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’Angelo lost his shit over it. Aaliyah’s 3rd favourite track of all time is on it. David Bowie rocked up with it to a TV interview, declaring it “the most exciting sound of contemporary soul music”.

In 1996, Lewis Taylor released his self-titled masterpiece. A true modern classic, it’s an album that was years ahead of its time. Forget 25 years ago, it could easily have been made in 2021. An effortless blend of neo-soul, sophisticated pop, smart grooves and laid-back white funk, it enjoyed rapturous reviews from critics and music legends alike. But the album never managed to make an impact and given what was likely a token vinyl release at the time, the original records have long since been near-impossible to find. Lewis Taylor’s Lewis Taylor remains a holy relic for some and criminally unknown to most.

Lewis Taylor’s impeccable influences created a dazzling sonic palette: the LP as a whole suggests the visionary brilliance of Prince; the vocal stylings evoke the yearning power of Marvin Gaye; the effortless guitar playing shares the virtuosity of Jimi Hendrix; the haunting tones conjure Tricky; the innovative production and engineering invite comparisons to studio mavericks like Todd Rundgren and Brian Eno; the multi-layered, complex harmonies flash on Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson; the dark, drama is reminiscent of both Scott Walker and Stevie Wonder; the complex arrangements create textures and moods with the feel of Shuggie Otis on Inspiration Information; the bold experimentation is akin to progressive artists like Faust and Tangerine Dream; the atmosphere is in conversation with Jeff Buckley’s Grace… and we could go on. That might all sound like marketing hyperbole, but not as far as Be With is concerned. It is a genuine wonder how an album this good could’ve passed so many people by.

But despite all the reference points, the similarities are really only skin-deep because the album sounds truly original. It occupies its own distinct, strange universe that feels dark and brooding one moment, bright and joyous the next. Ultimately, Taylor sounds like Taylor.

Although you wouldn’t know it from the credits, the album wasn’t the work of Lewis alone. Sabina Smyth gets an executive producer credit on the original sleeve, but in fact she worked with Lewis on the production and arrangements, did a lot of the backing vocals and she co-wrote Track, Song, Lucky and Damn with Lewis.

Lewis clarified all this in a Soul Jones interview with Dan Dodds in 2016. He explains how not giving Sabina the credit she was due at the time was an unfortunate consequence of where his head was at and he’s now trying to set the record straight.

Together they created an exquisite and sensually-charged record, with a freshness to the writing that makes the songs catchy, melodic-yet-deep and sometimes even funky. The music is predominantly guitar-led and a mixture of organs and synths, live drum loops and electronic percussion make for a sort of modern soul backing orchestra.

On the surface the album is gorgeously laidback, but beneath the lush, sometimes slick, production there’s a murkiness in the seriously gritty funk/hip-hop instrumentation. Lewis Taylor can be a claustrophobic listen. Even its one-word, often seemingly throw-away track titles add to the sense of unease. In its most positive moments, there’s still a sense that things aren’t quite right. The magic comes from this compelling tension.

The languid, strutting “Lucky” is a sensational opening statement. Sinuous electric guitar winds around the shaking percussion with a killer bass line rattling your bones, and Lewis’s voice is sublime. Its six-and-a-half unhurried minutes manage to distill the work of Marvin, Al Green and Bobby Womack because yes, it’s *that* good. Up next is the tough, dusty drum and jazzy, unsettling psych-guitar workout of “Bittersweet”. Aaliyah described it the “perfect song”, which says it all. By turns loping and soaring, tightly coiled and blasting free, 25 years on its discordant, swaggering majesty still sounds like future R&B.

The swinging, blue-eyed funk of “Whoever” oozes sophisticated sunshine soul for hazy days before “Track” sweeps in. The music tries to lift us up, beyond the reach of the vocals trying to drag us back down as Taylor sings “my mood is black as the darkest cloud”. The spare, dubby electro-soul of “Song” closes out the first half of the album with barely contained dread as it creeps towards the lush, synth-heavy coda.

The smouldering “Betterlove” eases us into the second half, coming on like a languorous response to the call of “Brown Sugar”, before sliding into the shuffling, softly-rocking “How”. Somehow the remarkable “Right” manages to both warm things up and smooth things out even more. Taut yet luxurious, it’s definitely not wrong.

“Damn” was to have been the album’s title track and you might also be able to hear its influence on D’Angelo’s Voodoo, maybe most obviously in the chaotic closing moments of “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”. Building to a screeching wall of noise that suddenly cuts dead, “Damn” sounds like the natural end to the album, with the celestial a cappella “Spirit” serving as a heavenly reprise.

