Buscar:free son

This debut album is the work of London based producer, sound artist and composer, Paul Cousins. Paul works with meticulously maintained reel to reel tape machines to transform and alter his electronic compositions. His prepared tape loops form the basis of ‘Vanishing Artefacts’ 12 intricate compositions. The original ideas processed through 1/4” tape become a hazy facsimile of their former state as tape is manipulated and effected to mould something new.

“There is great freedom in limitations. The sonic limitations of tape, at least in the lo-fi way I use it, are also a factor. Being able to physically touch and manipulate the sound is a very important and visceral part of this. Opposed to a lot of ambient music I have written, I want this music to be tactile, and very tangible. Yes, it can float away, but I also want to show the string tied to the balloon. For this reason many of the tracks contain the sound of the room, and the wonderful noises these machines make."

Wildflower is a trio comprising Idris Rahman (sax), Leon Brichard (bass) and Tom Skinner (drums).

The trio takes you on an intense, meditative and spiritual musical journey that embodies the spirit of freedom. Based around hypnotic grooves laid down by Brichard’s unswervingly solid bass lines, drummer Skinner plays around artfully with the beats, grooving hard in constantly shifting, unexpected turns of rhythmic play. Rahman’s contributions range from subtle conversational interplay to loudly expressed angry passion to the most delicate of whispers, conveying a depth of emotion and a deep sense of musical structure withIn an ever changing sea of musical conversation.

Using simple, arresting melodies as a starting point, the trio create freely improvised waves of emotion ranging from powerful climaxes to hauntingly beautiful breath-like passages and everything in-between, creating unique forms and structures that react to the acoustics and the atmosphere of the situation.

Taking inspiration from the spiritual jazz pioneers such as John and Alice Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, Yusef Lateef and Sun Ra, compositional influences range from Gnawa music to modal jazz to Bengali folk music but the scope is wider still and the important unifying factor is the spontaneous communication and interplay between the three musicians. Rather than having a tight rigid structure, the tunes are allowed to breathe and develop into new unexplored forms, allowing fresh interpretations that make each performance a unique experience.

The album is a collection of live and studio recordings that have been recorded and mixed by the band.

Repress!

New material from the enegmatic Mr Langestraat. TIP!

"One afternoon a couple of years ago, an excited Ronald Langestraat could barely contain himself. “I’ve started dancing!” he exclaimed. “I never did it before - I’d always admired it in the past, but just wasn’t able to move like that!” But then, at the ripe old age of 81, Ronald was gripped by the urge to respond to the rhythm and express himself in this physical way.

For a man who’s dedicated his life to music, in particular Jazz with a funky Latin inflection, it feels like an especially sage realization - like the treasure at the end of a long quest, or the princess after the end-game boss. The prize is freedom, and the shapes we make on the dance floor are mirrored in that piano solo over the stanzas - a caravan that trips from smokey basement clubs all the way to Shiva’s Tandava on the edge of the universe.

The music on this album is inspired by this revelation. Although these songs were written many moons ago, their interpretation is modern, full of renewed energy, with young, yet well-worn players. While it slots neatly into the daily music practice that Ronald adheres to, it’s a new chapter in a story that is still being written - and an invitation to get in touch with your dancing self and try out some new moves."

CALAMITA = KARKHANA members TONY ELIEH, SHARIF SEHNAOUI and Lebanese drummer MALEK RIZKALLAH join forces with the Egyptian singer AYA METWALLI - the result is the improbable meeting between free jazz / improv, punk rock & Oum Kalthoum!

CALAMITA is the "rock project" of SHARIF SEHNAOUI and TONY ELIEH, two of the most active musicians on the Lebanese experimental scene (among others projects, both are members of the "free Middle Eastern music" collective KARKHANA). SEHNAOUI comes from a jazz and improv music background, ELIEH is primarily a rock musician and founding member of the Lebanese post-punk band THE SCRAMBLED EGGS whose work in the last decade has covered many directions from pop-rock to plain experimental. They are joined by Lebanese drummer MALEK RIZKALLAH (WHO KILLED BRUCE LEE, ex THE SCRAMBLED EGGS). As trio they develop instrumental pieces that draw their inspiration from artists as diverse as Tony Conrad, Last Exit or Oum Kalthoum.

