Cerca:frances

The Los Angeles-based indie-dance duo is comprised of Australian-born Jordan Feller and Southern California native Marc Gilfry. Their sophomore studio album, It’s All A Bit Fuzzy, comes packed with new, epic collabs and sets the stage for their riveting live show.

Psychedelic Anxiety, as a mood, goes something like this: overwhelming, existential, vertigoic, arising when we stare into the void. This metaphysical unease also serves as the title for Brooklyn-based musician Frances Chang’s second album, and as a feeling it’s present throughout, charged by all things occultish. Recorded by Chang and engineer Andrea Schiavelli, featuring a cast of revered NYC DIY players, including Schiavelli (Eyes of Love) and Liza Winter (Birthing Hips), Psychedelic Anxiety relishes in the refining of aesthetic, in the electricity of improvisation, in balancing bleakness with humor. It embodies an idiosyncratic genre Chang calls slacker prog — offbeat, but brimming with spiritual and emotional resonance. The record infuses artifacts of the mundane with otherworldliness— even the love songs live more in the realm of fantasy (or horror) than the romantic. The psychic twin and mirror image of Chang’s 2022 debut full-length Support Your Local Nihilist, Psychedelic Anxiety by comparison is less urgent, leaving space for more nuance and storytelling. Together, these albums represent a new cycle of creativity for Chang, a reset to zero. “Eye Land,” captures Chang on a tour around the Irish and English countryside, in a moment of major life change. “Lying around your spare room,” she sings, “Sky is cloudy here in June.” Around her, guitar sputters and stops. Vocals branch off like vines on the side of an old house. It is a profoundly lovely song, a freaky miniature in the way that a Broadcast song is a freaky miniature. “Darkside” opens up with a particularly memorable narrative moment. “Last night I saw Parasite,” sings Chang, describing how she saw it alone, how regular life that week was acute, weird, intense. How she found comfort in resignation. After all: Psychedelic Anxiety is a serene, bizarre record full of alien sounds and big introspection.

Following the successful re-release of the entire The Mars Volta back catalog, Clouds Hill has saved the reissue of Frances The Mute (single) and The Widow (live) as a special highlight for the 2023 Record Store Day. Mastered for vinyl - pressed ony vinyl exclusively for Record Store Day 2023.

On the eponymously titled final song of her debut album Land of No Junction, Irish songwriter Aoife Nessa Frances (pronounced Ee-fa) sings “Take me to the land of no junction/Before it fades away/Where the roads can never cross/But go their own way.” It is this search that lies at the heart of the album, recalling journeys towards an ever shifting centre - a centre that cannot hold - where maps are constantly being rewritten.

The evocative phrase is the result of a fortuitous misunderstanding. Reminiscing about childhood visits to Wales, Aoife’s musical collaborator and co-producer Cian Nugent, mentioned a train station called Llandudno Junction, which she misheard. “Land of No Junction later became a place in itself. A liminal space - a dark vast landscape to visit in dreams… A place of waiting where I could sit with uncertainty and accept it. Rejecting the distinct and welcoming the uncertain and the unknown.” Reveals Frances.

The songs traverse and inhabit this indeterminate landscape: the beginnings of love, moments of loss, discovery, fragility and strength, all intermingle and interact. Land of No Junction is shot through with a sense of mystery - an ambiguity and disorientation that illuminates with smokey luminescence. Yet, through the haze, everything comes down to what, where and who you are. Frances has built a universe full of intimacy and depth, with lyrics written through a process of free thought writing. It lends the record fluidity, each song in dialogue with the next not only through language, but the way each musical choice complements or threads into another.

Navigated by the richness of Aoife’s voice, along with the layers gently built through her collaborators’ instruments (strings, drums, guitars, keys, percussion), gives a feeling of filling up space into every corner and crack. A remarkable coherent sonic world: buoyant and aqueous, with dark undercurrents. The crossroads as a place where someone can be stuck, static in the face of the future, becomes instead an amorphous realm, where the remnants of the past and what is unknown meld together and come to an understanding. Where nostalgia and newness ebb and flow in equal measure.

