quête:frame six

LS002 marks the first vinyl chapter of 20, Eitan Reiter's two-decade retrospective, distilled through key collaborations and remixes. Featuring Patrice Bäumel, Infected Mushroom, Shpongle, Red Axes, and Echo, this six-track release connects psychedelic heritage with contemporary indie dance and deep electronic aesthetics.
20 (Part 1) is a 12-inch vinyl edition featuring exclusive vinyl cuts, available only on this pressing. The selection reflects Reiter's ability to honor his roots while maintaining a distinctly modern sound,blending psychedelic foundations with cluboriented precision.

A1 - Eitan Reiter - Blue Planet (Remix) Vinyl Cut
The A-side opens with a spacious, atmospheric rework of Blue Planet, balancing restrained tension with melodic clarity.
A2 - Eitan Reiter - X-Vision feat. Echo Vinyl Cut
Echo's vocal performance anchors the track, presented here in a refined vinyl cut that enhances its emotional depth.
A3 - Eitan Reiter & A. Balter - E0E (Eitan Reiter Remix) Vinyl Cut
A driving, hypnotic groove where rhythmic focus meets evolving textures.
A4 - Infected Mushroom & Yahel - Electro Panic (Eitan Reiter Remix) [Vinyl Cut]
A confident reworking of a psytrance classic, reshaped into an 80s-leaning indie dance format.
B1 - Eitan Reiter - Eat You (Patrice Bäumel Remix)
Patrice Bäumel heightens the track's underlying tension with a slow-building, immersive reinterpretation.
B2 - Out of Orbit & Shpongle - No Disco (Red Axes Remix)
Red Axes flip the original into a dark disco framework, adding weight, swing, and late-night character.

LS002 presents a vinyl-focused snapshot of Eitan Reiter's collaborative output, with each track adapted for turntable playback.

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

Vibe Ride is the sixth release of Adam Rudolph's Hu Vibrational project and marks his 60th release as a leader or co-leader. Comes with insert and download code.

“With every record, the goal is to explore new creative territory,” explains Rudolph. Vibe Ride continues a deeper exploration of a trance-like groove and a conceptual framework known as Sonic Mandala. This album marks the most complete realization of that idea, partly due to the group's experience touring beforehand. That time on the road helped to refine ideas and strengthen musical chemistry. The recording process unfolded organically—likely due to the long-standing collaboration within ensembles like Go: Organic Orchestra and Moving Pictures, where the musicians have developed a deep familiarity with the shared musical language.

Sonic Mandala refers to a musical approach distinct from traditional linear structures of theme and development. Found in cultures across the globe, it may represent one of the oldest forms of musical expression—predating written history by tens of thousands of years. Today, it is most vividly preserved in the music of the Ituri Forest peoples (Aka, Baka, Ba Benzele, Mbuti), whose sound traditions revolve in cyclical, orbit-like patterns. Vibe Ride seeks to bring that ancient sense of circularity into a contemporary—and perhaps even futuristic—context.

The ensemble of Vibe Ride—Alexis Marcelo, Jerome Harris, Harris Eisenstadt, Neel Murgai, Tim Kieper, and Tripp Dudley—brings exceptional creativity and skill to the project. While grounded in the sonic languages of today, their performance channels an ancient vibrational lineage, connecting with ancestral sound makers who were attuned to the rhythms of the sun, moon, stars, and seasons. Human beings have always been deeply responsive to natural cycles.

Like a mandala, where the circle reveals itself as a spiral—always returning, but never to the exact same point—the Sonic Mandala musical experience spirals through motion. Refined signal patterns emerge through overtone-rich instrumentation. The groove becomes a threshold, shifting the listener from passive observation into active, even transcendent, participation. With open ears and an open mind, the sound spirals inward—toward a primal center—and outward into the cosmos. When this elevated state is shared among participants, it creates what mystics describe as resonance.

Vibe Ride thrives on the distinctive sonic voices of its players, interwoven with care and nuance into the compositions. Hu Vibrational merges elements of world music, electronica, and improvised jazz into something both funky and spiritual, intense and soothing.

Using signature techniques of organic orchestration, layered arrangement, and electronic processing, the compositions are sculpted from percussion, electronics, and ethereal textures. Rhythmic foundations drawn from diverse traditions serve not as endpoints, but as building blocks. As the saying goes, “Orchestration is the key.” In shaping the sound, the aim was to discover fresh ways of balancing structure and sonic color. As Don Cherry once said: “The swing is in the sound.”

The audiophile LP was carefully recorded, mixed, and mastered by James Dellatacoma—longtime engineer for both Bill Laswell and Rudolph—at Laswell’s Orange Studio.

“This crew artfully blends together to create a seamless tapestry of rhythm… the end results are mesmerizing. Hu Vibrational is all about communing with the groove spirits and creating worlds where earthy rhythms and other-worldly sounds are one.”
— Dan Bilawsky, All Music Guide

“You can be sure that when Adam Rudolph and an ensemble of breathtaking drummers get together mystical and wonderful things will happen.”
— Raul da Gama,

“A stunning effort, enjoyable and grows with repeated listening.”
— Stefan Wood, Freejazzcollective

Reintroducing Soar - the alias of Christian Aebi, serial DIY taper and one-man orchestra from Langenthal, a fog-shrouded town in the Swiss provinces. Krautophobia, ambient lo-fi agriculture, analogue soul balm and slowspeed psych gelati-blitz cardboard pop only gesture towards the sound world he coaxed from his broken Tascam four-track recorder, in attics, churches, junkyards and at the kitchen table.

The spark for Soar was likely time and space, somewhere in the autumn of 1994. Armed with a cable salad of Sixties guitar/bass, fairground drums, mould-speckled organs and toy instruments, Aebi coaxed five albums, an unverified run of 25 cassettes, and a handful of gigs. Mostly issued through Zurich label Corazoo, the records arrived in hand-pasted sleeves, rough-cut reproductions of his teddy bear-fixated artwork that carried the same imperfect immediacy as the music. With Rudi Steiner, performances in galleries, clubs and halls bent into live sound-image happenings - part installation, part film, part flea-market-instrument theatre - invariably leaving the house engineers bewildered.

At the time of his untimely death in 2021, Aebi remained a village secret, his music passed quietly between friends and local ears. Now, Swiss graphic designer and Ghost Riders compiler Ivan Liechti has pieced together a portrait from the afterglow, gathering tangled audio formats, paintings, illustrations, photographs and notebooks with his family, former label and peers. What emerges is a first glimpse of Soar's intimate cosmos - brushing against Füxa, Spectrum, Dump, Stereolab and King Crimson, but orbiting a dimension entirely his own.

The Armenian electronic underground has been quietly brewing something visceral. After years navigating the labyrinth of electronic production from his Yerevan studio, Dave N.A. strips away the excess to reveal six raw, uncompromising cuts that pulse with quiet intensity. Not the manufactured urgency of algorithmic dance floors, but the honest tension of someone who’s spent years refining his craft while the scene evolved around him.

Following his debut ‘Altura EP’ on no•id, where collaborations with freq444 showcased his ability to merge Armenia’s electronic scene with Brussels’ underground pulse, Dave N.A. returns with ‘Echoes EP’ after the label’s necessary creative hibernation. This isn’t about comebacks or grand statements. It’s about persistence. About the kind of restless creativity that emerges when you’ve been grinding in relative obscurity, releasing on labels like Uppers and Downers, Typeless, and Elicit Records, slowly building a sound that refuses easy categorization.

The EP opens hard and unexpectedly with “BLINK,” delivering a throat-cutting and all-consuming bassline. “ECHOES” builds around atmospheric sounds and percussive elements, driven by a straightforward yet effective drum sequence. “SHADO” ventures into darker and faster territory with sparse drum programming and heavy sub-bass emphasis. Both “RUSH” and “ORB” unleash torrents of unrelenting breaks, each percussive hit landing with surgical precision as sub-bass currents pull everything forward into hypnotic repetition. “HUNTER” closes the journey, stalking into frame with predatory low-end and razor-sharp hi-hats slicing through dense atmospheric fog.

The no•id ship continues to chart its course through Brussels’ underground, prioritizing artists who value craft over hype. With Dave N.A.’s return, the label reinforces its commitment to electronic music that functions on multiple levels: cerebral yet visceral, local yet universal.

The album’s title deftly gestures to the sheer vastness of astronomical dimensions, while simultaneously capturing the musical breadth within, where the eight planets are imagined as the eight notes of an octave. The work draws inspiration not only from earlier compositions —most notably Gustav Holst’s The Planets—but also from the rich astronomical and cultural contexts surrounding these celestial bodies. Here, the focus transcends direct citation of melodic motifs, instead embracing an intriguing conceptual approach on a meta level, unfolding in a series of vividly contrasting soundscapes. These contrasts shape a sweeping sonic journey, one that fully embraces the album format with both arms, inviting the listener to venture into realms both strange and wondrous, feeling the immensity of the interstellar space that lies between them. Contrast, after all, is the brushstroke that enriches our world.

Embarking on an auditory voyage, "Astral Guide" establishes the sonic framework that propels us into the boundless expanses of the cosmos. Its ethereal tones evoke the vastness of space, crafting a mood ripe for exploration within the realms of sci-fi. The subsequent tracks unfold like constellations, weaving a rich tapestry of sound that seamlessly marries cinematic soundscapes with pulsating, club-oriented rhythms. This album invites listeners to traverse its immersive landscapes, whether nestled in the comfort of home or dancing under the starlit sky, each note a guide through the transcendent experience of a nocturnal journey.

"Solar Flares" draws its inspiration from the awe-inspiring expanse of solar phenomena, capturing the majestic power of the sun as it reaches into the cosmos. This track resonates with the idea that energy, while vital, can also be a force of destruction when unleashed with overwhelming intensity. The composition beautifully mirrors the sun’s duality, where brilliance and devastation coexist, inviting listeners to reflect on the delicate balance between creation and annihilation. Through its rich textures and dynamic shifts, "Solar Flares" serves as both a homage to the celestial and a poignant reminder of nature's formidable power.

"Mercury – The Winged Messenger" embodies a meticulously crafted soundscape where artistry meets astronomy. The tempo of 173.6 BPM, derived from precise astronomical data, propels the composition into a vibrant realm that resonates with cosmic energy. Synthwave sound design intertwines seamlessly with the fluid rhythms of Drum’n’Bass, imbuing the piece with an uplifting dynamism that evokes the ethereal grace of Mercury itself. In this sonic exploration, listeners are invited to ascend on wings of sound, navigating the celestial tapestry of the universe with each invigorating beat.

"Venus, The Bringer of Peace" strikes a decidedly cozy note, presenting a poignant contrast to the more tempestuous themes often found in cosmic narratives. This composition evokes a nostalgic vision of an optimistic era, one in which humanity transcended borders and embraced the infinite possibilities of space exploration, where no destination felt too distant. The dense, languid atmosphere envelops the listener, creating a tangible sense of serenity that unfolds gradually, allowing for a meditative journey through sound. Each note serves as an invitation to linger in this tranquil embrace, reflecting on the harmonious potential of our collective aspirations and the beauty of connection in a vast universe.

The central theme of „Gaia, The Bringer of Life“ —originally not part of the planetary cycle— is the profound enabler of life on Earth. The arrangement delicately mirrors the slow, tentative unfolding of this potential, marked by an initially sparse orchestration that gradually builds in momentum. This progression crescendos, embodying the explosive dynamism of the Cambrian burst of life, ultimately culminating in a euphoric fanfare—a triumphant, celebratory flourish echoing life’s victorious emergence.

"Blue Moon" unfolds as a contemplative reverie on the tranquil clarity of a night sky, now seldom glimpsed in its natural purity, unclouded by the relentless haze of urban light. The listener is drawn into the vast embrace of the star-strewn firmament, a journey that sways between euphoric awe at nature’s sublime beauty and a profound melancholy for its fragile and imperiled state. Musically, this duality finds expression in the delicate interplay of modal mixtures, while an ever-shifting triplet groove, poised at the intersection of Outrun and melodic house, lends a pulse that is both nostalgic and forward-looking—echoing the beauty and transience of a world on the brink.

Rather than replicating the original composition of „Mars, The Bringer of War“, this interpretation seeks to evoke its profound, foreboding atmosphere. Cyberpunk emerges here as an ideal genre, channeling the dark, relentless march synonymous with Mars, the ancient god of war. The piece reverberates with intensity, as distorted vocalizations rise, embodying the anguish and visceral torment that shadow war’s violent crescendo. This auditory descent into conflict captures the relentless pulse of warfare, where sound itself becomes an embodiment of suffering and fury.

Majestically, "Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity" emerges on the celestial stage, sweeping away the somber tones with its radiant vigor. Drawing inspiration from the triumphant strains of the original, and borrowing a melodic motif in the refrain, the piece expresses joy and buoyancy through a shift to a major key and the lilting sway of a danceable 12/8 meter. Spirited and exuberant, it leaps boldly from major to minor and back again, playfully shifting time signatures to capture a mood of unbridled festivity and jollity.

Here, a more conciliatory concept is chosen than in the original inspiration. „Saturn“ aligns with the number six, being the sixth planet from the Sun and bearing the iconic hexagonal pattern at its northern pole. What, then, could be more fitting than to render this piece in a 6/8 time signature? The arrangement unfolds with a multifaceted richness, mirroring the countless stones and ice fragments that form the foundations of Saturn’s majestic rings.

„Uranus“ adopts the theme of a light-footed, dancing instrumentation, giving the impression of perpetual motion, never quite settling. This musical choice harmonizes with the planet’s own orbit, as it spins with breathtaking velocity, teetering and swaying, seemingly unable to attain rest or stability.

The chill and vastness of the cosmos find expression in „Neptune, The Mystic“. At its core, an electronic soundscape envelops a classical arrangement, its unreachability intensified by an ethereal, otherworldly choir. Hovering at the outermost boundaries of the solar system, where warmth is but a distant memory, the composition lingers in a slow, contemplative tempo, evoking a realm where space for speculation stretches wide and silence reigns supreme.

Though Pluto may have lost its planetary status, and its companion Charon never achieved one, this shift in classification subtly aligns with the cosmic scale invoked here—one that mirrors the musical tradition of an eight-note sequence. Fittingly, the album closes with „Kuiper Belt“, a composition emblematic of the turbulence and vitality of countless smaller

celestial bodies that, though diminutive, find their rightful place within the vast architecture of the solar system.

They say nature is the greatest composer, shaping the universe with a symphony of chaos and order, beauty and danger. It is this duality that fuels the artistic vision of Edictum—a producer who, armed with a doctorate in chemistry, delves as deeply into the mysteries of molecules as he does into the depths of sound. In the tension between the vastness of the cosmos and the microscopic processes that dictate life’s rhythm, Edictum creates sonic landscapes that dissolve the boundaries between science and art.

His music is a story of contrasts—a sonic tale where the raw forces of nature clash with the intricate structures of human culture. Opposites intertwine to form a harmonious whole: the primal rhythms of the earth meet the celestial melodies of the cosmos, the rigid laws of physics blend with the boundless freedom of art. Edictum explores these polarities with meticulous devotion, each composition an expedition into uncharted soundscapes—a quest to give voice to the unfathomable.

With over 20 years immersed in the realms of electronic music, Edictum has honed a keen sense for rhythm and movement. His driving beats compel both body and mind into a hypnotic flow. Yet beyond the pulse of dance lies a complex framework of conceptual thought. Today, his creative focus revolves around holistic album projects—self-contained worlds with overarching narratives that embrace contrast and complexity. Each track stands alone as a fragment of the whole, but together, they weave a cohesive tapestry, much like the chapters of a novel that guide the listener on an emotional and sonic journey.

Edictum’s distinctive musical signature has earned him international recognition. With over 150 releases, many on prestigious platforms like the iconic *NewRetroWave* label, and collaborations with artists such as Jan Johnston, Azumi Inoue, Powernerd, and Turbo Knight, he has solidified his place in the global electronic music scene. His latest work, *A Cosmic Scale*, marks his seventh vinyl album and is released under his own label, *Echoes of Expanse*. The label’s name is no coincidence—it captures the essence of his art: echoes of infinity, the vibrations of the universe distilled into a singular sonic experience that carries the listener ever further into the boundless expanse of sound and space.

This album represents a significant evolution in the musical journey of Nick Viola, transitioning from the powernoise and heavy industrial sounds of his previous project, Fractured Transmission, into a techno-framed landscape. Spanning seven tracks, including remixes, the album features recurring sounds sourced from machinery, field recordings, and personal travels. These elements create an uneasy atmosphere oscillating between slight discomfort and absolute dread, offering a dystopian sonic experience fitting for the times we unfortunately live in.

The opening track, ‘A Ghost in Your World,’ sets an intense tone with distorted atmospheres and ‘It’s Still Real’ follows with a relentless pulse and swirling mechanical sounds, seamlessly flowing into Kenny Campbell’s remix of ‘A Ghost In Your World’, providing a cathartic release for the A side.

‘Drop Out,’ guides listeners on a psychedelic journey into the B side of the record, while ‘Negative Nancy’ ramps up the energy with an aggressive industrial techno assault offering an antagonistic jab at the current trend within the genre. Substencia’s remix of “Drop Out” delves deeper into psychedelia, offering an immersive trance-like experience relieving the tension of “Negative Nancy”.

The digital-only bonus track, ‘Tensor,’ maintains the album’s heavy industrial techno feel of a well-oiled machine, ready to pummel any underground sound system.

About Artist:
Nick Viola is a versatile electronic music producer known for his distinctive blend of industrial and techno music, drawing inspiration from a wide range of influences spanning from the gritty sounds of powernoise to the pulsating energy of techno.

Born and raised in Los Angeles, Nick began his musical journey immersed in the industrial club scene, where he cut his teeth performing at the legendary Los Angeles industrial club Das Bunker. Here, he honed his craft and developed a deep appreciation for the raw, aggressive textures of industrial music. As the driving force behind the project Fractured Transmission, he made a name for himself with his uncompromising approach to power and rhythmic noise, earning recognition for his intense live performances and relentless sonic assaults.

However, Nick was always drawn to the rhythms and sounds of techno, and in a bold move, he embarked on a new chapter in his musical career, transitioning from the abrasive sounds and rhythms of powernoise to recontextualizing those sounds into a more techno landscape. With this album, “A Ghost In your World”, he showcases his evolution as an artist, seamlessly blending the industrial aesthetics of his past with the pulsating energy and frame of techno.

Spanning six tracks, “A Ghost In Your World” is a sonic journey through dark, dystopian landscapes and pulsating dance floors, where distorted atmospheres and mechanical rhythms collide to create a mesmerizing and immersive experience. From the haunting textures of “A Ghost in Your World” to the relentless energy of “Negative Nancy,” each track offers a unique glimpse into Nick’s sonic universe, inviting listeners to explore new depths with each listen.

Written + Produced by: Nick Viola

Mastered by: Tim Vitek

Artwork: Permian Designs

Design by: Elaine Stam

microCastle’s first offering of 2024 welcomes Adrian Roman back to the label for his second artist showcase. Hailing from Spain, Adrian Roman first rose to prominence in 2021 with a string of superlative releases which redefined his sound, resulting in an aesthetic that was both cutting edge and effortlessly cool. F, nmully formed within the creative confines of his Castello studio, Adrian’s first microCastle project, 2022’s‘ Disturbing the Perception’ succeeded in showcasing his inventive approach to composition, while remaining club-effective, and in turn earning play from Aera, Fideles and Jimi Jules, amongst others. Moving forward the next eighteen months have proved to be impactful for the young Spaniard, recording standout projects for AZZUR and Sum Over Histories, releases which continued to build on his creative acumen, while remaining in the playlists of underground tastemakers Ame and Dixon. With 2024 beginning with Adrian’s latest Sum Over Histories vehicle ‘Oratorical Ability’, the Spaniard now makes a welcome return to microCastle with a six-track showcase entitled ‘This Is What I Was For A Moment’.

