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The second volume of El Búho's "Tributaries" remix compilation series brings together 14 more remixes from UK born producer and remix extraordinaire Robin Perkins aka El Búho. Building on 2018's first volume, the evolution of the producer's sound and influences becomes clear. The album is threaded together by reinterpretations of traditional music in a new electronic-organic context. Be it Galician, Estonian, Colombian, Irish, Garifuna, Reunionnaise or Frenchfolkmusic, El Búho makes his own unique tribute to the originals, bringing them into his owlish universe.

The album mixes club-ready bangers with beautiful and moving interpretations, easily making sense both in your living room or behind the decks. We are treated to a wide delta of influences, styles and sounds, moving between the slow, psychedelic electronic cumbia take on Chadian group Pulo NDJ's Dabadji Am Alcorama across the Atlantic to the upbeat, dancefloor fire remix of Garifuna Collective Ideruni, from an anthemic version of No Más Velorio by Colombia's Plu Con Pla to a refreshing, driving remix of up and coming Reunionnaise producer Eat My Butterfly.

Tributaries offers both a nod to the past, paying tribute to traditions andfolkmusic around the world, and a vision of the future, carving out new channels and directions, transporting the flows of the past into the future.




d 04: Biomigrant - La Muerte (El Búho Remix) feat. Toño García & Fredys Arrieta
[e] 05: Eat My Butterfly - Dann Ton Zié (El Búho Remix) [feat. Sibu Manaï]

[g] 07: The Garifuna Collective - Ideruni (Help) [El Búho Remix]

Before he co-founded the legendary Sunday afternoon event Body & Soul with fellow New York DJs Danny Krivit and Francois Kevorkian in 1996, Joaquin "Joe" Claussell was the driving force behind Instant House, an eclectic production outift who released a series of uplifting deep house records, several of which were spun by David Mancuso at the 90s iteration of his influential Loft parties.

In 1993, Instant House released their deepest single, Lost Horizons, through Jungle Sounds Recordings. The A-side, ‘Lost Horizons (The Mind Travel Saturday Night Sunday Morning Mix)’ is a seventeen-minute and twenty-second sojourn into the vibrant club sounds of early 90s NYC. Driven by a Latin-accented man-machine beat that marches into infinity, it comes backed by two shorter mixes, ‘Lost Horizons’ and ‘Lost Horizons (Percussion Bonus)’. Twenty-nine years later, Isle of Jura presents an official vinyl and digital reissue of this slow-burning deep cut.

The Instant House story begins in the late 80s at Dance Tracks, an East Village record store established by the businessman, DJ, and graphic designer Stan Hatzakis. Patronised by New York trendsetters like Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan, Dance Tracks was considered one of the world's best underground dance music retailers.

During the winter of 1991, Stan got together with one of his best customers, Tony Confusione, to make music. A wall street guy by day and a keyboardist by night, Tony was also a serious DJ. Not long after their first recording sessions, they invited another Dance Tracks fixture, Joaquin "Joe" Claussell, to join them in Tony’s state-of-the-art home studio in Long Island. He brought a vibrant, percussive edge to the sample-based tracks Stan and Tony were cooking up. Emboldened, the three DJs began recording together as Instant House. That year, they released the Dance Trax EP.

In 1992, after Instant House had dropped two certified classics, 'Over' and 'Awade', for Jungle Sounds Records, Stan exited the group and sold Dance Tracks to Joe and his business partner, Stefan Prescott. Following Stan's departure, Joe and Tony headed into the studio for a special recording session. “I just remember how powerful the connection was while we were making that record,” explains Joe, recalling the creation of ‘Lost Horizons (The Mind Travel Saturday Night Sunday Morning Mix)’. “It was a very spiritual encounter in the studio.”

While laying out the drum patterns, sound effects, and arrangement, Joe explained the vibe to Tony, who played the lush cosmic chords and an effortless keyboard saxophone line over the top. “That was Tony completely feeling himself,” Joe reflects. “He performed majestically.”

After the release of the Lost Horizons 12”, Joe received a phone call from Cisco International Corp. A plane flight later, he was sitting in their label offices in Tokyo, talking to a senior record executive who wanted to introduce Lost Horizons to Japan. “What they were primarily doing at the time was pressing classical records - we’re talking thousand dollar plus classical reissues - and they wanted to license and distribute Lost Horizons,” Joe remembers. Three years later, Joe and Tony released 'Asking Forgiveness', their final 12” as Instant House, before parting ways with full hearts.

In the context of his career as a DJ, remixer, and producer, Joe is known for long songs and compositions. As Lost Horizons illustrates, he’s carried that impulse with him since his foundational days. “When I produce, I don’t believe in the beginning or endpoint of anything,” Joe explains. “I really despise the rules. To me, that’s not true to the art of creation. I just believe there is a flow in creation. When we were making music in the 90s, we were restricted by format, but that record could have gone on forever.”

The 12” is housed in a full sleeve jacket by Bradley Pinkerton based on the original release design.