When it came to the sleeve, art director Cally Callomon heard Taylor’s music as “sideways off-camera glances at a plethora of influences he had” and wanted to interpret that visually: “I went off into night-time London to see if I could find his song titles in off-beam low-fidelity photographs. I even found a shop called Lewis Taylor”. With a slide for each of the album’s ten tracks, nine of them are on the inner sleeve and the slide for “Damn” makes the front cover. It should’ve been the album’s title, but concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this.

One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, Andrew Lewis Taylor is an enigmatic figure and a hugely under-appreciated talent. A prodigious multi-instrumentalist who got his start touring with heavy blues/psych outfit the Edgar Broughton Band, he released two albums of psychedelic-rock as Sheriff Jack before Island signed him on the strength of a demo alone. But Taylor was destined to be one of those artists unable (or unwilling) to be pigeonholed and despite the best efforts of Island’s publicity department the music never sold in the quantities it needed to or deserved to. Island eventually let him go in the early 2000s and in June 2006, Lewis Taylor retired from music.

Typical for the mid-90s, this CD-length album was squeezed onto a single LP for its original vinyl release. Simon Francis’s fresh vinyl mastering now spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. The original artwork has been restored at Be With HQ and subtly re-worked to work as a double.

This sprawling psychedelic soul opus really is a forgotten should-be-classic. We know that there are those of you who know, and as for the rest of you, we’re a bit jealous that you’re getting to hear Lewis Taylor for the first time.

A deep dive into the one of most collectable jazz catalogues in the world, a selection of some of the rarest and most sought-after recordings from the 60s and 70s, a time when British jazz began to find its own identity. Drawn from the iconic labels of Decca, Deram, Argo, EMI Columbia/Lansdowne Series, Fontana, Mercury, & Philips. Kenny Wheeler was born Canada in 1930 and, with encouragement from his father - himself a trombone player - began playing trumpet at age 12. After studying at Toronto’s Royal Conservatory, he arrived in London in 1952, his playing enveloped in the sounds of Miles Davis, Booker Little, and Fats Navarro. In 1959, Wheeler joined the Johnny Dankworth Orchestra and stayed there until 1963, although he returned frequently for shows and other projects in the years that followed. He quickly become a distinguished soloist in the Orchestra and appeared on Dankworth’s key sixties albums. Wheeler met and played with the rising artists of London’s free jazz scene. Players such as Trevor Watts, Derek Bailey, and Evan Parker, musicians who would challenge the conventions of the day, eschewing formal composition and structure to embark on group improvisation. For a musician thoroughly schooled in all the conventions of charts and dance bands as Wheeler was, this was a radical departure. Wheeler’s contributions proved his ample flexibility and showed he was capable of inhabiting both the free environment and the more formal and controlled settings of a big band and orchestra. This was shown most clearly on his debut album, Windmill Tilter, recorded for Fontana with the John Dankworth Orchestra. The album features a young John McLaughlin on guitar along with bassist Dave Holland and a roster of talented and well respected musicians playing on one of the greatest modern jazz big band and orchestral albums.

While the pandemic paralyzed the entire world and prevented bands from touring, Latin America's biggest metal export SEPULTURA refused to sit back and act like an animal trapped in a cage. Like the flowers growing out of the deceased bird’s body depicted on the stunning colourful cover artwork by Eduardo Recife, the thrash metal pioneers from Belo Horizonte made good use of their unexpected free time to start a project that kept them busy throughout the entirety of 2020:

‘SepulQuarta’ was born at the very beginning of the pandemic when everything was halted”, guitarist Andreas Kisser remembers. “We had a new album out, but we couldn’t tour for it. Therefore, we created this recurring event where we could talk with our fans around the world, play our music and exchange ideas, it was a blast! »SepulQuarta« kept us alive and strong throughout one of the most difficult times in human history.”

“Doing Sepulquarta during this period allowed me to stay in contact with music. Playing my instrument was the only thing left to do in this pandemic,” adds drummer Eloy Casagrande, and indeed, music seemed to be a good way of coping with the never-ending lockdown and fear of loss and isolation that haunted people worldwide. Obviously, the Brazilian pioneers were not the only musicians feeling this way, so they started to connect with friends and colleagues worldwide and asked them to not only be part of their weekly podcast, but also join them in playing one of SEPULTURA’s classics tracks. From the safety of their homes, international stars like David Ellefson, Scott Ian, Danko Jones, Devin Townsend, Matt Heafy and many more recorded a SEPULTURA track together with the band, which have now been mixed and mastered by Conrado Ruther.

“We invited our amazingly talented friends to be a part of our project, either jamming with us or as a guest in the many Q&A’s we promoted,” Andreas explains. “We talked about our history, music, politics, sports, philosophy, depression and the environment among other things. We learned a lot with specialist guests and many of the great minds of today. Here you will find unique performances of SEPULTURA’s music from the many phases of our career, with amazing guest musicians that lent us their talent and energy to record these historical versions!”

