Suche:full time

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Repress, note new price. Black vinyl issue of the long sold out RSD compilation. Housed in heavy duty slipcase box. FOR FANS OF… Daptone Records, Big Crown Records, 45s, Soul, Funk, R&B. This is the follow up to our first volume of Soul Slabs, which is a collection of tracks from our 7” release series. For many of them, it's the first time they'll be appearing on an LP. Soul Slabs Vol. 2 is a collection of A-sides from the 7” catalog of Loveland Ohio’s Colemine Records. Specializing in heavy soul, funk, and R&B, Colemine prides itself on authenticity and an old school production style, while still making songs that seem fresh and are moving the genre of soul forward. This 3LP collection of 27 tracks puts their diverse catalog on full display, many of these songs being presented for the first time on an LP. Featuring artists such as Durand Jones & The Indications, Kelly Finnigan, Ben Pirani, Jr. Thomas & The Volcanos, Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, Monophonics, Ikebe Shakedown, The Dip, The Sure Fire Soul Ensemble, Soul Scratch, and more!

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

The only album by Austrian trio Cultural Noise is a an electronic marvel. Band members were Gerhard Lisy, Walter Heinisch and Karl Kronfeld, and instruments used included an ARP Sequencer, an ARP 2600, a VCS 3, an EMS Digital Sequencer, a Mellotron M400, a Micro Moog, a Roland Studiosystem 700, a Roland Analogue Sequenzer and an electric guitar. With these weapons and a strong influence from the Berlin school Cultural Noise created a rich electronic tapestry which expanded through the two pieces of this record, one per side, being compared by reviewers to works by Zanov or Anna Själv Tredge. Mentions of Tangerine Dream are also present on reviews, although Cultural Noise have a pretty unique personality on their own and besides sharing the use of Mellotron, sequencers and analog synths we have a totally personal concept here which sets them aside from all TD impersonators of the era.



The album was originally released in 1980 on CBS and later repressed in 1981 which came in a B&W version of the sleeve that some sources list as a self release private pressing done by the band themselves - this has been denied by members of Cultural Noise.



500 copies only reissue, housed in its original full colour version artwork.

A spellbinding tribute from one multi-faceted artist to another. New York-based artist Aki Onda (b. 1967) conjured a transduction to the Korean multi-media pioneer Nam June Paik (1932-2006). Aki himself describes the project:

“Nam June’s Spirit Was Speaking to Me occurred purely by chance. In 2010, I was spending four days at Nam June Paik Art Center in South Korea for a series of performances and had plenty of free time to wander. The building was packed with Paik’s artwork and related material. I have always felt a close kinship with him as an artist, and so it was a great opportunity to immerse myself in his works and ephemera.

It was that night I made the first contact, via a hand-held radio in a hotel room in Seoul. It was literally out of the blue. Scanning through the stations, I stumbled upon what sounded like a submerged voice and I began to record it in fascination. I concluded this was Paik’s spirit reaching out to me.

The project continued to grow organically as I kept channeling Paik’s spirit over long distance and receiving cryptic broadcasts/messages. The series of séances, conducted in different cities across the globe, began in Seoul in 2010, and continued in Köln, Germany in 2012, Wrocław, Poland in 2013, and Lewisburg, USA in 2014. The original recordings were captured by the same radio which has a tape recorder, with almost no editing, save for some minimal slicing and mastering.

Paik is known for his association with shamanism, a practice that constantly surfaces in his works all through his career. In an interview, he stated “In Korea, diverse forms of shamanism are strongly remained. Even though I have created my work unconsciously, the most inspiring thing in my work came from Korean female shaman Mudang.” Paik himself was a master shaman and vividly used shaman rituals and symbols for staging his performances and installations.

