Buscar:five star

REMASTERED

Grönland Records announce a revised, remastered reissue of “Sleepwalkers” by DAVID SYLVIAN. Available as a gatefold 2LP with exclusive art print and as a gatefold digipack CD, this new edition also features the previously unreleased track “Modern Interiors”.

in the 00s, DAVID SYLVIAN produced two of his strongest and most solitary statements, BLEMISH and MANAFON. but those records don’t tell the whole story. during that the same period, SYLVIAN created an alternate body of work: a series of collaborations and side projects with leading talents of pop and improv, electronic and contemporary classical music. the best of these recordings are gathered here on SLEEPWALKERS, meticulously sequenced and remixed: the fruits of one-off meetings and lifelong partnerships, they jump from bliss to intrigue, romance to sensuality, as arch experiments lead into the lushest pop.

the single ‘world citizen – i won’t be disappointed,’ written with RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, is a sublime example, with an impeccable melody and lyric warmed by SYLVIAN’S gorgeous tenor. SYLVIAN has worked with SAKAMOTO for close to three decades. by contrast, on ‘pure genius,’ a collaboration with CHRIS VRENNA aka tweaker, he sounds like he’s walked into a heist flick, singing the part of a delusional, dangerous bedroom genius. as sylvian explains, tracks like this ‘give me a chance to write in a way that’s completely non-personal, playful. it’s an exercise of some kind, working within the parameters of a given assignment.’

intrigue of a different kind drives ‘sugarfuel,’ with music by JEAN-PHILIPPE VERDIN, aka READYMADE FC. the lyrics offered ‘an opportunity to grapple with a more overt sexual theme than anything i’d previously attempted, as suggested by a vocal sample in the original track provided, a threateningly insistent ‘i’m on your side.’ so i took that as my point of entry and ran with it. i would love to write more on this subject should i find the right context. you’re always aware of walking a thin line exploring sexuality with language alone. the failings of the great and the good are strewn all around.’

NINE HORSES’ ‘wonderful world’ strolls in on a black tie bassline and the echoing coos of swedish chanteuse STINA NORDENSTAM, whose high chirps brush hands with SYLVIAN’S lead; there’s the blistering ‘money for all’ by FRIEDMAN and SYLVIAN, an oblique response to the fallout of 9/11 and the war on iraq. this is followed by the last known recording of SYLVIAN’S singing voice in over a decade, ‘do you know me now?’, a live studio recording later augmented by JAN BANG, EIVIND AARSET and ERIK HONORÉ. it’s certainly a title that’s become more relevant over time as SYLVIAN, in the latter stages of his career, repeatedly comes face to face with a new generation of admirers fixated on the life and times of the band formed by his younger self. SYLVIAN is one of only a handful of musicians to have successfully moved on from overt pop beginnings into a domain all his own but is consistently plagued by the misguided desires or expectations of some unfamiliar with his evolution to do a u-turn, pick up where he left off in the late 90s. although this compilation, as well as his writing for NINE HORSES, adequately shows SYLVIAN’S traditional love of melody is
intact, that it’s consistently remained part of his output, there’s no denying his focus has shifted, evolved.
the refusal to embrace complacency, the need to cover new ground ‘as older generations of popular musicians have a moral duty to explore despite, or because of, the greater possibility of failure’ will, i believe, lead to a reassessment of his later work that embraces a sightly more complex relationship with what we’re referring to as ‘melodic’, accompanied by an exploration of improvisation without dogma or beholden to any ‘givens’ for which he’s not infrequently been castigated. for SYLVIAN, there are no such boundaries. it’s obvious that different facets of his work co-exist without conflict but not necessarily for the majority of his audience. again, this places SYLVIAN in the odd, rare, unenviable(?) position of moving forwards leaving many in his devoted audience behind as, should he decide to return to music, it’s unlikely he’ll be aiming to placate an audience in love with work that preceded the 00s. in fact we’ve no idea where new work, should it surface, may lead.

SLEEPWALKERS also spotlights the innovators who contributed to MANAFON and BLEMISH. CHRISTIAN FENNESZ hangs a crackling, shimmering curtain behind the vocal on ‘transit,’ matching his signature mass of sui generis sounds to sylvian’s stately performance. and the title track began with an instrumental handed to SYLVIAN by MARTIN BRANDLMAYR of POLWECHSEL, soon after the first recording session for MANAFON. spite crackles in the gaps between the percussion, and onkyo artists TOSHIMARU NAKAMURA and SACHIKO M set the stage for the scathing lyrics in the chorus.

it cuts close to the bone and so do the two spoken word cuts, ‘angel’ and ‘thermal,’ produced by SAMADHISOUND recording artists JAN BANG and ERIK HONORÉ (and featuring ARVE HENRIKSEN on trumpet). SYLVIAN describes the latter work as a ‘love poem’ to his daughter. ‘‘thermal’ reflects on a period when our time in sonoma, ca was coming to an end. we’d stayed in temporary accommodation which had lulled us into a false sense of security. we had pear, apple, lemon, and figs trees growing in the yard. a small but exotic paradise. a cocoon. but the cracks were beginning to show in the relationship between ex-wife INGRID CHAVEZ and i which is where i think this underlying sense of anxiety, which runs throughout the poem, is derived from, coupled with the need to provide physical and spiritual stability to the children, the youngest of whom was just under two at the time. the poem is addressed to her. our world was dissipating, coming apart at the seams, but we were an island unto ourselves.’