From the opening monochromes of ‘Le Sabbat’ Adrian’s craftsmanship reveals itself across this slow-burning piece, one where grating growls, granular flares and panoramic arps ultimately set the pace for the groove-centric ‘Customized Reality’. It’s here where Adrian puts a greater focus on the dancefloor, marrying hopeful vocal phrasing and silky chord stabs for a rejuvenating experience, while a drum-driven drop ultimately charts the course for a finale of deconstructed sonics and post-rave bliss. The haywire electricity of ‘Faces of Belmez’ finds the Spaniard once again flexing his creative muscles, as corrugated bleeps and cataclysmic rhythms provide a vast sense of space, creating the ultimate backdrop for distorted synths to propel choppy rhythms into dark underground passages, and perhaps onto some of the world’s most adventurous dancefloors.

The collection’s midway point is marked by the hypno-architecture of ‘Mind Design’. Trickling reverberations and long sighs of tonal tension wade through its pulsating framework, with frayed effects and thumping rhythms submerged beneath a buzzing panoramic glow. Played by Ame and sitting as one of the project's most enigmatic tracks is ‘TAGDI’ (They Are Gonna Do It). Tinted with contemplative synths and guttural vocals, Adrian’s unique emotionality peaks here, as he crafts a low-slung, slow-building dystopian romance, all while weaving in cerebral manipulations for an unforgettable ride. The mist breaks instantly on the collection’s final piece, as your thrusted into the muscular grooves of ‘Fear Track’. Horrifying vocal stabs strike, leaving the gauzy purple skies of ‘TAGDI’ behind for a more robust romp, one where anabolic bassline, retro-arps and off kilter percussion bring the release to a feverish peak. A fitting conclusion to a diverse collection of music, one where Adrian creates a journey that speaks to the complexities of life against an immersive and challenging backdrop.

Artwork: Maurcio Seidel

MTY-3.14 “π”, released on March 14, 2026, is the fifth and final chapter of a journey begun fifteen years ago.



This standard edition presents the final form of Polar Inertia across three 12" vinyl records, featuring 11 tracks. Nothing added, nothing removed—only the music, unfolding in full.



Images dissolve, words fall away. What remains are faint echoes, like footprints slowly erased in fresh snow.



This final opus does not close the path. It fades into it. π is not an ending, but a state: the moment where movement continues, even as the world turns silent.



A last step.
A final trace.
Still moving, beneath the cold.



POLAR INERTIA



We are no one because we want to be no one,
And to be no one we have to be everywhere and nowhere- Polar Inertia examines the enigmatic and blurry realms, embracing the art of obscured vision.


Encountering the collective Polar Inertia is much like being absorbed by fog and captivated by its ever-shifting forms and densities, with things being as indistinguishable as in a whiteout.



Formed in 2010 by a group of artists, Polar Inertia transcends visibility, delving into structures that lie beyond the public gaze. Layers upon layers intertwine within the fabric of Polar Inertia, extending beyond their profound electronic compositions and live performances. It manifests as a conceptual universe, where sound, monochrome aesthetics, and elusive narratives converge, much like trying to grasp the intangible fog. The entity that is Polar Inertia is involved in installations, print- and video work and texts created for different contexts and live in different spheres such as Palais de Tokyo in Paris or the Lyon Biennale of Contemporary Art. Still, clubs and festivals are perfect spaces to experience these nebulous soundworlds and immerse in them. Fittingly, some of Polar Inertia’s appearances include the colossal halls of Berghain and Bassiani and at experimental festivals like Mutek Montreal and Atonal Berlin, that like to break with the classic club conventions.



Polar Inertia's sonic landscape unfolds with wafting textures accompanied by resonating beats and drones, reverberating through empty spaces, merging with the vast expanse of nothingness. Their sound exists at the crossroads of ambient, experimental, and deep techno, interwoven with vocal narratives. Since their inaugural release “Indirect Light“ on Dement3d Records in 2011, they remain a stronghold of relevance and captivation in the electronic domain.



Mastered by sixbitdeep, with artistic direction by Diplomatie Studio.

Clear Purple Marble Vinyl

Stone Machine Electric return with ‘FACES’, a deep and immersive exploration of their signature Doom Jazz sound, where slow burning grooves, atmospheric distortion and meditative heaviness merge into a single hypnotic flow.

The Texas trio expand the boundaries of doom, stoner and psychedelic rock with six expansive tracks shaped by textured guitars, fluid basslines and ritualistic drumming, creating a sense of weight and space that pulls the listener into a raw and introspective dimension.

‘FACES’ is an album built on tension and release, repetition and movement, crafted for those who seek heavy music that pushes beyond the traditional framework and into a more spiritual and experimental territory.

LP pressed onto Clear Purple Marble vinyl.

Essential for fans of Monolord, YOB, Shrinebuilder, Om and early Earth.

‘Workaround’ is the lucidly playful and ambitious solo debut album by rhythm-obsessive musician and DJ, Beatrice Dillon for PAN. It combines her love of UK club music’s syncopated suss and Afro-Caribbean influences with a gamely experimental approach to modern composition and stylistic fusion, using inventive sampling and luminous mixing techniques adapted from modern pop to express fresh ideas about groove-driven music and perpetuate its form with timeless, future-proofed clarity. Recorded over 2017-19 between studios in London, Berlin and New York, ‘Workaround’ renders a hypnotic series of polymetric permutations at a fixed 150bpm tempo.

Mixing meticulous FM synthesis and harmonics with crisply edited acoustic samples from a wide range of guests including UK Bhangra pioneer Kuljit Bhamra (tabla); Pharoah Sanders Band’s Jonny Lam (pedal steel guitar); techno innovators Laurel Halo (synth/vocal) and Batu (samples); Senegalese Griot Kadialy Kouyaté (Kora), Hemlock’s Untold and new music specialist Lucy Railton (cello); amongst others, Dillon deftly absorbs their distinct instrumental colours and melody into 14 bright and spacious computerised frameworks that suggest immersive, nuanced options for dancers, DJs and domestic play. ‘Workaround’ evolves Dillon’s notions in a coolly unfolding manner that speaks directly to the album’s literary and visual inspirations, ranging from James P. Carse’s book ‘Finite And Infinite Games’ to the abstract drawings of Tomma Abts or Jorinde Voigt as well as painter Bridget Riley’s essays on grids and colour. Operating inside this rooted but mutable theoretical wireframe, Dillon’s ideas come to life as interrelated, efficient patterns in a self-sufficient system.

With a naturally fractal-not-fractional logic, Dillon’s rhythms unfold between unresolved 5/4 tresillo patterns, complex tabla strokes and spark-jumping tics in a fluid, tactile dance of dynamic contrasts between strong/light, sudden/restrained, and bound/free made in reference to the notational instructions of choreographer Rudolf Laban. Working in and around the beat and philosophy, the album’s freehand physics contract and expand between the lissom rolls of Bhamra’s tabla in the first, to a harmonious balance of hard drum angles and swooping FM synth cadence featuring additional synth and vocal from Laurel Halo in ‘Workaround Two’, while the extruded strings of Lucy Railton create a sublime tension at the album’s palatecleansing denouement, triggering a scintillating run of technoid pieces that riff on the kind of swung physics found in Artwork’s seminal ‘Basic G’, or Rian Treanor’s disruptive flux with a singularly tight yet loose motion and infectious joy. Crucially, the album sees Dillon focus on dub music’s pliable emptiness, rather than the moody dematerialisation of reverb and echo. The substance of her music is rematerialised in supple, concise emotional curves
and soberly freed to enact its ideas in balletic plies, rugged parries and sweeping, capoeira-like floor action. Applying deeply canny insight drawn from her years of practice as sound designer, musician and hugely knowledgable/intuitive DJ, ‘Workaround’ can be heard as Dillon’s ingenious solution or key to unlocking to perceptions of stiffness, darkness or grid-locked rigidity in electronic music. And as such it speaks to an ideal of rhythm-based and experimental music ranging from the hypnotic senegalese mbalax of Mark Ernestus’ Ndagga Rhythm Force, through SND and, more currently, the hard drum torque of DJ Plead; to adroitly exert the sensation of weightlessness and freedom in the dance and personal headspace.

Fides Records continues its 10-year anniversary with the second chapter X2 following the monumental 10Y OF FIDES: Mixed by Z.I.P.P.O. True to the label’s decade-long pursuit of underground sound and vision, this new instalment deepens the narrative with six striking contributions that embody the raw, hypnotic, and modular essence of the Fides universe.

The A-side opens with Setaoc Mass’s “Quanta” a stripped down, mental techno piece driven by tension and precision. Seddig follows with “Seismic” an intense, driving composition marked by rugged modular energy and deep rhythmic focus, while Casual Treatment’s “Hoover” injects elasticity and bounce through detailed sound design rooted in French minimalism.

Flipping to Side B, Holden Federico’s “Tactics” timeless track based on a 909 framework and a melodic core that balances power and elegance. Augusto Taito’s “No Eye Contact” unfolds as an immersive, restrained groove while Asymptote’s “Encounters” closes the record with cinematic precision, a contemplative yet physical finale true to the Fides aesthetic.

Furthering the passionate exploration of cinema that has guided her two previous LPs - 2017’s ‘Fassbinder Wunderkammer’ and 2020’s ‘I Should Have Been a Gardener’ - the Milanese guitarist/composer, Alessandra Novaga, returns to Die Schachtel with ‘The Artistic Image Is Always a Miracle’, two sides off shimmering, tense compositions – culminating as one of her most creatively ambitious and conceptually rich outings to date – freely inspired by the life and work of the Russian director Andrej Tarkovsky and the music of Johann Sebastian Bach.

Classically trained at the Musik Akademie in Basel, Switzerland, over the last decade Alessandra Novaga has emerged as one of the leading figures within northern Italy’s thriving new, experimental, and improvised music scene, rendering striking solo efforts, in addition to collaborations with Loren Connors, Stefano Pilia, Elliott Sharp, Nicola Ratti, Paula Matthusen, Sandro Mussida, Kid Millions, Travis Just, Francesco Gagliardi, and others. Remarkably ambitious and forward thinking, her approach to the guitar embarks upon a relentless deconstruction and rethinking of her instrument’s unique properties through distinct applications of structure, resonance, space, and tone, creating in a deeply personal and emotive music, seeking narrative and meaning within the abstractions of sound.

In 2017, with the LP, ‘Fassbinder Wunderkammer’, issued by Setola Di Maiale, Novaga embarked upon the exploration of her love of film. Having begun with Rainer Werner Fassbinder, this was followed in 2020 by Die Schachtel’s release of ‘I Should Have Been a Gardener’, a deeply intimate mediation on the life and work of Derek Jarman. Rather than focusing on a fixed point of inspiration or a single film to work from, these pieces achieve a form of abstract portraiture, distilling elements drawn from these filmmaker’s life and work into ambient networks of texture and tonality. ‘The Artistic Image Is Always a Miracle”’ freely inspired by the Russian director Andrej Tarkovsky and the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, finds Novaga radically expanding her sonic palette within this approach.

The seeds of ‘The Artistic Image Is Always a Miracle’ can be traced to a conversation that Novaga had with Alan Licht (contained in the highly regarded Common Tones: Selected interviews with artists and musicians 1995–2020, Blank Forms, 2021), relating to the connections between music and cinema, which led her to consider Andrej Tarkovsky’s use of Bach's music within a symbiotic framework: how the music illuminates the imagism of the films, and the film illuminates new dimensions of the music. Slowly developing over the subsequent years, the resulting album comprises six individual works, some of which draw directly upon pieces of Bach’s music that Tarkovsky used in his films – specifically 'Erbarme dich, Mein Gott', 'Das alte Jahr vergangen ist', and 'Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ' - while others draw upon the sensibilities and moods evoked in the imagination by the director’s films.

As a point of departure and illumination into the process and spirit that underscored the creation of the album, Novaga points toward a passage in Tarkovsky’s "Sculpting in Time”:

“Art is born and takes hold wherever there is a timeless and insatiable longing for the spiritual, for the ideal: that longing which draws people to art. Modern art has taken a wrong turn in abandoning the search for the meaning of existence in order to affirm the value of the individual for its own sake. What purports to be art begins to look like an eccentric occupation for suspect characters who maintain that any personalized action is of intrinsic value simply as a display of self-will. But in artistic creation the personality does not assert itself, it serves another, higher and communal idea.”

‘The Artistic Image Is Always a Miracle’ can be understood as a realisation of the collectivism of which Tarkovsky speaks, in the service of something far beyond the expression of self. Encountering Novaga moving into fairly uncharted waters, three of the album’s pieces incorporate the human voice we encounter the voices of others: that of the poet Arsenij Tarkovsky, the director’s father; a singer from Bach’s ‘Erbarme dich, Mein Gott’, capturing a broadcast in an underground parking lot, and Novaga’s own, rendering the melody from Bach’s “Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ”. Roughly alternating between solo excursions on guitar and bristling electroacoustic pieces, over the course of the album’s two sides Novaga weaves one of her most abstract and ambitious bodies of recordings to date, shifting between the complex tonal mediations generated by the six strings of her instrument, and phycological densities activated by the expanded pallet of sonority made possible by the tactics and approaches of musique concrète.

An immersive, deeply engaging meeting of beauty and melancholy within a labyrinth of voices and ideas, ‘The Artistic Image Is Always a Miracle’ transfigures the life and work of Andrej Tarkovski – one of the greatest auteurs in the history of cinema – into a singular, experimental statement of collective truth. Belonging to recent, ambitious stream of contemporary new music releases on Die Schachtel that’s already included Novaga’s ‘I Should Have Been a Gardener’, Stefano Pilia’s ‘Spiralis Aurea’, Jim O'Rourke & Giovanni Di Domenico’ ‘Immanent In Nervous Activity’, Claudio Rocchetti’s ‘Labirinto Verticale’, and Damāvand’s ‘As Long As You Come To My Garden’, among others, ‘The Artistic Image Is Always a Miracle’ is available on as a limited edition of 300 dark turquoise vinyl LPs released on June 21, 2024. The LP, designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, comes with an 8-pages insert illuminated by Alessandra’s text as well as the lovely and intense photographs of Matilde Piazzi.

When Alanis Morissette took direct aim at an ex who wronged her on the eviscerating “You Oughta Know” in 1995, everything about the Top 10 song communicated it wasn’t the usual narrative about love gone south. Or the typical wounded singer wallowing in self pity. Morissette, and both the lead single from and her entire American major-label debut — the profoundly personal Jagged Little Pill — represented a sea change. They kickstarted a movement, one whose impact continues to echo throughout the mainstream nearly three decades later.

Ranked the 69th Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, included on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s list of 200 Definitive Albums, and featured in several books about essential albums, Jagged Little Pill remains more than a blockbuster that has sold more than 17 million copies in the U.S. and 33 million units worldwide. It’s a statement, an attitude, a soundtrack for anyone seeking inspiration, an outlet, or permission to be themselves.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Jagged Little Pill presents the landmark effort in audiophile-grade sound for the first time. A key part of the record’s appeal and accessibility — Glen Ballard’s smooth production, touches that help Morissette’s exposed-nerve fare seem more accessible and melodic — comes through on this special 30th anniversary edition with an openness, presence, and dynamic explosiveness that make the vocalist’s songs that much more real and visceral.

The singer’s distinctive mezzo-soprano deliveries — the octave-rippling highs, dark-hued lows, dramatic crescendos, belted choruses, wispy reflections, occasional yodels — resonate with full-range ardor and depth. As crucial as anything on the record, Morissette’s confessional words take center stage like never before. Ditto the instrumentation and atmospherics that form the magnetic backgrounds of the songs. Key in on the contributions from Red Hot Chili Peppers Dave Navarro and Flea on “You Oughta Know” to Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' co-founder Benmont Tench’s organ playing on six tracks.

The deluxe packaging of Mobile Fidelity’s Jagged Little Pill UD1S set underscores the work’s distinguished status. Housed in a slipcase, the LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Benefitting from an ultra-low noise floor, superior groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces, this UD1S reissue is for listeners who prize sound quality and desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the now-iconic cover art that juxtaposes two portraits of the then-21-year-old singer-songwriter and features typewriter font.

That script — which suggests a raw, blood-on-the-floor document created without modern aids like spell check or language correction — hints at the heightened level of unvarnished intimacy, honesty, and catharsis Morissette offers throughout Jagged Little Pill. Named after a phrase uttered on the astute “You Learn,” the album explores the frank emotions, inherent contradictions, and wishful desires people feel everyday but are often too afraid to express. Morissette displays no such fear or shyness.

Akin to a woman reading from a diary, Morissette leaves nothing to the imagination as she skewers hypocrisy during the poignant “Forgiven,” seeks recompense on the vengeful “You Oughta Know,” and spills her guts on the soul-purging “All I Really Want.” For all the anger and bile ascribed to the singer and record, Jagged Little Pill is incredibly healthy and upbeat. Morissette uses the catchy pop-rock frameworks and moody ambience to suss out situations, to learn, to give hope. There’s the clever yearning of “Hand in My Pocket”; wry contrarianism of “Ironic”; kind-heartedness of “Hand over Feet”; the live-and-let-live spirit of “You Learn” – all positive and amiable.

Throughout Jagged Little Pill, the ever-approachable Morissette connects with listeners who recognize themselves in her — and has an intelligent conversation with anyone who wants to participate. It seemed almost everyone did. In addition to the mammoth sales that make the effort the 17th-best-selling album in American history, Jagged Little Pill collected four Grammy Awards, two American Music Awards, three Billboard Music Awards, and eight Juno Awards. In 2018, the record became the basis for a musical that netted 15 Tony nominations on Broadway.

Ironic? Anything but. Jagged Little Pill transcends generations, gender, and trends. As Morissette sings on the opening “All I Really Want,”, the album represents “deliverance” — “a place to find common ground.”

The road is a wrinkled timeline. Uncanny flatness conceals unfolding textures, transparent layers and open tabs. The truck cuts the landscape, tracing the road with a line of mad logic that composites time, space, thought. On “Le Camion de Marguerite Duras,” French duo Jean-Marie Mercimek have returned with a road movie for the blind. Composed and recorded by Marion Molle and Ronan Riou over six years across France and Belgium, this unlikely distillation of microtonal MIDI composition, French B.O., and post-punk chansons brazenly expands the duos’ penchant for lowkey narrative spectacle.

Across “Le Camion,” sounds form a theatrical screen. Our ears are the curtains drawn wide and listening with a look that pans across the shot. No title cards, they cut straight to action. The truck is a camera, zooming and framing the tracks as scenes. Songwriting and sound design blur in a tangle of delicate economy. The balance of mutant music-boxes and dewy miniatures recalls otherworldly hits from Gareth Williams’ Flaming Tunes, Residents, and catchier corners of the Lovely Music catalog. Strange, sure, but this flick is never quite a cartoon. Molle and Riou’s vocals dilate into a cast of very human characters. Voices sing borrowed texts like untrained actors (playing themselves, in fact) stepping into the frame once before disappearing forever. And when they’re gone, you miss them. But here in the truck, it all comes back again under the cyclic spell of repose in perpetual motion. Turn up the radio and appuyez sur le champignon. - Turner Williams Jr.

Big'n was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018,Big'n recorded and releaseda new EP, Knife of Sin,via Computer Students. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. Big'n is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon - their first in 28 years - released via Computer Student. It"sall still here as presentand disciplined as ever - BrianE's powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fred's metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Todd's clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akins' yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, Big'n were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soons' title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions - and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

1/4" / 15 IPS / Dolby A Analogue Copy to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Carlos Santana and Company Return to a Dynamic Blend of R&B, Latin, Funk, and Rock: Amigos Aims for the Hips, Spreads Joy, and Includes “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile)” Amigos has been beloved for decades by both long-time and recent Santana admirers, with multiple generations of fans drawn in by the record’s contagious blend of R&B, Latin, rock, and funk elements. As well as its immense accessibility. Coming off a series of albums that heavily leaned into jazz fusion, the band returns to the more dynamic and concise approaches of its earlier works without losing the sense of adventurousness, craftsmanship, and virtuosity that turned it into a juggernaut embraced by both the mainstream and experimentally minded communities.

Mastered at Mobile Fidelity’s in-house studio in California, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM LP of Amigos presents the 1976 album in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic release. Part of the reissue label’s Santana series, this collectible version features quiet surfaces and black backgrounds that help reveal the intricate details, distinguished tones, and cohesive interplay that cause Santana’s music to take flight.