AYA METWALLI is an Egyptian singer/songwriter, composer and sound artist currently based in Beirut. Grown up in Cairo, her father would play non-stop Oum Kalthoum songs on road trips to the beach and Aya's mother; known to have the most beautiful voice in the family, she always sang at home and at family gatherings, so long before Aya was able to form her own music taste, immense amounts of Arabic classic songs and melodies already settled in her subconsciousness …

After her first EP "Beitak" in 2016, Metwalli (named "a musical enigma" by The Guardian) started to integrate more experimental and eerie sonic excursions into her avant-pop, so the collaboration with CALAMITA feels like a natural or logic step.

The roots for "Al Saher" ("stay awake") were laid when SEHNAOUI and METWALLI first worked together in "Night", a dance piece by ALI CHAHROUR which included a wide collection of Arabic songs and ancient poems, later Sehnaoui invited her to work with CALAMITA. The four met in a recording studio in Beirut, using songs by "The Voice of Egypt" Oum Kalthoum as starting point.Together they aim to fully revisit the song format and explore the possibilities of classical Tarab songs, extracted from their origins and reframed within the music of the twenty-first century. The result is a mix of various styles and influences that often seek to stretch the contrasts to towering extremes - animprobable blend between free jazz & improv, punk rock & Oum Kalthoum!

*MILKY CLEAR VINYL - 300 COPIES ONLY FOR WORLD!!* Technology + Teamwork’s fizzling synths, interweaving textures and punchy rhythms are beguiling on their long-awaited debut album We Used To Be Friends. However, at the heart of it all it’s the connection between the group’s two members, Anthony Silvester and Sarah Jones, the friendship the much-travelled duo have managed to maintain for nearly 15 years and a showcase of the slow-burning construction of the electronic world that they’ve surrounded themselves with. We Used To Be Friends is ultimately the tale of two storied artists in their own right, holding onto each other through personal and career twists and turns, relocations and broader movements through respective phases of their lives. Silvester and Jones first met and then collaborated as part of biting post-punk five-piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter’s demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Harry Styles and Bloc Party among many others, Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music – she’s also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including: Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Vleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology + Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. “Technology + Teamwork's name perfectly describes how we work” Silvester explains. “Sometimes the teamwork is between each other and sometimes it’s between us and the technology.” Although going by the name Technology + Teamwork as far back as 2014, two events conspired that pulled the project into focus for the pair of them: firstly, Silvester spent a year constructing a soundproof studio shed on the border of London and Essex where he lives. Secondly, inevitably, the pandemic brought the globe-trotting Jones back home to just seven miles away from her long-time collaborator and friend. “We probably hung out more than we had for a few years” says Silvester. “Also, after all her Pillow Person releases Sarah had gotten really good with recording vocals and knowing what did and didn’t work and had a really good home studio set up. We still worked separately though, exchanging ideas via email and WhatsApp.” As with many artists through 2020 and early 2021, working separately was a new necessity that they were forced to adapt to. However, it became clear that there were creative benefits to it. “It really changed our sound and our sounds became a lot more focused as a result” Jones says. “I wanted to use the same ideas of improvisation that I might use while playing the drums for myself and apply that to melodies and lyrics.” The album bristles with hyperpop modernity. You can hear it in the manipulated vocals most prominently on Big Blue’s disco strut and on Moving Too’s heady mix of pitched up voice and burrowing sub bass. However, the pair also looked to San Francisco and the West Coast synthesis movement of the 60s, Silvester inspired by the likes of Suzanne Ciani and Don Buchla. The plaintive lo-fi and melancholy of Amsterdam incorporates Mutable Instrument’s Marbles by Émilie Gillet which – inspired by Buchla’s own synthesis work – outputs random voltages to give the track an air of unpredictability. It’s something that occurs throughout the album, the duo revelling in the happy accidents that disrupt the flow of their hook-laden pop. “The ‘Buchlian’ ideas of music having randomness and uncertainty, completely freed us up” Silvester explains. “It felt a bit like having more members in the band, machines that didn't do what you expected or intended.” Perhaps more subtly, is the influence of 17th and 18th century Baroque music, with Silvester drawing a line between it and the 90’s R’n’B he and Jones both love – exemplified perhaps best on K+B’s percussive claps and sultry grooves. The portentous juddering synthpop of the title track, meanwhile, alludes specifically to Handel’s Sarabande. It’s typical of an album that only needs a scratch of its seemingly glossy surface to unearth a myriad of contorted touchstones and reference points that’ve fermented beneath it. Thematically there’s an anxious sense to the record, with tracks often balancing above a quiet sense of unerring tension even at their most bombastic. Moving Too is the result of an existential doubt that hit Silvester while out cycling, with the outro refrain "it's not enough to die you also have to be forgotten" a take on something Samuel Beckett once said. These worries are echoed on the album’s closing track What A Year, which borrows a lot of lines from the late drag performer and fashion designer Dorian Corey including the grimly defiant "you're gonna leave your mark somewhere in this world just by getting through it”. Those clouds offer a counter point to We Used To Be Friends, but then isn’t that what great pop albums do? Technology + Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing here is particularly linear – and it’s all the better for it. Bio: Anthony Silvester & Sarah Jones first collaborated as part of biting post-punk five piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter's demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Bat for Lashes, Harry Styles and Bloc Party (among many others), Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music - she's also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Wleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology & Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. "We Used To Be Friends" proves that Technology & Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing hear is particularly linear - and it's all the better for it.