True concept albums are actually few and far between. While it can be said that The Who’s Tommy and Quadrophenia, or Pink Floyd’s The Wall were designed from the ground up, that’s not necessarily the case for equally mythical, yet composite, albums such as Bowie’s The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust…, or Lou Reed’s Berlin. In France, the genre established its pedigree in the 1970s with Serge Gainsbourg, then in the early 1980s with Léo Ferré. Cri d'amour by Mélanie Chédeville adds to this list of albums that tell a story through characters.

Cri d'amour was produced in a seaside setting, which may explain its flowing, organic character. It is all by herself that the violinist-by-training composed, wrote and arranged this collection of string-drenched songs that recall Jean-Claude Vannier’s work for Serge Gainsbourg. The latter would undoubtedly have been impressed by Mélanie’s fine-cut lyrics and melodies that are as raw as they are sophisticated, vocalized in a sprechgesang recalling his own. The deliberately retro palette, up to the bass sound so typical of 1960s English rock, betrays an artist indebted to the creator of Bonnie & Clyde and Initials B.B. through a sensual, clear tonality. Yet, polyrhythms borrowed from the late afro-beat legend Tony Allen, and the touches of guitar, piano, percussion and synthesizers distilled here and there by Éric and Mélanie, end up giving the whole affair a resolutely atemporal color.

Mélanie was sixteen with a head full of Beethoven and Brahms when she succumbed to an unexpected fascination for the world of Éric, a pianist, composer and sound engineer, who regularly delivered scores for Marc Dorcel’s X-rated films. She evokes him in L'Alpha-bêta and Le Pornographe, through whispered choruses that would suit the late Julee Cruise or Vanessa Daou to a tee, and explicit allusions to a “sword of Damocles” of “XXL” dimensions.

These are not the only texts on this album that remind us of the Franco-American author Anaïn Nin’s erotic poems, a model that Mélanie willingly takes on, adding to the list of her literary influences alongside Apollinaire and his Debauched Hospodar:

Some may find this album old-fashioned, which, far from being a flaw, is a credit to the fine musician that Mélanie is. Others will call it a charming album, which is not a bad way to describe it, provided that it is a powerfully relentless charm.

It’s almost four years since their last opus - two years since the most-recent run
of live shows. Now, Bitchin Bajas return from whatever kind of rare ether they
occupy when they’re at home, bearing the riches of the whole cosmos in their
hands. And strictly OG as well - on cassette only.
 ‘Switched On Ra’ is the outcome of a typical Bajas exercise: pouring some out
for the pioneers that came before (as they’ve done with Bitchitronics and their
participation in the annual Chicago performance of ‘In C’ over the years). It’s a
nice way to get a flow - they play a little of themselves, then some for the
pioneers, then a little more for the band. Before long, they’re playing with the
inspirations twined, as they can only come from within.
 For ‘Switched On Ra’, this meant a deep delve into the song-book of one of their
soul-predecessors, Sun Ra, whose music is literally written in the Bajas DNA.
Digging into this music sounded wild on paper: the drone synth group taking on
the Arkestra harmonies and Ra’s loose grooves? The trick was to get that sense
of rhythm to translate across the spectrum from Ra to Bajas, in a way that
worked for them both.
 Their rearrangements of the tunes went good - up and down the EQ band, they
were finding the round sounds and jagged edges that brought Ra’s music into
their own thing. Then at the last minute, there was another twist - why not pay
tribute to the Queen herself, and think of the arrangements with a Wendy Carlos
vibe? A little side homage? After all, ‘Switched on Bach’ was visionary, bringing
analogue synths from the outside all the way into the mainstream in the late 60s -
and this take on Ra is meant to take him to new ears everywhere.
 Sun Ra of course was his own kind of original keyboard visionary, using electric
keyboards in the late 40s and 50s to fill a role in jazz that had traditionally been
played on acoustic piano only. Once he’d done so, he took his writing in
directions inspired by the electricity, places no one had thought to go before
then.
 Bitchin Bajas have been content to dominate in a microtonal world, usually
without a single chord to be found anywhere. But here, they step up righteously,
their vibe triangulated as they bring Ra’s music forward with some Wendy C
style, making an unexpected space for all to thrive. There’s a real feeling of joy
as these collected signals bounce off the tape and through the speakers into
your space.
 To get this unique colloid exactly right, Bitchin Bajas used nineteen different
keyboards. They abstained from deploying their arsenal of reed and woodwind
instruments: everything had to be on the keys. This meant Yamahas, Rolands,
Korgs, Casios, a MicroMoog and of course their trusty Ace Tone organ. They
even broke out the Crumar DS-2, to have some of Ra’s chosen tone in the mix.
Then Jayve Montgomery added an EWI as a solo voice on a few tunes, just to
get some air-blown signal (and a natural shout out to EWI master Marshall Allen)
in there, after all. It felt like somewhere in the universe, Ra was decreeing it.

