quête:float

Bruno Berle, the young songwriter and poet originally hailing from Maceió, the capital of Brazil’s Alagoas state, crafts songs that are simple, direct, and full of tender nuance. With his first album No Reino Dos Afetos (which translates to "In the Realm of Affections” and was released in 2022), Berle firmly established himself as a unique and important voice in the burgeoning scene of new Brazilian artists making a global impact, including peers like Ana Frango Elétrico, Tim Bernardes, Bala Desejo, Sessa and more. Now back with his second album, No Reino Dos Afetos 2, he stretches that further.

Bruno Berle’s music lives between two worlds – a traditional Brazilian folk talent steeped in history, and a contemporary, dreamy electronic pop; the result is songwriting that’s genre-bending, intentional, iconoclastic and consuming, spacious and sinewy and singular, a striking reflection of its composer while leaving space for the listener to settle in. The album follows Bruno’s relocation to São Paulo, and the songs are a reflection of his past and present. A rebuke of former categorizations of his work in Brazilian music scenes, and an idea of where his music can move, unfettered.

Berle’s music is purposeful in being a true portrait of himself, and a reflection of the music, art, and fashion scenes he personally moves through. Berle aims to provide an entrypoint for Black queer joy in his music, in his storytelling, in his presence and vision as a creative. For him, it feels subversive to be playing MPB laced with dubstep and lo-fi, a sort of intentional sacrilege, capturing a dialogue of modernity in traditional music.

Berle wrote most of the arrangements and co-produced his new album, Reino Dos Afetos 2 with longtime friend and musical partner Batata Boy, who is also from Maceió; the album was recorded in Rio de Janeiro, Maceió, and São Paulo, his new home, and picks up the conversation begun in 2022 on Berle’s debut album No Reino dos Afetos. Both records are the result of a nonlinear but coherent seven-year music creation process culminating in these albums, holding hands across space and time.

“Tirolirole,” the first single from the record, was released at the end of 2023; sun-soaked rhythms and soft voice coat the song, the lilting refrain of “Tirolirole” throughout – hushed, gentle, but somehow almost tactile, a golden-hour moment unlocked in the mind. “Tirolirole” is a triumphant future classic about the temporality of a blossoming love, with Bruno’s stunning vocal soaring over melodies which ebb and flow like the waters on the Atlantic shore. Of the track, Berle explains: “Despite ‘Tirolirole’ being an expression that evokes my childhood, just like the light words about nature, the harmony, and the poetry are epic, carrying a great hope for love.”

In fact, the guiding theme of No Reino dos Afetos 2 is a relationship, unfolding in the arc of a weekend. It traverses the innocence of an early young love, how that can be formative, can stretch on to take new shapes, or shape you. The album happens at the genesis of meeting someone and falling for them, before the relationship is thrown into overdrive – set in a big city, against a backdrop of major life changes, rising energy, the sound of São Paulo.

Something transcendental emerges in “Dizer Adeus,” with an arrangement that echoes a gospel atmosphere (evangelical and Catholic environments were pivotal to Berle’s upbringing). On “É Só Você Chegar,” piano and flute gracefully intertwine, a dance, while “Quando Penso” skews sparser, the voice-and-guitar minimalism somehow cultivating an entirely different shape – somehow both cozy and melancholy, with the background sound of a rainy day. Coupled with the lo-fi aspects that shape much of the album’s personality in the vocals and the production, No Reino Dos Afetos 2 is meticulously elaborated by Berle’s sonic alchemy, like on the mid-album instrumental “Sonho,” which feels like floating. “It’s the apex. It’s when lovers are sleeping together,” Berle explains of the feeling he wanted to encapsulate in the song.

On “Love Comes Back” Berle interprets Arthur Russell, the late Iowa musician who only reached greater visibility after he died in 1992. “His way of making music is similar to mine,” Berle explains. “He sings in a more fragile way, has more of an experimental way of recording, letting ‘chance’ appear in the final work.”

Even so, Berle doesn’t want his music to be buried in sentimentality – and the purposefulness of his craft serves as a sort of north star. The production, the arrangements, his restraint and intentionality in crafting his songs feel just as vital as their emotional cores. His songwriting is amorphous, fluid, an encompassing genre-bending movement in-and-of-itself, quietly daring. The songs are often in conversation with other works – drinking in fountains as diverse as the filmmaking of Ingmar Bergman, the poetry of Walt Whitman, the rhythm of Djavan, and the painting of Maxwell Alexandre. Musically he weaves together a rich tapestry of Brazilian folk, UK 2-step garage/dub, trip hop and sun soaked west coast songwriters; something akin to the worlds of Milton Nascimento, Arthur Russell, James Blake, Feist, and Sade colliding into one. But even then No Reino Dos Afetos 2 floats separately, a romanticism driven by a simplicity and intimacy, an open-ended possibility, Berle’s singularity as an artist at the helm of the ship.