‘five lines’ marked the start of a new partnership with acclaimed young composer DAI FUJIKURA, who at the time of recording was also working on remixes of MANAFON for what became DIED IN THE WOOL. the string quartet was performed by the celebrated ICE ENSEMBLE and written for SYLVIAN, who FUJIKURA cites as an early influence. says SYLVIAN, ‘the composition moves through numerous changes in time signature but as i had no knowledge of what these were i just relied on my gut instinct, and responded, as i always do, with what felt right to me, composing an entirely new melody in the process. some months later i was working in a studio in london and dai dropped by. i rather tentatively asked if he’d like to hear a rough mix of the song as it stood, painfully aware that my contribution might make no sense to him at all but, to my relief he loved the result.’

there’s one further new addition to this collection, the first official release of a track composed in response to the tsunami in fukushma, ‘modern interiors’, featuring SYLVIAN once again in collaboration with BANG and AARSET.

like 2000s EVERYTHING AND NOTHING, SLEEPWALKERS is a retrospective of a particular decade when SYLVIAN was free of major label interference and could follow his own instincts without having to explaining himself – but it’s also an eye-opening complement to his solo releases. as SYLVIAN explains, ‘some collaborations seem to be a one-off exchange but you can never be too certain of that fact. others have been long term. in this respect, RYUICHI comes to mind. there’s others with whom you hope to continue working as you feel you’ve barely scratched the surface. other times offers come out of the blue, welcome, inspired. regardless, it’s wonderfully explorative to have so many possibilities to juggle with. each collaboration seems timely. it’s as if there’s a rightness to the exchange at a given moment in time.’

in the meantime, we hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

‘as many of you will already be aware, despite relatively continuous work on solo albums, i’ve maintained strong ties with a number of musicians throughout my life in one context or another. on this new collection, let’s call it SLEEPWALKERS 2.0, a selection of collaborative work produced over the period encompassing blemish through to manafon, i’ve included compositions by nine horses as well as more fleeting flirtations and one-offs. neglected offspring. represented also is long term friend and writing partner, RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, as well as more recent but potentially equally productive partnerships such as CHRISTIAN FENNESZ, ARVE HENRIKSEN and contemporary classical composer DAI FUJIKURA.
i hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

we contain multitudes. we’re nothing if not contradictory.’

DAVID SYLVIAN, 2010

(consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life: aldous huxley)

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.”

Label favourites Balearic Ensemble return to the fore following last summer's spectacular 'Cachonda' EP, this time with a 12" treasury of wonderful, eclectic dancing music of the highest balearic order. They're joined by Das Komplex, notable for recent excursions on DJ Harvey's Mercury Rising, to round out their five-track excursion for the label: this is the Mediterráneo EP.

Opener 'Pitiusas First' sets the tone with dizzy, downbeat percussions as a bass guitar skates and glissades underfoot; soaring, starry-eyed synth work and Latin organ stabs in concerto. This homage to the islands and islets of Ibiza comes with a note of melancholy, or nostalgia: waking up to find that your best years might have evaded you - and celebrating the fact. It's a maturing of the Residentes sound in a way we haven't heard before; a gorgeous moonlight serenade, the last tango on Formentera, and a tip for orange-tinted sunsets all summer long.

Second track 'Almendros y Drones' takes us deeper into the throes of that distinctive Mediterranean sound with dizzying arpeggios and analogue bass over teetering hihats and fizzing synths; it's an eruptive, volcanic beast of a track that will take liberties with your dancefloor. Over-the-top filter action and driving piano perforations, crashing snares and resonant howls, Almendros, Drones.

The third offering is 'Mojada', taking cues from classic deep house with its deep-set bassline and modular squeaks. It's a slow burner, an aquaplane on Eivissa, cueing 303 squelches and 90s drum machine riffing before its eventual, explosive peak.

After Mojada we enter the chugging, gritty realm of Das Komplex's remixes. He refashions the heady throes of 'Mojada' into a driving, churning unit; percussions, distorted into infinity; basslines bent and buckled into submission; slabs of piano lathered with space echo delay. Wonky late-nite dancing music at its very best.

Extra treat: Das Komplex also left us his 'Pineapple Bonus Mix' of Mojada, which is a more sunset-suited affair altogether. This special mix lasers in on that exuberant piano part, then plays with percussions and dynamics to create a full-on dub version of the original track.

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

Fresno is the highly anticipated 6th studio album by Joyce Manor
Produced by Rob Schnapf, this 9 song album is an honest, hard-hitting, post-emo,
power pop masterpiece packed with the elevated writing and earnest delivery
Joyce Manor is loved for.Joyce Manor is a band from Torrance, CA consisting of
Barry Johnson (vocals/ guitar), Chase Knobbe (guitar), Matt Ebert (bass), Neil
Hennessy (new drummer, from The Lawrence Arms). Johnson and Knobbe
started the band in 2008 in the Disneyland parking lot, named after an apartment
complex that Johnson would walk past every day. Joyce Manor made their debut
as an acoustic two-piece. Quickly they learned that playing loud was much more
fun and invited friends to join the lineup. The band has released five studio
albums; Joyce Manor (2011), Of All Things I Will Soon Grow Tired (2012), Never
Hungover Again (2014), Cody (2016), and Million Dollars to Kill Me (2018).
Joyce Manor has toured extensively and their live show has been the driver
behind the band's success. They have made festival appearances at FYF Fest,
Coachella, Riot Fest and since the release of their last studio album in 2018, the
band has headlined NYC Central Park SummerStage, sold out two nights at the
Palladium in LA, and sold out two matinee show at LA's historic Union Station.

