Suche:freedom sessions

Music From Memory is thrilled to present ‘Aquáticos’, a captivating new record from Los Angeles producer Eddie Ruscha and Brazilian guitarist Fabiano Do Nascimento. Blending Nascimento’s expressive, Afro-samba and choro-inflected guitar with Ruscha’s cosmic, groove-driven sound, ‘Aquáticos’ marks the start of a vibrant musical partnership—an organic, free-spirited collaboration full of interplay and vitality.

Conceived during the early 2020’s, ‘Aquáticos’ grew from a series of recording sessions in which the music unfolded naturally, in a state of effortless flow. Album opener ‘Nascer,’ the very first piece they recorded, captures such a moment perfectly: Nascimento’s 7- and 10-string nylon guitars weave seamlessly with Ruscha’s modular synths, drum machines, and vintage keyboards. Like much of Ruscha’s work under Secret Circuit and E Ruscha V, it is rich in lush, rhythmic textures—pulsing and bubbling with vibrant energy.

The initial session that produced the opening track set the tone for the record, establishing a template of intuitive interplay and musical freedom. Each subsequent session built upon the last, gradually shaping ‘Aquáticos’ across nine tracks, all characterized by melodic richness, rhythmic depth, and an unshakable sense of spontaneity.

‘Aquáticos’ pulls the listener gently into a celebration of musical conversation — a radiant, immersive journey where Ruscha and Nascimento’s instruments breathe together, echoing the joy, curiosity, and playful spirit that define their collaboration.

Sleeve art and design by Michael Willis.

Jackie Mittoo, organ and piano maestro, was also one of the founding members of Jamaica's top session band The Skatalites. Musical arranger for Studio One he provided the backbone to so many of Jamaica's finest tunes. The invention of Ska music and the sounds that rode through the Rocksteady and Reggae period all carry his stamp. Whether it be in his various incarnations, the aforementioned Skatalites, The Soul Brothers, Soul Vendors and the Sound Dimension or under his own name, his distinctive organ and piano sound and musical arrangements have all played a major part in Jamaica's musical history.

Jackie Mittoo (born 1948, Kingston, Jamaica) began playing musical instruments at a very early age. Taught piano by his grandmother he was performing live by the age of 10 and recording by the age of 15. Two Kingston bands that he played with the Rivals and the Sheiks brought him to the attention of Studio One's founder Coxsone Dodd. Who at the time was putting a group of musicians together to be his studio band. Impressed by his skills on both the organ and the piano, Jackie was asked to join in what would become Jamaica's foremost band The Skatalites. The fellow band members were Lloyd Brevett (bass), Lloyd Knibbs (drums), Don Drummond (trombone), Tommy McCook, Roland Alphonso and Lester Sterling (Sax), Johnny Moore (trumpet), Jah Jerry (guitar) and Mr Mittoo (piano). This line up ruled the Jamaican scene between 1964 - 1965 as well as inventing the Ska sound, they also performed the backing duties for the other top labels of the time including Duke Reid's Treasure Isle and Justin Yap's Top Deck label.

1965 saw The Skatalites disband and Jackie Mittoo move on to his next musical project The Soul Brothers. Formed with fellow Skatalite Roland Alphonso, this band would back all the hits coming out of Studio One for the next three years with Jackie Mittoo working as band leader and musical arranger. Around this time Jackie also had his own single released, a Ska underground classic called 'Got My Bugaloo'. Rare, as it also features Jackie in the unusual role for him, as lead singer!!!!.

1966 saw the Ska sound evolve into Rocksteady, again with Jackie's band at the helm, and his first hit single the Rocksteady cut 'Ram Jam'. The success of which would lead to a solo career and album releases under his own name such as 'Now', 'Macka Fat', 'Evening Time', 'In London' and 'Keep on Dancing', to name but a few. In1967 the hits at Studio One were still flowing when The Soul Brothers morphed into The Soul Venders and began backing such luminaries as Ken Boothe, Alton Ellis, Delroy Wilson, The Heptones, The Cables, The Wailers and many other of the labels solo artists.

By 1968 Jamaican music was ready for another change and Rocksteady rolled into a slower groove soon to be called Reggae. Jackie Mittoo would be at the forefront with his latest band The Sound Dimension. A line up that included Leroy Sibbles (bass), Roland Alphonso and Cedric Brooks (saxophone), Eric Frater and Ernest Ranglin (guitar) and Bunny Williams (drums). Being the house band at Studio One they backed all the leading names of the time, John Holt, Horace Andy and Alton Ellis, all of Studio One's output carried his sound.