These recordings also became a way for me to explore the mythic form of radio—a medium which is full of mysteries. The transmissions captured may be “secret broadcasts” on anonymous radio stations. There are in fact hundreds of those stations around the world, although the numbers dwindle as clandestine messages can now be sent via encrypted digital channels. Some of these stations were likely for military use or espionage or relics of the Cold War. But many others continue without apparent explanation. These are just some of the questions that remain unanswered.”

Commissioned in 2017 by documenta 14's radio program “Every Time A Ear di Soun,” these recordings were continually broadcast on eight radios stations around the world that year. Nam June’s Spirit is a beautifully formed homage, I cannot think of any other like it. An intimate, flickering language discovered through the air. The LP comes replete with a booklet of photographs of Paik on the set of Michael Snow’s unreleased film Rameau’s Nephew (1974).

Sean McCann, 2020
Aki Onda, 2017

20-page art booklet including rare photographs of Nam June Paik from the set of Michael Snow’s film Rameau’s Nephew (1974), two essays on radio-wave phenomenon (by Onda and Marcus Gammel), and a remembrance of Paik by Yuji Agematsu

Following the sublime smash debut "X17", LA-based label Elbow Grease head conductor Dave Aju continues on his righteous piece-by-piece journey toward a multi-genre multiverse, where deep musical roots come together in kaleidoscopic expression, and unfakeable funk reigns supreme.

"Spacio Tempo" picks up where we last left off, though with a notable drop in bpm as the title implies, with a rolling 4/4 textural tapestry that combines pulsating layers of soulful synth work, effervescent live percussion, and heavenly strings into a dense yet open-as-the-night-sky extended gem yet again. Just as the machine patterns of near-equator rhythms bubble over and begin to lock into a hypnotic groove, a bold left turn into a dank latin jazz noir vibraphone solo and SH-101 duet tango ensues, before landing us safely back at home base - right on time, at its own spacial pace.

As per the Elbow Grease release recipe so far, the B1 cut offers DJs a more driving flex, this time in the form of the "Acido Tempo Mix": a raw 303-driven take on the original which will undoubtedly stomp its way fiercely thru many bass bins in sweaty basements and warehouses worldwide. Finally the B2 blessing "Domingo Dub" closes things out, removing all but the highest vibes as an ambient drifting and uplifting take on the main theme, where the faintest of vocal tones, space echoes, and light percussive touches leave us elated in a West Coast, with subtle splashes from the D, sunset dream. Another solid single turned three-tracker sure-shot from EG.

From deep in the heart of Moomin Valley, frozen in time for many
midwinters passed, comes a genuine treasure chest of never
heard Moomin melodies and instrumental comet songs composed
for the continued animated adventures of our Fuzzy-Felt freak folk
friends who disappeared from UK TV pastures in the mid-1980s.
From the top of the Hobgoblin’s Hat and the bottom of Snufkin’s
satchel, original Moomins composer Graeme Miller (‘The Carrier
Frequency’) kindly shares this patchwork selection of spellbinding
sound poems and percussive peons made using the very same
selection of ocarinas, kalimbas, miniature squeak boxes, Waspy
synths, cornflake box shakers and a seemingly endless array of
talent and lo-fi home studio trickery.

Regarded as one of the most enigmatic, beguiling and haunting
imported children’s programmes to ever grace UK TV screens,
‘The Moomins’ was one of the first-ever commissions by Anne
Wood (‘The Teletubbies’) who ingeniously replaced the original
Polish/Austrian/Finnish soundtrack with homemade music
experiments by unknown post-punk theatre students Graeme
Miller and Steve Shill (aka The Commies From Mars) who, after
the screening of two unforgettable series in 1983 and 1985, were
left in eager anticipation of rescoring further Moomin adventures
with new melodies, arrangements and sound designs, which then
lingered in the ether waiting until the Groke awoke and
Snorkmaiden sang once more.

With future felt adventures screened exclusively in Poland and
Germany for many years (often as feature films) these unheard
recordings are the only genuine musical sequel to the bizarre UK
version of ‘The Moomins’ and stand as important inclusions in
Graeme Miller’s own portfolio of theatrical theme music and sound
installations as part of The Impact Theatre Cooperative, including
collaborations with artists and writers such as Russell Hoban.