On the outskirts of Bratislava, in the pulsating shadows of a refinery's burning chimneys, on the plot of a family house, there stood a small shack. Initially, it housed trials in domestic mushroom growing. Later, after a makeshift acoustic touch-up - lining the walls with old cardboard egg cartons - it became a shelter for music. Sensitive, evocative, nostalgic, lo-fi music by a man named Cadillac Face.

Today we would probably use the term 'safe space', but back then it was (in Cadillac's words) kutica, a cubbyhole. He hid there from a world that ached. Here, Cadillac secretly smoked, sang, and composed. And tried not to go crazy from anxiety. He wrote music unlike anything during his time.

Here, he struggled. With sound (unable to adjust it to his liking), with instruments (which he couldn't bring himself to play), with the world (with which, understandably, he was at odds).

Cadillac Face was a man who didn't belong here.

He wrote and sang in English (in a post-socialist and early-capitalist Slovakia, when command of English was no matter of course); he also wrote in Slovak (blogs and diaries, which, due to a stream-of-consciousness and surrealist style, were as incomprehensible as they were immersive and intimate); gave advice to teenagers (to their quasi-banal questions on talking forums about relationships, life and adolescence, where they were often met with ridicule and mockery); he composed electronic and noise music (at a time when no one had a clue what the abbreviation DAW meant).

This Cadillac's compilation album is not aiming to compete with/replicate Noizy Days - a compilation of Cadillac's contributions to the project Noize Konspiracy. Underground compilations circulated through a local proto-social network. Borderline music without rules - open but often inaccessible. There, Cadillac contributed mostly with experimental-electronic compositions. Noizy Days was compiled by Ďuro Ďurček, one of the initiators of Noize Konspiracy. Both Ďuro and Cadillac have been dead for years.

Songs For The Trees is a selection from Cadillac's songwriting. The most intimate of his intimate recordings. Cadillac at his most fragile, brittle, and quiet. The most romantic, the most tormented, the most painful and direct of his songs I know.

Cadillac became an anthropomorphic grotesque tree. Neither broadleaf nor conifer. Or perhaps it's a candle slowly incinerating – bored, sad, playing the guitar. A tragicomedy. Sometimes it kindles what it doesn't mean to, and it can't put itself out. Or can it?

Featuring new mixes of "2 Another Planet". Delicate Instruments escapes in the spaceship and floats in outer space for the breakdown.
Introducing Memory0, a 'West Coast Electro' project launched on leap year 2024. Only problems when looking back at earth for mixes of "Solamente".
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Yuval Havkin, also known as Rejoicer, is one of the foremost exponents of downtempo music, inspired by the fusion of jazz and hip-hop. His new album thus draws on his early influences while exploring the world of calm, melodic electronic music that borders on ambient.

This Is Reasonable has a chill-out feel to it, a record filled with melodies and atmospheres that, throughout its eleven tracks, conveys a sense of calm and floating, akin to ambient music. Stripped of the clichés of the genre, the album is built around subtle melodies and rich harmonies from keyboards and synths, which borrow as much from the spirit of jazz as from the inventions of electronica, whilst being supported by a gentle groove. This equilibrium is perfectly captured by Rejoicer's moniker, a term that evokes both the idleness of artificial paradises and a soft, caring form of spirituality.

Musical path
Yuval Havkin was born in Israel in 1985, and grew up in England before returning to his homeland. He began studying classical piano as a child, but was put off by such conservative teaching and turned to hip-hop and beatmaking in his teens. Throughout the 2000s, he learned his skills "on the job", working with musicians he met in Tel Aviv, a local scene that nurtured a sense of community and emulation. Back then, he was particularly impressed by the grooves and electronic inventions of Detroit producer Dabrye, who had a revelatory effect on him, before he discovered legendary musicians Madlib and Jay Dee aka J Dilla, who led him down the path of beatmaking.