Jackie Mittoo emigrated in the late 60's to Canada, but travelled to Jamaica and London to record with many of the big new names, who were trying to redress Studio One's supremacy and needed his magic touch. Such Producers as Bunny Lee used Jackie Mittoo on many of his sessions, Sugar Minott among others were always glad of his services.

We have captured some fine 1970's cuts that feature Jackies numerous talents, showing his ability to embellish tracks with a feel that few could better, Musical arranger, band leader all round studio ace. We hope you enjoy the set and I'm sure you'll agree with us Jackie Mittoo does indeed Ride On.........

NPVR is the avant garde duo made up of the late Peter Rehberg and Nik Void. Editions Mego is proud to present their second and final release. No this is not some kind of Beatles synthetic AI that raises the dead reconstructed recordings but rather a new album made by the humans and their machines.

The initial meeting of Rehberg and Void was in London in 2016 and despite or due to their mutual awkwardness found solace and compatibility in the fact that they both had a similar electronic modular set up, along with matching cases to transport all. The idea to collaborate was an obvious and organic process as a means to connect their individual gear together and observe the outcome. The fruits of these initial experiments, recorded in London, resulted in the playful experimentation of their acclaimed 2017 release 33 33 (eMego 251).

Now in 2024 Editions Mego presents the logically titled follow up, 33 34. These sessions were recorded six months after the initial recordings at Peter’s home in Vienna. This was planned out as a mirror city release to the original London recordings. With Peter having access to his full studio set up this time around we encounter a rich audio landscape which organically folds together a variety of musical genres blurring any distinction between these forms so the resulting music hovers as a new cloud of sound. Any musical form, be it industrial, electro-acoustic, ambient, drone and techno all coexist and melt into the other as the ensuing result unveils a hypnotic swarm of divergent sounds (music). When active there were no lines or contexts with NPVR, either between sound or genre within these recordings or live where NPVR were at home playing at a techno club one night and an avant garde venue the next.

The initial session of these recordings was edited by Rehberg and sent to Void to further develop. Over time the final versions were agreed on and then shelved as other outside projects took over. The awkwardness had been surmounted and the two had become close friends. NPVR performed at a range of venues such as Tresor, Sutton House, Corsica, Blitz, Paris GRM #Focus2, LEV Festival and Rigas Skanumezs Festival. Following Rehberg’s untimely passing Void had difficulty listening back to the sessions but eventually thought it fit to complete and release this album, of which even the artwork (like 33 33, an image from Zurich photographer, Georg Gatsas) had been decided upon prior to Rehberg parting ways.

There is an unmistakable joy to these recordings. One encounters an enthralling exploration of their chosen machines which conveys the excitement of what can be randomly conjured when people speak through such devices. There is no grand statement or argument here, just the sheer thrill of creation and the recorded results of random encounters. The art of collaboration was always a mainstay of Rehberg’s practice from the advent of the MEGO adventure. Rehberg & Bauer was an initial collaboration with former business partner Ramon Bauer. Even at this stage one can hear a relaxed sense of delight in the sheer discovery of sound.

A mix made for the Wire magazine following the release of 33 33 hints at the freedom that comes with endless urge for exploration and discovery. Abstract tracks from Z'EV. Jérôme Noetinger and Jung An Tagen are included alongside British stalwarts The Fall and New Order. There were no lines between pop / academic / underground or mainstream in Rehberg’s world. All of it sat at the same table. It is just matter in the atmosphere, like the diverse exploration found in these recordings that comprise 33 34.

Towards the end of his life Rehberg was obsessing over the immense output of the German ambient musician Pete Namlook. An artist renowned for not only his sprawling catalogue of ambient masterpieces but one who often said his main inspiration was nature. This is apt with regards to the work of NPVR which also aligns with such thought as the intertwining of the two individual artists and their machines results in a natural symbiotic flow, as it happens, just like in the world around us.

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

Elations Recordings presents "Return of the Airpoets", an exploratory recording from longtime collaborators Reuben Lewis (I Hold The Lion's Paw) & Adam Halliwell (Mildlife, IHTLP), occupying a unique space between contemporary experimental music and avant jazz. Engineered and mixed by Reuben Lewis in 2023, and featuring guest appearances from acclaimed Australian drummer Ronny Ferella.

"Return of the Airpoets" continues a conversation begun with 'Cygon Dance', an extended duo between Lewis and Halliwell from Halliwell's 2023 LP "Freedom Lapse"; a dialogue that stems from a shared love and respect for Jon Hassell's Fourth World music. Sonic pioneer and adventurer, Hassell's futuristic vision advocated possible musics, stressing plurality and multiplicity. Faithful to his vision, Adam and Reuben, as trailblazers rather than imitators, delight in boundless musical possibilities, adopting Hassell's futurism as stock-in-trade, making it their own while augmented with neo noir hues and hints of the tilted electro-funk of Miles Davis' collaborations with Marcus Miller.