Witnessed in fragmented form during a short run of incredible rare
live screenings at The Barbican Theatre and various film festivals,
this record marks the first time this music has been heard in its
original full-length form, free from sound effects, dialogue and
whimpers of euphoric joy and nostalgia from those who have
continued to crave the company of our Moomintrolls and their
mysterious music over the last five decades.

Tidal Waves Music now proudly presents: the official reissue of this fantastic album, back available on vinyl for the first time since 1987. Available as a deluxe 180g 2XLP set, with TWO bonus tracks from the same session that were not featured on the original vinyl release. Pharoah `Farrell' Sanders (born 1940) is a leading figure in the world of jazz and one of the last living legends with connections to players like Sun Ra and John Coltrane. His tenor saxophone playing has earned him royal status amongst free jazz players, critics and collectors. On "Africa" from 1987 Sanders plays with an all-star line-up consisting of Idris Muhammad, John Hicks and Curtis Lundy. Muhammad brings his trademark tight sense of timekeeping, but with a looseness that we love - and Lundy's warm soulful bass does more than enough to give the set a sound bottom- all this while Hick's free lyrical piano works nicely with Sander's spiritual horn. The brilliant `Africa sessions' features the quartet at their best...soulful but also searching for a strong groove at the same time. The music here is less ornamented than on most of Sanders' studio recordings, where sextets, septets or larger lineups have been the norm, but this brilliant effort here remains every bit as compelling. Pharoah and his crew play with the utmost sensitivity and give a demonstration that shows us the full extent of their skills.

The Boogie Times label is back with 4 cuts from a very elusive artist.

There has been much speculation over the years as to the identity behind the Disciples Of The Watch moniker. Sharp eared listeners have attributed the sound of the breakbeats to one artist, while others are as convinced their deductions from the sound of a bassline can attribute the production to someone else.

Perhaps it’s who they think? Maybe it’s not? Possibly it’s a collective of artists?

All we can say is that Disciples Of The Watch make great music!

Back in 1992 the Dance In Peace EP received an incredibly limited white label run and was only available from a handful of specialist record shops. The scarcity of this release means that it has now reached near mythical status and has seen it selling for as much as £200 on the second-hand vinyl market.

This EP is now getting the very long overdue full release that it deserves, with all tracks expertly remastered & cut to heavyweight black vinyl.

With very limited stock being pressed we’d urge anyone wanting to own the amazing musical journey by the elusive Disciples Of The Watch to get orders in as soon as it goes on sale!!

Reissue of the first Dire Straits greatest hits collection, originally released in October 1988 and featuring songs from their first five albums. Fully remastered by Bob Ludwig, and cut by Bernie Grundman and pressed onto 180gsm black vinyl, this vinyl reissue includes ‘Telegraph Road (Live Remix)’ which was previously only available on the original CD format, and a brand new mix of ‘Portobello Belle (Live)’. It is cut over four sides of vinyl for the first time. The original artwork has been reproduced on a widespine sleeve, with original inner artwork presented as a 12” x 12” double-sided insert.

"“The New Backwards” was conceived by Peter “Sleazy” Christopherson in 2007, revisiting stray tracks which hadn’t seemed to gel with the material he had chosen for the more somber “Ape of Naples” from 2005, COIL’s initial posthumous release, a sort of requiem and a kiss-goodbye to his then recently deceased partner John Balance.

Significantly different to its sister release, this album collects the brilliantly chaotic and outrageously rhythmic material from the original sessions for the album that was begun as early as 1993 and had originally been conceptualised as the follow-up to “Love’s Secret Domain”. These songs are as diverse and wild as the places they originated from, partly infamously spawned in Sharon Tate’s former home in the Hollywood Hills, the Nine Inch Nails home base in New Orleans and London’s Swanyard, remixed and restructured with the help of long-term friend Danny Hyde in Thailand, this collection has its own unique flow and an atmosphere not found on any other COIL release.