The Cold Stares will release their new album "Heavy Shoes" on August 13, 2021 via Mascot Records.
"Heavy Shoes" will be available on CD Digipack w/ 12 page booklet and 180 Grams Shiny Gold Vinyl w/ printed insert.
The great state of Kentucky is world renowned for many things. Bluegrass music? Of course. The smoothest, best-tasting Bourbon created by the hands of man? It doesn’t get any better. One thing that folks don’t always associate with Kentucky however is visceral, in-your-face rock and roll. The Cold Stares are determined to change that perception.
Chris Tapp and Brian Mullins have known one another for a long, long time. They grew up in Western Kentucky, just a stone’s throw from the border or Indiana, and attended different High School mere minutes down the road from one another. They originally started playing together in their early twenties before going their separate ways only to reunite in another outfit a decade down the line. “We were playing together in 2009 in another band that was doing really well,” Tapp said. “It didn’t work out, so we both kind of exited that band and contemplated retirement.” It didn’t take long before they were thankfully disabused of that notion.
That band is an intense amalgam of Led Zeppelin meets Free, Soundgarden meets Black Crowes; rock and roll wizardry where the riffs are hard, the vocals are searing, and the low end is capital “H,” heavy. Most of the album was recorded in a single day at Sam Phillips fabled recording studio in Memphis. “That’s our second record there, so there was a lot of familiarity going back in,” Mullins said. “The thing about that studio is that it’s old, and vibey. Sometimes you gotta bang on the gear a little bit to make it work. It’s kinda like the Millennium Falcon. It’s badass, but you just gotta get it running right.”

‘Heavy Shoes’ is Cold Stares’ best record yet, and they know it. It took a lot of blood, sweat, tears and doubt before Chris Tapp and Brian Mullins reached this moment, but it’s all the sweeter knowing they did it their way. “We’ve been through some tough times, and I’d say our band is a pretty good representation for blue collar people in general. People that work hard. We’re just a blue-collar American rock and roll band.”

3x12" Repress


Some serious hot tracks on this fourth instalment of the Scandinavian Swords series. It breaks with its predecessors' forms. Deviating from the austere brevity that marks Northern Electronics out, Scandinavian Swords IIII: Atlas of Visions completes a survey of the label's confidants and components in the same breath as it introduces a swarm of new artists and genre-collisions. With the swell of the last 12 months behind them, Anthony Linell and Jonas Ronnberg have forged the compilation with a paradoxical formula: Atlas of Visions stakes itself as a milestone release that retains the sure-footed programming of its proprietors yet cuts a new silhouette for what the platform of a Northern Electronics release consists of. Presented across two volumes, Atlas of Visions courses through the hyper-pigmented and infectious fallout zone between club-focused works and the abstract territories of experimental modes. The release compiles egression and intensification into a pandemoniac whole, a refracting design for fractured times. Recommended!!!

Nobody could believe Willy Mason was only 19 when he appeared on the indie scene, after a chain of events that saw Mason hanging out, performing gigs and touring America with the likes of Conor Obrest and his band, Bright Eyes around the time of releasing 'Humans Eat', the 2004 album and its singles (now classic track "Oxygen" and "So Long") charting in the UK Singles and Albums Charts in 2005. "Already Dead" follows 'Carry On', his 2012 album produced by Dan Carey during his time in South London which also led to Mason's feature on Lianne La Havas' album 'Is Your Love Big Enough' and his 2012 tour with Ben Howard.

On July 13, 2006 the Drive-By Truckers set up
shop at Plan 9 Records in Richmond, VA. It was
the 25th Anniversary of the store. The band
performed to a packed house and played a
blistering set of fan-favourites, featuring the songs
‘18 Wheels of Love’, ‘Let There Be Rock’,
‘Goddamn Lonely Love’ and ‘Daddy’s Cup’.
The performance was also set up to benefit the
Bryan and Kathryn Harvey Family Memorial
Endowment. The foundation provides, among
other things, music scholarships in the Richmond
area. Lead vocalist and songwriter Patterson Hood
ended up writing the song ‘Two Daughters and A
Beautiful Wife’ about Bryan Harvey and his family.
The updated packaging includes original artwork
from acclaimed artist and long-time collaborator
Wes Freed.
Originally available as a very limited and long sold
out vinyl-only pressing. Now available on CD for
the very first time.