Vielen erscheint Istanbul als ein von Mythen und Traditionen umrankter Sehnsuchtsort, andere betrachten es als Symbol für wirtschaftlichen Fortschritt. Seit den Gezi Park-Protesten 2013 sieht Westeuropa in der pittoresken Metropole am Bosporus mehr als die Hagia Sofia und andere Kulturdenkmäler. Der Gitarrist Erkin Cavus verbrachte viele Jahre seines Lebens in der riesigen, hochverdichteten und oft hektischen Stadt. Hier hat er Karriere gemacht, an der Seite berühmter Künstler gespielt, ehe er vor rund vier Jahren nach Deutschland zog. Nun setzt Cavus, zusammen mit Reentko Dirks, dem historischen Istanbul ein klingendes Denkmal. Inspiriert von Bildern des berühmten Fotografen Ara Güler (1928-2018), der als einfühlsamer und detailverliebter Beobachter zum Chronisten des Lebens seiner Heimatstadt wurde. Seine Aufnahmen des mittlerweile verblassten, teils unwiederbringlich zerstörten Istanbul und der ehedem höchst unterschiedlichen Stadtteile hängen längst in Museen. Bei der Entwicklung des Repertoires für Istanbul 1900 hat sich das Duo bewusst Zeit genommen. Der stärkste kompositorische "Flow" entwickelte sich in den Wochen vor dem Studiotermin. Die individuelle Form der Stücke, die absichtsvoll konkrete Jazz- wie traditionellen Bezüge vermeidet, "hat sich ungeplant entwickelt", so Istanbul 1900 ist eine atmosphärische Hommage, die mitunter nachdenklich klingt, dann wieder zarte Leichtigkeit suggeriert. Angesichts des Themas Vergänglichkeit und des Umstands, dass Erkin Cavus seiner Heimatstadt nicht ganz freiwillig Adieu sagen musste, ist ein Hauch Melancholie sicher keine Überraschung. Gleichwohl vermeiden die beiden Musiker jedes dramatische Pathos. Ihre Töne zeichnen, ganz im Geist der Schwarzweißa-Fotos Ara Gülers, feine Schattierungen. Selbst wenn sie in "Moda" schwungvoll das Nachtleben der großstädtischen Bohème oder in "Pera" die Dynamik in Straßencafés und -kneipen nach Feierabend imaginieren. Insgesamt entwickelt Istanbul 1900 einen sehr eigenen, subtilen Zauber, den man so nur selten erlebt. Ganz wie die Stadt, die an der Schnittstelle von Orient und Okzident Welten verbindet.

Outsider, alt, psych, power trio Jemma Freeman and The Cosmic Something are the aural equivalent of a distorted photograph capturing the hinterland found between emotions and actions. Emerging like joyous sci-fi warriors, the songs either overtly or indirectly demonstrate solidarity with anyone that’s ever identified feeling off kilter with the rest of the universe and needed an equally wonky soundtrack to back it. An introspective journey through psychedelic glam-rock nightmares, woozy flows of self discovery and beguiling lyrics delivered with subtlety and intensity. Jem, Samuel Nicholson (bass) and Jason Ribeiro (drums) are your astral guides in this strange country, illuminating a path, in reality they’re as lost as the listener. In this limbo, thoughts tumble on top of each other through twisted rhythmic guitar, bass and drum lines that interchange and play with each other in a frenzied cosmic dance. // “An onslaught of guitar...” – Popoptica // "lush guitar work and rapid fire energy.. part Kate Jackson part PJ Harvey.” - For The Rabbits // Tracklisting: 1. Big Bread 2. Easy Peeler 3. Nobody Ever 4. Huge 5. Lump 6. Maersky 7. Bugles 8. I Thought Too Much 9. Sicilian Mousse 10. Take Me

Toronto’s Dan Lee steps out of the spotlight and into the producer’s chair on the new collaborative Lee Paradise LP, Lee Paradise & Co., due October 28 2022 on Telephone Explosion. Lee Paradise & Co. follows 2020’s critically acclaimed The Fink LP, and finds Lee flipping the shadowy nihilism of the project’s previous releases upward into a sort of cybernetic universality. This is Dan Lee in producer mode, veering away from the pursuit of a singular musical direction rooted in personal vision, towards of a process rich in collaboration, emotional expansion and tonal exploration.

Starting off as a set of mood-focusedinstrumental sketches drafted by Dan on his own, the compositions began coloringthemselves in after he started sending the tracks out to collaborators, asking them to contribute without much in the way of direction or intention. With help from an ensemble cast of artists including Carlyn Bezic (Jane Inc.), Jonathan Pappo (Scott Hardware, No Frills, Ducks Ltd), Scott Hardware, Isla Craig, Victoria Cheong (New Chance), Jay Anderson, Charise Aragoza & Lukas Cheung (Mother Tongues) and Daniel Woodhead (Moon King), nearly every aspect of this album’s creation eventually became open to collaboration, from musical performances, lyric writing, and vocals all the way through to mixing and mastering.