The enhanced aural perspectives extend not only to Carlos Santana’s intoxicating fills and solos, but to the rich tapestry of the rhythmic, melodic, and vocal elements that help Amigos feel as fresh today as it did several decades ago. This LP shines a beaming light on the surrounding musicians that simultaneously feed off and inspire their bandleader. The solidity and depth of the bass lines; the wash of the organ; the scope and carry of the vocals; the grip and weight of the low-end frequencies; and, possibly the most enticing traits, the textures of the acoustic guitars, numerous percussive devices, and then-modern synthesizers: all come across with tremendous presence and energy.

Entirely appropriate for a set that kicks from the start, with the opening “Dance Sister Dance (Baila Mi Hermana)” true to the song title’s combination directive-invitation meaning. Tropical, soulful, upbeat, and liberating, it beckons hips to shake and delicious libations to pour. Clinking cowbells, spirited background vocals, hand-tapped congas, and Carlos Santana’s six-string magma pour forth with abundance. The song sets the mood and expectations for a record that contains not an ounce of filler, and which inspires and spreads joy at practically every turn.

On the gold-certified Amigos, the ensemble never seems to run short of zest or happiness. Key in on the Latin bite and searing guitar architecture of “Take Me With You,” an instrumental that shifts tempo at its midpoint and sparkles with a samba-like outro that aims to put everyone in earshot on the dance floor. Surrender to the slow-burn of “Tell Me You Are Tired,” sent up with Greg Walker’s sympathetic vocals and spun around with whirling funk accents. Marvel at the Spanish guitar introduction, Mexican folk foundation, group vocals, and extroverted grooves of the forward-propulsive “Gitano,” with lead singing by conga/bongo expert Armando Peraza.

Having reached the Top 10 in the United States and spawned the hit “Let It Shine,” Amigos marked the final stint for bassist David Brown, the last of the group’s famed Woodstock lineup to depart. His contributions feel especially spirited throughout the album, compass readings that the group uses to chart their course. Just listen to how his passages pop on “Let Me” and frame the can’t-get-it-out-of-your-head “what you need is what you want” refrain. And while Carlos Santana remains the centerpiece of the brilliant and meditative “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile),” Brown serves as a trustworthy anchor and friendly advocate.

Back in 2018, Argentinian producer Fernando Pulichino released ‘Search of Indigo’ on Leng, a shuffling slab of colourful, Balearic-adjacent dub disco featuring his own distinctive lead vocals and backing vocals from Luca Gasparini. Six years on, the track returns renewed and refreshed thanks to a string of new floor-friendly reworks by LTJ Xperience and Pulichino himself. Fernando kicks off the EP with his ‘AM Mix’, an inspired re-invention that re-frames the song as a hard-wired, acid-fired chugger – all restless, razor-sharp TB-303 lines, low-slung bass guitar and sparkling piano riffs. On the digital version of the EP Pulichino has also offered up his ‘PM Mix’, a deliciously Balearic disco dub rich in colourful synth sounds, elastic bass, flanged guitars and sun-bright piano licks. It's LTJ Xperience’s trio of remixes that lie at the heart of the EP though. The Italian producer, real name Luca Trevisi, initially made his name as a downtempo and nu-jazz producer before perfecting a trademark style of chugging, slow-motion hedonism that draws influence from both deep house and nu-disco. His main Remix foregrounds many of these trademark elements, in the process delivering a bongo-rich chugger laden with delayheavy bass guitar sounds, head-nodding drums, heady guitar loops and echoing vocal snippets. On the Dirty Mix, Trevisi reaches for tight, short TB-303 ‘acid’ loops, a more sparse and heavy rhythm track offering a more heads-down, dubbed-out affair that should delight those who love late night and early morning hypnotism with flashes of wide-eyed sonic bliss. Then, to round things off, Trevisi delivers a heady, atmospheric and spaced-out Dub full of jazz guitar licks, bubbling electronics, vocal snippets and effects-laden bass. It’s a winning combination.

Roberto Cacciapaglia is an Italian composer and pianist who started out in the fertile Milan avant-garde scene of the 1970s, which included Franco Battiato, Giusto Pio, Lino Capra Vaccina, Francesco Messina, among others. After studying at the conservatory, he worked at RAI's Studio of Musical Phonology – an electronic music laboratory similar to NDR/WDR in Germany, GRM/IRCAM in France or BBC Radiophonic Workshop.

Originally released in 1979, Sei Note In Logica (Six Notes In Logic) is Cacciapaglia's second album. While his debut, Sonanze, offers a series of ambient mini-soundtracks, Sei Note presents a singular, sinuous piece. The composition is based on a finite set of musical notes, yet this limitation is the point of departure for a grand tour of possible combinations and enthralling timbres (marimbas, strings, reeds and human voice).

Like Steve Reich's Music For 18 Musicians, the joyous experiment of Sei Note is grounded in constant variation. Often doubled by multiple instruments, non-repeating patterns are exquisitely layered, while electro-acoustic signals transform and further refract through visceral effects. Within this conceptual framework, Cacciapaglia does not so much juxtapose rigid dichotomies – acoustic vs. electronic, melodic vs. dissonant, simple vs. complex – as fuse them into an expansive whole.

What started as an inspired study in Minimalism becomes a bold feat of 20th century music. Sei Note In Logica is deeply sincere and, at the same time, quite playful. With one foot firmly planted in the past and the other steeped in technology, Cacciapaglia's influence can be heard in the work of Jim O'Rourke, Fennesz and Ben Vida.

BigʼN was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018, BigʼN recorded and released a new EP, Knife of Sin, via Computer Students™. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. BigʼN is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon — their first in 28 years — released via Computer Student. It's all still here as present and disciplined as ever — Brianʼs powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fredʼs metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Toddʼs clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akinsʼ yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, BigʼN were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soonʼs title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions — and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

BigʼN was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018, BigʼN recorded and released a new EP, Knife of Sin, via Computer Students™. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. BigʼN is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon — their first in 28 years — released via Computer Student. It's all still here as present and disciplined as ever — Brianʼs powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fredʼs metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Toddʼs clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akinsʼ yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, BigʼN were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soonʼs title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions — and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Debut standalone VHF album by the Elkhorn duo of Drew Gardner and Jesse Sheppard, a tight set of six studio recordings in a variety of moods and featuring a lot of new sound textures. Elkhorn’s prolific stream of releases since 2016 has highlighted their mastery of sprawling long-form, acoustic-driven hypno-jams, with an emphasis on live performance (including on their collaboration with Pelt’s Mike Gangloff on the Shackamaxon Concert album). The Red Valley is a more layered and composed-sounding set, with the duo overdubbing extensively on top of their own dual guitars. Leading off the LP, “Crystal Hummingbird” features one of their signature minor-modal vamps, with layers of fuzz bass, zither, and frame drum providing weight and psychedelic density. “Gray Salt Trail” continues the vibe, with thick fuzz vibraphone supplementing the cinematic palate, leading into the spare side-closer “Black Wind Of Kayenta,” where Sheppard plays electric 12-string and Gardner solos on acoustic guitar. Side two starts with “Road to Chaco Canyon,” a brooding duet that builds momentum with Gardner’s insistent frame drum cadence, dropping down into the quiet string pool of “Inside Spider Rock” (featuring Fern Knight’s Jesse Sparhawk on gloriously swirling lever harp) and the graceful finale “Jackrabbit Hops.”

Record producer, composer, singer, and pioneer of the dub music genre Lee Scratch Perry passed away in August 2021. His influence over popular music since the 1970s is hugely significant, with artists including Bob Marley & The Wailers, The Clash, Beastie Boys, Max Romeo, Junior Murvin and The Orb all enriched by Perry’s legendary touch, innovative studio techniques and production style.

Conceived, written and recorded during the COVID pandemic, ‘King Perry’ was produced by Daniel Boyle, and features guest performances from Greentea Peng, Shaun Ryder, Tricky, Marta, Rose Waite and Fifi Rong. Two tracks were also co-produced with Tricky, who releases Perry’s last recorded performances on his False Idols label.

Over a career spanning six decades, Lee Scratch Perry left the music world with a huge catalogue of albums, productions and appearances that cannot be underestimated. Releases for Island Records, Trojan, Adrian Sherwood’s On-U Sound, Mad Professor’s Ariwa...the list goes on. It was in 2014 that Perry teamed up with UK producer Daniel Boyle, and from this collaboration came the Grammy nominated album ‘Back At The Controls’ and was followed up five years later with the ‘Black Album’.

The ‘King Perry’ album was born out of a request from Perry that he “wanted to do something new, something different but still with a dub framework”. And so, armed with influences as diverse as synthwave, big beat, drum & bass and electronica, Boyle and Perry traded ideas, beats and lyrics in a project that continued to grow as its various guest performers were added, resulting in a kaleidoscopic and engaging melting pot of rhythms, melodies, and voices. Poignantly, closing track ‘Goodbye’ was Perry’s last ever recorded vocal performance.

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

Scriabin · Scarlatti creates a dreamlike meditation in which the boundaries between pieces, eras and states of mind fade away. Asal’s full performance of the Sonata is framed by a selection of Scriabin’s etudes and preludes, six sonatas by Scarlatti and two improvisatory Transitions by the pianist himself. Julius Asal chose two different Steinways for the recording, one for its sumptuous dark sonorities, the other for its clear, crisp sound. “These miniatures by Scriabin and Scarlatti are like mythical creatures from another dimension, with their own character, their own life, their own past, present and future.” Everything’s possible in a dream”, says the 27-year-old artist, who has a rare talent for innovative programme curation. “Even seemingly different materials from different times and with different densities can merge and create a new substance that’s never existed before.

We Release JAZZ is very happy to announce an exciting new body of work by Joseph Deenmamode aka Mo Kolours. The singular musical spirit’s new 21-track album Original Flow is available as a double LP housed in a heavy 350gsm sleeve with original artwork by Mo Kolours himself and the classic WRJ obi strip, as well as in digipack CD and digital formats.

A catalog of critically acclaimed records, including his self-titled debut (2014), ‘Texture Like Like Sun’ (2015), 2018 album ‘Inner Symbols’ and three companion EPs, established Deenmamode as a prodigious musician and vocalist. Pitchfork extolled his “hypnotic, tribal-infused dance grooves”, DJ Mag appreciated the “colourful celebration of soundsystem culture”, and Resident Advisor advocated that “no one sounds quite like Mo Kolours”. Musical analogies were drawn by The Guardian as “The best album Curtis Mayfield never made with A Tribe Called Quest and Lee Perry” and Mojo as “like Marvin Gaye produced by J Dilla”.

Five years ago, Deenmamode moved to the Japanese countryside. Far away from familiarity, he contemplated his place and further questioned his identity. “I had none of my ‘own’ people around. I had time to really find what makes me tick musically. Japan has helped me go back to those subconscious leanings, really go deep, and reflect the aspects that make up my story”.

The tracks on ‘Original Flow’ have been constructed from sessions, improvisations and soundbites captured around the world during this time; collecting contributions from musicians including Deenamode’s brothers Reginald Omas Mamode and Jeen Bassa plus Andrew Ashong, Charles Bullen, Dwaye Kilvington, Eddie Hick, Stefan Asanovic, Myele Manzanza, Ross Hughes, and Tom Dreissler. Deenamode says “I’m proud of this album’s creative process. Coming from a tradition of scouring through hours of records, I wanted to create my own samples, to find that perfect loop that no other producer could put their hands on. I decided to invite a group of friends and acquaintances, who also happen to be incredible musicians, to a studio in Crystal Palace to improvise based on some loose ideas I had. We spent all day, and recorded everything”.

‘Original Flow’ is an album of UK street-soul nouveau, future indigenous jazz fusion, Rasta Segga, Nyahbinghi jazz, Malagasy Hebrew hip hop. While retaining a spirit of exploration and improvisation, it sees Deenmamode grow and flex beyond beat tape brevity, expanding composition and stretching his musical muscle to play live with other musicians. Themes of empowerment, overcoming adversity, and mental liberation coexist with notes from ancient history, futurism, and science, as well as musings on family and togetherness.

‘Magik Momentum’ springs from a discussion that features at the start of the song, an inspiring mentor answering a question from Deenmamode about improvisation and what role it plays in life when planning and manifesting the future. ‘Rockets to Mars’ questions the lack of care for the billions of people with nothing, while governments plan to explore space. “This sparked a comparison in my mind to a Sonny Okuson song that I would reference when performing. Okuson’s song talked of the lack of resources in many communities in the world, while governments go to the moon”.

He says the music behind ‘The News These Days’ is “possibly my favourite on the album”. Looped like he would a late sixty jazz-fusion sample, there was nothing added and the track was complete within a matter of minutes. “It was the first and best moment from the entire Crystal Palace session”, he adds. The album’s contrasting title track with minimal instrumentation played solo by Deenamode. While frustratingly searching for gems in past recordings, he thought in a burst of ego, “I don’t need no-one else to make a dope beat!” picked up his ravanne, (the traditional frame drum of his fathers home-land of Mauritius), pressed record, and started to play. He says, “In my thoughts were the rhythms of the Nubians in Upper-Egypt and Sudan, the swing of the huge drums played by Mauritanian women, of-course the Sega beat of Mauritius, and the ever inspiring beat of James Yancey”.

Driven by UK broken beat, Cuban congas, Nigerian and Mauritian inflections, ‘Love Vibration’ follows the concept that all emotions carry a vibratory frequency and pays homage to the frequency of creation and the power of love. The two part ‘Tatamaka’ tells of the history of Deenmamode’s ancestors, the maroons of Mauritius. “We are people who managed to run from our oppressors and find refuge in a corner of the island called ‘Le Morne’ where they could not reach us. One bloody day they came in numbers to re-capture, to revenge. Many of us chose to jump to our deaths, rather than be taken back into subjugation. The poem by Creole Richard Sedley Assonne says; “there were hundreds of them, but my people, the maroons chose the kiss of death over the chains of slavery”. Tatamaka was the name of a famed maroon leader who was murdered for claiming his, and our people’s freedom. The song is the imagined journey of escape and freedom by an ancestor of the maroons of Le Morne”.

Born in the west midlands and raised on the traditional sega music of his father’s Indian Ocean homeland of Mauritius alongside records by the likes of Jimi Hendrix, Santana and Michael Jackson; his influences expanded with late 90s jungle and drum and bass nights in Bristol, experiments at art college in Camberwell, and the rich culture of Peckham, “at the time we called it the Afro Quarters of London” says Deenmamode, adding hip hop, dub, soul and soundsystem styles to his individual sound.

He explains, “I love drum music, from hand-drums to 808s. I love music from the ancient past, heritage music, indigenous music, traditional music passed down from the beginning of time. Music from the body, hand claps, grunts and foot stomps. Music with audible depth, busy, bustling, highly charged. Music from the soul, the music from beyond. I love music from the islands and the mountains. The music of the streets, hustle music, alleyway beats. Club music”.

He describes the creative process as thinking in images. “The visual world and the world of sound seem to intermingle in my thought process. When I play the drum with my eyes closed, a world of imagery dances and moves with beat. Improvised drumming feels like I am listening to what I want to hear, rather than trying to play what I want to hear. Following the rhythm and finding new pathways to walk within the patterns is what I experience. In this way I often feel I am just a listener, instead of the player”.
Original Flow is pressed on biovinyl, a sustainable alternative to traditional vinyl. Biovinyl replaces petroleum in S-PVC by recycling used cooking oil or industrial waste gases, resulting in 100% CO2 savings in bio-based S-PVC production. Furthermore, it is 100% recyclable and reusable, embracing the circular economy ideology.

Of the countless accolades and analyses that surround Blue, no point is more significant than the fact that the 1971 Joni Mitchell album continues to become more popular, revered, referenced, and relevant with each passing day. Such vitality is not only extremely singular; it is the ultimate measure of great art and, in the context of Blue, indisputable proof of the record's accessibility, integrity, and timelessness. If the most brilliant and everlasting music seeks to find truths shared by all of humanity, Blue can be said to be universal doctrine.

Sourced from the original analogue master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 12,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set presents the landmark album with reference-grade detail, tonality, and directness. Marking the first time the beloved LP has received audiophile-quality treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on definitive-sounding vinyl and SACD sets.

Everything about Blue sounds more intimate, involving, and inescapable on this transparent pressing, which benefits from a virtually non-existent noise floor and superior groove definition. Mitchell's voice, positioned front and center, and primarily accompanied by minimalist acoustic guitar, piano, and dulcimer playing, comes across clearly and prominently. Suspended notes and radiant chords double as question marks, commas, and phrases. The in-the-room presence and spatial dimensionality make absolute the full-range spectrum of introspective emotions — hurt and distress, self-awareness and joy, difficulty and uncertainty, warmth and desire — Mitchell navigates, queries, and contemplates throughout the record. The defencelessness the singer once spoke about is laid bare here like never before.

The packaging of the Blue UD1S set complements its distinguished status. Housed in a deluxe box, both LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. This UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artifact for listeners who prize sound quality and production, and who desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the unforgettable cover photograph of a ruminative Mitchell shot by Tim Considine.

Deemed the third Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone; universally celebrated by critics, fans, artists, and educators; and defined by a spell of disarmingly vulnerable songs that are at once confessional, intense, spare, honest, painful, hopeful, and exquisite, Blue charts love, spiritualism, independence, and loss like no record before or since. Widely considered the album that established the singer-songwriter template, the largely autobiographical LP changed everything shortly after its original release in June 1971. Amazingly, it continues to do so more than five decades later.

An incalculable influence on generations of artists, it stands as the through-line from Carole King, Elton John, James Taylor, Joan Armatrading, and Leonard Cohen to Patti Smith, Carly Simon, Emmylou Harris, and Rosanne Cash to 21st century contemporaries like Brandi Carlile, Taylor Swift, Sharon Van Etten, and Courtney Barnett. Teetering between agony and optimism, it is — to borrow a phrase from Mitchell's eternal "A Case of You" — a bottomless "box of paints."

The beauty of the stripped-down arrangements, intoxicating melodies, and Mitchell's wisdom on Blue didn't go unnoticed. Critical acclaim, coupled with the depth of the material and Mitchell's reputation, propelled the album into the Top 20 in the U.S. and Top 10 in the U.K. Yet while so much pop music diminishes with age, Blue has defied norms and headed in the opposite direction. Its 50th anniversary year witnessed an outpouring of tributes, reflections, and testimonials that helped frame the record's escalating importance and symbolism — apt in an age in which women have become the prominent trailblazers in rock, R&B, and hip-hop.

Perhaps most succinctly, in a 2021 article celebrating the LP, the Los Angeles Times declared: "In 1971, nothing sounded like Joni Mitchell's Blue. 50 years later, it's still a miracle." Nothing, indeed. Yet "miracle" suggests Blue partially owes to a divine agent or inexplicable circumstance. And though Mitchell's bracing conviction and forthright sincerity can appear otherworldly, her musical approach and lyrical storytelling is nothing if not personal and human. What we hear is pure truth — no matter how aching, complicated, or stark.

Much has been written about the circumstances that inspired the songs on Blue: Mitchell's romances; her time overseas; her disdain for celebrity; her lingering sense of loss at having given up her daughter for adoption; her treatment by the very same industry that her music made uncomfortable; her prolonged search for resolution. These situations and experiences pushed Mitchell to question everything — especially big-picture concepts that have always obsessed mankind: fulfilment, autonomy, love, honesty, being.

"I wanna make you feel free," Mitchell sings on the record-opening "All I Want." Mission accomplished. Blue is liberation — and the start of a freedom that continues to impact music, culture, and identity today.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called "converts") are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

Balmat co-founders Philip Sherburne and Albert Salinas have been fans of Shy Layers’ lilting, Balearic pop for years, so when Shy Layers’ JD Walsh asked us to listen to a set of demos he was working up with fellow Atlanta multi-instrumentalist Jeff Crompton, we jumped at the chance. And once we heard their work in progress, the decision was almost immediate: We have to release this.

Together, Walsh and Crompton are Anagrams, and their debut album together, Blue Voices, might initially seem like a departure from Balmat’s habitually electronic terrain. It’s not ambient music, but it’s also not not ambient music, at least to listeners in the right frame of mind. The two musicians, who met when Walsh moved from Brooklyn to Atlanta in 2016 and began collaborating a few years later, see the music in similarly ambiguous terms. “I like it because it’s not jazz,” jokes Crompton, a veteran and credentialed jazz player. “And JD likes it because it’s jazz.”