Both “AYOR” and “Backwards” had by the time the album was first released already become favourites in COIL’s manic live performances. Some of the other tracks had only leaked in demo versions and are here presented updated and polished as Christopherson and Hyde intended them to be heard. It is interesting to consider Balance’s vocal contributions, too. Whilst on the albums COIL did release at the time this material was first put aside (“Black Light District” and “ElpH”) his voice is all but absent, his vocal performances and his lyric writing here are arguably more closely indebted to the previous “Love’s Secret Domain” era, especially the epic “Copacaballa” is noteworthy in that respect.
The New Backwards” effectively became the final official COIL studio release of all new material whilst Peter was still alive and is here presented for the first time fully supervised by Danny Hyde, its co-creator.
The stunning cover uses a detail from artist Ian Johnstone’s “Cubic Raven” painting, licensed from the estate of IJ..

It is high time to rediscover this timeless album now!

Recorded at Swanyard, London and at Nothing Studios, New Orleans, 1996.
Thanks to everyone there, especially Trent Reznor who made it all possible.
Written & Produced by Coil & Danny Hyde.
Remixed by Peter Christopherson & Danny Hyde, Bangkok 2007.
For that session Coil were: Peter Christopherson, Jhonn Balance & Drew McDowall.
Mastered by Jessica Thompson.
Front artwork by Ian Johnstone.
Artwork licensed from The Estate of Ian Johnstone.
Layout Cold Graves and Oleg Galay."

"“The New Backwards” was conceived by Peter “Sleazy” Christopherson in 2007, revisiting stray tracks which hadn’t seemed to gel with the material he had chosen for the more somber “Ape of Naples” from 2005, COIL’s initial posthumous release, a sort of requiem and a kiss-goodbye to his then recently deceased partner John Balance.

Significantly different to its sister release, this album collects the brilliantly chaotic and outrageously rhythmic material from the original sessions for the album that was begun as early as 1993 and had originally been conceptualised as the follow-up to “Love’s Secret Domain”. These songs are as diverse and wild as the places they originated from, partly infamously spawned in Sharon Tate’s former home in the Hollywood Hills, the Nine Inch Nails home base in New Orleans and London’s Swanyard, remixed and restructured with the help of long-term friend Danny Hyde in Thailand, this collection has its own unique flow and an atmosphere not found on any other COIL release.

Both “AYOR” and “Backwards” had by the time the album was first released already become favourites in COIL’s manic live performances. Some of the other tracks had only leaked in demo versions and are here presented updated and polished as Christopherson and Hyde intended them to be heard. It is interesting to consider Balance’s vocal contributions, too. Whilst on the albums COIL did release at the time this material was first put aside (“Black Light District” and “ElpH”) his voice is all but absent, his vocal performances and his lyric writing here are arguably more closely indebted to the previous “Love’s Secret Domain” era, especially the epic “Copacaballa” is noteworthy in that respect.
The New Backwards” effectively became the final official COIL studio release of all new material whilst Peter was still alive and is here presented for the first time fully supervised by Danny Hyde, its co-creator.
The stunning cover uses a detail from artist Ian Johnstone’s “Cubic Raven” painting, licensed from the estate of IJ..

It is high time to rediscover this timeless album now!

Recorded at Swanyard, London and at Nothing Studios, New Orleans, 1996.
Thanks to everyone there, especially Trent Reznor who made it all possible.
Written & Produced by Coil & Danny Hyde.
Remixed by Peter Christopherson & Danny Hyde, Bangkok 2007.
For that session Coil were: Peter Christopherson, Jhonn Balance & Drew McDowall.
Mastered by Jessica Thompson.
Front artwork by Ian Johnstone.
Artwork licensed from The Estate of Ian Johnstone.
Layout Cold Graves and Oleg Galay."