Joshua is the follow-up album to Olympic. While the second album, typically, often shows what critics call “maturity”, here Simon has released instead an album of adolescence. The musician opened up his own memory box to contemplate his childhood souvenirs, and dust them off of all nostalgia. At that time, he would VHS-record movies from TV and tape record soundtracks directly from the TV speaker, so he could listen to them in his bedroom. This is when he “discovered the power of music, the way it makes you enter another world, far from reality. I wanted to pay tribute to the era I shaped myself in – the ’80s and ’90s”. Tangerine Dream, Kraftwerk and Soft Machine. Logically, these are the sonic signatures that seem to haunt the album. The timeless pioneers of synthetic music constitute the sound references, without any established chronological timeline, that blend with the atmosphere of typically “French Touch” movie soundtracks – long before the term was even coined. “I use a musical palette that acts as a flashback to my favourite teenage movies: the synth sounds of Close Encounters of the Third Kind; the synth pads in Jean-Jacques Cousteau’s fascinating documentaries about the sea world; the melodies in the manner of François De Roubaix; the themes that evoke the soundtracks of late-night TV sessions (those by Verneuil, those with Belmondo, Depardieu, etc.); and the sci-fi ambiences like in Blade Runner.” In short, an aesthetic was decided on by Simon very early on: French analog synths instead of North American symphonic orchestras.

The name Joshua has two meanings for French 79: one is linked to the idea of nostalgia, the other to adventure. On the one hand, the computer in the 1983 movie Wargames, and on the other, the boat of French sailor Bernard Moitessier.

The track titled Joshua synthesizes the spirit of the album – an odyssey, a neverending crossing of the world in search of oneself, a spontaneous escape into the future, under the benevolent eye of the past. This epic invites everyone of us to a specific place in our imagination, which is also the source of an indescribable pleasure for French 79: a gust of wind, a sailboat ride, a skateboarding trick, the smell of freshly fallen snow, or the dull roar of an impatient audience.

The same aesthetic preferences are found in the videos that illustrate Joshua’s first tracks: for Hold On, the skateboarder chose to recall the cult ’90s skate videos that he would watch on repeat as a teenager, while Hometown hints at Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Although he now calls Marseille home, Simon continuously draws with passion from the anachronic contemporaneity of his childhood in the Eastern French region.

“I need escape to be able to create. A two or three-day sailing trip gives me enough inspiration to lock myself in the studio for a week when I’m back on dry land.” His boat takes him far away from everything, far from the Old Port where she moors, the rest of the time Simon would escape by walking the streets of his city or climbing the Alpine mountains.

Not only does the new version French 79 reveal a few biographical pieces of Simon henner's history, but it also inaugurates the first vocal track for the musician. One feels a guilty pleasure when hearing him take the lead on the first track, The Remedy. The electronic fugue that opens the album sets the tone: Simon has found the cure for his inner turmoil and wants us to discover our own treatment too. Hold On is a sonic explosion that celebrates the feeling of freedom - what's more of a teenage dream than this feeling - and it eventually command one to feel the same way too. Echoing Olympic, the electronic argonaut invites his muse again, singer Sarah Rebecca. On By Your Side and Touch The Stars, the native of Ocean Springs, Mississippi, now based in Paris, hoisted the mainsail of dream pop. First, though a dialogue that surfaced their unfailing attachment to the bonds of friendship, then through the light hearted atmosphere that leaves us with no choice but to believe in our own dreams and do anything possible to fulfill them. The quest for peace in the midst of the daily din is heard in both Code Zero and the title track Joshua, two majestic journeys in search of hedonism, combined with introspection.

After the exploration of snowy mountains of Alpestres, released on Hands in the Dark in 2018, French composer Matthias Puech ventures into new territories, sketching a cartography of the invisible where the journey, in chiaroscuro, is announced as a rite of passage. A Geography of Absence, as introspective as unpredictable, immerses the listener into a unique sensory whirlwind where organic matter becomes almost palpable. A researcher in theoretical computer science and an engineer at GRM, Matthias Puech constructs a dialog between synthetic music and field recording, capturing sounds that surround him and creating his own sonic language with the help of synthesizers he designs and develops; notably the Oscillator Ensemble and the Tapographic Delay, made by the American company 4ms.

Composed during a moment marked by ordeal and mourning, A Geography of Absence retraces an inner journey where the physicality of sound leads the listener into an initiatory tunnel filled with apparitions, ghosts, visions. With sound oscillations as a navigational map, we progress, step by step, through the meanders of an unknown world, dazzled by the prospect of a new synthetic horizon, an electronic biotope teeming with life and incarnations. Playing with time, space and matter in an approach similar to that of musique concrète, Matthias Puech combines ambient and noise, floating sounds and electroacoustic experimentations, thus shaking up our listening perspective, which finds itself walking through a parallel universe, strata after strata, sequence after sequence.