Crompton is a musician (and former high-school band teacher) with deep roots in Georgia’s improvised and experimental music scenes; his credits include shows with Eugene Chadbourne, a guest appearance with Godspeed You! Black Emperor, and a collaboration with Duet for Theremin and Lap Steel’s 12-hour drone performance at Knoxville’s Big Ears. On Blue Voices he plays alto and tenor saxophone, clarinet, electric piano, and organ. Walsh has been releasing music as Shy Layers since 2015, when he started self-releasing on Bandcamp; the following year, Germany’s Growing Bin packaged his first two EPs as a self-titled album, and in 2018, Tim Sweeney’s Beats in Space label put out Shy Layers’ sophomore album, Midnight Marker. Where those records channeled Walsh’s playful harmonic instincts into wistful songwriting with tropical overtones, on Blue Voices he lets his experimental tendencies take the lead. Playing acoustic and electric guitars, electric lap steel, bass, Moog Matriarch, modular synth, and programmed drums, he concentrates his energies on richly textural layers and abstract assemblages of tone color.

Across the album’s 11 tracks, there are faint echoes of familiar touchstones: the atmospheric twang of Daniel Lanois’ pedal steel on Apollo: Atmospheres and Soundtracks; the mercurial modal runs of Ethio- jazz; the late-summer calm of Fuubutsushi; the versatility of players and composers like Patrick Shiroishi and Sam Gendel, who are asking similar questions about where jazz ends and some other, nameless territory begins. Mostly, though, what Blue Voices captures is the quixotic sound of two restless musical imaginations making it up as they go along, two voices discovering a shared language in a hitherto unexplored shade of blue.

Everything becomes fluid when you can pass through time and space like a ghost, a story, a melody. Boy Golden manifests all three on For Jimmy. When listening to his music, it feels easy to dissolve into the ether. Everything flows. From classic country to psych-folk, Alternative to roadhouse pop to Appalaichan bluegrass, Boy Golden’s music is easy, breezy, warm and gritty. And don’t it just feel good to listen to it. Since releasing his debut album, Church of Better Daze, in 2021, he’s played every summer festival on your list, produced a number of albums with friends, released a dozen videos, curated and directed an art show and music video for “KD & Lunchmeat”, the Seth-Rogenesque hit single that charted to #1 on Alternative Radio, and toured with The Sheepdogs on their most recent North American tour. Introspective and vulnerable, traditional and queer, hard-headed and sensual, Boy Golden’s everyman-aesthetic can appeal to all of us. This ability lies in his songwriting: the songs your friends tell you about, the stories you hear from your neighbours, your community. He’s comfortable both in the spotlight and just outside it, sharing the moments with other artists, lifting others up along with him. He’s a genuine student of Townes Van Zandt and Willie Nelson as much as Dwight Yoakam and Stevie Ray Vaughan . Plus his C.O.B.D philosophy, “You can blaze and still get paid” might help us all to blur borders and old definitions of genres we thought we knew, like Steve Lacy or Justin Vernon do for Pop music. Boy Golden is able to maintain his own unique blend of Boy Golden using whatever frame of mind he’s in to fit us into this time. We’re here right now.

Mila Stern's groove-heavy and highly danceable sound explores fringe soundscapes informed by Post-Punk and Electro. What sets her apart is a willingness to embrace unorthodox sounds, explore the beauty in harshness and dissonance, and transform jarring atmospheres into captivating dancefloor moments. With 'Five Finger EP', Mila Stern delivers an eclectic six-tracker featuring two high-pressure originals and four carefully selected reimaginations by Camea, mytripismytrip, Öona Dahl, and Hardt Antoine for Kiosk catalog number 021.

'Five Finger Discount' encapsulates Mila's uncompromising aesthetic: warm, powerful, energetic, and constantly teetering on the brink of disintegration. Morphing, overdriven stabs build energy atop a sub-heavy groove and a sea of pads. A sweeping break fractures the track into shuddering bursts of corroded machinery, before the compact groove returns with punishing dancefloor power.

Camea transforms 'Five Finger Discount' into a heavy-weight techno roller. Shuddering, pitch-shifting bass hits and salvos, sizzling white noise sweeps, and an ominous mantra morph the track into a darkly efficient peak- time banger.


Hardt Antoine builds his rendition of 'Deadline Disco' around an infectiously body-moving arpeggio. Layers of distortion add a searing edge, transforming the original into a stripped powerhouse with Dark Disco undercurrents.

Few artists move on the fringe so comfortably, make unconventional sounds so accessible, or pursue their vision with the same bright-eyed conviction.

With 'Five Finger EP', Mila Stern epitomises the magic that happens when uncommon sounds are embedded in the framework of commanding, floor-focused energy. 'Five Finger EP' embodies her stand-out style and the stunning range of musical interpretations it inspires.

For their fourth album, »Bear In Town«, indie avant-pop supergroup Spirit Fest made a virtue of distance, with group members split across Europe, and recording sessions taking place after a brief 2021 tour of Europe. It’s an object lesson in perseverance and commitment, as the music here is some of Spirit Fest’s most moving yet. The six songs on this album illuminate different aspects of the transnational quintet’s character – lovely, heart-rending pop songs; melancholy chants; the joys of simple repetition – with the group’s guitar pop tended by gentle flourishes of piano and electronics.

Some of those flourishes were spirited onto »Bear In Town« across the waves, with Mat Fowler (Bons, Jam Money) contributing from Britain, while the body of the music was recorded in a small apartment studio in Munich by the other members of Spirit Fest: Saya and Ueno (Tenniscoats), Markus Acher (The Notwist) and Cico Beck (Joasinho, Aloa Input). »Bear In Town« is concise and powerful, the infectious joy of the spirit communicated, beautifully, by melodies that balance the heartfelt with the melancholy. Reflecting on those sessions, Acher says, »I think the album captures how well we played together at that time.« It’s all the more impressive given this material was put down live in the studio, with a few vocal overdubs. The depth of feeling at the core of Spirit Fest’s music is evident from the opening notes of »Bear In Town«.

»Kou-Kou Land«, the first song on the album, recalls several earlier Tenniscoats songs, like »Baibaba Bimba«, in the way the musicians weave gentle complexity around a simple, repeated chant; the stop-start structure of »Kou-Kou Land« builds anticipation, while Saya’s simple melody is lovely, delivered in an absent-minded hum that’s deeply affecting. »Lost & Found« revolves around a delightful descending chord change that breaks up the swaying, folksy verses, gorgeous electronic whirrs and purring winds floating through the song. The following »In Our House« possesses such sweet sadness, it’s one of Spirit Fest’s most moving songs yet.

»Like A Plane« repurposes a song that Markus Acher originally wrote and recorded for his solo EP of the same title, released on a 2022 10-inch single on Morr Music. The original was a gentle, introverted lament, but the version on »Bear In Town« has a widescreen tenderness, its melancholy framed by raindrop piano. The album concludes with two moments of playful splendour, the bossa-inflected »Hill Blo«, and the driving title track, both led by Saya, who is in stunning voice on this album; on »Bear In Town«, her awestruck wonder perfectly captures the sense of possibility in the song’s capacious chords. Like the rest of the album, it’s full of kindness, rich with psych-pop splendour… a balm for troubled times.

On its’ release in November 2022, Daniel Stenger’s debut mini-album as Flashbaxx, Take Care My Friend, won plenty of plaudits for its’ enticing blend of jazz-funk instrumentation, audible warmth, effortless musicality, and memorable, sun-soaked songs. Now the set returns in remixed and reworked form, with a sextet of artists taking it in turns to put a new spin on the German producer’s carefully crafted and immaculately executed tracks.

The six-cut vinyl version boasts two revisions that have already made waves on digital download: a genuinely life-affirming hip-hop-soul take on ‘Strangers’ courtesy of East Midlands’ maestro Atjazz, where Katherine Kempf’s smouldering lead vocals rise above head-nodding beats, woozy electric piano chords, yearning horn arrangements and smooth bass guitar, and a sublime Moods mix of ‘Love Boat’ that re-frames the track as a languid, groove-fired shuffle through Balearic jazz-funk territory.

The other four reworks, which are exclusive to this EP, are similarly inspired. Chris Pookah collaboration ‘City Lights’ is given the remix treatment not once, but twice. First NuNorthern Soul regulars Mike Salta and Mortale re-imagine the track as a gently breezy, dusk-ready blend of bouncy, samba-influenced grooves and colourful Balearic nu-disco, before BJ Smith – the first artist to release music on Phil Cooper’s imprint way back in 2012 – takes the track into semi-acoustic, blue-eyed-soul-meets-Balearic jazz-funk territory. Gentle, tactile, and vibrant, it’s a stunning, soul-stirring revision.

To round off the EP, two producers renowned for creating atmospheric, sunrise-ready soundscapes deliver their versions of Stenger’s kaleidoscopic, musically rich aural visions. Marshall Watson handles ‘Alright’, smothering a languid, slow-motion drum machine beat in jazzy double bass, delay-laden electric piano motifs, lazy jazz guitars, rising synth strings and the dreamiest of pads.

Then, to round things off in considerable style, Tambores En Benirras reworks title track ‘Take Care My Friend’, teasing out the track’s inherent musical colour and warmth whilst adding his own distinctive spin. Pleasingly hard to pigeonhole, his remix makes extensive use of deep, dubby bass, Latin-style percussion, leisurely beats, blossoming synth sounds and all manner of effects-laden instrumental flourishes – including guitar solos that recall some of Dave Gilmour’s most laidback, eyes-closed moments. It provides a genuinely brilliant conclusion to an effortlessly impressive set of remixes.

Sophistication is a very apt description of both the music and the performing artist that is Bill Albright (real name Anthony Bills). Born in 1961 and raised in Baltimore, MD. Albright received a vocational as well as an associates degree in Electrical Engineering and Technology during 1981 the same year as he was blessed with the birth of his son Anthony Jr. From 1982 through to 1985 Bill had moved to New York City to model professionally for several major retail corporations such as Macy’s and Bloomingdales making good use of 170 pounds, six feet tall frame and handsome photogenic looks, while still finding time to hone his singing, songwriting and studio engineering skills through attending art Composers Theatre. His musical management and composing skills were to continue upon his return to his native Baltimore in 1986 as the prelude to him joining the national fundraising touring team for The United Negro College Fund in conjunction with the National Basket Ball Association (NBA) Slam Dunk Contests. Interacting with such celebrity players as Magic Johnson, Arsenio Hall, Spike Lee and Robert Townsend and Atlanta Hawks team mates Spud Webb and Dominique Wilkins.



Through his travels during 1989 Albright decided to settle in Atlanta, GA, making it his home to this present day. Once settled he founded his own cleaning business ‘All Bright Cleaning Services Inc’ built on good old-fashioned ethics of hard work and a strong determination to succeed, the exact same traits that he would later display in his future musical journey. While providing his cleaning services to major commercial companies, home, office and car detailing Albright found the time to continue pursuing his musical ambitions with a strong emphasis on live and recorded performances. In 1993 Albright formed ‘Bill Albright Productions Inc’ working with the late Keith “Keecho” Rawls the former Keyboardist and Musical Director for Peabo Bryson. Albright’s work has often been likened to Peabo’s for obvious reasons as well as Luther Vandross and Johnny Gill, He also draws inspiration from the stars of his youth Nat King Cole, The Isley Brothers, Frankie Beverley and Marvin Gaye amongst others. Albrights productions while being contemporary still retain an old school leaning which widens his appeal to a broader audience. Feeling that the time wasn’t right to release his material Albright continued with his successful cleaning business and live performances, that was until 2022 when he released the first of his productions (as a download only) the stylish “Sitting By The Phone” which gives more than a passing nod to Billy Stewart’s timeless classic “Sitting In The Park” but recorded in Albright’s own unique way. Albright’s second and forthcoming release is the more contemporary mid-tempo mover “In The Middle Of The Night” (only available as a download in the United States) but is due for a simultaneous vinyl 45 release in the UK paired with the aforementioned “Sitting By The Phone” as Soul Junction’s next 45 outing.

"Another Love Song - The Frames are an Irish indie rock band formed in Dublin in 1990. The band is known for their passionate and emotive sound, which blends elements of rock, folk, and traditional Irish music. Over the years, they have released several critically acclaimed albums, including ""Another Love Song,"" which is widely regarded as one of their most influential works.
""Another Love Song"" was released in 1991 and marked a turning point in the band's career. The album featured a raw, stripped-down sound that was a departure from their earlier, more polished work. The songs on the album were deeply personal and introspective, exploring themes of love, loss, and the complexities of human relationships. The album's title track, ""Another Love Song,"" became an instant classic, showcasing the band's signature sound with its driving rhythms and soaring vocals. The song's bittersweet lyrics and haunting melody struck a chord with listeners and quickly became a fan favourite.
In addition to ""Another Love Song,"" the album features several other standout tracks, including ""Say It to Me Now,"" ""The Dancer,"" and ""Downhill."" Each song on the album showcases the band's dynamic musicianship and poetic lyricism, earning the album a reputation as a seminal work in the Irish indie rock scene. Over the years, The Frames have continued to evolve and innovate, releasing several more critically acclaimed albums and earning a dedicated following of fans around the world. With their unique blend of raw emotion and musical artistry, The Frames continue to inspire and captivate audiences with their powerful, soulful music.


Fitzcarraldo - ""Fitzcarraldo"" is the sixth studio album by the Irish rock band The Frames, released in 1995. The album marked a significant departure from the band's earlier work, with a more experimental sound that blended rock, folk, and experimental elements.
The album takes its name from the Werner Herzog film of the same name, which tells the story of a man who attempts to build an opera house in the Amazon jungle. This theme of ambition and perseverance in the face of adversity runs throughout the album, as frontman Glen Hansard explores themes of love, loss, and the human experience. The album opens with the hauntingly beautiful track ""Revelate,"" which sets the tone for the rest of the album with its soaring vocals and intricate guitar work. From there, the album takes the listener on a journey through a diverse range of sounds and emotions, from the upbeat rock of ""What Happens When the Heart Just Stops"" to the melancholic balladry of ""Fitzcarraldo.""
One of the standout tracks on the album is ""Lay Me Down,"" a tender and heartfelt ballad that showcases Hansard's powerful vocals and poetic lyricism. The song has become a fan favourite and is often performed live by the band. Another highlight of the album is the epic nine-minute track ""Fitzcarraldo,"" which features lush instrumentation and intricate guitar work. The song is a tribute to the film of the same name and explores themes of ambition and determination in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.
Overall, ""Fitzcarraldo"" is a powerful and deeply personal album that showcases The Frames at their most ambitious and experimental. With its diverse range of sounds and emotions, the album remains a fan favourite and a landmark in the Irish rock canon.

Dance the Devil
Dance the Devil is the fourth studio album by the Irish rock band, The Frames. Released in 1999, it marked a significant departure from the band's earlier sound and was a critical and commercial success.
The album features 10 tracks, including the hit single ""Pavement Tune,"" which received extensive radio play and helped to propel The Frames to greater prominence in the music industry. Dance the Devil showcases the band's versatility and musical prowess, blending elements of rock, folk, and pop to create a unique and compelling sound. The lyrics are introspective and poetic, exploring themes of love, loss, and self-discovery.
Produced by Steve Albini, the album was recorded in just five days, giving it a raw and unpolished feel that perfectly captures the energy and passion of The Frames' live performances.
Dance the Devil remains a beloved album among fans of Irish music and continues to inspire new generations of musicians. Its enduring popularity is a testament to the artistry and vision of The Frames and their commitment to pushing the boundaries of what is possible in rock music.
"

"Another Love Song - The Frames are an Irish indie rock band formed in Dublin in 1990. The band is known for their passionate and emotive sound, which blends elements of rock, folk, and traditional Irish music. Over the years, they have released several critically acclaimed albums, including ""Another Love Song,"" which is widely regarded as one of their most influential works.
""Another Love Song"" was released in 1991 and marked a turning point in the band's career. The album featured a raw, stripped-down sound that was a departure from their earlier, more polished work. The songs on the album were deeply personal and introspective, exploring themes of love, loss, and the complexities of human relationships. The album's title track, ""Another Love Song,"" became an instant classic, showcasing the band's signature sound with its driving rhythms and soaring vocals. The song's bittersweet lyrics and haunting melody struck a chord with listeners and quickly became a fan favourite.
In addition to ""Another Love Song,"" the album features several other standout tracks, including ""Say It to Me Now,"" ""The Dancer,"" and ""Downhill."" Each song on the album showcases the band's dynamic musicianship and poetic lyricism, earning the album a reputation as a seminal work in the Irish indie rock scene. Over the years, The Frames have continued to evolve and innovate, releasing several more critically acclaimed albums and earning a dedicated following of fans around the world. With their unique blend of raw emotion and musical artistry, The Frames continue to inspire and captivate audiences with their powerful, soulful music.


Fitzcarraldo - ""Fitzcarraldo"" is the sixth studio album by the Irish rock band The Frames, released in 1995. The album marked a significant departure from the band's earlier work, with a more experimental sound that blended rock, folk, and experimental elements.
The album takes its name from the Werner Herzog film of the same name, which tells the story of a man who attempts to build an opera house in the Amazon jungle. This theme of ambition and perseverance in the face of adversity runs throughout the album, as frontman Glen Hansard explores themes of love, loss, and the human experience. The album opens with the hauntingly beautiful track ""Revelate,"" which sets the tone for the rest of the album with its soaring vocals and intricate guitar work. From there, the album takes the listener on a journey through a diverse range of sounds and emotions, from the upbeat rock of ""What Happens When the Heart Just Stops"" to the melancholic balladry of ""Fitzcarraldo.""
One of the standout tracks on the album is ""Lay Me Down,"" a tender and heartfelt ballad that showcases Hansard's powerful vocals and poetic lyricism. The song has become a fan favourite and is often performed live by the band. Another highlight of the album is the epic nine-minute track ""Fitzcarraldo,"" which features lush instrumentation and intricate guitar work. The song is a tribute to the film of the same name and explores themes of ambition and determination in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.
Overall, ""Fitzcarraldo"" is a powerful and deeply personal album that showcases The Frames at their most ambitious and experimental. With its diverse range of sounds and emotions, the album remains a fan favourite and a landmark in the Irish rock canon.

Dance the Devil
Dance the Devil is the fourth studio album by the Irish rock band, The Frames. Released in 1999, it marked a significant departure from the band's earlier sound and was a critical and commercial success.
The album features 10 tracks, including the hit single ""Pavement Tune,"" which received extensive radio play and helped to propel The Frames to greater prominence in the music industry. Dance the Devil showcases the band's versatility and musical prowess, blending elements of rock, folk, and pop to create a unique and compelling sound. The lyrics are introspective and poetic, exploring themes of love, loss, and self-discovery.
Produced by Steve Albini, the album was recorded in just five days, giving it a raw and unpolished feel that perfectly captures the energy and passion of The Frames' live performances.
Dance the Devil remains a beloved album among fans of Irish music and continues to inspire new generations of musicians. Its enduring popularity is a testament to the artistry and vision of The Frames and their commitment to pushing the boundaries of what is possible in rock music.
"

The next chapter of the Natural Information Society is here. Since Time Is Gravity, credited to Natural Information Society Community Ensemble with Ari Brown, presents a newly expanded manifestation of acclaimed composer & multi-instrumentalist Joshua Abrams nearly 15 year, 7 albums &-counting flagship ensemble. Joining the core NIS of Abrams (guimbri & bass), Lisa Alvarado (harmonium) Mikel Patrick Avery (drums) & Jason Stein (bass clarinet) are Hamid Drake (percussion), Josh Berman & Ben Lamar Gay (cornets), Nick Mazzarella & Mai Sugimoto (alto saxophones & flute), Kara Bershad (harp) & Chicago living legend of the tenor saxophone Ari Brown. Recorded live to tape at Electrical Audio & The Graham Foundation, cover painting Vibratory Cartography: Nepantla, by Lisa Alvarado. 2xLP on Eremite USA, 2xLP & CD on Aguirre/Eremite Europe. Out 14-04.