These nine tracks flow together as a unified suite, their shadowy presence stitched from fractured narratives: imaginary crimes, murders, dreams, the unspoken. At the same time, you can detect the artists' meticulous attention to sonic detail, feel the undercurrents, the complex layering. This music has been distilled, winnowed, from extended improv sessions, with the artists - as producers - zeroing in on offcuts, shards, and splinters, seamlessly patching together fragments in post-production to construct intricately layered sound collages, taking a leaf out of Tao Macero's book, building from the ground up.

Who are these airpoets? Their mystifying trial suggests the travails of Joseph K, sentenced for unspecified crimes. But I prefer to see them as fugitives escaped from Robert Bolaño's novel, "Savage Detectives". In Bolaño's book, poet Juan Garcia Madero is granted admission to the shadowy group of poets, the Visceral Realists, whose movement has no clear aims, and whose members "walked backward . . . gazing at a point in the distance, but moving away from it, walking straight toward the unknown." Like the visceral poets, these airpoets, Reuben Lewis and Adam Halliwell, set their sights on a point on the distant horizon, setting off without map or compass, drawing nearer and moving away, towards the unknown.

Drummer and NEA Jazz Master Billy Hart releases his first live album, MULTIDIRECTIONAL, with his longtime all-star quartet featuring saxophonist Mark Turner, pianist Ethan Iverson, and bassist Ben Street. --- Legendary drummer Billy Hart credits the great Rashied Ali for introducing him to the term “multidirectional” – a descriptor for the elusive, daring approach to the kit that Hart and others of his generation had developed intuitively in response to the increasing freedom and exploration of the era’s jazz experimentation. “Rashied Ali told me that ‘multidirectional’ was what John Coltrane called this freeform feel, where conventional structure was abandoned and the rhythms could cut in any direction,” he writes in Oceans of Time: The Musical Autobiography of Billy Hart, his captivating new memoir. Hart had begun to explore that style under the influence of Coltrane’s pioneering work, first venturing into the terrain while playing with Pharoah Sanders at the famed East Village club Slugs’. More than half a century later, Hart has refined and evolved the approach into a singular percussive voice of unparalleled elegance, finesse, and intricacy – as exemplified on MULTIDIRECTIONAL, the first live recording by his longstanding quartet featuring tenor saxophonist Mark Turner, pianist Ethan Iverson, and bassist Ben Street.

If any album could conjure up the revolutionary spirit of Jamaica in the mid 1970’s, Tapper Zukie’s invincible M.P.L.A. set would surely be a fighting contender. The coming together of great rhythms and meaningful lyrics in a time of unrest in the country seemed to have made the album all the more urgent and relevant. As time would tell it would also prove to be a lasting success, not only with the hard core reggae fans but also their punk counterparts. Who embraced its militant themes and crossed the album over to a whole new audience. Tapper Zukie (b. David Sinclair, Kingston, Jamaica.) had already returned from a trip to London England by the mid 70’s .Initially sent with help from his parents, brother Blackbeard and producer Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee to remove the youth from his troublesome ways on the streets of Kingston, Jamaica. He had performed some live shows in London and made some recordings for Larry Lawrence, that produced his debut ‘Jump and Twist’. Alongside other recordings that would emerge as his ‘Man A Warrior’ set. But feeling homesick he had returned to Jamaica in 1974 to work with Bunny Lee. His work would consist of arranging sessions and collecting payments to bodyguard, the now very successful producer. His frustration of Bunny Lee’s reluctance to record him led him cutting ‘Judge I Oh Lord’ for producer Lloydie Slim. Bunny Lee’s then recording of Tapper’s ’Natty Dread Don’t Cry’ and its subsequent release aboard, led to an altercation between Tapper and producer. The police had to be called and an offer to provide the singer with a set of rhythms put this matter to rest. The eight rhythms and a further two from Jo Jo Hookim and Ossie Hibbert alongside some free studio time at King Tubby’s Studio would result in the M.P.L.A album.