The trip begins with “Hollow”, as if on board a night train travelling at full speed through ghost towns. Or is it a spaceship? Removed from their original habitat, sounds – picked up during walks or moduled by synths – are free to be interpreted differently by everyone, according to the memories that shape us. Granular and metallic, this first piece takes us to an elsewhere in orbit. "Work Song" is built around the pulsation of the void, of space, where strange creatures and liquid emanations abound. We become fetus, cocoon coiled in the placenta, heart beating to the rhythm of the gooey choreography of the human body. "Chrysalis" awakens the racket that lies dormant in us, when the skin changes, when the transition takes place. One seems to recognize certain sounds stemming from nature but they could also be mirages, imitating reality to render the barely perceptible engulfing. “Tunnel Vision” brings out a herd of haunted bells, slowly swelling in a pastoral maelstrom, ending in a deafening buzz. Further on, the chirping of an animatronic bird mixes with the hooting of an owl: "A Faint Beacon" invokes a nocturnal vigil that mixes the crackling of a fire and icy gusts of wind blowing everything away. Like an epic, sucking the listener into the breach of a black hole in the center of the Milky Way, it's up to "Homeostasis" to conclude in the high spheres and contemplative vapors, where the balance of dawn announces a rebirth.

A Geography of Absence is a meticulous and sensitive piece that constructs a delicate symphony of extremes, between introspection and desire for the unknown. Accompanied by the ink work of the artist Léa Neuville, whose folds of prints sketch this imaginary atlas, Matthias Puech becomes a narrator of mental adventures. And succeeds once again in transcending reality to dig a path to the unspeakable.

Clear Vinyl

Post-punk/new wave hero Ann Margaret Hogan’s second album of solo piano and field recordings for Downwards is a box of subtle wonders, mastered by Veronica Vasicka and highly recommended if yr into Satie, Virginia Astley, Sarah Davachi.
A weight of history flows through Hogan’s keys with a stark intimacy, beautifully illuminated by naturally effortless, quietly grand songwriting. It’s a direct continuation of the landscaped themes
and atavism of 2020’s ‘Honeysuckle Burials’ and the ‘Reversing Into Tomorrow’ collaboration with Karl O’Connor, vividly capturing the slow passage of time in a way that has quite literally compelled
us to stop the relentless mind-grind for its 40 minute duration on more than one occasion.
After previous fixations on the iron age forts and burial mounds of the Clywdian Range in North Wales, Hogan transmutes the scenery of her more immediate locale, Oxton on The Wirral - from the cadence of its red sandstone landmark Thor’s Rock, to memories of its boating lake, for example - into a quiet yet ravishing suite inflected with traces of wildlife and industry recorded on long walks, all subsumed within a deep blue estuarial atmosphere silted by the strange reality of life in
the current era, echoing the surreal, sunny period when the album was conceived.
A generation on from her pivotal work with spar Marc Almond and likes of Deux Filles and Nick Cave, and forty generations since The Wirral hosted, as she says “a Norse parliament at Thingwall”,
Hogan weaves time and place into a reflective, funereal sort of parlour music, turning daily ambulations amid the gorse and under luminous skies into gorgeous, life affirming and intimate self expressions.
The eight pieces are mostly improvised and flow with a free, fleeting concision from the palpable warmth of ‘Forgotten Prelude’ and bluesy ache of ‘Fragile Elements’ to more funereal modes in ’Mesto’ and ‘Funeral Cargo’ suggestive of a Viking burial soundtrack. At its core, ‘Wolfswalzer’, a dedication to her one time collaborator and erstwhile Kraftwerk member Wolfgang Flür - is described by Hogan as “a simple waltz of coffee, food, friends and music”, and ‘Impromptu’ is the
album’s slowest, soaked in the feeling of atmospheric immanence that defines the album’s timeless appeal. It’s an unspeakably moving album, words really do it no justice.