"Big Time" entstand mit einem Peitschenhieb in den seltenen, fruchtbaren Momenten, in denen sowohl frische Trauer als auch frische Liebe gleichzeitig auftreten, in denen sich Kummer und Verliebtheit gegenseitig verstärken, verkomplizieren und erklären. Verlust ist schon immer ein Thema in Olsens Songs gewesen, aber nur wenige können Elegien mit einer derart rücksichtslosen Energie schreiben, wie sie. Wenn diese aus allen Nähten platzende, bergab rasende Energie für ihre Arbeit unüberwindbar schien, beweist "Big Time", dass Olsen jetzt von einem verwurzelteren Ort der Klarheit aus schreibt. Dabei arbeitet sie mit einer elastischen Beherrschung ihrer Stimme - sowohl klanglich als auch künstlerisch. In diesen Liedern geht es nicht nur um die Transformation von Trauer, sondern auch darum, Freiheit und Freude in den Entbehrungen zu finden, die diese mit sich bringen. "Big Time" ist ein Album über die expansive Kraft der neuen Liebe, geschrieben in der Zeit, als Angel Olsen sich als queer outete und ihre ersten Erfahrungen mit queerer Liebe und Herzschmerz machte. Aber dieser Glanz und Optimismus wird durch ein tiefes und vielschichtiges Gefühl von Verlust gemildert. Während Olsens Prozess der Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Queer-Sein und der Konfrontation mit den Traumata, die sie davon abgehalten hatten, sich selbst voll und ganz zu akzeptieren, fühlte sie, dass es an der Zeit war, sich ihren Eltern gegenüber zu outen - eine Hürde, die sie eine Zeit lang vermieden hatte. "Some experiences just make you feel as though you're five years old, no matter how wise or adult you think you are", schreibt sie über diese Zeit. Nach diesem tränenreichen, aber erleichternden Gespräch feierte sie mit ihrem/ihrer Partner*in, ihren Freund*innen, mit Austern und Wein. "Finally, at the ripe age of 34, I was free to be me." Drei Tage später starb ihr Vater, dessen Beerdigung Olsen zum Anlass nahm, den/die Partner*in ihrer Familie vorzustellen. Nur zwei Wochen später erhielt Olsen den Anruf, dass ihre Mutter in der Notaufnahme lag. Eine Zeit im Hospiz kam bald darauf, und eine zweite Beerdigung folgte kurz nach der ersten. Eine weitere Reise zurück nach St. Louis, eine weitere Trauerbewältigung, eine weitere Vertiefung und Intensivierung dieser noch jungen Liebe. Drei Wochen nach der Beerdigung ihrer Mutter war Olsen im Studio, um dieses unglaublich weise und zärtliche neue Album "Big Time" aufzunehmen. Ausgelassene Anspielungen an Tammy Wynette und Kitty Wells tauchen auf "Big Time" ebenso auf wie die komplexen Orchestrationen ihres genreübergreifenden 2019er Albums "All Mirrors". Während jenes Album voller dramatischer Veränderungen und Wendungen war, liegen die Überraschungen hier in ihrer Einfachheit - ein langsames Anschwellen der Streicher, eine Instrumentierung, die wie ein Sturm zyklisch ist, oder funkelnde Hörner in einer lichtdurchfluteten Break-up-Ballade, während kaum ein Synthesizer in Sicht ist. "Big Time" wurde zusammen mit dem Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson in seinen Fivestar Studios in Topanga, Kalifornien, aufgenommen und gemischt. Drew Erickson spielte Klavier, Orgel und kümmerte sich um die Streicherarrangements. Olsens langjährige Bandkollegin Emily Elhaj spielte durchgehend den Bass.