Sonically, the record is still unmistakably Lee Paradise: a widescreen polyrhythmic psychedelia that melts, bubbles, whirrs and klanks; the sound of the human and the machine grooving in accordance towards new futures. The album’s sonic palette is at once synthetic, warm and extraterrestrial. Arpeggiated square wave melodies dance in lockstep with crunching hi-hats, digital bells and chimes fall like crystal rain in stereo above plush pads and gurgling bass figures. Used to finishing the records on his own, Lee mixed this album with Montreal’s Asher Gould-Murtagh and the results are spacious, dusty and dubbed out. “Carnival” sets the scene with it’s stuttering, busted funk groove and ribbons of aqueous vocal harmony from New Chance’s Victoria Cheong. “Raffles”(featuring one of Daniel’s two vocal performances on the record) radiates a mellow optimism in its solar-warped balearic bliss. The album’s final track, “Youngish” is a gliding, melancholic downtempo instrumental thumper saturated in a kaleidoscopic array of lysergic tones. As always, the record anchors itself to the dancefloor with the screwed-down electro of “Cement”, the swinging midnight afterglow of “Leaving” and “CS2X”’s fluttering rave arpeggios.

Lee Paradise & Co. is the sound of an expert producer and sound sculptor conceding to the elusive flows of inspiration, knocking genre conventions askew and hopscotching between a variety of styles, musical identities and sound worlds with absolute panache.

dreamcastmoe is the recording project of singer, songwriter, producer, and DJ Davon Bryant, a lifelong resident of Washington, DC. His music moves freely between moods and modes, hypnotic, romantic, traversing electronic, R&B, funk, soul, and hip-hop... Resident Advisor dubs it "soulful, cross-genre dance music." This ability to adapt and finesse, to twist in different directions while staying true and coherent in vision, can be traced to his home city and its complex cultural history. "Most Black kids in DC don't ever get to this point," he says. "This is what I am making this music for, in the DC tradition of soul and empathy and love that is rooted in this city. My music is for real people dealing with shit every day." A versatile, modern artist and collaborator, dreamcastmoe has thrived in the underground since his first uploads to Soundcloud and Bandcamp in 2017 and subsequent releases with labels like People's Potential Unlimited, Trading Places, and In Real Life Music. Bryant's laid-back personality, emotional honesty, and infectious energy shine through his work and how he talks about it, as Crack Magazine notes in their 2021 Rising feature: "a steady combination of confidence, creativity, and calmness." He grew up playing drums in church; he's worked dead-end jobs, had ups and downs, even sold off all his gear one time, but never stopped reinvesting in himself. He is quick to praise his co-producers, rattle off influences _ the visual feel of NBA 2K, the comedic timing of Bernie Mac, the savvy legacy of Duke Ellington, for starters _ and credit resourceful DC breakouts like Ankhlejohn that showed him the roadmap. His voice, a steady instrument, seemingly connects it all, capable of slow falsetto flow, swaggering talk-rap, and outright croon. His storytelling style is choppy yet fluid, like a mixtape, which is how Bryant sees Sound Is Like Water, his debut on Ghostly's International's freeform label, Spectral Sound. The two-part project culminates as a full-length LP release in November 2022. The first side, released as Part I, opens on the blurred beats of "El Dorado," which dreamcastmoe dedicates to his journey. It's a head-nodder, an off-kilter earworm co-produced by Max D (Future Times, RVNG Intl, etc.), with Bryant harmonizing hooks with synth jabs and a pitched-down presence. "Complicated" is the slow jam, delivered smoothly from a Saturday night crossroads. dreamcastmoe is contemplative and committed... gliding and locking ad-libs into skittering rhythms courtesy of co-producer Zackary Dawson _ but also willing to let something go, "acknowledging that everything in life IS NOT easy." "RU Ready" takes off from the jump as a tribute, challenge, and promise to his partner and his city ("The times you sat with me when I needed you the most / Told me the things that I needed to see / Young black man, really trying to be what I can be / And I'm really from DC). In its potent two-plus minutes, the sonics (co-produced by ZDBT) press the message, all cymbal crashes, breakbeats, and serrated synth lines. "Cloudy Weather, Wear Boots" is a blitzing dance-punk track made in collaboration with Jordan GCZ on Bryant's first trip to Amsterdam. The album's flipside opens on "Much More," the first of two synth-and-beat ballads co-produced by ZDBT. Later on "Long Songz," he claims, "I'm not writing love songs no more," prioritizing the vibe with "all my day ones." He calls it "a cry for more normal moments. Everything doesn't have to be a fantasy love story, more time spent getting to the money, growing, and making a way." He saves two of his most propulsive cuts for the finale, co-produced by Sami, co-founder of DC dance label 1432 R. As their titles suggest, "Take A Moment" and "Make Ya Mind" operate as anthems for movement, with Bryant free-flowing commands above wildly-styled percussion. Per Bryant, the latter is both "wake & bake jam" and a "dance floor bomb." His parting line: "Action / You got to show me action / Reaction." The world of dreamcastmoe straddles virtual reality and the realness of DC, images both imagined and lived-in. Bryant has a knack for unexpected melodies but what makes his music so exciting is his capacity to defy the expectations of genre and image. A fluid ingenuity and vulnerability bottled by Sound Is Like Water, and this is just the beginning.