"Don’t be afraid, old son, it’s only me,
though not as I’ve appeared before,
on the battlements of your signature,
or margin of a book you can’t throw out"
~ Michael Donaghy

Whytwo is a young, enigmatic artist from Scotland, UK. A talented multi-instrumentalist and performer with an extraordinarily broad range.
First coming to Blu Mar Ten's attention after entering their 2017 remix competition, Whytwo created a wildly different take on their track 'Titans', bending it into a skittering, menacing groove while somehow maintaining a playful edge.

Fast-forward a little and we've now arrived at Whytwo's debut LP, 'Ghost', an exhilarating and elasticated take on Drum & Bass that exists in the hinterland between elation, melancholy and longing.

Mirroring Whytwo's music, the album's title, 'Ghost', is richly layered word, meaning, in different places and at different times; a memory of something or someone; to disappear without communication; to move quietly and quickly; to secretly do work for another; and, of course, a being caught between worlds.
From the old English, 'Gast', meaning 'breath' or 'spirit', the word eventually transformed into 'Ghost' coming to describe "a slight suggestion, mere shadow or semblance". All of these definitions relate, in some way, to the album now before us.

In conversations with Whytwo, he describes how his Jazz musician Grandfather was the person responsible for first giving him music-making software, and whose clarinet features on some of the album tracks. At the same time that 'Ghost' was being created, Whytwo was looking after a young child and some of the drums on 'Ghost' are recordings of the child hitting things. Whytwo describes the feeling of existing between these two extreme states, young & old, naive & experienced, primitive & advanced, and taking the role of a medium 'caught between worlds' whose task was to stitch together this generational fabric.

The result is nothing less than spectacular. Despite having its roots in Drum & Bass, the rules and conventions of the style are ruthlessly disobeyed resulting in glittering cascades of melody, harmony and rhythm that somehow burst with both sadness and joy, hope & loss, memory and anticipation. The music swoops and dips, briefly casting shadows before blasting them away with sunlight, evoking memories both personal and collective. This is 'Lost Soul Music' that manages to speak to all of us.

Despite being deceptively listenable, Whytwo insists this is not relaxing background music. Listeners should fully engage with the music beyond its attractive surface and absorb it at the same deep human level where it was created. 'Ghost's production levels are astoundingly high but focussing on those would be a mistake. They only serve to carry the spiritual content of the music across to the audience and unlock the valves of feeling. The beauty here is not the machine, but the ghost in the machine.

Lazarus Recordings makes its long awaited return with the head honchos new EP, DJ Deluxe – Alive By Default. This EP is full of his fast paced breakbeat goodness that has become synonymous with DJ Deluxe’s production style. He takes that ‘93/’94 breakbeat hardcore sound, adds some 1998/1999 breakbeat style and then amps it up with modern production techniques. You will find all that made the early breakbeat hardcore sound so good but all the dials have been turned up to 12! The only thing that can top Deluxe’s insanity is that of DJ Beeno, and here he really lets lose and unleashes his love of fast paced techno for his remix of Get On Your Knees. This EP isn’t just one thing, it's not old skool, it's not new skool, but it is both and so much more.
Club / DJ Support
Jay Cunning, Billy Bunter, the Fat Controller, Liquid, Hyper On Experience, Glowkid, Slipmatt, Dj Jedi, Dj Luna-C, Dj Brisk, Paul Bradley, Jimni Cricket, Bustin, Jimmy J, Doughboy, Lowercase, Dave Skywalker, Ponder and many others