Triumph breeds confidence, and with confidence comes an expansion of ambition, a focus of ability, an emboldening of audacity. De-Loused In The Comatorium had risked everything Omar and Cedric possessed on the wildest of gambits, the most impossible of dreams: making sense of the riot of influences ricocheting about Omar’s head, and memorialising their departed friend Julio Venegas through Cedric’s magical realist roman-a-clef. It Clouds Hill shouldn’t have worked. But it did, and with that fiendish tightrope act successfully accomplished, the duo stretched the wire even further and higher, over a figurative fiery pit peopled with lions, crocodiles, piranha and other sharp-toothed beasts not yet known to man. Because how do you make great art without taking great risks? Frances The Mute was no De-Loused Part Two. For one thing, the band’s configuration had changed, in the most painful way. Shortly before the release of De- Loused, sound manipulator and founder member Jeremy Michael Ward passed away, a wound Omar says the group never recovered from. But even though his inspired fucking- with-the-sonic-parameters is absent from Frances The Mute, his spirit and influence can still be determined, the album’s concept derived from a diary Ward had encountered in his day-job in repossession. “Jeremy picked up lots of interesting stuff when he was a repo man,” remembers Cedric. “Weird things, including this diary, He let us read it a bunch of times. It was by a guy who’d been adopted and was searching to find his real parents. It was very surreal, it didn’t make much sense – the guy might’ve been schizophrenic – but it was very inspiring. It felt like how certain music helps you escape your boring every-day life. The names and scenes in the diary directly inspired these songs.” Some of the tracks pre-dated De-Loused, having their origins in early demos Omar recorded at the duo’s Long Beach home Anikulapo, songs such as The Widow and Miranda The Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. Cedric had heard these jams in their embryonic state and began working in his mind on what he could bring to them. “I was attracted to The Widow like you would be to a lover, right?” Cedric remembers. “I sang over it with Omar while we were touring De-Loused in Australia on the Big Day Out, like, ‘Okay, I’ve got something for this.’” A potent ballad, laden with emotional crescendos and evoking the epic drama of Ennio Morricone – an effect aided by an elegiac trumpet part performed by Flea – The Widow would become The Mars Volta’s first song to chart on the Billboard Top 100, capturing the album’s potent sorrow and widescreen sprawl in miniature. Indeed, the lush sound of the album, the depth of detail and breadth of instrumentation, belies its grungy roots. Having tasted the luxury of Rick Rubin’s mansion, Omar veered in the opposite direction when recording Frances, cutting the album in what he describes as “a shithole... Basically a warehouse with one little air conditioner on its last legs, awful wiring and a console you couldn’t rely on. We were there night and day – I would literally lock engineer Jon DeBaun in there. He slept on a mattress in the vocal booth.” A considerably more complex and ambitious album than its predecessor – four of its five tracks lasted over ten minutes in length, with its closing epic Cassandra Gemini spanning over half an hour – Frances The Mute wasn’t recorded “live” by an ensemble, but with the individual musicians coming into the “shithole” and recording the parts Omar had scripted for them separately. “They had to have absolute trust in me,” Omar remembers, “Like actors trust their director.” In addition to the core band – now fleshed out with incoming bassist Juan Alderete, and Omar’s brother Marcel on keyboards and percussion – the album featured guitar solos from John Frusciante, saxophone and flute by future member Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales, a full string section, and piano played by Omar’s hero, salsa legend Larry Harlow. “It was a childhood dream come true,” Omar says. “We recorded with him in my hometown in Puerto Rico, and my father flew in to watch the session. Larry was a perfect gentleman, and a very lively spirit.” The album’s fevered intensity infected even the staid string section, Cedric remembers. “When they performed the part on Cassandra Gemini, ’25 wives in the lake tonight’, one of the guys in the orchestra played so hard he broke his bow, this real old, antique bow. And you could see his ‘classical’ side come out – like, ‘I broke this playing a fuckin’ rock song??’ He was pissed off. But I was like, ‘Fuck yeah, man, that’s on the record! You’ve got to realise things like that are cool.’” The album also features field recordings of “the coqui of Puerto Rico” during the opening minutes of Miranda That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. “We took a page out of the Grateful Dead’s book there,” laughs Cedric. “They recorded air. We recorded fuckin’ frogs in Puerto Rico.”