Nico Motte returns to Antinote with his second album ‘The Missing Person’ after his 2015 introductory EP ‘Rheologia’, 2016’s ‘Life Goes On If You Are Lucky’ LP, and 2017’s ‘18 Rays’ EP collaboration with Zaltan and Raphaël Top-Secret. Truly though, Motte never really left, having been the aesthetic eye for each Antinote artwork since day dot. His visual style would prove pivotal to the labels decade long success in the leftfield music underground. But here Motte shows us once again that his skills don’t solely lie in graphic art.

A bandcamp review of Motte’s first LP reads ‘French late seventies synth-laden electronics of avant garde film soundtracks with a touch of early house, minimalism and Balearic…’
‘The Missing Person’ holds true to that balearic core while adding flavours of lollipop dub, sugary synth and Martin Denny-esque Exotica. Synth-Pop from a tropical island. Perhaps The Missing Person here is the album’s protagonist themself, having sailed away from the trivialities of urban life to lay on a white sand beach somewhere warm, drinking fresh coconut water and not giving a shit. A laissez-faire attitude.

Underneath the cool sonic facade of ‘The Missing Person’ Motte effortlessly meanders through pastel sounds drawn from an extensive collection of vintage synthesisers, drum machines and effects units at Synth City. The result: a smooth textured continuous listen of an ear off to somewhere far… island life perhaps? perhaps urban life in need of reprieve.

Dishwasher_ are the latest disciples of yet another new wave of talent in the fertile Belgian groove and jazz scene. It would, however, be a shame to limit them to the constraints of any given musical style. Ever since their formation in 2019, the Ghent-based trio have been experimenting with all possible genres to create a contemporary sound they can now rightfully call their own. With their self-titled debut album, to be released in April 2023 via Sdban Ultra, they are closing off an impressive first chapter, delivering a unique and diverse yet coherent collection of groove-driven cuts.



While labeling Diswasher_ as a jazz band wouldn’t do them enough justice, it is a fact that improvisation and a certain free approach turn out to be key in the creation and performance process of the album’s tracks. Werend, Louise and Arno specifically aim to capture their live energy and synergy on the album by experimenting with structures and textures, playing with song lengths and implementing influences from various other styles — electronic music in the first place, but as well traces from (Middle-)Eastern and Balkan music, next to dance, hip-hop and even metal.



As a result, the record tends to be a pure and honest representation of Diswasher_’s musical identity and artistic quest over the past years — both as individual musicians and as a band. Saxophones drenched in effects, diverse layers of synthesizers, a bass guitar hopping from fingerpicking licks to deep and drone-like bass tones, drums can sometimes sound like drum computers, and sometimes as subtle rhythmic chords: it’s pretty clear how deep this trio have dived to search and find something totally fresh and new.



Members of the band are Arno Grootaers, Werend Van Den Bossche and Louise van den Heuvel. Their debut album is coming out on Sdban Ultra, the innovative label of Black Flower, ECHT! and Compro Oro (among others). In 2023 they will fully focus on new talent, by signing Dishwasher_, but also KAU (formerly KAU trio) and Schroothoop. Apart from that, you can expect debut albums or EPs by LũpḁGangGang, Bandler Ching, KVR trio and Adja coming out this year. Stay tuned.

Since the release of the highly acclaimed album Mamari (2021), the Muito Kaballa project has continued to develop.


The new album Little Child (2022) starts with a cracker called Inside Outside. The song addresses the hypocrisy and double standards of the European Union when it comes to refugee policy. The group works together with the renowned German/Nigerian musician Ade Bantu and the Angolan guitarist Juresse Amie Tieti Ndombasi and picks up their listeners where they were parked with Mamari. Fat grooves with clearly recognizable Afrobeat influences.