"bit by bit" is the first full-length release from Toronto-based singer-songwriter Evan J Cartwright. This self produced album from the go-to drummer/collaborator (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Brodie West) presents a highly singular songwriting vision that combines existential lyrics with masterful musicianship. Steeped in jazz melodicism, Cartwright’s trumpet-like phrasing mixed with contemporary composition presents an eclectic art song performed by an artist that could perhaps be best described as a post-modern Chet Baker. Deep poetic observations on love and time paint an affecting picture of an artist reflecting on life’s universal truths. Visual in nature, "bit by bit" places its audience within a world of musical leitmotifs extracted from field recordings of bells and birdsong. Collected during years of touring, these sounds evoke extant spaces beyond that which the music inhabits. The use of this source material in its unaltered form evokes the feeling of a technicolour European film at one moment and then, as the extrapolated melodies are meticulously translated into electronic tone bank sequences, a modernist setting the next. One carillon melody is used as the basis for a wealth of the album’s musical material before its origin is finally revealed by the chiming of bells in the last seconds of the album. The result is a fragment of space between the constructed world of the musical compositions and the candid world of documentation, inviting the listener to ponder whether those two worlds are distinct or whether the songs and music are not simply “field recordings” themselves. Throughout "bit by bit" Cartwright drops staggering revelations hiding in plain prose that often involve the contemplation of time. In I Don’t Know he states “if I only trusted time / then I would wish it all away” and nearing the album’s end he opens impossibly blue with the phrase “the impossible truth of time”, playfully inserting a pregnant pause before the word time. A drummer’s fixation, to be certain, the album’s recurring theme of time is eclipsed only by Cartwright’s contemplation of human relationships. Here he elaborates on some of the album’s subjects: “Many of the lyrics circle, and try to give a name to the illegible space between human beings. “i DON’t know” celebrates the fact that we will never truly understand what love is. Its message is one of assurance. It says that we can never really touch love, and that is ok. “and you’ve got nobuddy” refers to life’s great tragedy: that we are unable to read each others’ experiences, and in reaction to this, we separate ourselves.” The entirety of "bit by bit" is a continuous work. There is seldom a clear demarcation of where one piece ends and another begins and when this does occur, it is done crudely, as if someone is flipping through a series of broadcasted channels. At times words are sliced right out of their lines and replaced by pure tones. This is both a comical interpretation of censorship and a reminder that there are things in life that will forever remain unseen and illegible. In fact, this statement lies at the centre of the LP and although hidden beauty does reveal itself through repeated listenings, "bit by bit’s" eccentric world remains just out of reach — an imaginary second story room viewed from a crowded city street.