Für Fans von: (frühe) Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride, Anathema.
Die dänische Band Empire Drowns, die eine geschmackvolle Mischung aus Doom/Death-Metal der alten Schule und düsterem Gothic-Rock bietet, ist
nach der 2013er EP "Bridges" endlich bereit für die Veröffentlichung ihres Debütalbums.
Auf "Nothing" hat die Band eine härtere Herangehensweise an ihren Doom Metal angestrebt, und Marco Angioni von den Angioni Studios (Tygers
Of Pan Tang, Detest, Thorium etc.) wurde beauftragt, einen Sound einzufangen, der den frühen Neunzigern nahekommt, als das Academy Studio in
Großbritannien der Ort war, an dem Bands dieses Genres bevorzugt aufnahmen. Zu den Alben, die den Sound von "Nothing" inspiriert haben, gehören "As The Flower Withers", "Gothic" und "Serenades".
"Nothing" zeichnet sich durch eine intensive Rhythmussektion und aufsteigende, melodische Gitarrenarbeit, atmosphärische Keyboards aus, die
zusammen mit dem gleichzeitig düsteren, knurrenden Gesang eine schwere und fesselnde Stimmung erzeugen.
Als Songwriter zeigen Empire Drowns eine erfrischende Vielfalt. Jeder Song hat seine eigene, unverwechselbare Identität, doch das Ausloten verschiedener musikalischer Wege führt zu einem ganzheitlichen und nachdenklichen Sound, den Empire Drowns mit Stolz ihr Eigen nennen können.
Empire Drowns besteht aus erfahrenen Musikern von Bands wie Aurora, Decorate. Decorate, Urkraft, Withering Surface, Meridian & A Sun Traverse.

Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy, x2 LPs of long-form, lyrical, groove-based free improv by acclaimed guitarist & composer Jeff Parker's ETA IVtet. Recorded live at ETA (referencing David Foster Wallace), a bar in LA’s Highland Park neighborhood with just enough space in the back for Parker, drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, & alto saxophonist Josh Johnson to convene in extraordinarily depth-full & exploratory music making. Gleaned for the stoniest side-length cuts from 10+ hours of vivid two-track recordings made between 2019 & 2021 by Bryce Gonzales, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy is a darkly glowing séance of an album, brimming over with the hypnotic, the melodic, & patience & grace in its own beautiful strangeness. Room-tone, electric fields, environment, ceiling echo, live recording, Mondays, Los Angeles. Jeff Parker's first double album & first live album, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy belongs in the lineage of such canonical live double albums recorded on the West Coast as Lee Morgan’s Live at the Lighthouse, Miles Davis' In Person Friday & Saturday Night at the Blackhawk, San Francisco & Black Beauty, & John Coltrane's Live in Seattle.

While the IVtet sometimes plays standards &, including on this recording, original compositions, it is as previously stated largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term. The music is more free composition than free improvisation, more blending than discordant. It’s tensile, yet spacious & relaxed. Clearly all four musicians have spent significant time in the planetary system known as jazz, but relationships to other musics, across many scenes & eras —dub & Dilla, primary source psychedelia, ambient & drone— suffuse the proceedings. Listening to playbacks Parker remarked, humorously & not, “we sound like the Byrds” (to certain ears, the Clarence White-era Byrds, who really stretched it).

A fundamental of all great ensembles, whether basketball teams or bands, is the ability of each member to move fluidly & fluently in & out of lead & supportive roles. Building on the communicative pathways they’ve established in Parker’s -The New Breed- project, Parker & Johnson maintain a constant dialogue of lead & support. Their sampled & looped phrases move continuously thru the music, layered & alive, adding depth & texture & pattern, evoking birds in formation, sea creatures drifting below the photic zone. Or, the two musicians simulate those processes by entwining their terse, clear-lined playing in real-time. The stop/start flow of Bellerose, too, simulates the sampler, recalling drum parts in Parker’s beat-driven projects. Mostly Bellerose's animated phraseologies deliver the inimitable instantaneous feel of live creative drumming. The range of tonal colors he conjures from his extremely vintage battery of drums & shakers —as distinctive a sonic signature as we have in contemporary acoustic drumming— bring almost folkloric qualities to the aesthetic currency of the IVtet's language. A wonderful revelation in this band is the playing of Anna Butterss. The strength, judiciousness & humility with which she navigates the bass position both ground & lift upward the egalitarian group sound. As the IVtet's grooves flow & clip, loop & repeat, the ensemble elements reconfigure, a terrarium of musical cultivation growing under controlled variables, a tight experiment of harmony & intuition, deep focus & freedom.

For all its varied sonic personality, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy scans immediately & unmistakably as music coming from Jeff Parker‘s unique sound world. Generous in spirit, trenchant & disciplined in execution, Parker’s music has an earned respect for itself & for its place in history that transmutes through the musical event into the listener. Many moods & shapes of heart & mind will find utility & hope in a music that combines the autonomy & the community we collectively long to see take hold in our world, in substance & in staying power.