The rhythm provided by Jo Jo Hookim was a Channel One studio cut by The Revolutionaires based on Little Richards ‘Freedom Blues’ and provided the backdrop to M.P.L.A. The Ossie Hibbert rhythm again cut at Channel One based on The Royals ‘Pick Up The Rockers’ would provide the backdrop to Tapper’s ‘Pick Up The Rockers’. These and the remaining Bunny Lee rhythms, were all cut in a one hour session, at King Tubby’s Studio. ’Don’t Get Crazy’ cut on a rhythm based on the Joe Frazier rhythm to Tony Brevett’s ‘Don’t Get Weary’. ‘Go De Natty’ cut on Cornell Campbell’s ‘Please Be True’, originally a cut to Alexander Henry’s ‘Please Be True’. ‘Stop The Gun Shooting’ runs over Horace Andy’s ‘Skylarking’.’Ital Pot’ cut on Johnny Clarke’s version of Burning Spear’s ‘Creation Rebel. ‘Marcus’ see’s Tapper professing over Johnny Clarke’s ‘Poor Marcus’ .’Chalice To Chalice’ pulls on Johnny Clarke’s ‘Give Me a Love’,’ Don’t Deal With Babylon’ answers Junior Ross and The Spears ‘Babylon Fall’ and ‘Freedom’ rides on the great rhythm of Junior Ross and The Spears ‘Liberty’. An outstanding album cut by one of Jamaica’s finest DJ’s and producers the mighty Tapper Zukie. We hope you enjoy this now timeless set.

2025 Repress

In 2022, Daniele “Shield” Contrini of Rebirth Records proposed Paraíso to the great man himself, a compilation honouring Alfredo’s legacy. After Alfredo’s passing in December 2024, the project was final; with artists rallying to honour his vision and memory.

Before becoming a global clubbing hotspot, Ibiza embodied freedom—a place where sunrises blurred into sunsets and music became a way of life. In the 1950s and '60s, the island drew artists, hippies, and outsiders seeking escape and creative liberty.

In 1976, Alfredo Fiorito, fleeing political repression in Argentina, arrived in Ibiza and stayed. A former music journalist, he soon began DJing at Amnesia, a farmhouse-turned-club where time bent and boundaries dissolved. With eclectic, genre-defying sets, Alfredo blended reggae, flamenco, soul, rock, and early house, crafting a hypnotic energy that captivated a generation.

British DJs like Trevor Fung, Paul Oakenfold and Danny Rampling brought this “Balearic Beat” back home. But Balearic wasn’t a style it was a mindset. As DJ Leo Mas said, it was “a state of mind,” where rhythm, spirit, and psychedelia merged.

Other clubs like KU, Es Paradis, Pacha, and Lola’s amplified the movement. Visual artists such as Yves Uro gave it a striking identity, and DJs like César de Melero, DJ Pippi, and Jon Sa Trinxa carried the sound into a new era. José Padilla’s sunset sessions at Café del Mar birthed chill-out music as breath, not just beat.

But the 1990s brought change. Laws requiring roofs on clubs altered the open-air magic. Commercialisation followed; freedom became luxury, and many pioneers left.

Still, the Balearic spirit lives—raw and untamed. It pulses in hidden parties, intimate venues like Pikes and Hostal La Torre, and sacred places like Benirrás and Las Dalias.

Featuring 16 tracks of classic and true Balearic sound; alongside House & proto-House tracks that Mr Fiorito spun, the album also includes an unreleased Alfredo track and stands as a tribute to the man, the music, and the enduring spirit of true Ibiza.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Alanis Morissette Delivers the Equivalent of a Spiritual Awakening on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie:
Introspective Themes and Compassionate Emotions on Eastern-Tinged Album Have Grown More Relevant
1998 Smash Plays with Enhanced Detail, Rich Textures, and Sharp Focus on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set:
First-Ever Audiophile Edition Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies
1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Alanis Morissette refuses to adhere to convention on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. While most artists follow-up their breakthrough with an album that closely parallels the approaches that helped make them famous, the maverick singer-songwriter stayed true to herself and drew inspiration from travel to India before she began the recording sessions. As much as the preceding Jagged Little Pill put her on the global radar, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie confirmed her role as a vital generational voice — and proved her blockbuster success was no fluke. Having set a mark for most sales of an LP in its debut week by a female artist, the 1998 smash remains a pop-rock staple.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie presents the triple-platinum LP in audiophile sound for the first time. Benefitting from defined grooves that befit the album’s nearly 72-minute length, this pressing plays with enhanced detail, refined clarity, sharper focus, and broader dynamics than prior versions.

Those traits are key given Morissette’s use of more textured and atmospheric soundscapes, not to mention her evolution into a more nuanced and controlled singer. Similarly, the scale and reach of David Campbell’s string arrangements come across as orchestrations should. Ditto the synth-based architecture shaped by producer and principal Morissette collaborator Glen Ballard. All in all, Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition simply delivers more information via transparent means.