Yuval Havkin's music career got off to a more serious start in the late 2000s with the creation of his own label, Raw Tapes, both based in Tel Aviv. Blending jazz, funk and hip hop, whilst still embracing pop influences, the label's productions showcased the richness of the new Israeli scene combining cool, elegance, playfulness, and a degree of research and inventiveness, thanks to the talent of artists and bands such as Duo Brothers, Maya Dunietz, iogi, Nitai Hershkovits, the Buttering Trio and Rejoicer, the artist's most personal project.

In 2018, Rejoicer's warm and engaging sounds caught the attention of the prestigious Los Angeles label Stones Throw, renowned for having signed his idols Madlib and J Dilla, not to mention Aloe Blacc and Peanut Butter Wolf (its founder). Two albums followed, Energy Dreams (2018) and Spiritual Sleaze (2020), both of which demonstrate his instrumental mastery, jazz culture and lush orchestrations. Both albums are on a par with more renown sampling prodigies of the beat scene, and gave him his first international recognition.

Now based between Los Angeles and Savyon, near Tel Aviv, this hyperactive and instinctive artist simultaneously pursues a career as a composer, musician and label owner, member of numerous bands and collective projects (Apifera, PlayDead, collaborations with Jimi Prasad and Avishai Cohen) while also offering his studios and production skills to other artists.

“Fela Kuti meets Aphex Twin”
This new Rejoicer album, which follows three earlier jazz-tinged records, marks a new and more personal musical direction for an artist who previously favored group work and collaborations. Following his meeting with Mathias Duchemin, founder of the Circus Company record label and a keen enthusiast of the new Israeli jazz scene, Yuval chose to delve into a more electronic and sequenced style of music, playing Prophet 6 and 8 synths, a Juno 60, a Minimoog and his Fender Rhodes keyboard, in contrast with the more organic sounds of his previous albums.

While a few tracks on this new album may sound like a laid-back version of some of the Warp label's early electronic classics by Aphex Twin or Boards of Canada, Yuval Havkin claims to have also been inspired by the great Fela Kuti, particularly in his search for harmonies between bass, keyboards and percussion, and by his elder trumpet-playing friend Avishai Cohen, a musician he particularly admires.

Beyond these various influences, This Is Reasonable is an album of compelling and bewitching melodies. The moods, peacefulness and sheer beauty of This Is Reasonable are, indeed, quite paradoxical, in stark contrast to the country's tragedies (the title explicitly refers to recent political disputes in Israel) and the war currently raging less than a hundred miles from his studio. A paradox fully embraced by the artist, who views his music as a response to the violence of our times.

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

NO COVER!

Genetic Funk and Mr V present The Believe EP, a deep, soulful, spoken word groover that gets a sublime make-over from the mighty Atjazz. Jazz injected, ethereal business that instantly dissipates any worries as you float on the hypnotic tones of this celestial track. On the flip a stripped back, tougher beats, bass and vocal led dub for the dancers.

Limited edition tri-color splatter vinyl. The vinyl edition of Daedelus' new LP "Xenopocene" features a die cut cover title album text which allows the viewer to see the multi color swirling vinyl beneath. Xenopocene means Alien Age. Some have theorized our current is the Anthropocene; however in an era where artificially generated and deep faked, what is terrestrial in origin vs u.f.o.? Daedelus’ latest LP ‘Xenopocene’, inspired by their artist-in-residency with S.E.T.I. follows a timeline from an extraterrestrial first contact thru to 10k days hence and spiraling towards the nearest exoplanet 6,000+ years away. Attempting to parse out science informed fiction from the fact that in an unfathomable universe life exists outside our confines. Actually there are guidelines in place for receiving such a communication. In S.E.T.I.'s Protocols for an ETI Signal Detection (which first line reads "Declaration of Principles Concerning the Conduct of the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence...") well measured steps from such an awesome event could almost be read as unexceptional. Hyperbole has little place in the sciences whereas music makes the most from. Daedelus across 11 tracks deftly deals with space inspired sounds pulling equally from Gustav Holst and Sun Ra as Alice Deejay and Amon Tobin. No techno-optimism here, ultimately this is Earth music made to dream upwards. Asking us to reckon with our humanity while daring us to envision a new epoch. Interlaced throughout are quavering violins by Vivek Menon. Featuring words from the singular R.A.P. Ferreira on "Starfire" and extra instrumentation from Eli Henry Goss of the Breathing Effect in "Float