"Big Time" entstand mit einem Peitschenhieb in den seltenen, fruchtbaren Momenten, in denen sowohl frische Trauer als auch frische Liebe gleichzeitig auftreten, in denen sich Kummer und Verliebtheit gegenseitig verstärken, verkomplizieren und erklären. Verlust ist schon immer ein Thema in Olsens Songs gewesen, aber nur wenige können Elegien mit einer derart rücksichtslosen Energie schreiben, wie sie. Wenn diese aus allen Nähten platzende, bergab rasende Energie für ihre Arbeit unüberwindbar schien, beweist "Big Time", dass Olsen jetzt von einem verwurzelteren Ort der Klarheit aus schreibt. Dabei arbeitet sie mit einer elastischen Beherrschung ihrer Stimme - sowohl klanglich als auch künstlerisch. In diesen Liedern geht es nicht nur um die Transformation von Trauer, sondern auch darum, Freiheit und Freude in den Entbehrungen zu finden, die diese mit sich bringen. "Big Time" ist ein Album über die expansive Kraft der neuen Liebe, geschrieben in der Zeit, als Angel Olsen sich als queer outete und ihre ersten Erfahrungen mit queerer Liebe und Herzschmerz machte. Aber dieser Glanz und Optimismus wird durch ein tiefes und vielschichtiges Gefühl von Verlust gemildert. Während Olsens Prozess der Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Queer-Sein und der Konfrontation mit den Traumata, die sie davon abgehalten hatten, sich selbst voll und ganz zu akzeptieren, fühlte sie, dass es an der Zeit war, sich ihren Eltern gegenüber zu outen - eine Hürde, die sie eine Zeit lang vermieden hatte. "Some experiences just make you feel as though you're five years old, no matter how wise or adult you think you are", schreibt sie über diese Zeit. Nach diesem tränenreichen, aber erleichternden Gespräch feierte sie mit ihrem/ihrer Partner*in, ihren Freund*innen, mit Austern und Wein. "Finally, at the ripe age of 34, I was free to be me." Drei Tage später starb ihr Vater, dessen Beerdigung Olsen zum Anlass nahm, den/die Partner*in ihrer Familie vorzustellen. Nur zwei Wochen später erhielt Olsen den Anruf, dass ihre Mutter in der Notaufnahme lag. Eine Zeit im Hospiz kam bald darauf, und eine zweite Beerdigung folgte kurz nach der ersten. Eine weitere Reise zurück nach St. Louis, eine weitere Trauerbewältigung, eine weitere Vertiefung und Intensivierung dieser noch jungen Liebe. Drei Wochen nach der Beerdigung ihrer Mutter war Olsen im Studio, um dieses unglaublich weise und zärtliche neue Album "Big Time" aufzunehmen. Ausgelassene Anspielungen an Tammy Wynette und Kitty Wells tauchen auf "Big Time" ebenso auf wie die komplexen Orchestrationen ihres genreübergreifenden 2019er Albums "All Mirrors". Während jenes Album voller dramatischer Veränderungen und Wendungen war, liegen die Überraschungen hier in ihrer Einfachheit - ein langsames Anschwellen der Streicher, eine Instrumentierung, die wie ein Sturm zyklisch ist, oder funkelnde Hörner in einer lichtdurchfluteten Break-up-Ballade, während kaum ein Synthesizer in Sicht ist. "Big Time" wurde zusammen mit dem Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson in seinen Fivestar Studios in Topanga, Kalifornien, aufgenommen und gemischt. Drew Erickson spielte Klavier, Orgel und kümmerte sich um die Streicherarrangements. Olsens langjährige Bandkollegin Emily Elhaj spielte durchgehend den Bass.

"Big Time" entstand mit einem Peitschenhieb in den seltenen, fruchtbaren Momenten, in denen sowohl frische Trauer als auch frische Liebe gleichzeitig auftreten, in denen sich Kummer und Verliebtheit gegenseitig verstärken, verkomplizieren und erklären. Verlust ist schon immer ein Thema in Olsens Songs gewesen, aber nur wenige können Elegien mit einer derart rücksichtslosen Energie schreiben, wie sie. Wenn diese aus allen Nähten platzende, bergab rasende Energie für ihre Arbeit unüberwindbar schien, beweist "Big Time", dass Olsen jetzt von einem verwurzelteren Ort der Klarheit aus schreibt. Dabei arbeitet sie mit einer elastischen Beherrschung ihrer Stimme - sowohl klanglich als auch künstlerisch. In diesen Liedern geht es nicht nur um die Transformation von Trauer, sondern auch darum, Freiheit und Freude in den Entbehrungen zu finden, die diese mit sich bringen. "Big Time" ist ein Album über die expansive Kraft der neuen Liebe, geschrieben in der Zeit, als Angel Olsen sich als queer outete und ihre ersten Erfahrungen mit queerer Liebe und Herzschmerz machte. Aber dieser Glanz und Optimismus wird durch ein tiefes und vielschichtiges Gefühl von Verlust gemildert. Während Olsens Prozess der Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Queer-Sein und der Konfrontation mit den Traumata, die sie davon abgehalten hatten, sich selbst voll und ganz zu akzeptieren, fühlte sie, dass es an der Zeit war, sich ihren Eltern gegenüber zu outen - eine Hürde, die sie eine Zeit lang vermieden hatte. "Some experiences just make you feel as though you're five years old, no matter how wise or adult you think you are", schreibt sie über diese Zeit. Nach diesem tränenreichen, aber erleichternden Gespräch feierte sie mit ihrem/ihrer Partner*in, ihren Freund*innen, mit Austern und Wein. "Finally, at the ripe age of 34, I was free to be me." Drei Tage später starb ihr Vater, dessen Beerdigung Olsen zum Anlass nahm, den/die Partner*in ihrer Familie vorzustellen. Nur zwei Wochen später erhielt Olsen den Anruf, dass ihre Mutter in der Notaufnahme lag. Eine Zeit im Hospiz kam bald darauf, und eine zweite Beerdigung folgte kurz nach der ersten. Eine weitere Reise zurück nach St. Louis, eine weitere Trauerbewältigung, eine weitere Vertiefung und Intensivierung dieser noch jungen Liebe. Drei Wochen nach der Beerdigung ihrer Mutter war Olsen im Studio, um dieses unglaublich weise und zärtliche neue Album "Big Time" aufzunehmen. Ausgelassene Anspielungen an Tammy Wynette und Kitty Wells tauchen auf "Big Time" ebenso auf wie die komplexen Orchestrationen ihres genreübergreifenden 2019er Albums "All Mirrors". Während jenes Album voller dramatischer Veränderungen und Wendungen war, liegen die Überraschungen hier in ihrer Einfachheit - ein langsames Anschwellen der Streicher, eine Instrumentierung, die wie ein Sturm zyklisch ist, oder funkelnde Hörner in einer lichtdurchfluteten Break-up-Ballade, während kaum ein Synthesizer in Sicht ist. "Big Time" wurde zusammen mit dem Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson in seinen Fivestar Studios in Topanga, Kalifornien, aufgenommen und gemischt. Drew Erickson spielte Klavier, Orgel und kümmerte sich um die Streicherarrangements. Olsens langjährige Bandkollegin Emily Elhaj spielte durchgehend den Bass.