Originally starting out in the late 90s, Paris-based 8 piece, Cotonete originally gained fame for renditions of tracks from their contemporaries, the likes of: Deodato, Lalo Schiffrin and Banda Black Rio. Replicating the heavy grooves, sweaty jazz-funk with a nod to the Brazilian warmth and beach breeze. Before bowing out of the game thinking the fun was over….

Fast forward to more recent times, having had their flame reignited by Melik Bencheikh, head honcho of Paris vinyl emporium, Heartbeat Vinyl. He encouraged the band to get back together and over the last two years the band released four EPs of original material - including the collaboration with Dimitri from Paris - quickly becoming collectors items, and now gearing up for 2019 they are finally ready to present a full body of work, their album debut 'Super Vilains'.

Repress!

Deluxe Edition of PDM's massive Exotica LP features 2 x Purple Vinyl, 2 x Printed Inner Sleeves in Embossed Gatefold Sleeve with A2 Poster includes full Exotica album plus 3 bonus tracks: “In The Dark” with Sophie and the Giants “Rise” featuring Tasita D’Mour “Twisted Mind” featuring Agnes. Limited Edition.

Francesco Skip's debut EP delivers a focused, club-ready sound that draws from contemporary UK club music while embracing the simplicity and raw energy of early 2000s techno and dubstep. Each track explores a different underground electronic direction and highlights include 'Ocean Explorer' with late-90s techno vibes and swingy dub stabs, 'Kronplatz', which is a dark, bouncy bass journey, 'Hondra B' a stripped-down jungle and drum & bass tool, and 'Wrong Glidez', a post-dubstep homage with 2-step drums. This great debut is also well mastered with bass depth and mid and high texture for loud deployment on peak-time systems.

Endlich ist es da, das lang erwartete zweite Album von GREEN DESERT TREE. Mit dem ersten Album "Progressive Worlds" hatte Green Desert Tree bereits 2019 bleibende Spuren in der Progwelt hinterlassen. Die Berliner Band um Mastermind Tim Sund (u.a. Keyboarder bei der Krautrock Legende Agitation Free) hatte bewiesen, dass sich aktueller Neoprog aus Deutschland in Sachen musikalischer Qualität und Originalität nicht hinter der internationalen Konkurrenz verstecken muss. Die Fachwelt hatte einen neuen Stern am Proghimmel wahrgenommen. Doch genau in dem Augenblick, als GDT im Begriff war die internationalen Festivalbühnen zu betreten, wurde der Band ein Strich durch die Rechnung gemacht: Corona. Diese unfreiwillige Unterbrechung aller Aktivitäten brachte dann auch ein paar personelle Veränderungen mit sich, so dass der bisherige Bassist Sascha Giebel zum Frontsänger avancierte und der italienische Bassist Francesco Beccaro neu zur Band hinzustieß. Das neue Album FIGHTING DRAGONS knüpft genau da an, wofür schon das Debüt so gefeiert wurde und besticht mit verpielt proggigen Keyboardintros, vertrackten Melodien, harten Gitarren, fantasievollem Storytelling, Satzgesang, symphonischer Größe, mikroskopischer Detailverliebtheit, klassisch anmutenden Passagen im Rockgewand und mitunter sehr druckvollen Parts. So handelt es sich bei den Songs des neuen Albums um eine Sammlung von Geschichten, die vom "Storyteller" erzählt werden. Dabei geht es zum Beispiel um eine Frau, die um ihren Bräutigam trauert, der am Vorabend der Hochzeit plötzlich spurlos verschwindet. Ein anderer Song handelt von einem computerspielsüchtigen Jugendlichen, der glaubt ein Ritter zu sein, der sein Königreich vor gefährlichen Drachen schützen muss. Was all diese Musik von GDT vereint, ist eine Qualität von Storytelling, die beispielsweise an Bands wie die frühen Genesis, Yes und Saga sowie an aktuelle Künstler wie Neal Morse und Steven Wilson erinnert, vereint mit einem Riesenspektrum an musikalischen Einflüssen und großer instrumentaler Virtuosität. Green Desert Tree wird nun zur Veröffentlichung des zweiten Albums "Fighting Dragons" endlich nachholen, was hätte schon längst passieren sollen, und zwar die deutschen Bühnen erobern und sich den Progfans in die Herzen spielen.