In a release inspired by the smooth rhythms of the region's past, Atlanta-based Dog Bite offers more music medicine in the form of Tranquilizers. The sophomore release transcends the reverie state of Velvet Changes in pursuit of a darker, more full-bodied experience. Tranquilizers migrates into a dreamy sonic realm enveloped in its own soulful influence. Frontman Phil Jones found his extensive listening to iconic R&B musicians such as Otis Redding and Isaac Hayes to be the original muse for the album. In its formation it began as a soul record; however, at its core the release remains grounded in Dog Bite's beloved shoegaze landscapes. With the support of Woody Shortridge on bass and Tak Takemura on drums, Dog Bite purposefully evades sedation through its blend of smoky textures across divergent genres. Being an album submerged between the differences of classic funk and rock music, it is Jones' customary croon that weaves a common mesh in the record's diverse artistry. First making music at the end of his high school days, 23-year-old Phil Jones began Dog Bite after dropping out of the Savannah College of Art and Design. Influenced by the work of J Dilla, Portishead, Caribou, Panda Bear and The Roots, Jones began self-releasing tracks, followed-by a 7-inch and CD on Young Turks. While later touring as the keyboardist to Washed Out he picked up an acoustic guitar and composed his debut-full length, Velvet Changes, released on Carpark in early 2013. In support of Velvet Changes, Dog Bite embarked on an extensive North American winter tour with labelmate Toro Y Moi. The two marked the occasion with a split 7. Jones returns with his newest release on Carpark, the LA EP. In addition to his time with Washed Out, Jones has appeared on a matthewdavid release and produced for Mood Rings and Bosco. As one half of Acid Flashback, he's crafted tunes for the voice of Karen Jacobs (of Toronto's Free Kisses). Dog Bite performs live as a four-piece, featuring Jones' friend Woody Shortridge formerly of defunct Atlanta band Balkans.

Repress !

Where We're Calling From
The Liminal Zone: Reflections on Duval Timothy’s Sen Am
Lamin Fofana

Sen Am is an enduring and tender album, rich and beguiling and generous in a quiet way. Over the last few years, I find myself returning to it, listening and absorbing, reflecting on the voices and working through the multiple layers of feelings and themes it announces with confidence and equanimity. Notions of care and contradiction, expressions of joy and desire and the underlying feeling of unease and turmoil; there is an urgent appeal to the listener for generosity, to strengthen our capacity to hear multiple voices simultaneously, to exist in multiple places at once.

Duval Timothy’s music was dropped into our world from another realm sometime in the spring of 2017. We received the call and we answered it. The rhythm and spirit was transmitted via London’s NTS Radio on the Do!! You!!! Breakfast Show with Charlie Bones and a short while later we were listening to the first vinyl edition of Sen Am in our living room in Berlin. The record got a lot of plays (at home and at some shows, before and after performances). It was like sunlight filtering through a cracked window and remaining there for a moment, dancing. Blue music emanating from a liminal zone, an in-between space, somewhere on the outskirts of Freetown, or rural Sierra Leone, or the outer edges of South London, or Bath, UK, or some undisclosed orbit, unfixed location. The music is soaked in diasporic experiences. It refuses to settle but still invites us to enter and stay awhile in that zone, where multiple forms exist (all) together with jazz, hip-hop, various strands of expressive electronics and experimental music all breathing together and moving around. It is a portal to a place of possibilities, a space for building and repairing possible and lost connections. But life in that liminal zone is precarious; it is life under duress; under pressure – not merely the pressure to produce a presentable, categorizable, and salable body of work, but the pressure that compels us to experiment and create new concepts and things that will help us imagine a different existence, a way out of the turbulence.

Freetown is a marvellous and sometimes sad place. It is one of those unmistakable locations inscribed diasporic memory; a place that touches you, a place that holds you and demands you bear witness: witness to pain, poverty, joy and desire. You remember the voices and the eyes of people even in momentary encounters. In Sen Am, you hear not only Duval’s recollections and sounds of Freetown, you hear family and friendship, people coming together and forming bonds, creating surrogate families. Forging community wherever you go is a practice, and community is at the core of this music. It’s in all the voices, from Emmerson and 6pac to Aminata and Aruna. It opens up a space for Black voices, for Sierra Leonean voices, and those voices extend through the succeeding projects, the 2 Sim EP and the album Help, and all that radiates from Duval’s Carrying Colour imprint.

Thank you for the invitation to write about the album Sen Am, on the occasion of its re-release which also coincides with the release of the exquisite double 7” Smɔl Smɔl with cktrl — a wonderful piece which calls on the listener to play both records at the same time to hear the music or play them separately and hear different versions. Duval is strengthening us, encouraging us to feel comfortable with discomfort, with incompleteness, with the hard-to-understand. This is a beautiful thing.

Arthur Satan from French garage psych rock band J.C. Satan’s debut solo album on Born Bad.
The distinctive backing choirs on “Free” are reminiscent of an encounter between the Pole Krzysztof Komeda (“Fearless Vampire Killers”, the soundtrack of
“Rosemary’s Baby”) and the American collective Elephant 6 (the Apples in Stereo, Elf Power, Neutral Milk Hotel, of Montreal, The Olivia Tremor Control etc.)
“The Nap” is teatime: Arthur’s the host, John Fahey the guest.
“Summer” starts off like a lullaby on the metallophone and evolves into something of a Donovan song, minus the unexpected crankshaft solo.
“Love bleeds from you neck” is somewhere between acid folk song and medieval lament.
“Time Is Mine” might be the track most evocative of J.C. Satàn… Though actually all the tracks on ‘So Far So Good’ hover between tradition and modernity,
obscure sunshine pop, good old classics and weird experiments.
“She’s Long Gone” evokes Brian Wilson’s Beach Boys roaming through the English countryside looking for the perfect cottage