40-plus years since its original release, the pop-punk-new wave inventions of Anthony
Moore’s ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ are freshly remastered, blasting the sparkling, angular
sounds into today with perfect vitality.
 After spending the early years of the 1970s making experimental music first as a solo
artist, then with Slapp Happy and Henry Cow, 1976’s ‘OUT’ sessions had reinvigorated
Anthony’s youthful love of the naive pop melodies of pop radio, the undeniable excitement
of songs. While ‘OUT’ ultimately went unreleased at the time, the iconoclasm clouding the
late ’70s air was addictive and transformative for Anthony. England seemed to be roiled
as violently as it had been in counter-cultural days a decade earlier; the UK pop charts
breathlessly reflected the changing spectrum with equal parts aging hippie and prog
delicacies alongside new ascendant sounds: rough-hewn pub and punk rock, plus dub
reggae and disco and ska and Stiff and Krautrock. This proved to be an ideal environment
for Anthony to make records by exploring, as he puts it, the “deep connection between
minimalism, repetition, working with tape and celluloid and forming the modules of a
three-minute pop song.”
 Caught up in a no-holds-barred era, Anthony was more than happy to play the out-of-hishead madman, raving through outrageous exchanges with the press, while ‘Judy Get
Down’ received Single Of The Week honours from the NME (with review penned by Brian
Eno). Represented by Blackhill Enterprises, Anthony did production work throughout
1978-1979, on Kevin Ayers’ ‘Rainbow Takeaway’, Manfred Mann’s Earth Band’s ‘Angel
Station’ and the first This Heat album, meanwhile cutting his own songs on a dead time
deal at Workhouse Studio with engineer / producer Laurie Latham. Through the wee
hours of countless nights, the two pieced together ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, with a little help
from friends (an inspired bunch, including Bob Shilling, Charles Hayward, Chris Slade,
Robert Vogel, Festus, Matt Irving, Sam Harley, Bernie Clark, Edwin Cross and Martine
Moore on the telephone).
 Building upon the axis of pop and experimental impulses that distinguished ‘OUT’, and
informed further by the raw sensibilities exploding everywhere, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
blasts out of the speakers with its own unique blend of sophistication and aggression,
Anthony’s keyboard flashes between arpeggiations and outright stabs among the noise of
slicing guitars, funk basslines and the reverbed blare of the drumkit. Opening with
Anthony’s greatest hit, ‘Judy Get Down’, and containing a noise-laden remake of the
Slapp Happy/Henry Cow number, ‘War’, among other delightful sweet-and-salty
confections, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ never stops moving, fuelled with raw outrage and dark
satirical intent, churning with the energy of next-gen types like Tubeway Army and DEVO,
while shimmering with the elegance of the still-challenging old guard types, like Cale and
Bowie.
 Clearly, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ was steeped in the time, and the original release reflected a
deep mistrust of the corporation mindset. Information was a dubious concept, and
connections to any recognizable organization were seen as untrustworthy, so facts like
musician credits were left out of the package, and even Anthony’s name was altered (he
was credited as A. More on the album and Tony More on a single release). The label
name QUANGO was conceptual as well, standing for ‘Quasi Autonomous NonGovernmental Organization’; each record was sealed with red tape that the listener was
required to cut through in order to get to the music. Rather than recreate the conditions of
the original release of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, this reissue instead embraces the changed
environment of the current time and place: instead of no credits, now they are complete,
with Anthony’s full name restored and even the artwork subtly ‘relocated’ to reflect a new
set of relationships. All of which brings the forward-looking sounds of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
into the more independent-minded 21st Century syntax where it belongs.

140g Black vinyl LP – Printed inner sleeve – Sealed plastic sleeve

In Trux We Pux is an editorial project organized by the Porto based label and collective Favela Discos. Focusing on the city’s thriving experimental and improvised music scene, it sets out to portrait in a series of four volumes some of the characteristic sounds and collaborative practices that have been in development in Porto during the last few years.

In Trux We Pux 02 contains the first of Favela Discos’ collective pieces to be published, and it was chosen to represent a long series of site-specic pieces developed by the collective since its formation. Most of the time these pieces remain lost in time or in the label’s archives.

Desilusão Óptica is an audiovisual piece developed for the festival Serralves em Festa 2017 and was recorded between the concert and rehearsals. The piece is influenced by the book Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks, and tries to explore the notion of auditory hallucination, in this case based on the idea of a phantom sound unconnected to its object.

Starting quietly with a single flute note, Desilusão Óptica slowly grows fuller but more uncomfortable as the pitch rises gradually in a hypnotic effect. The sound we hear is a mix of the sound produced live, its manipulation and repetition, thus the piece exists between the time when it happens, its immediate repetition and ghosts of past sounds.

The flute, delayed and sampled, embodies both the sounds it produces and memories of past sounds, creating a confusion between objecto and sound. The sound is produced by an object but is at the same time separated from it, like in Mulholland Drive when we watch a singer emotionally dedicated to a performance and whose voice keeps on singing even when her body collapses.

Like in Dub Music, the musicians are divided into two groups: those who play, in this case divided by winds, percussion and electric guitars, and the dub master / sound manipulators who launch samples of previous recordings and manipulate the sound that is produced live, through loopers and delay pedals.

As Motorist, LA native Joe Rihn makes music which points in the direction of the soulful, jazz inflections of artists like Wax Doctor and Peshay. Time Is Now White Vol.20 pays testament to his dexterity in creating fully-immersive atmospheres, as well as his penchant for rhythmic experimentation.