Since first developing Natural Information Society in 2010, Joshua Abrams has been gradually expanding the group’s conceptual underpinnings, its musical references & the sheer number of the group’s members. Its music is, in a sense, an expansive form of minimalism, based in repeated & overlaid rhythmic patterns, ostinatos & modality. Its roots, its scale & its meaning become clearer in time. If time is gravity, it also allows us to carry more. Having begun as fundamentally a rhythm section with Abrams’ guimbri at its core, the version here can stretch to a tentet, including six horns.

Abrams has been expanding his minimalism gradually, but he has long understood a key to minimalism’s potential: the breadth of its roots in the late 1950s & early 1960s, ranging from the dissatisfaction of young European-stream composers with the limitations of serialism to the simultaneous dissatisfaction of jazz musicians with the dense harmonic vocabulary of bop & hard bop. The former began exploring rhythmic complexity & narrow tonal palates in place of harmonic abstraction (Steve Reich’s Drumming, Philip Glass’ Music with Changing Parts; perhaps above all Terry Riley’s In C & his late ‘60s all-night organ & loop concerts); the later reduced dense chord changes to scales (signally with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, but rapidly expanding with John Coltrane’s vast project). In the 1950s the LP record opened the world with documentation of Asian & African musics, key influences on both minimalists & jazz musicians. If John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone suggested the keening shehnai of Bismillah Khan, the instrument was rapidly taken up by two key minimalists, LaMonte Young & Riley, similarly appreciative of its flexible intonation, the same thing that kept it out of big bands.

If the guimbri, the North African hide-covered lute that Abrams plays with NIS, involves a rich tradition of hypnotic healing music associated with the Gnawa people, Abrams’ music also touches on other musics as well — other depths, memories & healings, different drones, rhythms & modes. As the group expands on Since Time Is Gravity, he has made certain jazz traditions in the same stream more explicit as well. If there is a mystical & elastic quality involved in the experience of time, both in direction & duration, you will catch it here. The parts for the choir of winds expand on the roles of Abrams’ guimbri, Mikel Patrick Avery & Hamid Drake’s percussion & Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium: at times, the winds are almost looping in the tentet version, each hitting a repeating note in turn, at once drone & distinct inflection on temporal sequence. The brilliance of the work resides in Abrams’ compositions, the NIS’ intuitive execution & in Ari Brown’s singular embodiment of the great tenor saxophone tradition, including the oracular genius of Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, & Yusef Lateef. The three pieces by the expanded NIS featuring Brown —the opening “Moontide Chorus” & “Is” & the ultimate “Gravity”— have an immediate impact, & togther might be considered a kind of concerto for tenor saxophone. Here Brown presses almost indistinguishably from composed melody to improvised speech, getting so close to language that he might have a text. Everything here is a sign. Note the tap of the Rhythm Ace that links “Moontide Chorus” to “Is”, the attentive heart always present, even when signed by a machine. There’s a link here to the methodologies & meanings of dub music & the linear & vertical collage of beats, textures & tongues: treated with reverence, a sample of a beat-box can be as soulful, as hypnotic, as a mbira or a tamboura. If those pieces with Brown are heard as a suspended concerto, the three embrace & enfold the other works, like the sepals of a flower. That placement will also touch on the mysteries of our perception of time.

Particularly in “Is”, but elsewhere as well, a phenomenon of transcendence arises in which time appears to be tripartite, at once moving backwards & forwards & standing still. This is an act of technical brilliance certainly, but also an illumination of music’s ability to represent temporal consciousness through polymetrics. This particular listener has only heard it before in a few places, including the horn shouts & bowed basses of Coltrane’s Africa, in moments of Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady, in certain pieces where tapes were literally running backwards, & earlier still in Dizzy Gillespie’s Cubana Be, Cubana Bop, in which the composer George Russell & conguero Chano Pozo found a music that spoke at once in the voices of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring & the vestigial rites, rhythms & songs of the Yoruba language & Santeria religion of inland Cuba.

In Joshua Abrams’ compositions & the realization of them by the NIS, in the time of one’s close listening & memory thereof, distinctions between the “natural” & the “social”, the “quotidian” & the “transcendent” are erased, suspended or perhaps irrelevant. Consider two of the ensemble pieces, one named for nature, the other social science. In “Murmuration” the repeated wind figures of flute & alto saxophone combine with the interlocking patterns of harp, guimbri & frame drum (tar) to create a perfect moving stillness, not an imitation but a witness to the miracle of the starlings’ astonishing collective art, a surfeit of beauty that might be the ultimate defense tactic.

“Stigmergy” takes its name & concept from the Occupy movement’s Heather Marsh, who proposes a social system based on a cooperative rather than competitive models, one in which ideas are freely contributed & developed as ideas rather than an individual’s property. In its form, Abrams’ “Stigmergy” is the closes thing to traditional jazz, a series of accompanied solos by each of the wind players. However, the composed accompaniment is a radically collectivist notion: a repeated rhythmic figure, call it ostinato or riff, in which the different winds each play only a note or two of the figure, a concept both more collectivist & individualistic in its conception than any typical unison figure. It suggests another of the underlying recognitions that propel the Natural Information Society, the group as social organism, the teleology of hypnotic anarchy, all parts in place, functioning systematically, evolving & expressing itself, its nature & society, as a transformative organism.

George Lewis has described music as “a space for reflection on the human condition”. This suggests that, rather than a “distraction”, at least some music might serve as a distraction from distraction. It’s a focus, a clarity, a awareness, an external invitation to interiority, as if music itself is a model for form & contemplation, an organism contemplating for us or as us. If that is a possibility, & I am sure I have heard such musics, than this music is among them. How many of our rhythms, melodies & harmonies (cultural, historical, biological, psychic) might such music carry, translate & transform in the particulate ecstasy of our own murmuration? (Stuart Broomer, April 2022)

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Down On Darkened Meetings, the first solo release on the label from the quietly prolific Giuseppe Ielasi. Recorded at Ielasi’s studio in Monza outside of Milan over two days in February 2022, the seven pieces presented here continue the renewed exploration of the guitar that marks much of his solo work over the last few years. Emerging in the late 1990s as an improviser working primarily with prepared acoustic and electric guitars, the instrument became less prominent in his work over the next decade, ceding to loop-based constructs that would eventually split into abstracted takes on club music and hip-hop (including his work as Inventing Masks), on the one hand, and spectral electroacoustic explorations (such as the stunning triple disc 3 pauses), on the other. Returning to the guitar in recent years, he has approached the instrument as a source of shimmering metallic glissandi (Five Wooden Frames) or as the vehicle of elegiac double-tracked lines that feel almost like Frisell playing Feldman (The Return). Here the focus is on electric guitar filtered, looped, and splayed out into fields of irregular echoes through a bank of pedals. Like many of Ielasi’s releases, Down On Darkened Meetings is structured as a set of short untitled pieces (here ranging between two and six minutes in length) that single-mindedly explore a single instrument or source throughout. The opening track immediately introduced the distinctive timbral world of fizzing, heavily filtered tones, chiming harmonics, and woozy looping bass figures inhabited throughout. At points it becomes near impossible to trace these sounds to the strings of an electric guitar; at others, as on the final two pieces, the instrument is unmistakable, as Ielasi builds up his shifting loops from snatches of almost unintentional sounding half-playing that give these closing tracks a hushed, private atmosphere reminiscent of Tolerance’s Anonym. While the repeating chords and hanging melodic figures present on many tracks call to mind earlier Ielasi classics like Gesine and Untitled, here the music feels less meticulously constructed than played: Ielasi’s lyrical guitar lines obscured by a battery of effects at times come across like a dilated take on the outer-fringe fretwork of improvisers like Henry Kaiser and Raymond Boni, and the muddy, asynchronous fields of pops and hiss at times wander into areas reminiscent of the hand-played dub techno of Vladislav Delay’s Multila. Like much of Ielasi’s work in recent years, these seven pieces perform a delicate balancing act: between abstraction and immediacy, austerity and abundance. Imbued with Ielasi’s distinctive lightness of touch, considered approach to pacing, and subtly psychedelic approach to the stereo field, Down on Darkened Meetings is a major new work from a quiet master of contemporary experimental music.

For nearly 60 years, John Cale has been reimagining how his music is made, sounds, and even works. MERCY, Cale’s first full album in a decade, moves through true dark-night-of-the-soul electronic torment toward vulnerable love songs and hopeful considerations for the future with the help of some of music’s most curious young minds. Cale has always searched for new ways to explore old ideas of alienation, hurt, and joy; MERCY is the latest transfixing find of this unsatisfied mind.

John Cale announces MERCY, his first new album of original songs in a decade, out January 20th via Double Six / Domino. For nearly 60 years, or at least since he was a young Welshman who moved to New York and formed The Velvet Underground, Cale has been reinventing his music with dazzling and inspiring regularity. There was the bewitching chamber folk of Paris 1919 followed instantly by the gnarled rock of Fear, the provocative and spare song cycle Music for a New Society followed more than 30 years later by mighty and unabashed electronic updates. Once again, here is Cale, reimagining how his music is made, sounds, and even works. His engrossing 12-track MERCY moves through true dark-night-of-the-soul electronics toward vulnerable love songs and hopeful considerations for the future.

On MERCY, Cale enlists some of music’s most curious young minds: Animal Collective, Sylvan Esso, Laurel Halo, Tei Shi, Actress. They’re only some of the astounding cast here, brilliant musicians who climb inside Cale’s consummate vision of the world and help him redecorate there. Cale turned 80 in March, and he’s watched as many peers have passed away, particularly during the last decade. MERCY is the continuation of a long career’s work with wonder. Cale has always searched for new ways to explore old ideas of alienation, hurt, and joy; MERCY is the latest transfixing find of this unsatisfied mind.



The writings and recordings that shaped MERCY piled up for years, as Cale watched society totter at the brink of dystopia. Trump and Brexit, Covid and climate change, civil rights and right-wing extremism—Cale let the bad news of the day filter into his lines, whether that meant contemplating the sovereignty and legal status of sea ice melting near the poles or the unhinged arming of Americans. Lessons from a life (still being) richly lived floated to the fore, too, nodded to on the previously released “NIGHT CRAWLING.” If we’re always regretting our past, aren’t we conscripting ourselves to permanent disappointment?

During “STORY OF BLOOD,” after the piano prelude gives way to a frame-rattling beat and synthesizers that feel like sunshine splashed across a snowfield, the voices of Cale and Weyes Blood’s Natalie Mering slide past one another, two phantoms trying to find a partner amid the modern din. “Swing your soul,” they both sing in aspiration. In the final verse, Cale remembers this existence is not just about himself. “I’m going back to get them, my friends in the morning. Bring them with me into the light.” The accompanying video by Emmy-winning director Jethro Waters is a mix of disturbing and serene featuring both Cale and Weyes Blood. Its deep tones and religious images emphasize the track’s dark, spiritual mood.

Cale elaborates: “I’d been listening to Weyes Blood’s latest record and remembered Natalie’s puritanical vocals. I thought if I could get her to come and sing with me on the ‘Swing your soul’ section, and a few other harmonies, it would be beautiful. What I got from her was something else! Once I understood the versatility in her voice, it was as if I’d written the song with her in mind all along. Her range and fearless approach to tonality was an unexpected surprise. There’s even a little passage in there where she’s a dead-ringer for Nico.”

Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI on dead-quiet 180g vinyl, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g LP of Local Hero gives the beloved effort audiophile-grade sound on a par with the reference-quality sonics afforded Dire Straits' Mobile Fidelity reissues. In each arrangement, Knopfler's methodical guitar lines emerge with supreme transparency and multi-hued textural detail. The intricate notes, finger-picked passages, and cosmopolitan lines come across as if they're transmitted just feet away from you in real time.

Ditto the diverse accompaniment, including the Celtic-themed effects, supplemental jazz accents, and folk inflections. The keys to the nearly 44-minute effort's success and continuity relate not only to Knoplfer's laidback style and low-key approach, but his ear for uncanny melody and blues traces. Woven acoustically and electrically, his tapestries benefit from the newfound airiness, openness, and balance that live on this reissue. No matter the instrument or treatment, the music arrives with pinpoint imaging and vibrant liveliness. Close your eyes, and the Mobile Fidelity version of Local Hero projects movies in your head.

For instance, take the closing "Going Home," a cherished instrumental whose proud spirit resonates with English football fans and features saxophone playing by the late, great Michael Brecker. Heard before every Newcastle United F.C. home game, it has become an anthem on both sides of the Atlantic. Or, look to "The Ceilidh: Louis' Favorite Billy's Tune" on which Scottish-flavored vibes and dance tempos conjure a festive jig until a transition gives the number a more subdued, romantic feel. Then, the pattern repeats. Seeking to expand beyond the parameters of Dire Straits, Knoplfer taps into a global economy of structures and sounds, and takes anyone with a sense of adventure along for the ride.

Not that his hallmark six-string is absent from the proceedings. It frames the lovely tin-pan whistle motif of the aptly titled "Whistle Theme," acts as a beacon for the elegant, vibraphone-kissed "Smooching," and pushes forward the jovial, top-down momentum of "Freeway Flyer," among other highlights. Knopfler also receives assistance from session pros Mike Mainieri, Steve Jordan, and Terry Williams, as well as vocalist Gerry Rafferty on the set's sole vocal tune, "That's the Way It Always Starts."

One thing that is written in stone even in these days of near endless uncertainty is that when Topical Disco unleashes one of their vinyl releases they are a no questions asked, must have. For a label which regularly dominates the top spot of the download charts they still consistently manage to up the ante for their vinyl drops. It’s no wonder at all that the previous editions have gone on to become collector’s editions, disappearing from the shelves as quickly as you can say here today, gone tomorrow.

Volume 24 easily keeps this incredible run of club vinyl masterpieces going strong. Packed across two side of black gold are tracks from newcomers and scene heavy hitters alike Toscana, Toby O’Conner, Charly Angelz and Frank Virgilio.

The mysterious Toscana leads the way with the wonderfully enigmatic ‘The Girl With The Red Hair’, a six and a half minute slice of pleasure packed Balearic disco. Incessant, warm and inviting it combines a divine groove heavy bassline, funky guitar licks and a subtle percussive backbone with a rather brilliant stand-out guitar solo. This is a track which is guaranteed to fill those summer dancefloors.

Next up is Toby O’Conner who is returning to Tropical Disco after his lauded ‘The Heist / 1920 EP’ with another high energy slice of disco goodness in the shape of ‘Cave Of Gold’. Again this is classic Tropical Disco, combing both live chops with jazz overtones as throbbing club ready drums provide the framework for a bubbling bassline, subtle keys and sax solo’s aplenty to weave their magic. Expect jazz inspired shapes to be thrown on dancefloors across the globe when this one drops.

Over on the flip is Charly Angelz, another artist who has been making a considerable swirl on the disco scene of late. ‘Mother Phunk’ is very aptly named with an absolute gem of a bassline front and centre as classic funk vocal chops, vibey pads and guitar stabs all combine perfectly with earworm strings for anther sure fire floor filler.

Closing the EP out is scene stalwart Frank Virgilio. Hailing from Napoli Frank has been behind a virtual disco smorgasbord over the five years including regular chart bothering appearances on Tropical disco. ‘What We Love’ tips its hat to the golden era of house music, think 90’s Soulfuric meets MAW. Vibes abound here from the classic drum sounds right through to the divine ethereal percussion which adds that touch of class. This is another track which will sound just perfect on the golden Isle this coming summer, did some-one say Ibizan boat party? We’re onboard!

All compositions by Christian Wallumrod. Trondheim Voices is a groundbreaking Norwegian ensemble of improvising vocalists, constantly challenging and changing the framework for how a vocal ensemble can produce sound art. Each singer's individuality, and her timbre combined with the other voices, are in focus, resulting in a unique quality to the groups collective sound. Through their many collaborations with cutting edge composers like Christian Wallumrod, Marilyn Mazur, Jon Balke, Mats Gustavsson and Maja Ratkje, they have made solid statements as developers within vocal and improvised music. Trondheim Voices are exploring and developing new music in the interaction between the singers, the audience, their surroundings and new technology. Christian Wallumrod has worked as a musician and composer since 1992, and he is considered one of the most prominent and influential musicians of his generation in Norway. Following his debut on ECM Records ("No Birch", 1996), he has released a string of albums with Christian Wallumrod Ensemble (CWE) on the same label, all to considerable critical acclaim. The album "Outstairs" (2013) was awarded the Norwegian Grammy's (Spellemannprisen). Brutter (2012), Christian's collaboration with drummer brother Fredrik, has released three albums (Hubro). Hubro is also the home for albums with CWE and Dans Les Arbres, as well as Wallumrod's solo piano records Pianokammer (2015) and Speaksome (2021). Wallumrod has written commissioned works for Ensemble Allegria, Håkon Stene, Oslo Strykekvartett, BOA and Trondheim Jazz Orchestra

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.

In the autumn of 2003, Flunk - then consisting of producer/vocalist Ulf Nygaard, singer Anja Øyen Vister, guitarist Jo Bakke and drummer Erik Ruud - booked in at the Hotel de Roubaix in Paris. The framework for their second album "Morning Star" was recorded during a busy week in the Paris hotel room, before being worked out and finished in their Oslo studio early 2004.

The album was licensed to Kriztal Recordings in the USA the following year, and their version of the album included five tracks not on the original Beatservice Records versions, and omitting the Kinks cover "All Day and All Of The Night".

On this expanded edition of the album, all of the US bonus tracks are included to the original Beatservice Records tracklisting, making it a 14 track album.

Two cover song are included: The Kinks' "All Day and All Of The Night", performed as a duet by Anja and Ulf. The cover is the most up-tempo track on the album, capturing the energy of the original Kinks' classic in Flunk's slightly odd way. There is also an acoustic live-in-studio version of New Order's "True Faith". But most of all "Morning Star" includes very strong original material. Both the title track "Morning Star", and the singles "On My Balcony" and "Blind My Mind" showcases the songwriting talents of Flunk.

The track "Play" didn't make it on the original release of the album. But the band did a total makeover of it for the US release, and the track ended up as the feature song in an episode of the show "The O.C.", and on the fourth "The O.C." compilation album.

Other tracks included from the US version of "Morning Star" are the beautiful "Probably" (originally recorded for the debut album "For Sleepyheads Only"), the New Order classic, "True Faith" (a different version than the b-side to "On My Balcony"), the poppy "Skysong" and the lush "All My Dreams On Hold".

"Folk electronica" has been used by a.o. american press to describe Flunk, and on the "Morning Star" album, they have evolved this further. The album is pure indie pop, less electronica - all tracks built around Jo's trademark guitar sound and the voice of Anja Øyen Vister.

"Morning Star" is an instantly tuneful pop injection, now further expanded and with a new superb sounding 2022 24-bit re-master.

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.

Leaving Records presents Under the Lilac Sky, the debut LP by Arushi Jain, an India-born, US-residing composer, modular synthesist, vocalist, technologist, and engineer. At six songs spanning 48 minutes of ambient synth ragas intended to be heard during the sunset hours, Under the Lilac Sky invites the listener to transport themselves through intentional listening. Jain states, “You know that moment when the sun is bidding farewell to the sky, and the colors turn into beautiful hues of purple and pink and everything in between? That is the moment that this album will shine the most. The deeper you listen, the more shades you’ll see.”

Jain’s work focuses on reinterpreting traditional Indian classical music through the lens of electronic instrumentation. She re-contextualizes ancient sounds in a modern framework, carrying the torch of electronic luminaries such as Suzanne Ciani and Terry Riley while pursuing personal explorations of her musical heritage and upbringing. Under the Lilac Sky is a cinematic statement of intent, an album that reverently nods to Jain’s musical history while presenting a bold sonic point of view. Jain states, “This album is the coming together of two distinct cultures of Hindustani classical and modular synthesizers representing the two parts of me that evolved into one whole in between my time in India and California”

Voice is emphasized as an essential element of the album, not just for the lyrics or the melodies but also as a source of texture. It is most recognizable when Jain sings aalaaps or sargam of the different ragas the songs are composed in, however her voice is deeply embedded in other, sometimes quieter layers of the record. Jain, who spent her childhood studying indian classical as a vocalist says, “At any given point, there is at least one layer in the record that carries my voice. The human voice is powerful and unique to every individual. My voice is unique to me, so I decided it should be present at all times even if it’s unrecognizable.”