Never released on vinyl before and pressed on black wax, an essential pressing from seminal songwriter Maria McKee. A lost gem, never released on vinyl, from the re-awakened singer/songwriter that falls between her Americana incarnation as Lone Justice and her near-operatic five-star stunner ‘La Vita Nuova’. From 2005, ‘Peddlin’ Dreams makes a vinyl debut in all its unbridled glory, as AllMusic mused, it’s “moving, utterly beautiful and carefully, artfully wrought. It is the work of a masterful songwriter whose senses of time, place and character are impeccable.”

Five-time Grammy Award winning blues singer Robert Cray recorded his fifth studio album Strong Persuader together with Grammy Award winning producer Bruce Bromberg. After its release in 1986, the album became his big breakthrough and made Cray a pop star, despite making a classic blues album. The 10-track album included three singles, including “Right Next Door (Because Of Me)”, “I Guess I Showed Her” and “Smoking Gun”, the latter reaching #2 on the US Rock chart and #22 on the Billboard Hot 100. Strong Persuader sold over two million copies by 1995 and earned him a Grammy Award for Best Contemporary Blues Recording.

It’s the desire to celebrate their sonic bounty that first got Oberst and the band excited about
the idea of comprehensive reissues. But this wouldn’t be a Bright Eyes project if a moment
devoted to appreciating the past weren’t turned into an opportunity to connect with the future.
That’s where the companion EPs (on Opaque Gold vinyl) come in. Or as Oberst puts it, “the
supplemental reading” for the primary reissues: one six-track EP per reissued album, each
featuring five reworked songs from that album. “My thing was they had to sound different from
the originals, we had to mess with them in a substantial way.” Plus one cover that felt “of the
era” in which that particular albums was made - a song that meant something to the band at
the time. To help the EPs come alive in the fullest way, Bright Eyes called in lots of old friends,
like Bridgers, M. Ward, and Welch and Rawlings, as well as new ones like Katie Crutchfield of
Waxahatchee.
‘Fevers And Mirrors’ is pressed on Merlot Wave coloured double vinyl.

‘Cinnamon Sea’ is the perfect introduction to one of the most mysterious, ever-morphing underground bands from New Zealand. The Garbage and the Flowers make their long awaited return with another psychedelic masterpiece from the band that gave us 1997's cult dreampop gem 'Eyes Rind As If Beggars'. A hybrid fusion of the Velvets, Elephant 6 and any God-fearing stoned strummers you can think of, with a nod to Charlie Manson’s bedside balladry to boot. On their return, the band hone their songcraft with tracks like ‘Eye Know Who You Are’, a tantalising piece of Mazzy Star on steroids, a spiralling sonic rumble, that reaches a miasmic high on every hummed chorus. It opens the Pandora’s box of this release, a sleight of ear collection of five songs from this cosmology-observing Australia-based outfit. Tracks like ‘Red Star’ exist in a land where sound levels are destroyed by savage birds. ‘On The Radio’ trips into an untuned lagoon. There’s a quasi-religious zeal to proceedings, a nod to Sterling Morrison’s Velvet strum elsewhere, everything that would have been key to the Elephant 6 conglomerate not so long ago, maybe, if you can even imagine, My Bloody Valentine unplugged. ‘Cinnamon Sea’ was recorded in an abandoned courthouse in Freyerstown, a ghostly village in Victoria’s Goldfields in Southeast Australia, where you’re more likely to meet giant grey kangaroos bounding on its dusty main street than tottering prospectors these days. It unravels with claustrophobic glee as we traverse the structured climes of exemplary songwriting seasoned with the salt of improvisation. This from a band who previously released an album famously dubbed ‘Stoned Rehearsal’. It closes with the track ‘Jacob B’, a melancholy tale that’s a hybrid of Manson’s troubled tunes and the psychedelic folk songs of Quicksilver’s Dino Valente. File under: outsider music for insiders. “By some measure Wellington's most brilliant pop band, The Garbage & The Flowers are classic underground rock'n'roll with a hazy ramshackle sound pockmarked by bursts of genius.” Forced Exposure

Anechoic produced a concept EP inspired by the orbit, and the gravity from a smallest subatomic particle to the largest star.

This 4 tracks vinyl EP + a bonus digital track is carefully constructed to represent the repeating path that one object can take around another one. The gravity represents the harmony of the tracks that keep them playing without intersect. Each track has its own eccentricity - this is the amount an orbits path differs from a perfect circle.

So imagine all of the five tracks playing together, everyone has an eccentricity different from zero to the centre, each one has its own path, and a certain amount of time to make one complete orbit, this is the analogy with the concept EP 'Geosynchronous Orbit'.

