the music inhabits. The use of this source material in its unaltered form evokes the feeling of a technicolour European film at one moment and then, as the extrapolated melodies are meticulously translated into electronic tone bank sequences, a modernist setting the next. One carillon melody is used as the basis for a wealth of the album’s musical material before its origin is finally revealed by the chiming of bells in the last seconds of the album. The result is a fragment of space between the constructed world of the musical compositions and the candid world of documentation, inviting the listener to ponder whether those two worlds are distinct or whether the songs and music are not simply “field recordings” themselves. Throughout "bit by bit" Cartwright drops staggering revelations hiding in plain prose that often involve the contemplation of time. In I Don’t Know he states “if I only trusted time / then I would wish it all away” and nearing the album’s end he opens impossibly blue with the phrase “the impossible truth of time”, playfully inserting a pregnant pause before the word time. A drummer’s fixation, to be certain, the album’s recurring theme of time is eclipsed only by Cartwright’s contemplation of human relationships. Here he elaborates on some of the album’s subjects: “Many of the lyrics circle, and try to give a name to the illegible space between human beings. “i DON’t know” celebrates the fact that we will never truly understand what love is. Its message is one of assurance. It says that we can never really touch love, and that is ok. “and you’ve got nobuddy” refers to life’s great tragedy: that we are unable to read each others’ experiences, and in reaction to this, we separate ourselves.” The entirety of "bit by bit" is a continuous work. There is seldom a clear demarcation of where one piece ends and another begins and when this does occur, it is done crudely, as if someone is flipping through a series of broadcasted channels. At times words are sliced right out of their lines and replaced by pure tones. This is both a comical interpretation of censorship and a reminder that there are things in life that will forever remain unseen and illegible. In fact, this statement lies at the centre of the LP and although hidden beauty does reveal itself through repeated listenings, "bit by bit’s" eccentric world remains just out of reach — an imaginary second story room viewed from a crowded city street.

140g Black vinyl LP – Printed inner sleeve - Sealed plastic sleeve

In Trux We Pux is an editorial project organized by the Porto based label and collective Favela Discos. Focusing on the city’s thriving experimental and improvised music scene, it sets out to portrait in a series of four volumes some of the characteristic sounds and collaborative practices that have been in development in Porto during the last few years.

In Trux We Pux 01, the first record of the collection, is focused on the electronic side of the eclectic but characteristic experimental and improvised scene in Porto, and contains a selection of 23 musicians that have been developing their own take on whatever niche genre they dwell in. Among the list of musicians are Filipe Silva (HHY & The Macumbas), Crónica Electrónica’s heads @c, ocp, coletivo vandalismo and several others that populate a thriving scene that spans a wide gamut of sounds, from delicate to abrasive.

As the tracks themselves, the different approaches to composition and production add to this compilation’s schizophrenia. The first side of the record offers us a spacious and abstract scenery, starting with a collage of field recordings, banjos, and fans, narrated by google translate’s voice. The following two tracks flow along the granular tide of ambient spaces and atmospheres slowing down a bit before the second side turns around 180º and heads towards more rhythmic fields.

Coletivo vandalismo & querido lider present us with their exploration of half balearic, half german-synth-music pulsing away at the beat of broken down dancehallish drums and reggae breaks. Challenger & Lorr No’s track is a trainwreck heading down a break driven jungle that lead us to the album’s closing arguments: MOSCXS’ sludged beat goth-step exploration around the poem “Poema Agreste” by Glória de Sant’Anna.

Direct from the Parisian underground STEVE FRISCO returns with an homage to the SERIE LIMITEE vinyl only label created by MONSIEUR CEDRIC & himself. Having established a French connection via JORDAN FIELDS, this hot producer is set to feed the clubs with his flavor of deep vibes. Limited 1-Sider

In 1997 and 1998, the late great Japanese composer, producer, and DJ Susumu Yokota released two of the most eclectic albums of his decades-long career, Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace. Recorded under his Stevia alias for Tokyo Techno pioneer DJ Miku’s Newstage Records/NS-COM, they were Yokota-san’s homage to the foundational days of club music in Japan.

This year, Glossy Mistakes are proud to present the first official vinyl editions of Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace, originally released on CD during the golden days of the format. Packaged in reimagined cover artwork created by the celebrated Japanese visual artist Masaho Anotani, these two albums perfectly capture the diversity at the heart of Yokota-san’s oeuvre. Across Greenpeace sees Yokota-san conjuring up a heady concoction of dusty loops, sampledelic breaks, kraut-rock and psychedelic downbeat. A remarkable listening experience based on the inspired era of a genius.