Another core theme of Under the Lilac Sky is the time of day, and the role it plays in influencing how one interacts with the music. “Intrinsic to Indian classical music is the concept of Time and Seasonality. For each raga, there is a specific time of the day when it is meant to be heard for it to shine in it’s authenticity. It harkens to the question of when the environment around you is most in tune with your own sound and breath, and how it supports you in realizing your vision of the moment. This album is meant to be an ode to those timely rituals, and is best heard while you take a moment to do what you love.”

Jain’s exploratory musical ethos finds a like-minded home within Leaving Records’ “All Genre” philosophy. Jain is acutely aware of her role as a composer and modular synthesist reinterpreting a historical art form. “For Indian classical music, this is atypical. The music I compose is inspired by a centuries old tradition, yet aestheticized in a novel way, using the tools and technical innovations of analog synth movements. My art is crafted using machines that I’ve slowly fallen in love with and made my own.”

Gazelle Twin, Lali Puna, This Mortal Coil, Slow Walkers, Atlas Sound, Bowery Electric, Broadcast Press Release: Snakeskin is an album of visionary electronic dream pop, shapeshifting above ambient and industrial undercurrents. It is moody, unsettling, luminous – the culmination of a decade of collaboration and friendship between Lebanese producer/musician/ engineer Fadi Tabbal and singer-songwriter Julia Sabra from Beirut-based indie trio Postcards. The duo began working on Snakeskin in the aftermath of the August 2020 Beirut port explosion, which killed at least 218 people, injured 7,000, and left over 300,000 people homeless. Indeed, Julia's home was destroyed by the explosion and her partner and bandmate Pascal badly injured. The first song that they wrote together afterwards was 'Roots', which closes out the album and was composed for the Ruptured-curated series The Drone Sessions in the fall of 2020. Snakeskin utilizes tape loops, synthesizers, vocals, and drum machines, combining Julia’s pop-inspired melodies and choral roots (an echo from her religious upbringing) with Fadi’s affinity for minimalism and musique concrète. The album seamlessly incorporates the melancholy electro-pop of 'All The Birds', the quiet menace of 'In Our Garden' (long-lost treasures, ancient lies / another buried paradise), and the beat-driven 'Signs'. The title track sums up their frame of mind, beginning as a lullaby and evolving into a glittering tapestry of distortion and feedback. As the artists write, Snakeskin is a product of "the disappearance of life as we know it, and with it the decay of nature and living creatures. There is no rebirth, no renewal. It’s about what it means to feel at home in such a place." Some tracks were also inspired by events happening in the surrounding region, such as the invasion of Armenia by Azerbaijan and the Palestinian uprising of May 2021 in Sheikh Jarrah - both events shedding light on relationships to home and land across the wider region. That such compelling art can emerge from unceasing tragedy may be the ultimate testament to human resilience and the pursuit of freedom and justice. "The moon speaks in tongues we can't discern / A plastic dove hangs from a cypress branch / Haven't you heard? / Nothing grows here anymore / The air is burnt / Nothing grows..." Highlights: – This is the second volume in the Corrosion Series, a collaborative effort by Beacon Sound and Ruptured, and the sixth collaboration between the two labels. – Fadi used samples of Julia's voice on his fifth solo album Subject to Potential Errors and Distortions (2020, Beacon Sound/Ruptured) – The Tunefork Studios team, led by Fadi, administered the Beirut Musician's Fund after the port explosion, as covered by Pitchfork, NME, and the Financial Times. – Julia's band Postcards released their third full-length album After The Fire, Before The End on Berlin label T3 Records in 2021 and are currently touring Europe. Credits: All music composed, performed and produced by Julia Sabra and Fadi Tabbal between November 2020 and December 2022. Lyrics by Julia Sabra. Drum samples by Pascal Semerdjian. Recorded by Fadi Tabbal, mixed by Sary Moussa and Fadi Tabbal at Tunefork Studios, Beirut. Cover photo by Lujain Jo. Design by Josette 'ZOoz' Khalil. Mastered by Rashad Becker. Bios: Julia Sabra is a Lebanese musician, songwriter and composer. She co-founded acclaimed Lebanese dream-pop outfit Postcards in 2013 and is the band’s multi-instrumentalist, lead singer and lyricist. Postcards have released two EPs (2013, 2015) and three albums (2018, 2020, 2021) and have been regularly touring Europe and the Middle East since 2015. She has been the manager of Tunefork Studios since 2017. Lebanese musician, producer, and sound engineer Fadi Tabbal’s work consist of minimalist pieces ranging from ambient and electronic to drone and contemporary classical. He has released six solo albums and has collaborated with various musicians, artists and filmmakers through the years. Often referred to as “the hardest-working person in Lebanon’s alternative music scene”, Tabbal established Tunefork Studios, a collective of producers, engineers and musicians, which has helped shape Beirut's contemporary music scene since 2006.

Matmos are one of the most prominent experimental electronic artists working today, crafting work by creating new conceptual frameworks & immediately testing those frameworks absolute limits. For Regards / Uklony dla Boguslaw Schaeffer they've focused on another artist known, in large part, for doing the same. Boguslaw Schaeffer was one of the first Polish artists creating electronic music. In step with American contemporaries like John Cage and Morton Feldman, he worked across the boundaries of classical composition, electronic experimentation, and radical theater in playfully form-breaking ways. Matmos are not the first ones to recognize the power of his catalog, from Solo (a 2008 documentary that garnered numerous international awards), to the annual Shaeffer's Era Festival (most recently celebrated simultaneously in Warsaw and Los Angeles) his work continues to inspire. Regards.. however, was not just inspired by his work, Matmos were given access to the entirity of Schaeffer's recorded works to use as they saw fit, commissioned by the prestigious Instytutu Adama Mickiewicza. They re-assembled & re-combined these recorded works with modern instrumentations in a way that only Matmos could, and what emerges is a composite portrait of the utopian 1960s Polish avant-garde and the contemporary dystopian cultural moment regarding each other across a distance. To facilitate the transcultural exchange that is the album's essential premise, all song titles and liner-notes are provided in both English and Polish. The album was mastered by Rashad Becker and features illustration and design by acclaimed artist Robert Beatty (Tame Impala, Osees, Mdou Moctar). Like the anagrams of the letters of Boguslaw Schaeffer's name that were re-assembled to create some of the song titles, the album itself is a musical re-assemblage of component parts into possible but unforeseen new shapes. Adding harp from Irish harpist Una Monaghan, erhu, viola and violin from Turkish multi-instrumentalist Ulas Kurugullu, and electronic processes from Baltimore instrument builder Will Schorre, and Horse Lords wunderkind Max Eilbacher, the resulting arrangements constantly toy with scale as they move from the close-mic-ing of ASMR and the intimacy of chamber music to the immensity of processed drones and oceanic field-recordings that close the album. Offering a "life review" of production styles, Regards / Uklony dla Boguslaw Schaeffer builds temporary shelters out of the panoramic wreckage of modernist composition, sixties tape music, seventies dub, eighties industrial music, nineties postrock and dark ambient, 2000s era glitch fetishism, and contemporary post-everything collage sensibilities.

Matmos are one of the most prominent experimental electronic artists working today, crafting work by creating new conceptual frameworks & immediately testing those frameworks absolute limits. For Regards / Uklony dla Boguslaw Schaeffer they've focused on another artist known, in large part, for doing the same. Boguslaw Schaeffer was one of the first Polish artists creating electronic music. In step with American contemporaries like John Cage and Morton Feldman, he worked across the boundaries of classical composition, electronic experimentation, and radical theater in playfully form-breaking ways. Matmos are not the first ones to recognize the power of his catalog, from Solo (a 2008 documentary that garnered numerous international awards), to the annual Shaeffer's Era Festival (most recently celebrated simultaneously in Warsaw and Los Angeles) his work continues to inspire. Regards.. however, was not just inspired by his work, Matmos were given access to the entirity of Schaeffer's recorded works to use as they saw fit, commissioned by the prestigious Instytutu Adama Mickiewicza. They re-assembled & re-combined these recorded works with modern instrumentations in a way that only Matmos could, and what emerges is a composite portrait of the utopian 1960s Polish avant-garde and the contemporary dystopian cultural moment regarding each other across a distance. To facilitate the transcultural exchange that is the album's essential premise, all song titles and liner-notes are provided in both English and Polish. The album was mastered by Rashad Becker and features illustration and design by acclaimed artist Robert Beatty (Tame Impala, Osees, Mdou Moctar). Like the anagrams of the letters of Boguslaw Schaeffer's name that were re-assembled to create some of the song titles, the album itself is a musical re-assemblage of component parts into possible but unforeseen new shapes. Adding harp from Irish harpist Una Monaghan, erhu, viola and violin from Turkish multi-instrumentalist Ulas Kurugullu, and electronic processes from Baltimore instrument builder Will Schorre, and Horse Lords wunderkind Max Eilbacher, the resulting arrangements constantly toy with scale as they move from the close-mic-ing of ASMR and the intimacy of chamber music to the immensity of processed drones and oceanic field-recordings that close the album. Offering a "life review" of production styles, Regards / Uklony dla Boguslaw Schaeffer builds temporary shelters out of the panoramic wreckage of modernist composition, sixties tape music, seventies dub, eighties industrial music, nineties postrock and dark ambient, 2000s era glitch fetishism, and contemporary post-everything collage sensibilities.

What if music had no beginning, no end Can music exist 'for itself' or 'of itself,' without structure constraining it, defining it Can music be non-linear, non-narrative, simply experiential, existential The second full-length album on Mysteries of the Deep, Musica Enterrada from Portland's William Selman, neither answers these questions nor supposes them. But in listening, one can't help but wonder: What if I disappeared into this record forever In another time and place, William Selman was known as Warmdesk, an alias through which he issued a series of sharply precise minimal techno records. In recent past, Selman shifted gears, shedding the dynamics of tension and release that characterized his previous alias' output. Under his own name, Selman began releasing process-oriented, freeform experimental music on cassette-focused outlets like Digitalis and Hausu Mountain. Now comes Musica Enterrada, a diaphanous, weightless musical vision not unlike the theoretical square root of GRM and Popol Vuh's early electronic forays. Split into six tracks across two sides of vinyl, Musica Enterrada bubbles, churns, drifts, and dozes. Dulcet tones pile up gently like waves on shore. Patterns repeat and reconfigure, as if heard from different angles. Rhythms appear, shift the frame, then disappear, into the ether whence they came. Play Musica Enterrada on repeat. And if you disappear into it, fret not — you have drifted into solace.

Kicking off proceedings on new label, Scene Unseen is Yorkshire’s finest, Jinjé a.k.a. Lee J Malcolm.

Scene Unseen will focus on exploring and showcasing scenes from around the world (some seen or some maybe unseen), as well as releasing music from artists who incorporate sounds from across the globe within a music style that's closer to home. This is where Jinjé steps in, delivering an EP of Afro-funk and Afro-tech. He draws upon his usual duties as a fine Techno, House and Electronica producer and combines them with rhythms inspired by African and Indian music, using instruments (played and recorded live by Jinjé) and field recordings from both regions.

Jinjé (Lee J Malcolm) has released on labels such as Messrs. Kicks & Drums, EPM Music, Mesh and Ostgut Ton. He was also a founding member and mainstay in the Leeds band, Vessels (Different Recordings), until leaving a couple of years ago to concentrate on solo projects.

The track names tell all, as Jinjé gives a clear nod to the Africanism is his music. First track, 'Ngoma' is a name used across Africa to describe certain drums and percussive instruments, which can be heard here, like Djembes from the Conga region, as well as live and acoustic components, blended with modular and other electronic sounds.

'Burkina Faso' takes us west and hits the ground running with a vocal sample of Tribal women from the area, singing praise and joy to engineers who have come to provide fresh water to the village: "Praise God for they have come to build us a well." The progression of the track is based around this joy and develops nicely alongside some intense bass and drums.

'Dusk' is inspired by thoughts of the Serengeti planes at night fall, all built around Jinjé's live M'bira plugged into a modular synth, grouped with live flute and field recordings from India which provide additional percussion.

'Ya Maji' is a collection of high energy rhythms from a Moroccan frame drum, congas, clapping, live bass, distorted marimba and the mighty Korg Ms20 playing the lead synth lines.

Last up is 'Jara', a nod to Steve Reich and his six marimbas, as well as drawing inspiration from Fela Kuti. Vocal samples bring in more of the field recordings Jinjé made in India, as well as the clapping elements. Acoustic and electronic sounds intertwine to great effect and sum up the EP as a whole.

Look out for more from Jinjé in this musical direction as he seeks to bring these tracks and future ones to a live band setup.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

Strictly limited to 10,000 numbered copies, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and mastered from the original master tapes, Mobile Fidelity's ultra-hi-fi UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP collector's edition enhances the blockbuster work for today – and the ages to come. Surpassing the sonics of any prior version, it peels away any remaining limitations to provide a transparent, lively, ultra-nuanced presentation of a record that won six Grammy Awards – including prizes for Album of the Year, Best Male Rock Vocal Performance, and Best Rock Song. The expanse and depth of the soundstage, fullness of tones, natural snap and extension of the guitar strings, realistic rise and decay of individual notes, and roll of Clapton's vocals all attain demonstration-grade levels.

Housed in a deluxe box, the UD1S Unplugged pressing features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording and the reissue's premium quality. No expense has been spared. Aurally and visually, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artifact meant to be preserved, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the images to the finishes.

Truly, everything about Unplugged matters. Having sold more than 10 million copies in the U.S. and more than 26 million copies worldwide, the 1992 work resonates with listeners of all generations and speaks a universal language. Recorded for MTV before a very small audience on January 16, 1992, the 14-track set became the signpost for future acoustic-based endeavours that witnessed artists of all stripes re-examining their catalogues and, in many instances, as Clapton does here, placing familiar originals in fresh contexts and unveiling spirited versions of cover material. Needless to say, Clapton's session turned MTV's series into can't-miss programming for which the likes of Rod Stewart, Tony Bennett, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and more would soon participate.

Kicking off his performance with a spirited instrumental to establish the mood, Clapton immediately wades into the style that originally caught his attention as a British teenager in the early 1960s: American blues. Backed by a superb band that includes guitarist Andy Fairweather Low, pianist Chuck Leavell, bassist Nathan East, and drummer Steve Ferrone, Slowhand delivers a rhythmic, toe-tapping rendition of Bo Diddley's "Before You Accuse Me" that announces he's come to reconnect with his muse. What follows over the course of nearly the next hour stirs the heart, shakes the soul, moves the mind, and invigorates the senses.

Of course, there's no talking about Unplugged without keying in on "Tears in Heaven," the striking ballad Clapton penned about the death of his four-year-old son. More emotional, direct, spare, and healing than the studio version released a year prior, it crackles with an intimacy, maturity, poignancy, honesty, sweetness, and integrity that inform the entire concert. Indeed, how Clapton frames other favorites here – transforming "Layla" into a relaxed, comfortable stroll and ruminating on the seasoned ripples flowing throughout "Old Love," for example – indicate both a creative rebirth and gleeful acceptance of the next phase of his career.

And that very direction (two of Clapton's next three albums would be all-blues projects) is what really makes Unplugged so indispensable. Equivalent in mastery if not in volume to the output that earned him his "God" nickname, interpretations of Jesse Fuller's "San Francisco Bay Blues" (complete with kazoo!), Big Bill Broonzy's "Hey Hey," Robert Johnson's "Walkin' Blues" and "Malted Milk," and Muddy Waters' "Rollin' & Tumblin'" showcase a learned professor in his element and all the wheels turning.

In every regard, Clapton's Unplugged session was appointment listening when it came out in August 1992. With the arrival of MoFi's UD1S pressing, that sensation is more urgent than before.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior

Instead of utilizing the industry-standard three-step lacquer process, Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's new UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) uses only one step, bypassing two processes of generational loss. While three-step processing is designed for optimum yield and efficiency, UD1S is created for the ultimate in sound quality. Just as Mobile Fidelity pioneered the UHQR (Ultra High-Quality Record) with JVC in the 1980s, UD1S again represents another state-of-the-art advance in the record-manufacturing process. MFSL engineers begin with the original master tapes and meticulously cut a set of lacquers. These lacquers are used to create a very fragile, pristine UD1S stamper called a "convert." Delicate "converts" are then formed into the actual record stampers, producing a final product that literally and figuratively brings you closer to the music. By skipping the additional steps of pulling another positive and an additional negative, as done in the three-step process used in standard pressings, UD1S produces a final LP with the lowest noise floor possible today. The removal of the additional two steps of generational loss in the plating process reveals tremendous amounts of extra musical detail and dynamics, which are otherwise lost due to the standard copying process. The exclusive nature of these very limited pressings guarantees that every UD1S pressing serves as an immaculate replica of the lacquer sourced directly from the original master tape. Every conceivable aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the most perfect record album available today.

MoFi SuperVinyl

Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.



SACD



Mastered from the original master tapes, Mobile Fidelity's numbered hybrid SACD enhances the blockbuster work for today – and the ages to come. Peeling away remaining sonic limitations to provide a transparent, lively, ultra-nuanced presentation of a record that won six Grammy Awards (including prizes for Album of the Year, Best Male Rock Vocal Performance, and Best Rock Song), it places Clapton and company in your room. The expanse and depth of the soundstage, fullness of tones, natural snap and extension of the guitar strings, realistic rise and decay of individual notes, and roll of Clapton's vocals all attain demonstration-grade levels. A perennial audiophile favourite, Unplugged now tosses its hat into the ring as a demonstration disc.

Reuben's Daughters is not a band, it's a name for all of the musical works by Reuben Myles Tyghe, a pure product of Bath's musical scene. Reuben performs solo, write and record albums featuring a wide pool of guests, collaborate with other artists, has a six piece live band... it's all Reuben's Daughters. The daughters part of the name allows all of his musical endeavours to have a fluidity... And the album is full of this light and smotth fluidity that gets directly to the listener's hear without fighting it. Or, in the words of Keely Stoltz: "“Playful and adventurous pop where solid grooves undulate underneath technicolor island slide guitars. Who knew some of the sunniest new music in the world could be crafted in the southwest of England?”