However, the musical journey leads step by step away from the usual sounds of the band. Already the second track Dansez! Dansez! shows that. The sound leads to Angola, Congo and a bit of Mali. The band stacks so many rhythms on top of each other that the word poly appears in a whole new light. It becomes clear that the nine deal intensively with the music that is the source of their inspiration. The gifted guitarist Juresse Amie Tieti Ndombasi puts the icing on the cake with his sound.


Let's continue with No = No. Here at last it becomes clear: Muito Kaballa has escaped from his drawer and is now in free flight, somewhere between jazz, fusion, afrobeat and whatever. But who cares? The sound is convincing, the feet shake to the beat and cannot be calmed down even with great effort and the message "Don't protect your daughter, educate your son" can't be said often enough.


The next song, Memories, reveals completely different sides of the band. While the sound is suddenly much more relaxed and, let's call it jazzy, the lyrics also become much more intimate and poetic. "Keep in mind, it makes you blind, starring in the sun". We don't find out what memories Niklas Mündemann, composer of the song, has in mind here but that shouldn't bother us. We just put on our sunglasses and let ourselves be carried away by the almost epic track, which with its ten minutes of playing time leaves nothing to be desired in terms of diversity. Sophisticated listeners will wonder if Niklas Mündemann listened to a bit of Kamasi Washington while composing. Maybe even a lot? Be that as it may - a special treat in the piece: the trombonist Saskia-Marleen Dahms, who makes a guest appearance on this song, rounds off the sound of the brass section again.


Last but not least, we come to the namesake of the album: the song Little Child builds on the mood of the previous track and rounds off the musical odyssey with a good portion of goosebumps. But the song doesn't just leave its mark on the surface, no, it also gets under your skin. While the melody has considerable catchy tune potential, it is above all the lyrics and the message that grab you here. Niklas Mündemann wrote the song during a phase of mental depression. Above all, psychotherapy helped him to think more positively again and to comfort his own inner child. We've all heard about that child in us. But when was the last time we hugged it? The song Little Child is the perfect accompaniment for this, because when you hear it, you immediately feel hugged, pressed and safe. Another highlight are the incredibly beautiful solos, played by Benjamin Schneider on guitar and Saskia-Marleen Dahms on trombone.


That's the end of the album and, to be perfectly honest, you don't feel left out in the rain, but you do feel left out in a (warm) shower. Time flies when you hear Muito Kaballa's new album and in the end you want more. 4 remixes for the dancefloor are delivered by French producer Kuna Maze, Polish/Angolan duo Lua Preta, French producer La Dame and Brazilian producer Badsista, tipping the remix balance into more female input.

Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the

Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”

Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of

imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”

Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”

“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.

It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

A royal refugee turned Soul survivor. On his debut album Free Me, Burundian-born JP Bimeni astonishes with a voice that recalls Otis Redding in his prime whilst resonating with the soul of Africa. A refugee who's been living in London since the early 2000s, Bimeni sings songs of love and loss, hope and fear, with a conviction that comes from the extraordinary experiences life has thrown at him.

A descendant of the Burundian royal family, Bimeni fled Burundi aged 15 during the 1993 civil war. Following three attempts on his life - at school he watched as his schoolmates were murdered, he was then chased by motorcycle militia-men and finally poisoned by doctors in hospital - he was given refugee status and fled to the UK where he's remained ever since. Music has provided the solace that Bimeni has needed to move forward with his life: 'If I didn't have music I don´t know how I would have survived everything', he says. With it's classic 60s-sounding Motown and Stax-inspired grooves the album was written by musical director Eduardo Martiìnez and songwriter Marc Ibarz and Bimeni imbues these tales of love and loss with his tragic experiences making 'Free Me' a deep soul soundtrack to his pained life: 'When I sing I feel like I'm cleansing myself: music is a way for me to forget'.

repressed !

From samba and bossa nova through to baile funk, with carioca expressions of jazz, rock and hip hop in between, the sound of Rio de Janeiro, while continually evolving, has always held an unnameable quality which reflects the magic and mystique of the city itself. Multi-instrumentalist and arranger Antonio Neves is the city’s newest trailblazer: the enfant-terrible of Rio’s music scene, leading a vital and diverse constellation of both emerging and well-known artists advancing the city’s musical legacy.