MASK’s ZentaSkai & Laura Merino Allue announce vinyl-only underground house and techno series as Cuddling Monsters.
Cuddling Monsters serve up the first vinyl-only volume of a new self titled series on Berlin-based Mask Records. All four cuts explore deep and classy techno, dub and house soundscapes with the aim of rediscovering the soul of electronic music and forming new bonds between human creativity and technological innovations.
Cuddling Monsters is the coming together of creative partners ZentaSkai and Laura Merino Allue. ZentaSkai is the MASK founder recognised for his immersive, hypnotic groove, and Allue is a fashion and graphic designer. They are newly assembled under this alias but have a long-time love of vinyl and analogue machines, which shows in their sounds.
"Crafting music with analogue instruments holds profound importance in the contemporary musical landscape. Despite the omnipresence of digital technology, analogue instruments maintain a pivotal role, offering distinctive sonic qualities, creative constraints, and genuine sound reproduction. The tactile, hands-on connection." - Cuddling Monsters The superbly deep and atmospheric 'Lucky Star' is a dubby minimal cut with a deft rhythm and warm pads that are perfect for cosy back rooms. The absorbing 'Crystal Growing' is another stripped-back techno roller with rubbery drums and pensive chords that lock you into a state of meditation. Up next is the powerful 'Floating Tank' which pairs gorgeous ambient synths with driving drums. It's a great coming together of the physical and the emotional that will take dance floors to the next level. 'Analog Dreams' shuts down with more perfectly smoky pads and grainy lo-fi atmospheres as slick but driving drums power onwards.

The Stanford Family Band release their debut EP "For Your Listening Pleasure" via Goo Records on 5th April 2024. Fronted by the captivating lead vocals of Elliot Stanford, the EP's six songs captures a vintage pop aura whilst retaining a fresh indie and garage rock edge.

Offering a sound which journeys through bittersweet memories, nostalgia, and the warmth of sunlit days, The Stanford Family Band have started to make a name for their unique sonic approach - drawing inspiration from iconic acts such as The Beach Boys and The Modern Lovers, built around complex four-part harmonies and irresistibly memorable melodic hooks.

Speaking about the EP, Elliot Stanford (lead vocals, piano, guitar and songwriter) said: "When we were first signing with Goo, we really had no idea what we would release or how it would end up looking. We have a lot of songs, old and new, some of which have been floating around for many years. In the end we just really wanted to put out a body of work that really encapsulates everything we are about! We love big dramatic songs and arrangements, but at the same time, a little cheeky country/garage rock beat has always tickled us so we just really wanted to capture everything that we love in one concise record. It’s been an absolute pleasure to work on this with our friend Harry Hayes (Producer) and we are mega proud of how it all came together!"

Having already garnered tastemaker press coverage (Earmilk, Fame Magazine among others), a whole host of radio play (John Kennedy - Radio X, RTE 2XM), The Stanford Family Band have quickly started to gain critical acclaim. This EP showcases the outfit’s uncanny ability as songwriters, creating memorable, charming and beautifully constructed melodic tracks.

Technically, Yeah. Detroit artists Eddie Logix and Jo Rad Silver alchemize sonic matter on Real, No. The EP emerges from years of creative collaboration and blends each of the artists’ strengths into a deep-house, hi tech jazz, dubby leftfield assemblage straight from the pulse of today’s Detroit.

Since 2017, the pair has been producing tracks and co-curating Technically, Yeah., an influential monthly happening that encourages (Live) electronic musical expression. The duo’s curation is grounded in community, widely genre-diverse and steadfast in commitment to technological experimentation. The Real, No. EP distills this ethos and puts it on wax.

While Jo Rad is known for techno leanings and Eddie for organic jams (recently on Rocksteady Disco,) the two transform beats into substance with a diverse and thoughtfully constructed release. Glued together with attuned mixing from Salar Ansari and cut loud at Archer Pressing in Detroit, the EP’s range puts deep grooves in the bag for every discerning DJ.

AKKA’s Side: “King David” sticks the synthy deep house groove right in gear with a driving, bubbling bassline and floating effervescent vocal chops from and for a special someone. “Mango Strut” offers a slight island twang and dives into a breaky depth of a bracing cathartic arpeggiated, hand drum ecstasy. A vitamin filled chugger.

BEEP’s Side: The duo recorded “June Buggy” the first time they jammed together on a borrowed Juno. This propulsive Italo-ish conga groover is a mechanical piece of action. The record ends by summoning the ancestry of “Callin’ Dybbs,” a textured hi-tech jazz heater. Kasan Belgrave, young-gun horn of known pedigree, lays down the sax. The sultry brass tones lock in with buxom stabs. For those who know and those who don’t yet. This one holds depths!