On the personal tip, this was always my favorite gig to hit, a lifeline of the eremite records Santa Barbara years. Mondays southbound on the 101, driving away from tasks & screens & illness, an hour later ordering a double tequila neat at the bar with the band three feet away, knowing i was in good hands, knowing it would be back around on another Monday. To encounter life at scales beyond the human body is the collective dance of music & the beholding of its beauty, together. – Michael Ehlers & Zac Brenner

On August 26th Gwilym Gold releases his third album, Blue Garden, on SA Recordings. Alongside the record we are pitching the beautiful Blue Garden. Gwilym began playing improvised music as a pianist and may be fondly remembered as the singer and keyboardist in psychedelic pop trio Golden Silvers but has since worked widely as a soloist. 2012 saw the release of his high-concept solo piece Tender Metal which was composed and released using Bronze; a new music technology which Gold created with producer Lexxx alongside Mick Grierson. Using Bronze, a song is enabled to rebuild itself on each playback from the musical seeds and ground sown by the writer. Music composed with Bronze is not restricted to just one playback possibility, it is a dynamic, ever-transforming representation of itself where the artist builds a new model as part of each song’s writing process. Gwilym has since collaborated with artists such as Arca, Jai Paul, Philippe Parreno and Nicolas Becker, introducing them to this new technology. One of the hopes for Bronze is that it brings some of the characteristics of performance back into previously inert musical documents, and alongside his work with Bronze, Gwilym has maintained a wide performance practice. Performing recently alongside musicians such as Dave Okumu, Tom Skinner and Lucinda Chua and collaborating with artists Eddie Peake and Holly Blakey. His two recent collections of songs, A Paradise and Sky Blue Room, stem from this, the second being recorded almost entirely live in three days alongside Okumu and drummer Dan See. Blue Garden is Gwilym’s first collection written and recorded entirely in solitude and he hoped to unburden the process of anything beyond the most primary elements. Setting up a sort of hybrid harp in a small isolated room, the aim was to let the songs flow out unadorned and record them as they were. The only addition to the album is the accompanying sound of rivers and birdsong by sound recordist and founding member of Cabaret Voltaire, Chris Watson. Gwilym started to play the new album alongside Watson’s recording ‘The Drinking Boy’ which led him to reach out to Watson. Gwilym explains “I played it to a friend once I had recorded it with Chris’ field recordings, they said it almost sounded like the quarantine birds, there was a feeling of it being a little sanctuary”. The songs on Blue Garden were written during a bittersweet time, where Gold was experiencing moments of love, loss and rebirth. The album is a loose and abstract exploration of love in all its forms, how familial, platonic and romantic love are all intertwined.

If you ever wondered what ambient music of the 21st century could sound like, then you should explore the musical spheres of "ifsonever". This colorful debut-album draws a blueprint of an urban ambient club record of a parallel universe. A collage of beautifully improvised pieces, strictly recorded in "one takes". A gripping fusion that brings together the warm analog textures of classic vintage synthesizers and electronic urban ambiences.

Trying to appreciate the recent times of silence and deceleration, Daniel Helmer aka ifsonever has quickly developed a tonal language as a solo artist. With a non-compromising approach he would visit his studio, a cozy garden shed, to record one new track a day in strictly analog fashion as "one takes". His aim for this project was to capture the innocence and instinctive creative energy of the present moment. These 9 timeless pieces invite the listener to explore hypnotic and meditative atmospheres such as on the opener "transpose" or on "jonesy dreams of birds", as well as gloomy and almost mystical sounding tracks such as "total global" or "an unexpected error has occurred". ifsonever is a wonderful amalgamation of organic, laid-back sounds and electronic, club oriented elements.

Recorded at a time when social contact was forbidden and culture was at a standstill, many professional musicians felt challenged not to feel useless when performances and sessions in public were cancelled, while the need for expression, participation and communication persisted. What happens when you've read all your books, when you're tired of looking at screens, and when you're digitally saturated? Then the unbearable lightness of being will begin. Daniel Helmer decided to let his creativity flow into a picture depicting that moment in time. He gave himself the opportunity to reflect this period through the creation of music. Not always an easy thing to do when the only social interactions would be cats passing by or the sound of children playing nearby. However that can be exactly the perfect tranquil surrounding to ground oneself in the here and now and draw inspiration from the inside. This self titled album reflects a peaceful journey from start to finish.

Two old friends have been invited to contribute overdubs in hindsight. MillianX is a film composer and noise artist, a colleague from the viennese filmacademy. Both worked together on the film score for the science fiction movie "Rubikon" while the album was in its final stages. So a collaboration was an obvious choice. The creamy arpeggiated synthline created for "jonesy dreams of birds"' was extended by Millianx with some field recordings and a big cloudy synthwave that dips into a vast sea of noise.