“It all started one sleepless night, after watching a Quincy Jones documentary”. Inspired by the legendary music magnate, Neves began writing a list of artists residing in Rio de Janeiro “people that I admire, that I consider geniuses of their instruments, who share with me affinities, anxieties and projects.” The list included some of Brazil’s most revered living musicians who Neves has worked with in recent years: Hamilton de Holanda, Leo Gandelman and Dorival Caymmi. Neves also called on some of Brazil's most exciting emerging talents including Alice Cayymii and Ana Frango Eletrico.

A Pegada Agora É Essa (The Sway Now) is Neves’ second album: a vibrant portrait of the current Brazilian music scene. From the regional to universal, popular to erudite, samba to rap, Latin rhythms to jazz, MPB and pop to good old rock'n'roll, Neves walks with fluency and mastery amongst all the musical genres that Brazil has to offer.

“My offer to the musicians was complete freedom to express themselves through the songs I proposed – classics like “Summertime”, “Luz Negra” and “Noite de Temporal”, and compositions of my own – creating a space of authorship for the band and the guests. A space for inventions, purges, delusions, laughter. The idea was to bring the freedom of jazz crossed by Brazilian rhythms, such as the traditionals Partido Alto (A Pegada Agora É Essa) and Jongo (Jongo no Feudo and Luz Negra); rhythms of African-Brazilian religions like Candomblé (Noite de Temporal) and Umbanda (Forte Apache); and a tribute to newest Rio de Janeiro’s contribution to Brazilian music, the Funk Carioca (Simba)”.

Coming from a musical family, Antonio’s father, Eduardo Neves, was a renowned conductor and a professor at Juilliard School of Music and the California Jazz Conservatory. In the bohemian neighbourhood of Lapa, aged 14, Antonio began his career as a drummer, before experimenting with brass. He would soon become a skilled trombonist and arranger achieving the recognition of his teachers and peers. It wasn’t long before he would be playing with some of the biggest names in Brazilian music, such as Hamilton de Holanda, Leo Gandelman, Moreno Veloso, Kassin and Elza Soares.

His debut album as a trombonist was PA7 (2017, Rock It), released at the same time he was travelling the world playing with artists like Moreno Veloso, Kassin and Leo Gandelman, and recording the albums Jobim, Orquestra e Convidados (2017, Biscoito Fino), with Mário Adnet and Paulo Jobim; and Elza Soares Canta e Chora Lupi (2017, Coqueiro Verde Records). More recently, Neves was the arranger for the acclaimed Little Electric Chicken Heart album, by Ana Frango Elétrico, which has been nominated for a Latin Grammy and voted 2019’s ‘Brazilian Music Revelation’ by The Art Critics Association of São Paulo.

You Can Can is an echoed affirmation, an album which traces song forms around silence, field recordings, and degraded analog memories. This is folk music transmogrified and mutated, as if recorded and reconstructed in Pierre Schaffer’s GRM studio.

Not your typical Mariposa folk duo, the group is comprised of Toronto avant-music scene stalwarts, vocalist Felicity Williams (Bernice, Bahamas) and bricolage artist and synthesist Andrew Zukerman (Fleshtone Aura, Badge Epoch). The album feels like a somnambulant conversation, fragmented and half-remembered with Williams’ vocals traveling through a landscape of field recordings and Zukerman’s saturated concrète topographies. It is an electro-acoustic assemblage, both analog and digital, comprised of air, electricity, minerals, wood, and water. Although the album nods towards traditional forms of folk and musique concrète (if at this point it can be called a traditional form), it is outwardly and inwardly contemporary; non-linear, citational, opaque, and sui generis. In a way it feels like a sonic index of the narrative experiments found on the infamous Language school-related publisher The Figures, in the work of Lyn Hejinian, Clark Coolidge, and Lydia Davis. In the musical continuum, the album picks up where Linda Perhacs left off in the early 70’s—explored by Gastr Del Sol in the ‘90s—a convergence of rural acoustic idioms and urban avant-electronics. This is country music for the discerning cosmopolitan citizen of the 21st Century.

RIYL: Luc Ferrari, Brannten Schnüre, William Basinski, Oval, Eric Chenaux, Emmanuelle Parrenin About Everything In Time and Failure Figures, Felicity Williams says:

Everything In Time is indebted to the language of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector (as translated by Alison Entrekin). Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, we trace the roots of melancholy to render them available to consciousness; words from the ghostly realm of the transpersonal filter through dreams and shine a beam of light onto a lone trillium in a forest at night. Other influences include the experience of not knowing, of being subject to a gestation outside of one’s control. This is an ode to the power of naming to obliterate, to set free.