Notable for its balance, sophistication, and richness, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie at heart finds Morissette pausing, taking a breath, and learning how to navigate life in a healthy manner after enduring one of the most exhausting and rocket-to-fame stretches any musician ever experienced. It’s the sonic equivalent of a spiritual awakening, a call to betterment, a brave assessment of the self and humanity as a whole. As such, the tunes on her second international (and fourth Canadian) release teem with gratitude, compassion, love, empathy — emotions that lend themselves to the largely mellow, contoured scope and Eastern-tinged melodies of the songs themselves.

“How ‘bout how good it feels to finally forgive you,” Morissette sings on the lead single “Thank U.” “How ‘bout grieving it all one at a time.” Those sentiments, and the vocalist’s embrace of concepts such as divinity and acceptance, not only provide a foundation on which Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie rests. They also reflect the personal maturation she gained from her embrace of Buddhist culture in India and a mindset bent toward notions of reconciliation, peace, and sensuality that were nearly absent in popular music in the late ‘90s.

Those themes continue on “That I Would Be Good,” a confident reflection that takes stock of one’s mental, physical, and emotional state in the face of both changing and unpleasant circumstances — and concludes with Morissette performing a flute solo, further exposing the raw intimacy of the introspective tune. She channels relatable simplicity and joy on “So Pure,” with her invocations of “dance” and “freestyle” speaking to the freedom of expression that courses throughout Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. And perhaps no song finds Morissette showcasing her refreshed attitude toward life and opening up more than the relationship-themed “Unsent,” whose unconventional structures and lack of a chorus only add to its directness.

Akin to many albums that were ahead of their time, and despite the critical and commercial accolades afforded it upon release, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie attracted new appreciation and perspective as it got older. Issued during an era where its ideas of serenity, absolution, tranquility, and contentment seemed largely alien, the record — akin to the ways its predecessor foreshadowed a movement — now functions as a visionary beacon that foretells of way to maintain sanity, dignity, and goodness amid a contemporary landscape filled with constant distractions, polarizing views, and incessant calls to purchase, promote, and produce without questioning the what-for purpose.

Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie dares to ask the questions and, at its best, supplies meaningful answers and alternatives that lead to longed-for enlightenment, healing, and laughter. For these reasons alone, it’s a record that never goes out of style.

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.

Vivendum est ut ea libertate utamur, quae prosit amicis, noceat nemini.
We must live to enjoy the freedom that can benefit our friends and harm no one.

Songs about the unity of Sudan, peace between Muslims and Christians and the fate of war orphans, backed by grooves equally taking influence from Arabic sounds, American funk as well as neighboring Ethiopia.

Kamal Keila was among the first artist we met in Sudan during our two trips to Khartoum and Omdurman last year. He is one of the key figures of the Sudanese jazz scene that was a vital part of the musical culture in Sudan from the mid 1960s until the islamist revolution in the late 1980s. When we meet Kamal he luckily presented us with two mold covered studio reels.
Each tape included five tracks. One with English lyrics and another with Arabic ones. Musically you can hear the influence of neighboring Ethiopia much more than on other Sudanese recordings of the time, as well as references to Fela and American funk and soul. His lyrics, at least when he sings in English which gave him more freedom from censorship, are very political. A brave statement in the political climate of Sudan of the last decades, preaching for the unity of Sudan, peace between Muslims and Christians and singing the blues about the fate of war orphans called "Shmasha".
A note inside one of the boxes specified the track titles, durations and the fact that the sessions were recorded on the 12th of august 1992. Both sessions stand as a hearable testament how Kamal Keila stuck to a sound aesthetic from decades ago, while incorporating current events into his lyrics.
Kamal Keila's album is the first in a series of releases covering the Sudanese jazz scene on Habibi Funk. Be on the lookout for albums by The Scorpions and Sharhabeel coming soon.

2LP + Download Code + 8 Page Booklet

Sunset edition - 300 copies

Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Iit is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom.

Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft.

Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before.

Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey Buckingham” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded.

The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

Words by Emmett Shoemaker

After a year-long creative process fueled by collective composition and live jam sessions, Gin Tonic Orchestra returns with "Let The Children House" on Floors Records. The EP is a testament to their ever-evolving sound, deeply rooted in live improvisation and the spirit of club music.

Recorded in the heart of the Alps at "Maison des Artistes" in Chamonix, the band surrounded themselves with legendary analog synthesizers—ARP 2600, ARP Odyssey, Clavinet D6, Fender Rhodes MKII, Jupiter 4, Jupiter 8, JX-8P, Korg M1, Moog Subsequent 37, OB-X, Oberheim SEM, Roland MV8000, Wurlitzer—to sculpt a sound pulsating with the hypnotic grooves, euphoric synths, and raw underground spirit of '90s house music. Each track was shaped with care, influenced by the group's diverse influences and their shared vision of an immersive dancefloor experience, embracing the hypnotic trance of repetitive music that blurs the line between consciousness and surrender.