Recorded in 1991 by the quintet of vocalist Billie Ray Martin and Birmingham-based electronic musicians Brian Nordhoff, Joe Stevens, Les Fleming and Roberto Cimarosti, Electribal Soul was conceived as the sequel to the band’s 1990 debut album, Electribal Memories.
Electribal Memories had yielded the hits ‘Talking With Myself’ and ‘Tell Me When The Fever Ended’ and pushed Electribe 101 to the forefront of a crossover electronic scene that fused dance music with pop savvy. They were snapped up by Phonogram, managed by Tom Watkins and hailed as “the next band to meet the Queen” by i-D. The band took the coveted support slot for Depeche Mode on their epochal World Violation tour and supported Erasure at Milton Keynes Bowl. Seen as the next big thing, everything pointed toward enduring critical success for Electribe 101, and the band settled into putting their second album together.
“There was a degree of confidence among us when we came to write the second album,” recalls Billie Ray Martin. “To me, the songs we put down sound like some of our finest moments.” More immediately lush and warm than the dancefloor-friendly structures of Electribal Memories, the clue to the sound of Electribal Soul lies in the second word in its title: soul. Songs like the aching sensuality of opening track ‘Insatiable Love’ or the emboldened defiance of ‘Moving Downtown’ showcase Billie Ray Martin’s distinctive vocal range as it moves from haunting quiet to dramatic, euphoric rapture. Lyrics from ‘Moving Downtown’ had found their way into ‘Pimps, Pushers, Prostitutes’ by S’Express, and the song would appear as ‘Running Around Town’ on Martin’s 1996 solo album. The strikingproduction on the version of the song presented on Electribal Soul suggests classic late sixties soul influences, such as those of legendary Motown producer Norman Whitfield, with the long shadow cast by Kraftwerk never being far away.
‘Deadline For My Memories’, the song that provided the title for Martin’s first solo album, was originally intended for the second Electribe 101 album. Its lyrics document a sense of freedom and liberation from the darkness of a bad relationship, accompanied by jazzy piano and organ sounds over a quiet rhythm and discrete electronics. In contrast, ‘A Sigh Won’t Do’ finds Martin in soothing vocal mode, despite its devastating message about the final ending of a strained relationship, her lyrics framed by restrained and subtle beats and sounds.
To spend time with Martin’s voice on Electribal Soul is to find yourself moved deep into the ordinarily impenetrable emotional corners of your own psyche. “I was into big ballads at the time and listening to all kinds of US and UK singers, and I was also young enough to want to prove myself as a belter of ballads,” explains Martin of the classic soul edge the album showcased.
Electribal Soul heads into darker territory with ‘Hands Up And Amen’. Originally written by Martin in Berlin in the period before moving to London and forming Electribe 101, the song was then perfected and enhanced by the band’s production nous. ‘Hands Up And Amen’ savagely documents the mugging of a woman in Queens, NY at gunpoint, only to resolve itself with a middle section that nods reverently toward gospel tradition. The song coalesces around a regimented break and burbling synths, finally ending with layers of urgent synth sounds.
Meanwhile, a cover of Throbbing Gristle’s ‘Persuasion’ takes us into a seedy world of sexual coercion and creepy infatuation, predating Martin’s chilling version of the track with progressive house unit Spooky two years later. Supported by a minimal, nagging rhythm and barely-fluctuating sounds, Electribe 101’s take on ‘Persuasion’ makes for uneasy listening, even though Martin manages to inject a sort of twisted sympathy for the protagonist as the song progresses.
That Electribe 101 were as comfortable offering complicated, nuanced tracks like ‘Persuasion’ alongside pop house bangers like ‘Space Oasis’ – written by Billie Ray Martin with Martin King before Electribe 101 was formed – is testament to the way the band wove their way effortlessly through electronic music reference points. Framed by light, jazzy piano melodies and string sounds, the energy of ‘Space Oasis’ soars so high that it could easily reach the moon, while highlighting how well-suited Martin’s voice has always been to club music. We hear the same reminder of her dance music credentials on ‘True Memories Of My World’, finding her describing a Hollywood actress who reflects on being used by directors to sell her ‘tears’.
Hooking up with the Birmingham-based Nordhoff, Stevens, Fleming and Cimarosti after placing a Melody Maker ad in 1988 (“Soul rebel seeks musicians – genius only”), it was clear that Martin had found a group that recognised the unique power and importance of her voice. Having worked with genres as diverse as reggae, rock and R&B, the four producers proved to be perfect collaborators, presenting carefully-sculpted backdrops that emphasised the towering emotional dexterity of her voice.
“Listening back to these tracks now, I was reminded of what a bunch of great musicians they were,” says Martin. “They had a rule that if a part still sounded good after a day or two then it could stay. If it bothered the vocals, it would go.” Even more so than on Electribal Memories, Electribal Soul places Martin at the captivating centre of these pieces, surrounding her voice with everything from dubby rhythms to chunky R&B beats to nascent trip hop breaks; wiry, acid-hued synths uncoil gently without ever dominating, while horn samples and lush, disco-inflected strings provide a rich, naturalistic accompaniment for Martin’s emotional outpourings.
The band finished mixing the album at London’s Olympic Studios in 1991. They were assisted by Apollo 440’s Howard Gray on production duties for ‘Deadline For My Memories’, ‘Insatiable Love’ and ‘Space Oasis’, with Gray supported by talented engineer Al Stone. Pre-release promo tapes were issued and an enthusiastic energy started to build around the band’s anticipated second album.
It was not meant to be. Against a backdrop of a worsening relationship with Tom Watkins, and a disinterested Phonogram, instead of receiving a positive reaction to the new tracks, Electribe 101 were swiftly dropped by their label. Electribal Soul languished, unreleased, and the band yielded to pressures that had been building and split up. After collaborating with Spooky and The Grid, Billie Ray Martin went on to release her seminal debut solo album in 1996, with it securing the era-defining hit ‘Your Loving Arms’, while the other group members continued to work together as The Groove Corporation.
Thirty years after the songs were recorded, we’re now finally able to hear what the second and final chapter of Electribe 101’s story sounded like. Electribal Soul shows that the band had really only just got started when they dropped their first album in 1990. Heard only by a select and privileged few, what followed elevated the band’s music to a completely new level, making Electribal Soul musical buried treasure of the most precious and rare variety.
Electribal Soul will be released on LP, CD and digital formats on 18th February 2022 through Electribal Records. The physical formats include extensive liner notes from Billie Ray Martin, and the album sleeve features unseen archive photographs by Lewis Mulatero from the original 1990 sessions with the band that were never used in the sleeve designs for Electribal Memories.

Six years on since his latest appearance on the label's main series, Stroboscopic Artefacts boss Luca Mortellaro, aka Lucy, returns with 'Dyscamupia' - an introspective, multisensory techno triptych revolving around the core sequence of Albert Camus' classic existentialist novel, 'The Stranger'. Also known as the 'killing of an arab', this pivotal moment in Camus' seminal book - which also inspired The Cure their song 'Killing An Arab' back in the day, is here evoked through three variedly intense, deep and hypnotic techno variations - flexing from 120 to 130, onto 140 BPM - each of them translating a particular step in the author's minute, focal-shifting depiction of the unknown man's murder on the beach.

Embodying Meursault for a minute, Jason Snell lends his voice to the narrator and his inner demons, casting a strange, ominous spell on the club and its crowd. Willing to explore and dig up further into the textural wealth and crucial warmth of organic sounds and synthetic treatments, Lucy made wise use of the binaural microphones technology during the vocals recording process, greatly enhancing the immersive force of his compositions to create thoughtful, dystopic narrative bubbles that stand in their own right.
The first number, ' Dyscamupia (Forward)', happens before and right until the actual killing - hence time flowing at a metronomic, heartbeat-like tempo; the second cut 'Dyscamupia (Pause)' takes place right after the nameless man's death, when the narrator enters a kind of existential 'pause' and a whole new flow of consciousness begins; the third sequence, 'Dyscamupia (Backward)', plumbs the depths of the action itself as played backwards, like an equally hazed-out and dizzying reminiscence of the sad encounter's mechanism. Don't let its seemingly conceptual framework fool you though, like most of his past output 'Dyscamupia' also aims to bring dancefloors to a steady simmer, whilst maintaining Lucy's ascending momentum towards an all-round genre-busting, thought-provoking apex.

Fine Place is a new duo comprising Frankie Rose (Vivian Girls, Crystal Stilts, Dum Dum Girls) and Matthew Hord (Running, Pop. 1280, Brandy). Based in Brooklyn, NYC together they’ve crafted a crystalline full length of nocturnal, electronic pop music that charts a way out the post-global, cyberpunk dystopian environment it was crafted in. Their debut album This New Heaven drenches minimalist song structures in post-industrial washes of sixstring delay and gothic post-punk synths. Presiding over it is the most evocative, emotive vocal performance Frankie
Rose has committed to tape to date.

Following Hord’s relocation from Chicago, the pair wanted to explore new avenues apart from their respective bands or solo projects. “The sound we were going for was an attempt to capture the dystopian feel of New York during a period of desertion by the wealthy. It was produced in a time-frame saturated in both uncertainty and serenity, and the soundscapes we created felt fitting and almost organic as a response to our surroundings. The title also reflects this in an arguably literal, maybe even satirical way.” Sonically, Fine Place references the pioneering mid-to-late 80s pioneers of icy melodrama The Cure and Cocteau Twins, while reflecting both the individuals’; music trajectories thus far. Modular synthesis triggers rhythm boxes and fluttery arps chirp around clanging 808-patterning as Rose’s reverb-laden vocal layering envelops the remaining headroom. The result is massive; a towering, shadowy music that embraces darkness while offering Rose’s bright vocal as chinks of light in the cracks; the production filling the head space of the beholder with preternatural imagery and emotional resonances that are real but not quite defined.

The title song propels forth out of the fog, scintillating with delayed guitar before the reverb-immersed vocal injects the human drama. The chorus constantly teases a big release but holds back creating a taut, dynamic tension. Cover Blind’s slow march makes full use of Rose’s layered vocal sinking and emerging from Hord’s bank of synths. Stand out It’s Your House is pure honey pouring from the speaker on a bank of of arps and near-hymnal vocal layering, a syrupy light offering in the mist. It’s an emotive highlight that only increases as the album progresses; Impressions Of Me is the Lynchian ballad that glides onward into the sunset. The album finishes on a choice re-interpretation of the 1989 track The Party Is Over by Belgian group Adult Fantasies, one of the great over-looked ballads of the era given an almost ecclesiastical makeover by Matthew Hord and Frankie Rose in 2021.

Says Hord: “This record was an incredibly challenging endeavor to make, as I had just come home from a European tour with another music project and wanted to invest into and focus on this collaboration with Frankie. I essentially reimagined how to approach writing basic sequences with the synthesizers I had been rehearsing and performing with for months prior to make something more accessible and pop- like for Frankie to build upon. Frankie is an unsung hero when it comes to mixing, and she was constantly mixing down and processing elements of the tracks to create different atmospheres as we forged forward with every song.”

This New Heaven is an ecstasy of sorts, a half-dream in the border between sleep and daylight.

Originally hailing from Scotland, now based in Copenhagen, Numbers present 23-year old producer and deejay Perko with his debut release NV Auto.

The six tracks on this EP hear Perko mining the grooves between his favourite genres for building blocks of inspiration. Drawing from UK soundsystem culture and modern experimental music, half of the record explores deeper atmospheric passages and meditative repetition, characterised by layers of subtly shifting chords, field recordings and delicate polyrhythms.

Three dancefloor cuts, spread throughout the rest of the record, retain this detail and interplay with added energy. Perko's sense of rhythm & space is clear with 'Rounded's glacial synths, blown out drum machines and sculpted sub sine waves. 'What Otters' forges playful UKG touches within a paperclip framework of space-echoes and sparks, whilst 'Songbirds' flips into 4/4 drive with percolated alarms and shimmering pads.

'Density, Noise, Dust, Distortion, Space...' says Perko, if you want it simple.

To write these few lines, we spoke to saxophonist François Jeanneau, an old friend of Jacques Thollot who also played on several of his albums, including the “Watch Devil Go” which interests us here. He told us a story which, according to him, sums up the personality of Thollot. A noted studio had reserved three days for a Thollot recording session. The first morning was devoted to sound checks and putting some order in the score sheets which Jacques would hand out in a somewhat anarchic manner. Then everyone went for lunch. When the musicians returned to the studio, Thollot had disappeared. He wasn’t seen again for the three days. When he reappeared, he had already forgotten why he had left, The music of Jacques Thollot is in the image of its’ author: it takes you somewhere, suddenly escapes and disappears, returning in an unexpected place as if nothing had happened.

Four years after a first album on the Futura label in 1971, Jacques Thollot returned, this time on the Palm label of Jef Gilson, still with just as much surrealist poetry in his jazz. In thirty-five minutes and a few seconds, the French composer and drummer, who had been on the scene since he was thirteen, established himself as a link between Arnold Schoenberg and Don Cherry. Resistant to any imposed framework and always excessive, Thollot allows himself to do anything and everything: suspended time of an extraordinary delicacy, a stealthy explosion of the brass section, hallucinatory improvisation of the synthesisers, tight writing, teetering on the classical, and in the middle of all that, a hit; the title-track - that Madlib would one day end up hearing and sampling.

“Watch Devil Go” was in the right place in the Palm catalogue, which welcomed the cream of the French avant-garde in the 70s. But it is also the story of a long friendship between two men. Jacques Thollot and Jef Gilson had known and respected one another for a long time. Though barely sixteen years old, Thollot was already on drums on the first albums by Gilson starting in 1963 and would play in his big band (alongside François Jeanneau once again), ‘Europamerica’, until the end of the 70s.

In a career lasting half a century and centred on freedom Jacques Thollot played with the most important experimental musicians (Don Cherry, Sonny Sharrock, Michel Roques, Barney Wilen, Steve Lacy, François Tusques, Michel Portal, Jac Berrocal, Noël Akchoté...) and they all heard in him a pulsation coming from another world. (Jérôme "Kalcha" Simonneau)

Germany-based metal band OBSCURA launch trilogy concept on stunning new album “A Valediction”. The group’s first (sixth overall) album for Nuclear Blast pivots on many fronts. Advanced, elegant, and yet refreshing, “A Valediction” sums up past endeavors effortlessly as it gazes with purpose and conviction into the future. OBSCURA are fan-renowned and critically acclaimed for challenging and then expanding upon norms. From “Cosmogenesis” (2009) through “Diluvium” (2018), the band flourished and made significant progress in a musical genre unprepared for a creative shot of German invention. “A Valediction” spearheads OBSCURA into a new era of extreme metal.

Guitarist/vocalist Steffen Kummerer founded OBSCURA in 2002. Early on, he set out to improve, redefine, and push forward. Under his self-label creation, the Bavarian released debut album “Retribution” (2006), followed by heavy touring throughout Europe. Word quickly spread that a brand-new band from the south of Germany was on the rise. Buzz lead to a deal with U.S.-based Relapse Records. The first record out was “Cosmogenesis”. In Europe, Metal Hammer Germany awarded the album 6/7 while in the U.S., “Cosmogenesis” hit the Billboard charts at #71. The cross-continental praise and fevered momentum landed OBSCURA on high-profile tours in Europe, North America, and Japan.

When follow-up “Omnivium” arrived in 2011, they upped their chart success (Billboard #11; Media Control #14), received more accolades from publications like Terrorizer, Rock Hard, and Decibel, had another massive round-world tour cycle, while enhancing and making progress on their clever brutality. OBSCURA further developed their sound on “Akróasis” (2016). Moored by jaw-dropping tracks like ‘Sermon of the Seven Suns,’ ‘Ode to the Sun,’ and the title track, “Akróasis” elevated OBSCURA to the highest levels of international renown, having climbed up the Billboard charts (#5) as well as earning top marks in Rock Hard (8.5/10), Metal Hammer Germany (6/7), and Revolver (4/5). The Germans toured the world yet again, playing over 100 shows in support of “Akróasis”.

OBSCURA’s most significant accomplishment was, however, just around the corner. The final part of a tetralogy, “Diluvium” (2018), fiercely pursued OBSCURA’s multi-album transformation into musical innovators and metal powerhouses. Music videos for the title track, ‘Emergent Evolution’ and ‘Mortification of the Vulgar Sun,’ in concert with a substantial interest in virtuosic, forward-thinking metal, posited OBSCURA in the good graces (yet again) of the worldwide press in addition to rocketing up, for the very first time, the official album charts in Germany (#58) and Switzerland (#93). The Germans also topped out at #3 on the Billboard Heatseekers chart with “Diluvium”.

OBSCURA‘s stats have been impressive: Twenty years active; six highly prized albums; over 600 shows on four continents. Worldwide fan and press engagement—the videos for ‘The Anticosmic Overload,’ ‘Akróasis,’ and ‘Diluvium’ have over 4.5 million views—is only getting stronger the longer OBSCURA continue to offer up and interact with (via play-throughs and member/gear spotlights) their very captive audience. This is only the tip of Kummerer’s custom ESP guitar, however. A Valediction finds OBSCURA turning the page to a new chapter in the band’s evolution. A year in the works, the songwriting sessions followed a new approach, where the framework was relaxed, allowing new inspirations, imagining, and opportunities to arise. Songs like the opening epic ‘Forsaken,’ the '80s-tinted ‘When Stars Collide’ (featuring Soilwork/The Night Flight Orchestra frontman Björn Strid), the brutal groove of ‘Devoured Usurper,’ the ethereal artistry of ‘Heritage,’ and the fleet-fingered title track benefitted compositionally (refined structures) and aesthetically (more dynamism) from OBSCURA’s restyled songwriting stratagem.

OBSCURA wrote, recorded, and finalized “A Valediction” during the pandemic. The stipulations of working during this time allowed OBSCURA to work cross-country, tracking each respective part—drums, guitar, and bass—in national studios across The Netherlands, Austria, and Germany. Once the pieces were completed, the recordings were shipped off to award-winning producer Fredrik Nordström and Studio Fredman (In Flames, Architects) in Gothenburg, Sweden, where Kummerer and Münzner completed vocals and acoustic guitars using custom-built ENGL amps. Nordström was also tapped to mix and master. The final result is a deeper, heavier, yet more rounded production.

Lyrically, “A Valediction” is layered in structure and meaning. The word ‘valediction,’ by definition, deals with goodbyes and farewells. In a way, this is auf wiedersehen to the four-part album series while also addressing complex topics of Kummerer’s personal life. Instead of obscuring issues of loss, death, and abandonment in metaphor and allusion, the German laid bare his torment across songs like ‘Forsaken,’ ‘Solaris,’ ‘In Unity,’ ‘The Neuromancer,’ and ‘In Adversity.’ But for every line of desperation, he also offers positivity. Indeed, new beginnings—physical, emotional, or environmental—can provide light in the darkness. Lauded artist Eliran Kantor (Testament, Helloween) was brought on board to visualize the leitmotif. The bronze-themed colourway Kantor used exemplifies OBSCURA’s resistance to individual and sonic corrosion.

In 2021, OBSCURA will lighthouse their musical prowess, thematic complexity, and lyrical ambition on “A Valediction”. The group continue to be a beacon for change. No doubt OBSCURA’s new stats will amaze, but what they’re focused on is the release of “A Valediction” and then taking it on the road. Several high-caliber tours of Europe, North America, and Asia are planned through to 2023, with routes are in the works for the band to visit Australia, South America, and beyond. Truly, there is no band quite like OBSCURA. “A Valediction” proves that persistence, perseverance, and enterprising minds can achieve anything. Welcome to the next level!

“Einsteigen Bitte!”

After more than six years of collaboration between label and artist, Feines Tier and Luca Musto bring to you the highly anticipated first full length LP “Nice Place, Bad Intentions”.

Musto’s first LP “Nice Place Bad Intentions” departs from the conventional 4/4 time signature. Instead, the album’s structure and the tracks themselves are reminiscent of a 1990s/2000s Hip Hop long play release. This becomes evident in the fact that the LP not only features 17 tracks, including skits and interludes, but also that they make up the framework of a conceptual album. Here, listeners will be encouraged to follow the track list and listen to “Nice Place, Bad Intentions” in one go.

“Nice Place, Bad Intentions” was produced over a period of 1,5 years. Besides the majority being original samples and vocals from Luca Musto, the LP also features a number of studio musicians, including bass players, trumpeters and guitarists. Cologne-based guitarist Simon Bahr can be found on several tracks, including the three singles “Infiltrate”, “Boogie Angst” and “Real Name, No Gimmicks”. Moreover, the skits and interludes are spoken by professional voice actors from the US and Canada.

The Berlin-themed album follows the characters Mick and Richie, who are all about partying and come to the city for one weekend in hopes to have the time of their lives. When the characters’ expectations meet reality, their naiveté (or bad intentions) lead them to getting screwed, robbed and even arrested. These stories about their journey through Germany’s capital are found in the interludes and skits. Listeners can follow them passing infamous places and metro stations in the city based on sampled BVG announcements, which gives the album a radio play vibe.

Sound-wise, Luca Musto’s unique sounds include scratched hooks that meet original lyrics and melodies, resulting in distinctive genre-bending tunes. As Mick and Richie stumble through some of Berlin’s most in-famous places, their expectations repeatedly clash with the reality of the capital’s nightlife. Similarly the liste-ners’ expectations are twisted and turned. Yet, the soundtrack underlining the characters’ journey never disappoints and brings its listeners on a rhythmic trip of old and new sounds. From rapping on downtempo as in “City of Grind” to merging the classic structure of electronic music with funky guitar licks and unconventional chord transitions as in “Infiltrate”, the LP feels at once like a daring experiment and like the beginning of a developing new genre.

Shūko No Omit is a trio of Yonju Miyaoka on guitars and vocals, Yuya Oishi on drums, and Taiju Sugimori on bass: a classic framework for a rock band, and yet...