Born out of an underground Buenos Aires party and first launched in 2008, ZZK Records has spent more than a decade at the forefront of Latin American music, carving out space for artists putting a futuristic (and often electronic) spin on classic rhythms and folklore traditions. Along the way, the label spread across the globe and helped launch a few stars-Nicola Cruz, Chancha Vía Circuito, La Yegros and Son Rompe Pera among them-but ZZK's search for new artists, sounds and perspectives is never complete. ZZK Sound Vol. 4 brings together a fresh crop of talent from across Latin America, along with a pair of choice selections from veteran acts Maga Bo (Brazil) and Tremor (Argentina). Compiled by ZZK co-founder DJ Nim-the label's original A&R (and Chancha Vía Circuito's older brother), he'd actually taken a five-year hiatus from the project prior to 2020-the compilation's origins can be traced back to the early days of the pandemic. As the world went into lockdown, he put out a call for submissions, and within three months, he'd received more than 1000 tracks. Nim literally listened to them all, whittling the pile down to his 11 favorites, and after hearing his selections, Grant C. Dull-another ZZK co-founder, who runs the label's day-to-day operations-couldn't believe his ears. Nim had done it again. There were no notes, and no changes to the tracklist. ZZK Sound Vol. 4 was quickly put into production. At this point, few music fans need to be sold on the appeal of Latin music, but ZZK, which has been operating in this sphere long before the genre became the "next big thing," is dedicated to the idea that the potency of these sounds extends well beyond the pop charts. Hopping between continents and recontextualizing rhythmic lineages that date back centuries, ZZK Sound Vol. 4 is both an arresting snapshot of Latin America's electronic avant garde and a thrilling preview of its next wave.

These sides from 1970s band Smith & Gordera are prototypical for the "Sounds Like Santana" genre coined at the Friends of Sound record store in Austin, TX years ago. Heavy Latin Rock fusion on these tracks with just a pinch of Jazz thrown in for good measure.

"Evil Deeds" starts right into it the moment the needle hits the groove on your turntable - heavy organ, percussion, shakers, and guitar all greet your ears. Moving into the track you get the typical shredding guitar solo, organ solo, and a sax solo, for good measure.

"Time and Space" starts with a nod to the classic Dave Brubeck "Take Five" and continues on an adventure into a more psychedelic groove and more of a Rock vibe. Time changes and tempo shifts and big solos round out the side.

"'AYII' is a collection of roadside Souvenirs on the rural highway of our
inevitable evolution," shares Jon Stone.
"Polaroids
Storms. Open fields. Tears. Therapy. Burning of fields to make way for new
growth. We've attempted to open personal doors that have been patiently waiting,
annoyingly, stubbornly waiting for a sliver of truth. Hopefully we've delivered."
Kristy Osmunson adds, "Parenthood. This album was created during the most
pivotal time in life made while creating two humans. If I could capture the
process this music brought about in five words I would say, sobriety, health,
growth, responsibility and joy. This last five years has been a massive transition.
Playing festivals, weddings, funerals, therapy sessions, and music lessons has
become the soundtrack of life. 'Gonna Be You' landed on this planet the same
weekend as my first son so I will love that song through eternity. As she always
does, this music brought about a full revolution in my existence as a human." The
11-track project was produced by American Young, Kyle Schlienger, Lee Brice, and
John Vesley.

"This Is A Photograph", MORBYs siebtes Album, ist ein Loblied auf die Americana, das Leben und Tod und Blut auf der Leinwand zum Ausdruck bringt. Der kreativ gestärkte Songwriter hat es geschafft, seine besten Songs, seine besten Gesangsleistungen, seine prägnantesten Texte und seine üppigsten Arrangements auf "This Is A Photograph" zu vereinen. Dies ist zweifellos sein bisheriges Hauptwerk. Die Geschichte beginnt im Januar 2020, als MORBY im Keller seines Elternhauses in Kansas City geistesabwesend in einer Kiste mit alten Familienfotos blättert. Nur Stunden zuvor war sein Vater bei einem Familienessen vor seinen Augen zusammengebrochen und musste ins Krankenhaus gebracht werden. In dieser Nacht spürte MORBY noch immer den Schock und die Angst, die ihm in den Knochen steckten. Also sah er sich die Bilder an, bis ihm eines davon ins Auge sprang: sein Vater als junger Mann, stolz und stark und voller Selbstvertrauen, der mit freiem Oberkörper auf einer Wiese posiert. "In the photo he looks young and full of confidence, puffing his chest out at the camera as if he were looking for a fight," erklärt MORBY. "It was not lost on me that this was the same chest, just hours before, I had seen the ambulance put a stethoscope against as he lay on the kitchen floor of my sisters house." Während sein Vater wieder zu Kräften kam, grübelte er über diese Gedanken nach. Und dann machte er sich auf den Weg nach Memphis. Er zog in das Peabody Hotel und verbrachte seine Tage damit, den Träumern, die er bewunderte, Tribut zu zollen und sich vor ihnen zu verneigen; er ging hinunter zum Ufer des Mississippi, zu der Stelle, an der JEFF BUCKLEY sein Ende fand. Er schlenderte durch das Viertel, in dem JAY REATARD seinen letzten Tag verbrachte, und fuhr dann am Stax-Zelt vorbei, um seine Stimmung kurz aufzuheitern. Dann fuhr er an Graceland vorbei, bevor er den Highway 61 überquerte und die Geister zu sich rufen ließ, um seine eigenen Träume zu gestalten. Abends kehrte er in sein Zimmer zurück und hielt seine Ideen auf einem behelfsmäßigen Aufnahmegerät fest, das nur aus seiner Gitarre und einem Mikrofon bestand. Die schwermütigen Songs, die zu all dem passen, was er gesehen hatte, sprudelten nur so aus ihm heraus. Wiederum leitete Sam Cohen (der "Singing Saw" und "Oh My God" produziert hatte) das Projekt. Sie begannen in Cohens Studio im Bundesstaat New York, das sich noch im Bau befand, zusammen mit dem Schlagzeuger Nick Kinsey, und arbeiteten langsam an den Songs, da die Reise der Aufnahme der Start-Stopp-Qualität von 2021 selbst entsprach, mit magischen Momenten, die in die prekären Navigationen eingestreut waren. Mit der Zeit füllte sich die Besetzung. Der ehemalige Tournee-Pianist Oliver Hill sowie seine Mutter Meg und seine Schwester Charlotte sorgten für die Streicher. Die Tourneeleute Cochemea Gastelum (Saxophon), Jared Samuel (Orgel) und Alecia Chakour (Gesang, Tamburin) stießen zu den Sessions hinzu, ebenso wie Eric Johnson (Banjo). Und neue Mitstreiter*innen wie Schlagzeuger Josh Jaeger (Schlagzeug, Perkussion), Brandee Younger (Harfe), Makaya McCraven (Schlagzeug), Cassandra Jenkins (Gesang) und sogar Tim Heidecker und Alia Shawkat (die schrägen Lacher auf "Rock Bottom") fügten sich in das entstehende Bild ein. Und passenderweise fanden die letzten Sessions live in Memphis in Sam Philips Recording Co. statt, das von seinem Sohn Jerry Philips geleitet wird und das Erbe des ursprünglichen Sun Records Studios fortführt.