Guido Spannocchi is a london based jazz musician. Both knew each other for several years but never had the chance to work together. When Daniel Helmer wrote "an unknown error has occured" he imagined a saxophone layer to accompany the existing synthline. But when the two musicians finally got together to record in the legendary jazz club "Porgy & Bess", Guido just let his creativity flow and jammed freely to the track with a totally unique jazz vibe.

Between film, music & sound Daniel Helmer is continuously searching for a spot to call his own. Expanding boundaries, pursuing the unheard and breaking genre definitions are byproducts of his curiosity and his drive to avoid repetition. Daniel Helmer resides in Vienna where he studied at the local film academy. He became one of the founding members of the techno-punk band "Gudrun von Laxenburg" with album releases on the legendary Skint label, collaborated with Sam Irl on "International Major Label" as the production duo "Mantra Mantra" and released an album as "Yogtze" on Gerd Janson's imprint "Running Back Incantations", together with Feater. At the moment he is focusing on his work as a film composer and is currently working on two feature films in Austria.

"ifsonever" offers a timeless ambience to help you slow down, reflect and enjoy the beauty of nothingness. It might help us to learn and accept a state of being unutilized without feeling futile and benefit from this rare silence.

The cover artwork is a collaboration between Jazz & Milk graphic designer Tim Schmitt and photographer Frank Hulsbömer. A scan of the artist's head, hand and foot was 3D printed, photographed and transformed into an otherworldly scenery that visualizes the musical atmosphere.

After Quiet Places (2020) Andreas Vollenweider has grouped his music
on his new album according to atmosphere and character: Slow Flow is a collection of pieces with a relaxed, flowing feel, while "Dancer" is full of movement and rhythm All 11 songs on "Slow Flow" and "Dancer" were created between 2010 and 2021 in collaboration with British producer Andy Wright (Eurythmics, Simply Red, Jeff Beck, Simple Minds, among many others). The two were supported in their
creative process by Vollenweider's talented circle of friends, who laid the foundation for the songs: Walter Keiser (drums), Andi Pupato (percussion), Daniel Kueffer (bass clarinet), Oliver Keller (guitars) and the young Swiss rapper and beat boxer Steff La Cheffe, a.k.a. Stefanie Peter. The music of "Dancer" also reflects Vollenweider's connection with Africa. The South African vocal harmony band Africapella and singer Ayanda Nhlangothi embody this connection. The London Session Orchestra, consisting of musicians from the Royal Symphonic
Orchestra under the direction of James McWilliam, filled out the sound.
Renowned British producer and arranger Peter Vettese is responsible for most of the orchestration. The recordings took place at Andreas' Lakeside Studios in Switzerland, as well as at SABC Studios in Johannesburg, South Africa, and finally at the legendary Abbey Road Studios in London. Andy Wright's long-time sound engineer Gavin Goldberg has set new sonic standards for Vollenweider's music
with his work, and is able to delight even the most discerning audiophiles with a punchy yet transparent, dynamic soundscape.

Trauma and tragedy transfer from one generation to the next. As difficult as it may be, we still possess the power to break the cycle and start anew. Fit For A King ponder the pain of these cycles and the possibility to end them on their seventh full-length offering, The Hell We Create Solid State. The Texas quintet—Ryan Kirby [vocals], Bobby Lynge [guitar], Daniel Gailey [guitar], Ryan “Tuck” O’Leary [bass], and Trey Celaya [drums]—explore this ebb and flow with a deft, yet delicate balance of sharp metallic intensity and soaring melodic energy. Drawing on real-life experiences, the band members collectively rallied around Ryan and his family as they endured seemingly unending turbulence… “The album is a reflection of the events that happened throughout the pandemic,” recalls Ryan. “In short, my wife and I adopted children and had to homeschool them. She almost died from a stroke. The Hell We Create is by far the deepest and most personal record we’ve ever written.” “Falling Through the Sky" represents the mental struggles I had dealt with during the pandemic, and how little my upbringing prepared me to deal with it. Between adopting two children, my wife having constant health issues, and me losing almost 70% of my income, I was an absolute wreck. I thought my religious upbringing and faith would be enough to help me when adversity struck, but when the tidal wave came, I struggled immensely. So many think just having faith is enough to pull you through anything life throws at you, but the reality is, it makes a lot of us complacent in our personal growth.

Massimiliano Pagliara returns to Permanent Vacation with his fourth studio album "See You In Paradise". After the highly acclaimed "Nothing Stays In One Place For Long" EP from 2020, this is the first full-length from the Italian-raised and Berlin-based producer for the label. Albums in the dance music genre can often be a challenge in terms of finding the right balance between the dancefloor and listening at home. Massimiliano, however, mastered this craftmanship perfectly while reviving the art of the album format.
Mostly written and produced in the lockdown period of spring 2020 these 10 tracks offer the whole sonic spectrum from the "Massi universe". The hardware enthusiast blends analogue-heavy and bright synthesizer melodies, pop hooks, Chicago house groove with more technoid tracks and atmospheric soundscapes. Taking you on a journey through his mind, body and soul: From his underground disco passion and pulsating dancefloor moments to ethereal and meditative ambience.