“Fierce jazz buggin futurism in outerspace” - Luke Una

“Driving and psychedelic and gorgeous hi-tech.” - Peter Croce

“Perfectly crunchy soul squeezed jams begging to be rinsed” - 2Lanes

“Funky, jackin’, atmospheric, groovy, ravey and ethereal”- Father Dukes

“I’m calling dibs on callin’ dybbs!” - DJ Etta

Miles Davis' boundlessly influential On the Corner was so far ahead of its time upon release in 1972, the jazz cognoscenti rejected its groundbreaking concoction as middling in nature. Yet time has a way of righting wrongs and shifting views by adding needed context and perspective to visionary ideas, music, and approaches — the likes of which fill Davis' boldest and most controversial — undertaking. Designed to bring the focus back on the groove and bottom-end frequencies, the funk-loaded On the Corner revolutionized jazz. It also set new standards for record production, presaging remixing and electronica by more than a decade. And the work has never sounded more thrilling thanks to this very special pressing.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP of On the Corner exposes the internal mechanisms, free-associated playing, and then-unmatched studio techniques in vivid fashion. The low end, crucial to every composition here, is both heard and felt, with locked-in bass lines and low-range percussion conveyed as taut, solid, and visceral passages. You can discern the multiple layers of rhythm Davis employed on complex tracks such as "Black Satin," as On the Corner stands as his first effort to use overdubbing and multiple tape machines. As a pioneer, Davis likely would’ve loved MoFi’s groundbreaking SuperVinyl profile that features the lowest-possible analogue noise floor as well as pristine transparency, dead-quiet surfaces, and superb groove definition.

New degrees of spaciousness and airiness — equally important to the musique concrete arrangements — give the impression Davis and Co.'s creations float in space. Instruments are portrayed in three-dimensional manners, rhythmic loops retain tonal purity, and horn solos skitter across an extra-wide soundstage that takes listeners into Columbia's Studio E. Mobile Fidelity's SuperVinyl LP captures Teo Macero's innovative production — and the trumpeter's cutting-edge aural collages — in definitive fashion.

Heavily inspired by Sly and the Family Stone, On the Corner portrays street vibes and remains Davis' Blackest-sounding record. The conscious attempt to connect with youthful audiences tapped into rock and funk is evident not only on the colorful cartoon cover art depicting hot-pants and zoot-suit revelers, but in the music's emphasis of recurring drum and bass grooves. Distinct from Davis' earlier fusion experiments, the record's long-misunderstood set dials back improvisation in favor of beats, loops, and atmospherics that generate trance-like effects. While Davis utilizes his band for core duties — Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock prominently figure — he also relies on an all-star cast of side-men for concentrated soloing and additional support.

With rhythm providing the basic foundation, other notes fall into place, with their positioning steered by Macero and Davis' editing-room techniques. Looking to the manipulation-based work of Karlheinze Stockhausen and teaming with Stockhausen disciple Paul Buckmaster, Davis re-imagines what grooves constituted and could accomplish throughout On the Corner. The shapes of the songs become completely transformed as they progress. Faint melodies, spacey chords, chunky riffs, wah-wah fills, and repeated motifs bounce in and out of a sonic funhouse that wouldn't be out of place at a Harlem block party.

Exotic, intrepid, and filled with Davis' "jungle sound," On the Corner remains daringly hip more than four decades later.