"This Is A Photograph", MORBYs siebtes Album, ist ein Loblied auf die Americana, das Leben und Tod und Blut auf der Leinwand zum Ausdruck bringt. Der kreativ gestärkte Songwriter hat es geschafft, seine besten Songs, seine besten Gesangsleistungen, seine prägnantesten Texte und seine üppigsten Arrangements auf "This Is A Photograph" zu vereinen. Dies ist zweifellos sein bisheriges Hauptwerk. Die Geschichte beginnt im Januar 2020, als MORBY im Keller seines Elternhauses in Kansas City geistesabwesend in einer Kiste mit alten Familienfotos blättert. Nur Stunden zuvor war sein Vater bei einem Familienessen vor seinen Augen zusammengebrochen und musste ins Krankenhaus gebracht werden. In dieser Nacht spürte MORBY noch immer den Schock und die Angst, die ihm in den Knochen steckten. Also sah er sich die Bilder an, bis ihm eines davon ins Auge sprang: sein Vater als junger Mann, stolz und stark und voller Selbstvertrauen, der mit freiem Oberkörper auf einer Wiese posiert. "In the photo he looks young and full of confidence, puffing his chest out at the camera as if he were looking for a fight," erklärt MORBY. "It was not lost on me that this was the same chest, just hours before, I had seen the ambulance put a stethoscope against as he lay on the kitchen floor of my sisters house." Während sein Vater wieder zu Kräften kam, grübelte er über diese Gedanken nach. Und dann machte er sich auf den Weg nach Memphis. Er zog in das Peabody Hotel und verbrachte seine Tage damit, den Träumern, die er bewunderte, Tribut zu zollen und sich vor ihnen zu verneigen; er ging hinunter zum Ufer des Mississippi, zu der Stelle, an der JEFF BUCKLEY sein Ende fand. Er schlenderte durch das Viertel, in dem JAY REATARD seinen letzten Tag verbrachte, und fuhr dann am Stax-Zelt vorbei, um seine Stimmung kurz aufzuheitern. Dann fuhr er an Graceland vorbei, bevor er den Highway 61 überquerte und die Geister zu sich rufen ließ, um seine eigenen Träume zu gestalten. Abends kehrte er in sein Zimmer zurück und hielt seine Ideen auf einem behelfsmäßigen Aufnahmegerät fest, das nur aus seiner Gitarre und einem Mikrofon bestand. Die schwermütigen Songs, die zu all dem passen, was er gesehen hatte, sprudelten nur so aus ihm heraus. Wiederum leitete Sam Cohen (der "Singing Saw" und "Oh My God" produziert hatte) das Projekt. Sie begannen in Cohens Studio im Bundesstaat New York, das sich noch im Bau befand, zusammen mit dem Schlagzeuger Nick Kinsey, und arbeiteten langsam an den Songs, da die Reise der Aufnahme der Start-Stopp-Qualität von 2021 selbst entsprach, mit magischen Momenten, die in die prekären Navigationen eingestreut waren. Mit der Zeit füllte sich die Besetzung. Der ehemalige Tournee-Pianist Oliver Hill sowie seine Mutter Meg und seine Schwester Charlotte sorgten für die Streicher. Die Tourneeleute Cochemea Gastelum (Saxophon), Jared Samuel (Orgel) und Alecia Chakour (Gesang, Tamburin) stießen zu den Sessions hinzu, ebenso wie Eric Johnson (Banjo). Und neue Mitstreiter*innen wie Schlagzeuger Josh Jaeger (Schlagzeug, Perkussion), Brandee Younger (Harfe), Makaya McCraven (Schlagzeug), Cassandra Jenkins (Gesang) und sogar Tim Heidecker und Alia Shawkat (die schrägen Lacher auf "Rock Bottom") fügten sich in das entstehende Bild ein. Und passenderweise fanden die letzten Sessions live in Memphis in Sam Philips Recording Co. statt, das von seinem Sohn Jerry Philips geleitet wird und das Erbe des ursprünglichen Sun Records Studios fortführt.