When Yokota-san wrote and produced the music on Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace in 1997, he was reflecting on the broader culture that surrounded dance music in Japan in the early to mid-nineties. It was an era when the psychedelic culture of late sixties America, the afterglow of UK acid house/rave, the new age movement and cyberpunk dovetailed together. Within DJ Miku and Yokota-san’s social circles, the thinking of Timothy Leary, Ram Dass, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs electrified the air.

By 1996, the moment, brilliant and blinding as it was, was over. “We all felt that the rave scene fizzled out,” DJ Miku says. As he puts it, there was a collective feeling around him that it had all become too much. From the calm that followed, DJ Miku, Yokota-san and their open-eared peers made the decision to switch tracks and start from scratch. DJ Miku believes that with his Stevia releases, Fruits of The Room and Greenpeace, Yokota-san wanted to express the sweet and sour nature of the passing of those wild early days and his wish for true peace. “At the time, we saw eye-to-eye, with an implicit understanding of each other,” he explains. “Even now, twenty-five years later, I am confident it was like that.”

Unrestrained by notions of style or genre, there is a distinct air of freedom that permeates Picture Music, the new project from André Bratten. On what is his fifth album, the electronic visionary didn't enter the studio with the notion of making a particular type of record. Conversely, it was viewed as an opportunity to simply create - to let the music take over and guide the journey. Bringing together sparse strings, meditative synths, lingering piano chords and fleeting field recordings, the result is a collection of captivating sonic vignettes - deftly assembled into something profound and endearing. Eschewing the darker, more abrasive elements of most recent LP Silvester, Picture Music features some of Bratten's most accessible and melodic music to date - a shift in outlook no doubt expedited by the isolation of multiple Covid-19 lockdowns. These minimalist compositions ruminate on how the past two years have forced people to reconsider the concept of "normal life", as well as the birth of Bratten's second child - an experience he describes as "like death in reverse". The album title is taken from a compilation on the legendary Sky Records, a label that has been an enduring source of inspiration for Bratten along with that of Klaus Schultze's Innovative Communication. But rather than mimicking the work of these electronic luminaries,Picture Music sees him forge his own path: one that uncovers beauty in the simplicities of everyday life. Norwegian electronic artist André Bratten released his debut album Be A Man You Ant on Prins Thomas' Full Pupp label in 2013. He has since released three albums on Smalltown Supersound, and more recently produced Cracks, the acclaimed project from avant-garde saxophonist Benedik Giske. On June 10th Bratten returns with fifth studio album Picture Music.

Tresor Records is proud to announce 333 Mirrors from Torus, the artist alias of Joeri Woudstra. Coupled with its catalogue number
333, it indicates the large-scale conceptual thoughts behind the record, typical of Woudstra's practice. As an artist, he sets out to
frame re-interpretable references that trigger some subconscious recognition in listeners, with no set way to interpret them but leading to singular feelings and thought processes. The eect, a combination of static electronic sounds and looser field recordings, speaks to each listener differently.

333 Mirrors is, in part, the continuation of a project called These Cars Do Not Exist, made with videographer Mark Prendergast during the Covid-19 limbo. The live performed short film sold out selected popup cinemas in 2020 in a short sprint of shows. Two of the tracks on that project, Sound of the Drums and Chroniko, are re-imagined on 333 Mirrors, emanating as versions created in live performances. Set to be released as a single, Chroniko VIP will be accompanied by an enduring theme from that project, the three-winged bird, this time deceased. On 333 Mirrors, in exploring the ambient, stretched sonic universe of this project more, Woudstra moves from these three winged birds to the phoenix, finding a rebirth on the b-side with tracks that inhabit a similar sound as Deep Mid, Torus's inclusion on the recent Tresor 30 compilation. The sound of Torus places importance on the multi-faceted approach to sampling, pushing the idea behind the practice beyond usual boundaries. How to break the unwritten rules? Woudstra looks within by resampling previous Torus releases and reverse-engineering the sounds of the most revered pop and electronic musicians alive today, references that trigger recognition, melancholy and nostalgia in the listener.

3000 Mirrors features a staccato arpeggiating rigid pattern, the sonic eect of standing in front of a strobe until it becomes the anchor. Silence and interruption are used as a device to explore the physically uncomfortable, more the central compositional tool than the disrupted harmonic structures. Woudstra has never stepped foot in Tresor, so when writing this record, an enduring question spoke to him, what is Tresor when you have never been? How do you sample the essence of an unknown location? The closing track, Omnia, is the sound of anticipation, where the rave beckons. This imagined industrial space is calling for you.