Led by Yonju Miyaoka, a young prolific musician from Osaka who lives with schizophrenia, Shūko No Omit could have found a home in the P.S.F. records catalogue curated by the late Hideo Ikeezumi, sitting alongside Go Hirano, Tori Kudo, Chie Mukai / Ché Shizu, and Kousokuya. Yonju Miyaoka's music seems haunted by the psychedelic rock of the late seventies, by its electric, solitary ghost minstrels, perhaps also inhabited by the impulsive riffs of no-wave.

His voice can sound slightly out of tune to the western ear, on the edge, and maybe this is what makes it so terribly moving. His guitar seems to be soaked in the same acid as poured out by the amplifiers of Keiji Haino or Takashi Mizutani, a mercurial grain, a wild and inhabited psychedelia. The compositions crawl towards their ends in a reptilian, winding way, in a mud of saturation and distortion, almost overlaying like tracing paper sheets, in a disordered manner. These six tracks evoke inner collapse, loss, expectations and oblivion.

Like his elders, Miyaoka shows a nonchalant, almost dilettantish way of building songs, preferring a chipped body, the trace of a conundrum disorder, to schoolboy academic perfection.

This album is a long improvisation with a punctured, dismembered body, thrown in here like a bucket full of viscera, and reassembled in an alternate fashion. Miyaoka lies there, naked.

xpressed by synthetic voices, they present a futuristic take on modern electronic music.
Lush sounds of classic analog synths, modular drum machines, and digital sources merge into unheard soundscapes within their voltage driven root system. Six tracks combining various paths of the electronic landform into a musical journey framed by Kris Wellings’
uncanny chants. Garden Scene is a trip from the aesthetics of Detroit electro to complexity of IDM to harmonic outbursts from the abyss of contemporary pop culture.

Limited edition of 12′ vinyl release. Presents its sixth vinyl release with an interesting collaboration between a contemporary project such as Dot Product, the tandem formed by Adam Winchester and Christopher Jarman, and the Japanese legend of experimental rock and noise Kazuyuki Kishino. Known as KK Null, this artist had a first stage as a guitarist in several bands, it is worth remembering that at that time he collaborated with Merzbow in several albums and that years later he changed the guitar for electronic devices. 404 Not Found opens side A with a first cut by the English duo. Error Message combines grainy, strummed textures with a humanized sonic profile in which a beautiful melody makes its way in the face of bleak adversity. The second cut of this side is by KK Null, in this track the Japanese artist shows a high dose of metallic sounds that travel at the free will of the author to end up yielding in front of a complex and disorderly structured rhythm. Unlike side A, side B of this EP shows a work created jointly by Dot Product and KK Null. Pause Frames is an industrial cut, with hard percussion and numerous sound patterns such as pads, strong resonances and highly saturated components. 10-4-10-409-Conflict is the fourth and final track on the release, again employing a hard-hitting rhythm with a series of crunchy textures and a harmonic conjugation of dissonant chords. Picture: Stefan Alt / Salt (Ant-Zen) Mastered: Daniele Antezza / Dadub Written: Kazuyuki Kishino, Adam Winchester and Chris Jarman

neon candy vinyl incl. 24"x12" poster

To Sonic Boom’s Pete Kember, re-imagining the past can lead to ways forward on life’s natural, interconnected path. In April of 2020, he released his first album in over 20 years called All Things Being Equal, a lush and psychedelic record full of interwoven synthesizers and droning vocal melodies, concerned with the state of humanity and the natural world. An entire year later, Kember has re-imagined his last release and created an album of self-remixed tracks called Almost Nothing Is Nearly Enough, inspired by the spirit of late 70s, early 80s records by artists like Kraftwerk, Blondie and Eddy Grant. His new album is hypnotic and moody, holding onto the existential framework of the original, but exposes a fresh, beating realm of possibility.

In his last album, All Things Being Equal, Kember told regenerative stories backwards and forwards as he explored dichotomies zen and fearsome, reverential of his analog toolkit and protective of the plants and trees that support our lives. His work is always complex, both in its instrumentation built using modular synthesizers, and with his attempts to observe the many variables that exist in the universe that are intrinsically connected. Kember takes his existential and musical curiosity even further in Almost Nothing Is Nearly Enough, explaining “how we interact now is especially critical.” Written while the world endures many environmental and human crises, the album is both a balm and a reminder to nurture our own relationships, both natural and personal.

Almost Nothing Is Nearly Enough includes remixes of six tracks from All Things Being Equaland two tracks previously released exclusively in Japan. The album opens just like the original, with “Just Imagine”in its remixed form. The modular synthesizer at its foundation sounds familiar, but as the song progresses it branches out into various veins of sparkling embellishments and deep humming to truly expand the world that the song attempts to envision. On the albums’title track “Almost Nothing Is Nearly Enough,” Kember’s instrumentation mirrors the interactions he wishes to inspire; synthesizers responding and building on one another, a conversation of sorts that the human world currently seems to avoid.

Almost Nothing Is Nearly Enough sets itself up to be a grooving, night-time record, while carrying on Sonic Boom’s sense of urgency to assess our relationship with the world. As Sonic Boom revisits his last album, he exposes the arteries and bones of his past work and shares its raw, exciting potential. The result is a re-textured and re-colored new set of songs, emphasizing Sonic Boom’s ability to make a sonically expansive album feel distinctly impactful for anyone who listens closely.

Be assured that even dawning on sixty and with a career spanning more than 30 years, Popa Chubby continues to fight against the injustices of this world !
And the least we can say about 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic is that it offered him the “magnificent” inspiration that fed into the creation of his new album “Tinfoil Hat”! As he writes himself, this record’s creation was self-evident from the beginning of the first lockdown in March.
Back at his base in the Hudson Valley and following his last show played in Florida, our man immediately wanted to send a message of empathy and support to his fans, and that’s how the song “Can I Call You My Friends?” was conceived. The reaction was so sudden, warm, and intense that he found there was enough material for continuing this “dialogue” by composing other songs that today form the framework for “Tinfoil Hat.”
The whole thing was entirely “homemade,” recorded and played by Popa Chubby with the extra Guts and Soul that great causes often bring to life. “Tinfoil Hat” and the 11 songs that make it up were born from a mixture of love, despair, fear, frustration, pain, joy, sorrow, resolution and the leap into the great unknown imposed by the coronavirus that has been with all of us all since last
March. The Trump administration’s chaotic and reckless management of the crisis provided Popa Chubby with the inspiration for uncompromising lyrics. Like those of the title song (supported by, to say the least, an explicit clip) or themes such as “You Ain’t Said Shit,” “No Justice, No Peace,” or “Another Day In Hell.”
Without forgetting to pass on messages of hope (“Someday Soon, Change Is Gonna Come”) or even for good behavior in the face of the virus with “Baby Put On Your Mask.” In the album notes, he writes, “Like all of you, this pandemic has pushed me to the very edge of my humanity. But the music, the sweet music, has put me back on the right path once again. So I offer this work with humility and the deep devotion I have for you!”. That says it all!

Steve Von Till has charted an extraordinary musical path over the last several decades, from his main duties as singer and guitarist of the boundary-breaking Neurosis to the psychedelic music of his Harvestman project and the gothic Americana he's released under his own name. But No Wilderness Deep Enough is truly like nothing you've ever heard from him before—an album that's devastatingly beautiful and overwhelming in its scope, reminiscent of the tragic ecstasy of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' recent work as well as the borderless ambient music pioneered by Brian Eno, late composer Jóhann Jóhannsson's glacial compositions, and the electronic mutations of Coil. 

FOR FANS OF : MARK LANEGAN/MICHAEL GIRA/NICK CAVE.

Over the course of recent time, an aching, growing void has developed where our normal way of life has resided. Uncertainty abounds, and Steve Von Till's No Wilderness Deep Enough provides a voice of existential wisdom and experience to offer comfort and perspective in an era of uncharted territory. These six pieces of music shape a hallucinatory landscape of sound that plumbs the depths of the natural world's mysteries and uncertainties—questions that have vexed humanity since the dawn of time asked anew amidst a backdrop that's as haunting as it is holistic.

Von Till’s fifth solo album is a swirling and iridescent blend of ambient, neo-classical, and gothic Americana that swan-dives into the darkness of modern life, with the resulting emergence a sonic document of rural psychedelia that transcends the physical world—towards a greater spiritual acceptance that connects naturalism, spiritualism, and the corporeal form.

With a foundation of simple melancholy piano chord progressions embellished with mellotron, cello, french horn and electronic treatments Von Till's scorched ache spreads across the terrain of No Wilderness Deep Enough like a brushfire, adding a tactile level to his sonic creation as well as an inviting level of friction to the burning beauty painted across the album's framework.

With a foundation of simple melancholy piano chord progressions that came to fruition during jetlagged nights in his wife’s childhood home in Germany, No Wilderness Deep Enough was further embellished with mellotron and electronic treatments in Von Till’s home studio in North Idaho.  Viewing the emerging result as an ambient instrumental album, he consulted friend and engineer Randall Dunn (Marissa Nadler, Earth) about adding live cello and french horn and piano in a proper studio.  After enlisting Brent Arnold on cello and Aaron Korn on french horn, he challenged Von Till to sing over the music and make it his next solo album—which is exactly what happened, with final work being completed at Tucker Martine’s (the Decemberists, Neko Case) Flora Recording and Playback in Portland.

"Art Is A Cat" is The Dining Rooms' eighth studio album - thirteenth if we also consider five remix and rework records - in over twenty years of career. It comes out five years after the fully instrumental "Do Hipsters Love Sun (Ra)?", and shows itself as a new milestone in the artistic path of the Milanese duo formed by Stefano Ghittoni and Cesare Malfatti.

In fact, "Art Is A Cat" hosts every facet of The Dining Rooms' music, mostly nourishing the intuitions delivered in past albums such as "Experiments in Ambient Soul" (2005) and "Ink" (2007). It preserves all the characteristics of their typical signature: songs balanced between folk and soul, dub expansions, instrumental hip hop and cinematic atmospheres. Not to renounce to any of these aspects and given the high quality of the recorded material, Stefano and Cesare decided not to sacrifice anything, and wrote and produced a 19-song full-length for a total duration of about sixty minutes.

"Art Is A Cat" also hosts a large group of guest singers, both historical voices of the band and absolute novelties, who also co-wrote the lyrics; the vocal parts are interspersed with the group's instrumental classics, from funk-fueled visionary downtempos to more experimental micro-songs. Sean Martin and Georgeanne Kalweit therefore return with two songs each (one of the two sung by Georgeanne has its lyrics written by Jake Reid, a London-based singer who already collaborated with The Dining Rooms in "Lonesome Traveler" in 2011).

Among the new entries we have, first of all, the Italian-Tunisian Rahma Hafsi on the sensual ballad "Little Girl" sung both in English and Arabic, while the very young Italian-Salvadoran Beatrice Velasco Moreno sings, together with Sean on backing vocals, the spoken-word "Teach Me To Dance", the spiritual "Sweet Love" and the title-track, an orchestral folk moment among the most inspired ones in the entire band's history; Lola Kola, queen of Tropicantesimo, also brings an absolute novelty in the world of The Dining Rooms, presenting for the first time an Italian-sung piece: "Nella Sua Loca Realtà", a post-melodic song dedicated to the fragility of love.

The vocal parts series ends with two episodes in which Stefano resumes his past as a singer (in the '80s with Peter Sellers & The Hollywood Party) with the Indian-flavoured "Ohm And Raga" and the existentialist ballad "She Says I'm Bad".

"Art Is A Cat" is therefore a complete and very fascinating album, destined to excite and leave its mark.

Part II The title of the project is: "An Intermediary Plane of Existence", an in-between world, a shadow zone, two universes, the place between the entrance and exit of a portal. Most electronic music producers probably know the feeling where they, after producing and recording a track they are extremely content with, are suddenly overcome with a slight fear: "what if my computer crashes, what if the file of the recording gets lost somehow and the music gets lost, it's gone forever...". That feeling and the fact that all music, ever written and even the music that has yet to be written, is "somewhere" when it's not
being played or made. It's either written down in notes, stored in
someone's mind, cut into a piece of vinyl, recorded on tape, converted into 0's and 1's hiding somewhere on a hard drive, a cloud, a CD or a USB stick. It's been taken form the place it was before it was made and stored in another place, in an intermediary plane of existence, waiting to be played, to come back to life and listened to again. We wanted to do this various artists album not with just any talented artist, but with people we've met the past years who became our friends and people we admire for their music and personalities. Friendship is also something that most of the time resides in an intermediary plane of existence. When a friend is not in the same room, city or even country it doesn't mean the friendship is not still there. If you've never even met
someone in person, it doesn't mean you can't be friends. Even if you haven't spoken to your friend for a long period of time, it doesn't mean the friendship doesn't exist anymore. The same goes for love I believe.
Some people you will never stop loving, alive, or dead. Both owners of P-RT-L lost their fathers within a week from each other last year, but I also know people who haven't seen or spoken to their dads or moms in over a year, yet somehow it feels completely different not seeing someone for a long time if you know a person is still alive, even though it's not sure you will ever see him or her again. Their dads went back to the place they were before they were born and they will never come back the way they knew them. Just like all music that went lost before we as humans had the ability to write it down, store it on a medium or pass it on otherwise. That exact music, just like their dads, is lost forever. I know this will probably sound a bit too philosophical for some of you readers, but it's something that keeps me awake at night, sometimes. This albums is a way for us to celebrate the fact that the music on it, will never be lost because we as humans have found a way to store and contain it in a place where we can easily reach it, for ever. We hope you will enjoy the music! P-RT-L Featuring artists: Alex Bau ,AnD,Anouk De Vos, D-Leria, Daniel Kane, Dasha Rush, Frame Six Micol Danieli

We are excited to release a 6-track EP from San Francisco based DJ, producer, and remixer Sepehr Alimagham. The San Jose native has been a fixture in the Bay Area house and techno scene for quite awhile now — on the dance-floor, behind the decks, in the studio, or all of the above. Early influences like Boards of Canada, Aphex Twin and post-hardcore bands later in high school started his affinity for off-kilter, underground music. In 2017 he began performing live PA sets, utilizing his immense production backlog to perform vivid and electric sets, from potent dance music to psychedelic and esoteric soundscapes.

"Body Mechanics" is six tracks of acid drenched dance music that ebb and flow from floor filling club thumpers to more cerebral soundscapes. Inspired by the new wave of the acid sound as well as nostalgia from his formative years in the San Francisco music scene, 'Body Mechanics' takes a functional, yet psychedelic approach to 303 styled techno and electronica. Attention demanding basslines, indiosyncratic structures and hallucinatory atmospheres provide an effective framework for Sepehr's vision. The themes of the track titles take root from a series of dreams Sepehr had with a common atmosphere of strange characters and textures, akin to scenes from David Lynch's 'Twin Peaks'. All songs have been mastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The vinyl comes housed in a jacket featuring a dark and inviting cyborg hand holding a rose designed by Nicole Ginelli.

Fast-moving Times, In Which Popularity And Quality Are Often Equated Or Commonly Confused With One Another, Aids And Abets This Imitation Game Some Call Conformity, Others Professionalism. In The End, Both Paths Will End Up In Predictability. Here's Where Stathis Kalatzis, Aka Mr. Statik, Comes To Play. The Resident At Athens' Multi-purpose Cultural Space Six D.o.g.s Has Not Only Been One Of The Scene's Pivotal Figures, But Since He Started To Release His First Solo Releases In The Mid-00s, The Now Berlin-based Greek Dj Has Earned A Reputation For Being A Trend-ignoring, Unconventional Producer.

Whether His Output For Bpitch Control, Rotary Cocktail, Or Even Last Year's Debut Ep "rogue
Cherub" For Away - Mr. Statik Enjoys Thinking Outside The Box By Crossing His Diverse Pop-cultural Interests And Pulling In Expertise And Perspective From Beyond The Usual Functional Formulas. After A Decade Of Not Staying In One Comfort Zone Or Sticking To One Musical Direction, He Finds Himself More Comfortable In His Producer Shoes Presenting His Debut Album "metamorphose". Housing A Few Film References In This For Mr. Statik Typical Nebulous Fashion, The Ten Tracks Not Only Carrying The Narrative Potential Of An Imaginary Score, But Primarily Exploring A Versatile Array Of Influences, Themes, And Contradictions (which Mr. Statik As An Illustrator Also United On The Albums' Artwork). Ranging From The Sci-fi Infused Album Opener "insomnia", The First Non-dancefloor Piece He Ever Produced Around 7 Years Ago, Over "atastrophe", An Homage To Ancient Greek Theater, To Collaborate With Others Such As Beatrice Ballabile, Jan Niklas Jansen (locas In Love), And Rbma Alumnus Claude Speeed, Who Contributed Synth Work On "soulfur".

"metamorphose" Succeeds In Constantly Changing Its Tones, While Maintaining An Emotional
Frame, In Which Mr. Statik's Melancholic, Introvert, At Times Hopeful And Euphoric, Bottom End
Inclined Electronic Music Can Elaborate.

Mr. Statik On His Album Debut:

"i Have Always Tried To Approach Producing As Storytelling Exercises. This Allowed Me To
Experiment Finding Myself In Uncharted Territories, More Specifically In Music That Doesn't
Necessarily Fit To A Dance Floor - Unless It's A Very Adventurous One. 'metamorphose'' Is Loyal To That Mindset. I Usually Draw Inspiration From Cinema And Comic Books And Have Always Been Fascinated With Sci-fi, South Asian Culture, Surrealism And The Dreamworld. Initially The Album Was Supposed To Be A Collage Of The Various Influences That Had Shaped My Life, But Ended Up Being Something Very Different. During The Conceptualization And Recording Process A Lot Of Things Around Us Have Changed, Primarily For The Worse. I Became More And More Sensitive And Susceptible To Pessimism And Trendy Visions Of 'dystopian Futurism', So That The Lp Emerged Being An Exercise In Positivity: 'metamorphose' Is A Verb Describing The Act Of
Conversion, But In Greeklish It Is Describes The Urge Towards Others To Start Transforming Their
Environment, In This Case For The Better."

»sichten« refers both to »opinions« as well as the »examination of material«. in lose sequence, we will invite friends and colleagues, but especially music lovers to share their opinions on music with us or to look through their collected materials in order to present music that tends to be out of the focus of current media channels. as a label for electronic music our focus is on examining exactly this genre. but in the context of the series, we are rather looking for more hidden, unknown, perhaps forgotten music. we want to present the yet undiscovered, and also offer a platform for other cultural environments with different musical approaches. each issue will be supervised and compiled by a curator. an introductory text shall explain the ar- tistic approach of the respective curator. in this sense, the format of a double lp can only provide a first insight and wants to invite to a more in-depth research. for the first issue of the series, »sichten 1«, we asked frank bretschneider to compile his own, very personal selection of current electronic music. his choice fell on six artists, whose different styles me- ander between accessible music on the one hand and very abstract compositions on the other hand.

"sichten" bezieht sich sowohl auf "Meinungen" als auch auf die "Auseinandersetzung mit dem Material". In loser Folge laden wir Freunde und Kollegen, vor allem aber Musikliebhaber ein, ihre Meinung zur Musik mit uns zu teilen oder ihre gesammelten Materialien durchzusehen, um Musik zu präsentieren, die nicht im Fokus der aktuellen Medienkanäle steht. als label für elektronische musik liegt unser schwerpunkt auf der untersuchung genau dieses genres. im rahmen der serie suchen wir aber eher nach verborgener, unbekannter, vielleicht vergessener musik. wir wollen das noch unentdeckte präsentieren und auch eine plattform für andere kulturelle umgebungen mit unterschiedlichen musikalischen ansätzen bieten. Jede Ausgabe wird von einem Kurator betreut und zusammengestellt. Ein einleitender Text soll den künstlerischen Ansatz des jeweiligen Kurators erläutern. In diesem Sinne kann das Format einer Doppel-LP nur einen ersten Einblick geben und will zu einer vertieften Recherche einladen. für die erste ausgabe der serie "sichten 1" haben wir frank bretschneider gebeten, seine eigene, sehr persönliche auswahl aktueller elektronischer musik zusammenzustellen. seine auswahl fiel auf sechs künstler, deren unterschiedliche stilrichtungen ich zwischen zugänglicher musik einerseits und sehr abstrakten kompositionen andererseits unterscheiden.