Much like children lost in play, Gin Tonic Orchestra embraced chaos, letting their creativity flow freely, drawing inspiration from their mentors, and the stories passed down through club culture. The result is an EP that not only embodies their musical identity but also carries a bold statement: "Let The Children House" is a call to let artists create without constraints, a message of artistic freedom in an industry often driven by formulas.

With a background that includes a debut EP on Mother Tongue, a standout performance at Nuits Sonores ranked in Resident Advisor's Top 5, and collaborations with UK jazz-funk legend Kaidi Tatham, deep house master Ron Trent, and the H2H project led by Chez Damier & Ben Vedren, Gin Tonic Orchestra continues to push boundaries between live music and electronic culture. Their new release is both a tribute to the past and a step into the future—a journey where house music is not just played, but lived

As a founding member of Dublin experimental folk group Lankum, Ian Lynch explores submerged leylines of music and song. Forging a musical path that is all at once dark, mysterious and foreboding, but ultimately transcendental. His new solo project One Leg One Eye sees him taking a fresh approach to musical arrangement culminating in a sound that is more rooted in the raw aesthetics of second wave black metal than contemporary folk. The project was born across 2021, a period in which Lynch was able to enjoy the freedom of experimenting and exploring different paths of sound design without expectation or pressure. Seeking out interesting settings to record music and gather field recordings, there are several environments, external and interior, whose respective essence have seeped into the spirit of the music and come to represent Lynch’s artistic approach and development with this singular debut album, …And Take The Black Worm With Me. Rediscovered spaces in Dublin and the familiar enclave of his bedroom are intrinsic to the distinct and sometimes harrowing atmosphere conjured throughout the album’s five enveloping compositions. One particular location, an abandoned factory where his father worked when Ian was a child, provided a space of great inspiration and intrigue during this time. Lynch frequently visited the large abandoned warehouse and sang with his shruti box, contented in his solitude. ‘I’d Rather Be Tending My Sheep’, grew into existence from those initial sessions, eventually finding a home as an emotive centrepiece to the album. Reflecting on the overall recording of …And Take The Black Worm With Me, Lynch says, “Everything I was doing with these songs was all kind of new to me; experimenting with different sounds, textures and palettes and seeing what I could come up with by piecing it all together. I spent about a year making the album. I loved the whole process because it was basically just me in my bedroom recording everything. The experience of recording like this and having my own time to do it was amazing. I could focus on recording a specific element and happily spend all day working on that one part, doing it as many times as I wanted. At the end of the day if it didn’t feel right, I could just try it again the next day. When you’re on your own you can spend as much time as you want on particular parts until you feel that it’s absolutely perfect. I found that to be a really liberating experience. It was probably my favourite experience recording music.” The collection of songs (and their chronology) featured on …And Take The Black Worm With Me tell a story unique to Lynch’s experiences with anxiety and recognising his shadow self. Whilst the album became an outlet of personal expression for Lynch, the overarching themes and subsequent journey to confront one’s internal dichotomy of light and dark before accepting this inherent duality is universally shared. The eerie and often unsettling world contained within the album’s texturally dense opener ‘Glistening, She Emerges’, driven by the captivating drone of distorted uilleann pipes, immediately immerses the listener in this transportive work. It descends with a great heaviness, yet woven throughout the arrangement is a fascinating and indescribable entity that draws you further into this otherworldly dimension. This mood continues as the tracklist progresses and transitions into Lynch’s haunting realisation of ‘Bold and Undaunted Youth’ which further demonstrates a cinematic influence to Lynch’s compositional style. Sonically, Lynch effectively builds an impressively vast terrain with brilliantly murky lo-fi recording techniques and an unshakable curiosity to move beyond conventional structures and play with the timbre of the instruments available to him. From recording hurdy-gurdy or concertina to tape and experimenting with loops and effects pedals to stitching field recordings together, there’s an intimacy established between Lynch and his audience established through the simultaneously eerie and beautiful tones courting through …And Take The Black Worm With Me. This culminates in ‘Only the Diceys’, the extraordinary closing track in which we reach a place of resolution mapped into the album’s narrative structure. Mixed by longtime collaborator John ‘Spud’ Murphy in his Dublin-based Guerrilla Sounds Studio and mastered by Harvey Birrell …And Take The Black Worm With Me features contributions from Ruth Clinton (Landless) on church organ and vocals by Laurie Shanaman (Ails, Ludicra). Of Shanaman’s participation, in particular, which further illustrates the lo-fi and DIY ethos to the recording, Lynch says, “Laurie is my favourite black metal vocalist of all time and so I reached out to her hoping to have her involved in some way. She did, and she features on the opening track by providing some incredible screams. She recorded them into her phone and sent them over to me; what appears on the album is literally a phone recording of her screaming in her kitchen!” …And Take The Black Worm With Me continues Ian Lynch’s groundbreaking work with Lankum; recontextualising traditional forms and generating new spheres of music in his wake, confirming his status as one of the most interesting and innovative artists working in Ireland today.