Tape

New recordings by Spanish director and visual artist Carlos Casas. Sound and Radio Frequencies captured in location in Mont Aigu. Part of Fieldworks#26.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

The latest offering from 12th Isle collects a variety of recordings from Vasily Stepanov and Vlad Dobrovolski as part of their on-going S A D project (Udacha/Muscut). As part of their process, S A D sample and distort old de-magnetised tapes, constantly adding to and reworking their own sound-world. Layers of kosmiche synthesisers, off-kilter woodblock percussion and lysergic field recordings interplay with dense ambient textures in a true collage-style approach to music making. Across the nine tracks, multiple collaborations and aliases coalesce to present a thorough look at both artists approach to communicating the world around them. Drawing influence from nature and the outdoor concerts of Vladislav’s band Kurvenschreiber as well as late night free jazz shows and a similar ‘hauntological’ approach seen in Dobrovolski’s recent ‘Playbacks for Dreaming’, the pair express a unique genre-traversing attitude. More from the 12th Isle due very soon!

Credic ist ein fünfköpfiger Melodic-Death-Metal-Juggernaut aus Stuttgart, der klingt, als würde die frühe Göteborg-Szene einen Spaziergang durch die klangliche Unterwelt von 'Stranger Things' machen. Mit 'Vermillion Oceans' präsentieren uns Credic ihr zweites Studioalbum. Atmosphärisch düsterer Melodic Death für Fans von Bands wie Dark Tranquility, Amorphis, In Flames oder At The Gates!

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

Greg Dowling and Shane Johnson return to the Go Deep label for their third album, ‘This Bit of Earth’. Beginning work in the relative normality of 2019 and finishing over the strange summer of 2020, the resulting music mirrors the thoughts that such upheaval brings out - our world and our place in it - while also functioning as a kind of travelogue of journeys past and planned, real and imaginary.

Mixing samples with modular synths, programmed drums with jazz loops, and quirky plugins with outboard gear, the album ranges far and wide while retaining a warm, natural core sound.

The title track opens proceedings on an ambiguous note. A simple double bass motif weaves around a misheard vocal sample, layers of piano and vibraphone take up the call, and the whole thing gradually spins off axis to a distorted, disjointed finish. ‘Suburban Key’ follows on a groove of busy drum work and deep sub bass, the stately piano and strings setting the stage for an undulating synth solo.

Further in, ‘Alice on Jupiter’ takes a deep breath and blends field recordings, gently swelling pads, modular bursts and a recurring picked melody.

‘Back Trace Dub’ strolls the imagined streets of Irish author Kevin Barry’s ‘City of Bohane’, noting the “taint of badness” in the air and revelling in the tense, dub-noir atmosphere. Later on, the spoken word intro of ‘I Could See’ expresses the dread of confinement and the relief and ecstasy of release, a theme the music reflects as it steadily builds to a joyful climax.

And closing the album on an optimistic note, the languid, emotional Culatra Ferry remembers better, beautiful days in the sun and looks hopefully forward to more.

“Highlights are the stunning sonics of Suburban Key, with its dusty groove and fast paced drums, stately piano, and cinematic strings reminiscent of a Four Hero orchestral masterpiece. High As Scaffold is full of warmth and soul and is yet another example of Fish Go Deep going even deeper into the dark blue waters of their brilliant musical minds.” Ban Ban Ton Ton review, Japan

“So good. Real beauty” Laurent Garnier, Radio FG, France

“Really liking this, would love to support on radio” Colleen 'Cosmo' Murphy, WorldwideFM, UK

“Lovely album” Osunlade, Yoruba Soul, US

“Very very nice album...love the new directions here” Charles Webster, Openlab, SA

“Absolutely beautiful piece of work” Darimont, RWAV, Germany

“A lovely LP of eclectic sounds” Jimpster, Freerange Records, UK

“Delightful album this. Very much appreciate the musicianship and we need that in the world right now as the commercial music world starts to fire up its nonsense for the new beginning” Vince Watson, Yoruba, Netherlands

“Such a fucking great body of work, and on par with ANY of the great albums I've listened to recently” Billy Scurry, Ireland

“There’s some REAL magic here. Possibly the deepest year from this duo” Charles Levine, Soul Clap, US

“A fabulous surprise. I'm sure if he were still alive Jose Padilla would have hailed this as his number one album of the year, it certainly is mine” Steve Miller, Afterlife, UK