Finally, the long-awaited repress of this tech-house banger by French producer Bobby Parker from ’03. A real classic from DJ Francesco Del Garda. The B-side comes from another sick release on the label, this time with Mogcha. It’s a straight-up electro-house heater, perfect to get that dancefloor hyped. Antinote’s also planning to reissue some of the Monster Funky catalog in the next monthes. Stay tuned!

DISPLACES represents Fabris' most personal musical journey to date, inspired by the concept of hyperobjects and cartographic practices. The album sculpts a high-dimensional phased time-space composed of concrete materials and digital archetypes in a state of constant displacement. It delves into the symbolic and philosophical realms of mapping as one of the greatest sense-making mechanisms for life, in dialogue with object-oriented environments, superimposition and non-locality applied to cosmic, temporal, and emotional memory.

The sonic ecosystem expands on the image of navigating a path through a set of places, from the microcosm of quanta to the macro force of dark matter, from underwater depths to overland terrains, encapsulating the cyclical flow between birth and death, both in ecological and anthropological sense. The intersection of these shifting states is explored through the extensive processing of the langspil, Iceland's only traditional instrument, intertwined with manipulated field recordings of biophonies and geophonies captured across Icelandic and Venetian territories. These recordings form the backdrop for a meditative process that relocate familiar objects into unfamiliar realms, reflecting on the transformative power of self-reflection while encapsulating the fragmentation and entanglement found in nature and the human state. The record plunges the listener into a disconcerting and physical soundscape, as a “ghostly spectrality that comes in and out of phase with normalized human spacetime,” evoking sensations of suffocation and release as each layer continuously unfolds the palimpsest of the enclosed labyrinth.

“Extraction of the I” embodies a subatomic reaction—erupting as a molecular force that rises, only to re-submerge with a solitary exhale underwater. In this mutated dark space, beluga whales breathe into "Xanadu Phasing," creating a pulsating tension that releases only to unveil a frozen landscape.

In “Barricading the Ice Sheets” the glacial material morphs into a liquid tunnel of digital artifacts, building a wall of noise that shatters into scattered fragments of ice, resembling bird calls from another world.

A moment of stasis is offered with the appearance of an asymmetrical loop in Monolith I, evoking a primitive rite before an unknown force emerges.

The physical intensity of subsonic material in "A Quake in Being" interrupts the hieratic tone, detuning into polluted sonic matter sourced from relics of the First World War in the Venetian Prealps. The geography of this place reconciles with the original homeland in "The Map is the Territory," blending negative space with anthropogenic elements and exploited sounds of the langspil.

The burning density of "Wolf-Rayet" projects into the void, echoing the residual sounds of a local church as relics of fossilized religions. Wolf tones are the remains in Monolith II, introducing the final track, "Topography of Extinction," where evolving psilocin textures invite the listener to uncover deeper layers of meaning and dislocation.