Founded by Robbie Redway and psychedelic researchers Mathieu Seynaeve and WaiFung Tsang, UK-based 'United Freedom Collective' has grown into a network of artists including Jordan Stephens, Falle Nioke, Eliza Shaddad, Labdi, William Rees and Facesoul. Originally conceived around psychedelic therapy sessions, online yoga and breathwork channels, the musical scope has expanded on each of the four EPs released on Maribou State's 'Dama Dama' label, and here continues with their debut on Multi Culti. This time Robbie takes the lead on production and sole vocal duties on all five tracks, presenting a range of influences and style. Lead single 'Between Memories' blends tropes of ecstatic dance with uplifting vocal piano house, somehow making flutes fit in with Detroit strings to epic, hands-in-the-air effect.' Title track ‘Bright Patterns’ bridges the gap between Jungle, Jai Paul, and Jamiroquai, a fusion of funky filtered disco-house and electroclash with side-chained pop vocal hooks. ’El Yo’ smooths things out, a dope, laid back groove with a measured reflection on psychedelic healing and the perils of spiritual bypassing. ‘Higher Drums’ warms things back up for the dancefloor with trumpet, afro-latin percussion, and flute flourishes. Finally, ‘Moonshine’ is a soaring, Amapiano-inflected post-desert-house ballad. Influenced, in their words, 'by birds, trees, Buddhism, yoga, headless way meditations, Jungian analysis, Zen Taoism, Chinese plant medicines, indigeneity, Amazonian and psychedelic cultures, icaros and world healing traditions,' the music is eclectic, ranging from afro-inspired jazz to Chinese folk, psych-rock to dub and dance music, an ambitious and inclusive range, collabs that extend well beyond the borders of western musical traditions. Their sound was described by Clash Magazine as an 'aural mosaic that glitters with colour and potential,' and while the sheen of the production and precision of the arrangements might seem a departure from Multi Culti's left-field endeavours, the psychedelic idealism and global connectivity make it a natural fit with the open-ended ethos of the label. Having already had radio support from KEXP, BBC6 Music (Laverne, Ravenscroft, Charles, Nemone, Letts), Jazz FM and Worldwide FM (Gilles Peterson), with a live show that sold out Dalston Curve Garde and The Waiting Room as well as supporting Maribou State for their recent comeback show at Islington Assembly Hall in London the collective's future is looking exceptionally bright.

Die Schweizer Rockband The Young Gods kündigt die Wiederveröffentlichung ihres hochgelobten akustischen Studioalbums 'Knock on Wood' auf Vinyl an. Das ursprünglich 2008 erschienene Album stellt eine fesselnde Abkehr vom typischen elektronischen Sound der Band dar. Die Wiederveröffentlichung, remastered von den originalen 96kHz/24-bit Files, wird am 21. Februar 2025 über Two Gentlemen auf Vinyl erhältlich sein.
Mit 'Knock on Wood - The Acoustic Sessions' bietet die Band neben atemberaubenden Neuinterpretationen von Klassikern anderer Künstler auch akustische Wiedergaben einiger ihrer beliebtesten Stücke, darunter 'Gasoline Man' und 'Skinflowers'.
Dieses einzigartige Projekt wurde mit akustischen Gitarren und Percussions aufgenommen, was der Musik eine rohe und intime Energie verleiht.
Dank der neu gemasterten Audioaufnahmen können die Fans diese Auftritte jetzt in unvergleichlicher Klarheit erleben. Die satte Klangqualität, kombiniert mit der eindringlichen Wärme des Vinyls, macht diese Wiederveröffentlichung zu einem Muss für Sammler und Neueinsteiger gleichermaßen.

Tradition shapes your work. For saxophonist and bandleader Shabaka Hutchings, that's something he's long understood. After years spent in the orbit of London's jazz circuit, he examines and reimagines his influences with a dexterity that's unique. Drawing out the vision underlying his new album, he says, I see energy as being a form of wisdom to be passed down through the ages.'