From boundary-pushing koto musicians to experimental jazz virtuosi,
Japanese music has long embraced all things avant-garde.
This Rough Guide highlights some of today’s key innovators whose individualism challenges the conformist perception of Japan.
A unique insight into the richness and diversity of the vibrant underground Japanese scene, which draws on myriad influences from free jazz and electronica to Zen budhism. Pioneering artists who push the boundaries of Japanese music, whilst at the same time paying respect to their musical heritage. Featuring tracks by free-spirited Koto players Michiyo Yagi, Karin, as well as koto/guitar duo tsuMGuito.
Compiled by the renowned radio presenter, journalist, and Japanese music expert Paul Fisher.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder. An evolution of her early 1980's Edinburgh-based punk band The Freeze, she launched the project upon moving to London, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. After a series of celebrated albums for the Midnight Music label as well as collaborations with This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins, Cinder migrated to the United States, becoming involved with various underground techno collectives around the Midwest and West Coast. Subsequent relocations to Hong Kong and Japan further expanded Cindytalk's horizons, resulting in a fruitful partnership with Viennese experimental institution Editions Mego, for whom she released five albums of swooning, granular atmosphere. 2021 finds her as engaged as ever, at the precipice of long-awaited back catalog reissues alongside multiple new works, guided by her lasting love of discovery and deviation: “new pathways always being uncovered.”

Across decades of activity Cinder’s body of work has forever followed its own elusive muse but nowhere is this restless spirit more apparent and ambitious than the 4th Cindytalk LP, Wappinschaw. Conceived as “a call to arms” inspired by Scotland and its struggle for independence, the title refers to an archaic Scottish battle inspection during which clan chieftains surveyed their group's weapons to ensure they were combat ready. A mindset of reflective preparation threads throughout the record, manifested in forms both naked and noisy, ancient and anguished.

Opening with an aching solo vocal rendition of the British folk standard “The First Time Ever (I Saw Your Face),” the album then surges into the Cindytalk classic, “A Song Of Changes,” sparkling and spiraling in strange waves of sorrow and joy. From there the mood fragments, tracing asymmetrical paths of feverish dirge, pensive spirituals, noir abstraction, spoken word (landmark Glaswegian writer Alasdair Gray guests on “Wheesht”), bagpipe drone, and apocalyptic post-punk. Given its aggressive eclecticism, it's not surprising that Cinder describes the creation of Wappinschaw as a “precarious” process, composed from “scraps” with abruptly shifting personnel – a situation only compounded by the impending dissolution of their label at the time, Midnight Music.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder. An evolution of her early 1980's Edinburgh-based punk band The Freeze, she launched the project upon moving to London, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. After a series of celebrated albums for the Midnight Music label as well as collaborations with This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins, Cinder migrated to the United States, becoming involved with various underground techno collectives around the Midwest and West Coast. Subsequent relocations to Hong Kong and Japan further expanded Cindytalk's horizons, resulting in a fruitful partnership with Viennese experimental institution Editions Mego, for whom she released five albums of swooning, granular atmosphere. 2021 finds her as engaged as ever, at the precipice of long-awaited back catalog reissues alongside multiple new works, guided by her lasting love of discovery and deviation: “new pathways always being uncovered.”

Across decades of activity Cinder’s body of work has forever followed its own elusive muse but nowhere is this restless spirit more apparent and ambitious than the 4th Cindytalk LP, Wappinschaw. Conceived as “a call to arms” inspired by Scotland and its struggle for independence, the title refers to an archaic Scottish battle inspection during which clan chieftains surveyed their group's weapons to ensure they were combat ready. A mindset of reflective preparation threads throughout the record, manifested in forms both naked and noisy, ancient and anguished.

Opening with an aching solo vocal rendition of the British folk standard “The First Time Ever (I Saw Your Face),” the album then surges into the Cindytalk classic, “A Song Of Changes,” sparkling and spiraling in strange waves of sorrow and joy. From there the mood fragments, tracing asymmetrical paths of feverish dirge, pensive spirituals, noir abstraction, spoken word (landmark Glaswegian writer Alasdair Gray guests on “Wheesht”), bagpipe drone, and apocalyptic post-punk. Given its aggressive eclecticism, it's not surprising that Cinder describes the creation of Wappinschaw as a “precarious” process, composed from “scraps” with abruptly shifting personnel – a situation only compounded by the impending dissolution of their label at the time, Midnight Music.