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce a major archival release from legendary American composer and live electronics innovator Richard Teitelbaum, centred around his soundtrack for Suzan Pitt’s cult 1978 animation Asparagus. Best known to some listeners for introducing Europe to the Moog synthesizer as a founding member of Musica Elettronica Viva in Rome, Teitelbaum’s extensive and radically experimental body of work includes collaborative recordings with master improvisers like Anthony Braxton, Andrew Cyrille and George Lewis, intercultural experiments combining electronics with non-Western instruments such as the shakuhachi, works for computer controlled piano, and large-scale multi-media operas. Recorded at York University, Toronto in 1975–1976, ‘Asparagus (European Version)’ sprawls across both sides of the first LP. Discovered by composer Matt Sargent in Teitelbaum’s tape archive, this is a previously unheard major work for Moog modular and Polymoog synthesizers, unique in Teitelbaum’s oeuvre for its lushness and gently melodic quality. The music unfolds slowly, submerging lyrical melodies and burbling arpeggios into uneasy, glacially shifting harmonic swells, the luscious texture thickened with subtle changes of modulation and phase, calling up the shifting layers of Costin Miereanu’s classic Derives or the kosmische Musik tradition more than any academic synthesizer exercise. Teitelbaum incorporated much of this material into his soundtrack for Suzan Pitt’s Asparagus, which receives its first official release here. Asparagus, famously paired with David Lynch’s Eraserhead for a two-year run of midnight screenings at New York’s Waverly Theatre, uses hand-drawn and stop animation to unfurl an oneiric succession of images, beginning with a sequence in which the female protagonist defecates two stalks of asparagus, which multiply and float out of the toilet bowl to form the letters of the title. Teitelbaum’s soundtrack interweaves delicate drifting tones from the ‘European Version’ with contributions from Steve Lacy and Steve Potts on saxophones, George Lewis on trombone and Takehisa Kosugi on violin. Edited closely to the film, even without images the soundtrack proposes a surreal journey through floating synth tones, squealing horns, propulsive arpeggios, distant chatter, and an old-timey waltz. The final side of the set presents a new realisation of Teitelbaum’s text score ‘Threshold Music’, performed at a memorial concert at Roulette, New York in 2022 by Leila Bourreuil (cello), Alvin Curran (sampler and objects), Daniel Fishkin (daxophone), Miguel Frasconi (glass objects) and Matt Sargent (lap steel). The piece asks musicians to match their instrumental volume to that of the sounds of the environment in which they play, sometimes with the addition of recorded environmental sounds, reinforcing frequencies they encounter in listening deeply to their surroundings. Here the players use a field recording taken at Teitelbaum’s home in Bearsville, New York, their long tones and shimmering, glassy textures delicately emerging from the white noise of the location recording. Released with the full approval of both Richard Teitelbaum and Suzan Pitt’s estates, Asparagus is illustrated with striking images from Pitt’s film and accompanied by detailed liner notes by Francis Plagne. These previously unheard pieces shed new light on the work of a key composer in the American experimental tradition, offering up some of Teitelbaum’s most beautiful and engaging music.

Arguably one of the most memorable house music moments, born out of the black LGBT scene in Chicago at the legendary Warehouse and known as one of Frankie Knuckles earliest productions; ‘Your Love’ is a stone cold classic. A record that is up there with the greats, instantly recognisable and a song that only get better with time.

Written by Jamie Principle and originally released in 1986, ‘Your Love’ has become a seminal recording over the past 34 years. Originally an underground club anthem, famously borrowed on the crossover hit ‘You’ve Got The Love’ (The Source feat. Candi Staton), and most recently re-produced by as part of the Director’s Cut project which aimed to update a number of classic cuts for the modern dancefloor, this is a record that endures the test of time. Working alongside The Frankie Knuckles Foundation and Eric Kupper, SoSure Music now releases two new remixes for 2020 from Darrius Syrossian and Alan Dixon.

First up, House music aficionado and legendary Sankey’s resident Darius Syrossian offers his unique blend of beats to the remix package. With releases on the likes of Get Physical, Viva Music and Hot Creations, Darius’ production is heavily influenced by some of the greats – think of the finest spinners from Detroit, New York and Chicago – and is well placed to approach this huge task. Darius introduces a rolling house beat and some old skool breakbeats into his mix, keeping the energy high throughout; bringing a feeling of a euphoria and hitting the peak time moment.

Charting a rapid rise through the ranks in a relatively short time Alan Dixon is already building a name for himself in House and Nu Disco scene and has recently released on labels including Glitterbox, Permanent Vacation, Running Back and True Romance. Alan’s remix aims directly at the centre of the disco dancefloor. A strong beat dominates a unique energy through the mix along with a slightly nostalgic vibe. With a beautiful floaty interlude and a raw emotion this remix updates a classic with respect while also giving a fresh new twist.

Reverberations of Non-Stop Traffic on Redding Road is a duet in ambience by Pan American (Mark K. Nelson) and Kramer. This experimental record is 11 brief sojourns into the dream state, produced by Kramer (of Shimmy-Disc) and co-written with Mark K. Nelson (of Labradford, Anjou).This record is a brotherly and collaborative follow-up to Kramer's 2022 ambient excursions, "Music For Films Edited By Moths".On the making of this collaborative project, Mark K. Nelson said "It was an honor to work with Kramer. That we came out of it with a great friendship and a record that's unique to each of our histories and music that we're proud to share is a privilege and a joy."As Kramer has described, the result of this record is a work that begs listeners, both animal and human, to allow these beautiful landscapes to sing and speak and weep for themselves.Simply put by Kramer, "Please. Forget about words. Just LISTEN."