Unpicking the album's title, he continues, "When we study the music, the lives, the words of our master musicians we obtain a glimpse of that artist's essential energy source. This is the core vitality of the individual which leads them to utilise the musical specifics of their chosen genre in a way that mirrors their inner source of power. This is an intuited wisdom that's handed to us from the legacies of our elders.

The album is a document of sessions combining Hutchings with a group of South African jazz musicians he's long admired. His connection to the group was Mandla Mlangeni (bandleader of the Amandla Freedom Ensemble), whom he'd flown there to play with over the past few years. Recorded across just one day, the group drew on their South African lineage - heroes like Zim Ngquwana and Bheki Mseleku - to bring their own slant to the American jazz lineage which is reconfigured in Hutchings' compositions themselves.

Going beyond the jazz greats Hutchings cites, influences are drawn from plenty of other sources: Caribbean calypso, central African song structures and Southern African Nguni music all play a part. Bringing together those ideas with the contributions of his bandmates is, he explains, crucial to what he sees in the role of an album artist. Even though I wrote all the music, for me, the leader of the project isn't the person who writes all the music but the one who has a vision for how certain musical elements will be combined."

A regular sight on stages around London and beyond, playing - and often leading - groups like The Comet Is Coming, Sons of Kemet and Melt Yourself Down, he's part of a generation whose idea of jazz is pointedly unrefined. That's to say, Wisdom of the Elders comes from an artist interested in the indefinable gaps more than fitting into boxes.

It’s written in the Agreement Terms. There’s no getting out alive in Life. And yet, mankind keeps striving for eternal life; through art, through power, through cryogenics, through singularity. In that misguided quest against the inevitable, we all fall into the category of lost travellers. No one is exempt. In that understanding, Confucius MC and producer Bastien Keb offer no misgivings about the destination on the somber “Time Will Come”: Time will come for all of us / try to take your time.

Songs For Lost Travellers is a collaborative album by Con and Bastien Keb that merges unexplored pathways between rap, folk, and jazz into a spiritual triumvirate. Each genre is a balancing force within the record. The result is an album unlike either artist have made previously, possibly unlike any record in existence. Songs For Lost Travellers opens with bedtime stories and fairytales. Both “Tell Me Lies” and “Fairytale” present the creature comforts that trick us into forgetting the truth. Con’s first words spoken are “tell me lies ‘til I swear I can’t remember” over Keb’s lo-fi plucking that feels like it was lifted from a handheld recorder capturing a nursery mobile above a crib. Third track “Time Will Come” resets the album after acknowledging on “Fairytale” there’s “no nourishment in half-truths / no sustenance in eating lies.”

Honest and direct, Con and Keb imbue Songs For Lost Travellers with knowledge and truth from their lived experiences. There is grief hidden in the notes, an inherent sadness that is balanced with an awareness that grief is a protest against the social machinery of remaining numb. The record lingers in a meditative state, unafraid of restlessness and embracing solitude, with the expectation that peace is just as imminent as death.

The production contains a complimentary authenticity. Neither Con nor Keb bothered much with the professional studio in making Songs For Lost Travellers. Instead they opted for the raw state of their home recordings and first takes, matching the intimacy of being alone and reflective in their creative energies. Room static on “Tell Me Lies” makes it feel like you’ve entered their apartments. The immediacy continues on “Gutters,” as Keb plays guitar while watching the tele and Con hums along to the vocal melody in search of the proper pocket for his verse. Someone snaps their finger to mark a cue, but the snap never returns to the mix to keep time.

More drawn to Keb’s recent folk recordings on the Songs For Lilla EP than his funk roots circa Dinking In The Shadows of Zizou or the cinematic soul of The Killing of Eugene Peeps, Con leaned into the spacial freedom he heard in Keb’s lo-fi production cobbled from field recordings and voice notes. Both artists placed their families into the tableau. Con wrote “Little Man” for his son, hoping to add a positive contribution to the canon of parental rap songs. Later, his son appears at the end of “Paramount” to deliver a passage from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. Keb secretly recorded his mum playing saxophone and sampled his cousin playing sax as well. The result is a near-drumless album (save for “Toulouse” and light tapping on “It Would Speak”) in which Keb’s raw production (plus a few sessions with Kofi Flexxx) gave Con a liminal zone, unencumbered by beats per minute, to craft melodies that turn his philosophical rhymes into mantras.

Perhaps there’s a message in the presence of family? It would be one of many. Con and Keb’s reflective, somber approach to Songs For Lost Travellers does not wallow in the mire. Music is action and it’s taking them through a portal to the other side of grief. We are welcome to join (which is also in the fine print of the Agreement Terms), but first there’s a password in the final song, a single request to answer: Tell me what you care about.

Biography by Blake Gillespie
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