For the Perth group, creativity and production hasn’t stopped in 2020. Despite
much of this year’s tour plans being put on pause, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets have used their time off road to continue preparing themselves for the release of their fourth studio release, and an eventual blistering return to stages
around the world with a heavy-hitter of an album primed for the live space.
Psychedelic Porn Crumpets have already given fans an early taste of the forthcoming SHYGA! era, with ‘Mr. Prism’ in August. The creation of SHYGA! The
Sunlight Mound, especially off the back of 2019’s huge LP And Now For The
Whatchamacallit, came together in a different environment for McEwan and
the results speak to the band’s evolution and McEwan’s evolution as a songwriter.
“For the first time in a long time I was home without any tours booked, no
work, no deadlines and I felt free to create. My writing process became ritualistic; every morning starting with a small walk to the local bottle shop at 11am
and writing whatever flowed, allowing myself to design in all styles without
boundaries, and not trying to theme the album early on. I haven’t had the luxury of writing this way since the first record, which I spent almost a year working
on. It felt like I was myself again, creating without opinion or constraints. I was
gliding through weeks with a day seeming to pass.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder. An evolution of her early 1980's Edinburgh-based punk band The Freeze, she launched the project upon moving to London, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. After a series of celebrated albums for the Midnight Music label as well as collaborations with This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins, Cinder migrated to the United States, becoming involved with various underground techno collectives around the Midwest and West Coast. Subsequent relocations to Hong Kong and Japan further expanded Cindytalk's horizons, resulting in a fruitful partnership with Viennese experimental institution Editions Mego, for whom she released five full-lengths of swooning, granular atmosphere. 2021 finds her as engaged as ever, at the precipice of long-awaited back catalog reissues alongside multiple new works, guided by her lasting love of discovery and deviation: “new pathways always being uncovered.”

The 3rd album by Scottish industrial enigma Cinder aka Cindytalk began life as the soundtrack to an experimental film by English director Ivan Unnwin entitled Eclipse (The Amateur Enthusiast's Guide To Virus Deployment), and was originally slated for release via Factory Records' video division, Ikon. Inspired heavily by Alan Splet's eerily disembodied sound design in David Lynch's Eraserhead, the collection's 15 pieces seethe between field recordings, wistful piano vignettes, and lurking metallic haze – a hybrid palette Cinder characterized at the time as “ambi-dustrial.” Unfortunately Ikon collapsed on the eve of the project's completion so the film was never distributed, but the Midnight Music imprint repackaged Cindytalk's score as an LP in 1990 under the name The Wind Is Strong... (full title: The Wind Is Strong - A Sparrow Dances, Piercing Holes in Our Sky).

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder. An evolution of her early 1980's Edinburgh-based punk band The Freeze, she launched the project upon moving to London, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. After a series of celebrated albums for the Midnight Music label as well as collaborations with This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins, Cinder migrated to the United States, becoming involved with various underground techno collectives around the Midwest and West Coast. Subsequent relocations to Hong Kong and Japan further expanded Cindytalk's horizons, resulting in a fruitful partnership with Viennese experimental institution Editions Mego, for whom she released five full-lengths of swooning, granular atmosphere. 2021 finds her as engaged as ever, at the precipice of long-awaited back catalog reissues alongside multiple new works, guided by her lasting love of discovery and deviation: “new pathways always being uncovered.”

The 3rd album by Scottish industrial enigma Cinder aka Cindytalk began life as the soundtrack to an experimental film by English director Ivan Unnwin entitled Eclipse (The Amateur Enthusiast's Guide To Virus Deployment), and was originally slated for release via Factory Records' video division, Ikon. Inspired heavily by Alan Splet's eerily disembodied sound design in David Lynch's Eraserhead, the collection's 15 pieces seethe between field recordings, wistful piano vignettes, and lurking metallic haze – a hybrid palette Cinder characterized at the time as “ambi-dustrial.” Unfortunately Ikon collapsed on the eve of the project's completion so the film was never distributed, but the Midnight Music imprint repackaged Cindytalk's score as an LP in 1990 under the name The Wind Is Strong... (full title: The Wind Is Strong - A Sparrow Dances, Piercing Holes in Our Sky).

Recorded in a rare moment of freedom between lockdowns, Flightcase represents the joy of collaboration and the importance of human connection.
This is an album of many voices. Influences ranging from Herbie Hancock to Sun Ra, but also from other projects Akin is involved in, Amara & GABO, shine through in an album which acknowledges the various music that inspires and influences Akin, whilst trying to create something new and unique.

Akin Subscribes to the philosophy of allowing each musician to create however they feel to, trying to do little more than create the framework and allow the other musicians to express themselves within this. This felt particularly important in a time marred by restrictions.