Failure Figures is a meditation on the radical contingency of reality and the vicissitudes of the will. With Slavoj Zizek as my guide (think: “Hegel for dummies” - I’m the dummy in this scenario), I wander through the valley of the shadow of death, and take heart. The last verse refers to an experience I had recording at a studio in Brussels. I was singing in French, with which I have some fluency, and the producer was complaining to the artist whose song it was that my delivery was not convincing. Thinking I was out of ear shot, he said in French, “c’est comme elle n'est pas là”; I was pronouncing the words correctly, but I failed to express anything. So what or whom is responsible for conveying meaning, if not the form of the word itself? And if the connection between meaning and form is broken, how do we fix it?

Gratitude to Thom Gill (guitar) and Daniel Fortin (bass) who joined us on the recording of Failure Figures. Thanks as well to my old roommate Christopher Willes, who unwittingly left behind his hand bells deep in the hall closet. We unearthed them by accident, and the bells became an important sound element. Thanks to other past roomies Robin Dann and Claire Harvie, whose childhood piano and guitar respectively still reside with us, and were used in the recording. Field recordings were made in Toronto, Canada and Celestún, Mexico in 2020.

ENARCHY is the debut album by Leipzig-based producer and singer Maria die Ruhe. It is the result of a deep and thorough look the
artist took into both her own inner workings and the world around her. In 14 tracks, she explores different types of energy,
oscillating between head and heart. Final destination of this sometimes painful process of self- exploration is the embodiment of
her own power and creativity; the realization, that she manifests her role as catalyst, healer, and fighter for freedom and equality
by reporting on her experiences. These songs are about nothing less than that. And you can also dance to them.
In a musical sense, Maria surpasses herself compared to previous releases. She is bolder, more explorative and dissolves genre
boundaries. Acoustic instruments like the cello and the piano unite playfully with electronic beats. Her expressive voice speaks and
sings from the lowest lows to the loftiest heights. Her self-disclosing lyrics communicate the deepest messages of the soul. One can
tell right away: something is at stake here, this is about a real human living through something real, and now reporting from the
front lines of the human experience.
With lines like „Things are changing all the fucking time“ (ENARCHY) she posts a reminder for the current zeitgeist and the resulting
global uncertainty. „Some things need to be destroyed before they can heal“ is a demand for openness towards change, even if it is
challenging, requires energy, and leaves behind some scars.
In ART IS THE ONLY REAL TRANSLATION OF LIVING FOR ME, Maria uses sentences like „I’ve been trying to please you, I got headaches
and I still don’t fit“ to express her desperation with existing structures of injustice and the lack of livability of the artist lifestyle.
„Ah, you’re an artist - and what do you do professionally?“ Everyone loves music and art! When, o when, will the understanding
follow that there need to be people who make this art as a central part of their lives?
Frustration takes turns with hope and a growing acceptance of the self. In EQUALISTA, Maria discusses antiquated conditions like the
inequality between the sexes in a kind of manifesto, with a simple proposal for solution: „Let’s both be selfish and raise our
energies, to create a whole world with all the things we need.“
In WE BELONG TO NEVER, Maria sings about the everyday horror of toxic relationships. Lines like „Disengagement and rage, I’ve become such a slave.“ express the despair of the emptiness that results from a lack of affection. She also describes treacherous
narcissistic manipulation: „You cut me small just to feel tall.“
In SKIN, she confesses: „I’m not as enough as everyone else.“ and describes the long and painful way from rejecting her own body
to loving herself unconditionally. „I hate what I feel, while I pretend to be free“ means she doesn’t want to be reduced down to
her body, doesn’t want to be seen as an instagrammable, thoroughly designed product; she wants to be acknowledged as an
individual.
In LOST, she poses a question that many are currently forced to ask themselves: „What do we do with all this solitude?“ Maybe
making use of the reclusion by exploring the shadow self. „Can you cope with the truth?“
The conclusion: energy is being freed up through the means of self-experience and living through the personal darkness -
ENARCHY. The realization: every human being is self-determined and should simply do what they feel. It is everyone’s right to
choose their own life’s path. Here, intuition serves as a signpost. This is both feminine and strong.
ENARCHY celebrates an embodied anarchy by working through the personal shadow and the genuine, healthy integration of the
struggle survived - not as a destructive rebellion, but as a testament of shameless, joyful self-empowerment.
„In the end, I want to be alive, because in reality, I’m free.“