The EP's smooth-as-silk opener 'Drip' typifies this, luring you in with the psychedelic-funk tones of wah-pedalled guitar plucks, and the instrumental quality of percussion which cruises along at half-time before Amen breaks pick up the pace. 'Balamb Garden' captures D'n'B's meditative potential, driven by a dynamic syncopation which swings beneath airy pads and piano tinkles before the harder-hitting raw club track 'Caldoria' brings the A-side to a storming close.

'Blast Route' picks things right back up again, together with 'Prism', which nod more to the hardcore proclivities of the likes of DJ Die with distorted drum breaks and warped basslines. 'Rover' strips things back once more, boasting Motorist's capacity for teasing out the slower, more mellow side of 160.

Fuchs is a band that never was. It vanished as quickly as it appeared in the picture, much like the animal that can be seen on this album and after whom it was named. In 2005, Kante singer and guitarist Peter Thiessen travelled to Weilheim to visit Markus and Micha Acher in their studio, where they were joined, among others, by Notwist-affiliated musicians like Cico Beck, Robert Klinger, Carl Oesterhelt and Stefan Schreiber. Spirits were high, but schedules were full: after a week of improvised sessions, everyone went their own way. The recordings gathered dust until Markus Acher found them again in 2021 while cleaning out his studio. After carefully re-evaluating the rough mixes, the musicians decided to finally release them. The resulting album comprises six tracks that musically draw on jazz, aesthetically lean on dub techniques and ideologically pick up on krautrock: there’s no solos to be heard on this record, just a few equally skilled and open-minded musicians listening to each other carefully, providing each other with space in which to unfold. »Fuchs« is a document of egos dissolving in a collective spirit.

Thiessen and the Acher brothers met in the 1990s and bonded not only over their shared background in hardcore music and the DIY ethos in which it was rooted, but also over their love for jazz. »If you look at those two things combined, you will eventually become convinced that you don’t have to be formally trained to make music that at least resembles jazz«, says Thiessen today. He invited Micha Acher to join his band Kante on flügelhorn in 2004 for a tour that saw the expanded group play unusual encores after the official concert was over. »Micha had taught us some dixie pieces, so night after night we would play a freestyle dixieland ska set in front of the remaining audience!« Naturally, the Acher brothers didn’t have to ask twice when they invited him for a visit in Weilheim to further explore their mutual interests in a studio setting. »I got on my way immediately and took two or three loose ideas, a tape echo and a guitar on whose headplate you could create fantastic sounds with me«, says Thiessen.

Between immersing themselves in books by the photographer Leonore Mau, cooking together and drinking the occasional fruit schnapps, the trio went into the studio. Says Thiessen, »Micha brought his flügelhorn and some wonderful ideas with him, Markus an Indian harmonium and a plan, Carl Oesterhelt came with a glockenspiel and a Chinese zither and a bunch of amazing jazz musicians joined in, too.« He considers the resulting recording sessions to be a kind of attempt at musically translating their conversations during those days. They discussed different approaches to jazz, whether sampling and musical miscitations can unlock ecstatic potentials and the possible parallels between syncretistic religions and pop music. »There’s traces of glossolalia, it's like a blurry séance«, adds Thiessen in regard to the sessions.

It is especially this spirit that managed to live on even though the recordings themselves were abandoned. »What we all liked most when listening back to the recordings is probably their marginal and fragmentary character, the empty spaces—the moments in which the virtuoso solo never comes, in which the centre remains empty.« The six pieces on »Fuchs« are chock-full of exactly these moments. When at one instant, the players seem to disperse and improvise freely, they always meet again on common ground a short time later, continuing on their way together. There are no conventions or even previous agreements that guide them, just a shared will to explore a vast range of curious sounds and unusual rhythms together as a truly unified constellation of very different musicians. Fuchs is a band that never was. Its ideas still reverberate vividly even 17 years later.