“Great album... will play in next shows” Franck Roger, Real Tone, France

“Beautifully produced and great atmospherics” Ashley Beedle, Black Science Orchestra, UK

Radio and DJ support from Ron Trent, Hector Romero, Ame, Cian Ó Cíobháin, Bill Brewster, DJ Sprinkles, Harri, Honey Soundsystem, Alexkid, Moodymanc, Hifi Sean, Kassian, Freddie Garcia, 6th Borough Project, Stuart Patterson, Lars Behrenroth, Fred Everything, Mark Roberts, Cut n Shut, Will McGiven, Stefano Tucci, Tristan Jong, Matthias Schober, Trevor Fung, Ben Davis, Max P and more.

Our man in London is back on the label! Exactly 1 year after his first release on Dirt Crew and two very successful records on
his own new imprint “Income Trax” and the New York based “Razor-N-Tape” label. Clive has been consistently growing his following this past year and refining his sound and production. So now we are truly excited to welcome him back, especially as this release will also be on a limited 12” vinyl.

The opener “Pearls” features the amazingly talented London based musician/ composer Jessica Roch on violin and vocals.
It’s an uplifting electronica meets deep house track that shines with positivity and beautiful melodies based on an analogue synth foundation by Clive himself. Truly a new addition to Clive’s musical language.

The A2 track “4 Time” is a swinging groover featuring a lush deep beat topped with piano and strings stabs and consisting of great funk all over. Followed be the super fun “Rough and Tough” as first track on then B side. Clive really gives us his new summer anthem here as far as we are concerned. Dance floor happiness guaranteed and we can’t wait to hear this one in an open field and on a big sound system!

As a treat for all fans, we decided to give “Gravitate” the well-deserved vinyl spot as the closing track to this great new record. This jam got massive support over the last months and is Clive’s best performing track on the digital platforms. Here we remastered it especially for vinyl and it sounds doper than ever! Enjoy!

All tracks have been mastered by Salz Mastering in Cologne. Art & Photography by Break 3000.

Johnny Clarke ruled the dancehall in the mid '70s, using the clever "Flyers Rhythms" that gave some of his tunes an edge with the sound systems. But his voice was always bigger than this and his versatility to sing a wide range of vocal styles has seen him cut through the decades as one of reggae's best voices. Produced by Bunny Lee, mixed at King Tubby's studio, an absolute reggae/roots classic.

Superchunk’s Incidental Music: 1991-1995 is the band’s second compilation of singles, B-sides, and EPs, originally released in 1995 shortly after their landmark album Foolish. It collects fan favorites from soundtracks such as “Shallow End” and B- sides like “On the Mouth,” as well as covers of The Magnetic Fields, The Verlaines, The Chills, and even Motörhead. AllMusic’s Fred Thomas says it all: “Incidental Music is an essential piece of the Superchunk discography and a snapshot of the band as it transitioned from the scrubby radiance of its early days into the more nuanced songwriting machine it became throughout the mid-’90s.” Exclusively for Record Store Day 2022, the double LP makes its first reappearance on vinyl since its original release, with LP1 on opaque green and LP2 on opaque orange housed in a gatefold jacket.

 “As a human being it’s really important to feel and express
emotions whether happy or sad,” says Hiro Amamiya, the
Teleman drummer whose solo guise is Hiro Ama. “I sometimes
struggle to and so these are a collection of songs that explore
different emotions. I want people to feel something through my
music so I called this EP ‘Animal Emotions’.”
 Amamiya follows up on swiftly on 2020’s field recording-heavy
EP ‘Uncertainty’ with a record made in his bedroom and during
a time of introspection to create something even more personal.
“On ‘Uncertainty’ I was using sounds from everywhere and
whatever sounded good,” he says. “But for ‘Animal Emotions’ I
stuck with fewer instruments so the EP feels much more united.
I also used more acoustic instruments as I sometimes feel
electronic music in general lacks some organic and human
elements so I tried to make this EP as organic as possible.”
 However, buried beneath the warm electronics, gently pulsing
grooves, infectious melodies and immersive soundscapes - that
veer from disco strut to IDM via jazz-laced ambient - you’ll still
find some field recordings. “You might not hear them as
obviously as on my previous EP but field recordings are there,”
he says. “I like them because it's very spontaneous and gives
some human feel. It also adds some air to a recording which I
quite like.” On the opener ‘Free Soul’ - which marries funk bass
with subtle electronics and squelchy grooves - you can hear a
voice sample of a woman from Southeast Asia singing a lullaby.
 “I wanted to make an up-tempo and danceable song so I can
dance in my room during the lockdown. I got lost in Jazz music
the last couple of years and it really changed and opened up
the way I make music.” The moods, tones and emotions on the
EP shift as seamlessly as the genres, never quite settling into
one single place and constantly exploring and expanding into
new musical terrain. A process mirrored by Amamiya’s own
varied influences and tastes that were funnelled into the record,
from film soundtracks to IDM to spiritual jazz such as
‘November Cotton Flower’ by Marion Brown and ‘Harvest’ by
Pharoah Sanders.