Inspired, both musically and aesthetically - one of his favourite carnal catchphrases titles the album - by Disco hero Patrick Cowley, Massimiliano channelled past, present and future in searching for new adventures within his music. For the first time working with live musicians (saxophone and piano) to bring a new facet on the table, that flows with the production seamlessly.

Communication and getting into a dialogue is a crucial part for Massimiliano as an artist. Whether it used to be as a ballet dancer, as a DJ, most prominently as a resident of the legendary Berghain / Panorama Bar, a producer and in collaboration with other artists and musicians: Maestro Massi has gathered an illustrious group of friends and like minded artist such as Snax, Fort Romeau and Init (with whom he has worked before), as well as new collaborators including Curses, Coloray and Vanessa. Under the artistic direction of Massimiliano each artist was able to bring his own unique talent into the album's coherent production and together with Massimiliano they created something that is more than the sum of its parts: A refuge full of beauty and harmony and free from worries in an upside down world. In other words: "See You In Paradise”

Freedom – the debut album from Leah Weller – a modern soul soundtrack to her head spinning twenties turning into empowered, contented thirties. Completed last year, Weller’s first complete album follows a decade-long career on catwalks, in front of cameras and making dancefloors shake, constantly on the move and with music as a constant companion. Finding the escape route out of anxiety-inducing mix-and-match career moves with the stability of love, the slowdown of repeated lockdowns and, finally, motherhood, Weller’s race is now to be run at her own pace with a collection of songs set perfectly to her flow.



Gathering nine, finely-tailored songs together with a drum beat of support from producer and collaborator, Steve Craddock, the collection speaks, much rather than screams, of finding the sweet spot between the need for hope, however naïve, and the truths that only experience can spell out.

Freedom – the debut album from Leah Weller – a modern soul soundtrack to her head spinning twenties turning into empowered, contented thirties. Completed last year, Weller’s first complete album follows a decade-long career on catwalks, in front of cameras and making dancefloors shake, constantly on the move and with music as a constant companion. Finding the escape route out of anxiety-inducing mix-and-match career moves with the stability of love, the slowdown of repeated lockdowns and, finally, motherhood, Weller’s race is now to be run at her own pace with a collection of songs set perfectly to her flow.



Gathering nine, finely-tailored songs together with a drum beat of support from producer and collaborator, Steve Craddock, the collection speaks, much rather than screams, of finding the sweet spot between the need for hope, however naïve, and the truths that only experience can spell out.

Giorgia Angiuli’s 13 track album ‘Quantum Love’ on her UNITED label combines and contrasts fast, insistent dance beats with her signature melodic synths and dreamy lyrics; ‘an eclectic work including piano downtempo tracks and techno melodic tracks with ethereal vocals’ (Angiuli).

The multi-talented live artist/DJ/producer/vocalist/lyricist and studio-building tech wizard used lockdown as a creative nexus. Einstein’s ‘Imagination is more important than knowledge’ led her to explore quantum physics, while her first India tour inspired ongoing interest in sound meditation and philosophy, culminating in the LP.

‘Quantum Love’ has many moods and speeds; physics and philosophy, contemplative and full-on fast, sweet vocals, meaningful lyrics or purely instrumental, it’s all there. ‘’Quantum Love’ is my inner soundtrack to my recent transformation, summarized in the following sentences: we are made of energy, everything is vibration. We are each our own placebo, happiness can be a choice, we have all the elements inside us for the right path. Nature can teach us everything.’ (Giorgia Angiuli)


Press:

DJ Mag Feature

Flow Music Interview

DJ Mag Post

Four Four Magazine News Piece


DJ Feedback:

Sasha (Last Night On Earth) - solid!

Guy Mantzur (Kompakt, Bedrock, Lost & Found, Sudbeat) - love them all

Anthony Pappa (Selador) - The Timo Maas Remix is excellent.

AFFKT (Sincopat) - Superb remixes!

Fur Coat (Oddity / Delete) - Nice Armonica and Glowal remixes

Israel Sunshine (Fur Coat / Oddity) - Great job! digging all tracks specially Timo and Glowal

Animal Trainer (Mobilee / Stil Vor Talent) - fab remix by Armonica!

Dee Montero (Knee Deep in Sound, Selador Recordings, Anjunadeep) - Timo Maas mix for me

Siavash (You Plus One) - Glowal mix takes the cake in this ep

Chris Fortier (Thoughtless / Sullivan Room / Balance) - super super

Pisetzky (JUST THIS / Last Night On Earth / Oddity) - amazing giu

Sinca (Anjunadeep) - Great remix ep

James Trystan (Suara / Bedrock) - Feeling this!!! Timo Maas for me

Henri Bergmann (Automatik) - armonica always!

Cesar Romero (Simply City) nice!

juSt b (Bedrock / Configurations of Self) nice release, love the key work and vox.

Nhii (No Human Is Illegal) (Sounds of Khemit / Stil Vor / Kindisch) - Timo Maas remix right up my alley!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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