At the tender age of twenty-five, while he was working part-time at an Italian restaurant in Tokyo's Kamata district, Kazuki Tomokawa released his debut record, fittingly titled Finally, His First Album. While he had already penned hundreds of songs, including his first single "Try Saying You're Alive!," written on a long train ride past fields and rice paddies, it was this recording that introduced Japan to one of its most unique musicians of the postwar era. Each track, as record label exec Kiichi Takahara writes in the LP's liner notes (here translated for the first time), is not a song but a "flesh-and-blood human being," birthed by the singer-songwriter and the raw, guttural cries that would become a hallmark of his incomparable sound. 1970s Japan was a time and place marked by a profound desire for authenticity amidst the onset of television and media saturation. Tomokawa arrived on the scene as a musician with "the personality of a hydrogen bomb," to borrow a phrase from his frequent collaborator Toshi Ishizuka. In an unwieldy interview included here, members of the notorious leftist band Zun? Keisatsu (Brain Police) put it bluntly: here was a man surrounded by the "disingenuous," the "wishy-washy," and the "superficial," who was delivering "real life, unvarnished." These songs are lullabies for the lost, staring not into the void but-as the fourth track declares-from inside it. Finally, His First Album is the first of three Tomokawa records to be reissued by Blank Forms Editions in conjunction with the US release of Tomokawa's memoir, Try Saying You're Alive!, the first-ever English translation of his writing. This debut captures the self-assured trademarks that Tomokawa would hone over the course of decades. Multiple tracks are performed in his native Akita dialect, a distinct and highly regional vernacular of northern Japan seldom heard outside the prefecture-and even more rarely heard in music. Tomokawa's lyrics locate profound interiority in the rituals of everyday life, and are sung against sparse folk arrangements of tender, lilting chords-a prelude to the rock and electronic stylings to come in later years. A self-proclaimed "living corpse," Tomokawa wallows, whispers, shouts, and cries, yet still, through his existential doubt, asks to be heard.

New Heavy Sounds is proud to present the new album by Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard. now known simply as MWWB. There has been some speculation amongst fan circles that the final part of the trilogy of albums that preceded this, marked the end of Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard’s five-year mission. Not so. We can categorically confirm that having officially slimmed their name down to the acronym, MWWB are continuing their voyage through the far reaches of the galaxy. The first phase of that journey is their new album ‘The Harvest’. ‘The Harvest’ is the band’s fourth album, and of course it is a record shot through with the trademark heavy MWWB sound, and their unique blend of metal and shoegaze. However it also sees the band adding more experimentation, a progressive approach, and going a bit more left field conceptually. To some extent, it shares similarities with Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’. Not only by having the mix of experimentation and melodicism as that seminal record, but also in the way that it has been engineered and constructed as a seamless piece. Nine tracks flowing into one another. Space age riff monsters segueing into shorter musical interludes, where John Carpenter, rubs shoulders with Pink Floyd and a maelstrom of moog and mellotron. There are surprises, and of course a bucketload of heavy shit. With ‘The Harvest’ MWWB have refined and honed their sound, it’s a carefully crafted distillation of ideas, written, conceived and sequenced to be listened to in its entirety (preferably in one sitting). MWWB have always loved film scores and this new album is in many ways, the soundtrack to a film. MWWB provides the musical narrative (the song titles also provide a pointer) and the listener's imagination does the rest. ‘Oblok Magellana’ and its spooky atmospherics set the scene. before things really kick in with the riffs of title track ‘The Harvest’. A grooving Sabbathian chug intro’s Jessica Ball, who at the top of her game throughout. Her voice simultaneously sweet yet dark; almost neofolk; which when put against those riffs, is always a startling juxtaposition, nevertheless it perfectly crystallises MWWB’s distinctive dynamic. ‘Interstellar Wrecking’ is a succinctly crafted nugget of John Carpenter-esque drama, you can imagine the thundering mothership forging its way through the universe on some nameless quest before encountering ‘Logic Bomb’ and its fat fuzzed-up ride through light and shade guitar/vocal interplay. Ball’s voice soaring and shimmering throughout. ‘Betrayal’ gives a nod to Pink Floyd’s ‘On The Run’ but with its freaky spoken word and four on the floor kick it’s almost a dance track, yet there’s no incongruity here. ‘Altamira’ is epic MWWB, adding large doses of psych into a melodic concoction of dreampop and metal. Ball’s vocals here are many layered and textured effortlessly gliding through the weight of the backing. ‘Let’s Send The Bastards Whence They Came’ is another little gem. A plaintive repeating synth figure that builds with bass, drums, mellotrons and synths into ‘Strontium’ which rounds off the album’s ‘heavy’ numbers, a blend of monster grooves, and Ball’s swooning vocals. Finally, and outstandingly, Jessica strips things back to a distorted guitar and voice on ‘Moonrise’. Shorn of the layers of fuzz, it is a simple, beautiful and fitting catharsis to an epic voyage. MWWB are a thrilling proposition. They demonstrate that you can seamlessly mix crushing power, experimentation and delicate vulnerability into something that transcends any genre.