Gap/ Void is the first collaborative full-length album by Automatisme (the Canadian musician and conceptual artist William Jourdain) and Swiss field recordist, ambient musician, visual artist and writer/academic Stefan Paulus. Jourdain and Paulus first met through shared projects with Mille Plateaux/Force Inc, each contributing to the Ultrablack Of Music anthology and Paulus going on to make several videos for Automatisme tracks issued by the two labels. In early 2021, Paulus approached Jourdain with a proposal based on his field recordings made during numerous mountain expeditions in the Swiss Alps, the Caucasus, and north of the Arctic Circle _ documenting stormy weather, high alpine winds, avalanches, and sounds emanating from glaciers and from the insides of crevices and caves. Paulus created ambient noisescapes from these recordings by splicing and folding them into hundreds of layers of sound: an analog to the geological strata of their geographic sources. The resulting audio mixes, compounding a multiplicity of spatio-temporal excursions, were then further encased in drones using the natural tone series (the traditional zäuerli or wordless yodels of northeastern Switzerland), the monotonic standing drone of Lamonte Young's Dream Syndicate, and the mass chords of early 1970s Kosmische Musik as points of reference. Paulus sent these extended ambient/noise pieces to Jourdain as source material for the latter's bespoke Automatisme techniques, where variable tempo and glitch systems forge more overt minimal techno/IDM works. Gap/Void leads with five rhythmic tracks (cut to 33rpm LP) that feature Automatisme's trademark interstitial digital synthesis and elastic/erratic signal processing, in combination with his own crate-digging `expeditions' through obscure 1970s-80s disco 12-inches, deconstructing their scores and structures to bring these microsamples and sensibilities back to bear on Paulus' deterritorialized sedimental source material…

Awe Kid explores ideas of trans-humanism, evolution and digital immortality on Body Logic, a fantastically lush new album for Atomnation. The immersive 10 track record plays with organic, breathing textures punctuated by moments of digital unrealness to result in an album permeated with a dream-like quality. This contrast is mirrored by the artwork from Portugal's acclaimed The Royal Studio.

Awe Kid is an alias of Sine Language Records co-founder Rick Parsons. It is the product of years spent exploring a multitude of different music. From early days in post-hardcore groups and on to a love of 90s Warp, electronic jazz and more experimental niches, the multi-instrumentalist has now settled on his own unique fusion of breaks, ambient and left-field dance music. This deft studio wizard mixes up melodic nostalgia with forward-thinking sound design using whatever he can get his hands on, from analog and modular hardware, to samplers, field recordings to digital techniques.

Says Parsons, “I love working with digital processes because you get these unexpected moments where you dial something in, that somehow takes on a tangible, organic form in the real world. Searching for these sweet spots was the motivation for the album, contrasting natural textures against synthetic elements, and finding ways to create something that feels like it exists outside of the computer.”

While the album pays homage to dance music traditions, such as the broken beat of title track 'Body Logic', and full-throttle breaks of 'Zenith', these are assimilated and repurposed to create something that defies genre categorization. The listener's journey is perfectly paced, with broody but uplifting cuts of electronica giving way to shimmering, celestial melodies, and dusty breakbeats emerging from dense layers of atmosphere, only for the mood to be reset with soothing, suspenseful synths and haunting vocal samples. Elsewhere, devastatingly emotional ambient is followed by punchy grooves and propulsive melodies to make for a real ride.

PRESSED ON MAROON-COLORED VINYL

The third instalment of “Speshal Blends” instrumental series includes
ten sought-after beats culled from Spesh’s own 6 Shots: Overkill EP,
Che Noir’s Juno album, 1000Words’ compilation, and the Army of
Trust II compilation. This collection further proves that on top of
being one of the nicest emcees on the mic, Spesh is also one of the
illest producers in the game. The cover continues the series’ trend of
tributing the cigar brands most popular for rolling blunts. This time
around Dutch Masters’ packaging gets flipped.