Suche:hal singer

Maria Usbecks neuestes Album "Naturaleza" ist ein kühnes neues Kapitel für die sich stets wandelnde ecuadorianische Singer-Songwriterin. Sie taucht tief in ihr einzigartiges Reich der eigenwilligen Popmusik ein und behält dabei die beobachtende, forschende Perspektive bei, die ihr bisheriges Werk auszeichnet. Usbecks drittes Album für das Cascine-Label folgt auf das beeindruckende Debüt "Amparo" von 2016 (bei dem Caroline Polachek als Co-Produzentin mitwirkte) und das expansive, forschende "Envejeciendo" von 2019, bei dem Usbeck ihre Beine in die warme Glut elektronischer Musik der 1980er Jahre und die geräumigen Grooves des City-Pop streckte. Seit diesem Album hat sie auch die einmalige Single ,Hollow" veröffentlicht, die ihre bezaubernde Stimme in einen futuristischen Glanz inmitten sternenklarer Synthesizer und der Frisson der Dialup-Technologie hüllt.

Marion Walter Jacobs (May 1, 1930 – February 15, 1968), known as Little Walter, was an American blues musician, singer, and songwriter, whose revolutionary approach to the harmonica and impact on succeeding generations earned comparisons for him to such seminal artists as Django Reinhardt, Charlie Parker and Jimi Hendrix. His virtuosity and musical innovations fundamentally altered many listeners’ expectations of what was possible on blues harmonica. He was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2008 in the category Sideman, the only artist to be inducted specifically as a harmonica player.

This album consists of a combination of hits from Little Walter such as “Mellow Down Easy”, “Nobody But You” and “My Babe”.

Komponist, Singer-Songwriter, Schauspieler, Autor und Aktivist Sting veröffentlicht am 25.04.2025 sein
„3.0. LIVE“ Album, welches ab sofort als limiterte180g Vinyl und CD vorbestellt werden kann.
Als Solo-Künstler, Front-Sänger von The Police und Rock&Roll Hall of Famer hat Sting zahlreiche Auszeichnungen erhalten, darunter 17 GRAMMY-Awards.
Das Album „3.0 LIVE“ stellt eine Kollektion seiner beliebtesten Live-Hits aus seiner Sting 3.0 Welttour dar.
Die Tracklist umfasst 9 ikonische Fan-Favoriten wie „Message in a Bottle“, „Roxanne“ und „Every Breath
You Take“, aber auch „Be Still My Beating Heart“, das nie zuvor als Live-Version veröffentlicht wurde.

Limited edition of 500 copies.

Hard Top assembles the previously unreleased 1975 recordings of legendary South African saxophonist Kippie Moketsi (also spelled Moeketsi). The 2LP vinyl edition is presented in a gatefold sleeve featuring artwork by Mafa Ngwenya and comes from As-Shams Archive on the heels of the Tete Mbambisa's previously unreleased African Day album in 2024.

By 1975, at the age of 50, saxophonist Kippie Moketsi had already earned his stripes as a South African jazz figurehead. His tenure with the Jazz Epistles and the cast of the "South African Jazz Opera" King Kong in the late-1950s had not only marked his own rise to fame but also seen him help catalyse the ambitions of a younger generation of iconic artists who would go on to become the defining figures of modern South African jazz. While he didn't enjoy the same international attention as his protégés Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela and Abdullah Ibrahim, his humble and challenging career on the local jazz scene until his death in 1983 saw him forge an enduring legacy.

Owing to the efforts of record producer Rashid Vally, Kippie Moketsi's journey through the 1970s is beautifully documented, most notably on the albums Dollar Brand + 3 (1973), Tshona! (1975) and Blue Stompin' (1977), in which he shares the spotlight with Abdullah Ibrahim, Pat Matshikiza and Hal Singer respectively. As a featured performer on Soul of the City's Diagonal Street (1975) and Dennis Maple's Our Boys are Doing It (1977), Moketsi is seen embracing the popular orientations of South African jazz in 1970s but, having come up in the 1940s and 1950s, he never forgot his roots as a dedicated admirer and scholar of traditional American jazz.

While Moketsi did write some memorable compositions, it was in the role of interpreter that he shone most brightly. With its title derived from a good-natured nickname that nodded to Moketsi's elder status by way of his receding hairline, Hard Top is a covers album that looks back in time to the era of rhythm and blues while also indulging 1970s pop and funk with a decidedly South African vibe. Officially joining Kippie Moketsi's catalogue 50 years after it was recorded, Hard Top provides an opportunity to celebrate the multiple dimensions of a South African jazz legend and reflect on the unwavering support of his fan, producer and friend Rashid Vally, who passed away in December 2024.

“Egypt’s “official” popular music throughout much of the 20th Century was a complex form of art song steeped in tradition, well-loved by the middle and upper classes, and even accommodating to certain non-Arabic influences. It was highly structured by professional musicians working an established industry centered in the capitol, Cairo. However, far from the bustling cosmopolitan center of Cairo, north and northwest, in towns like Tanta and Alexandria and extending across the Saharan Desert to the Libyan border, dozens of fully marginalized artists were developing a raw, hybrid shaabi/al-musiqa al-shabiya style of music, supported by smaller upstart, independent labels, including the short-lived but deeply resonant Bourini Records. Launched in the late 1960s in Benghazi, Libya, Astuanat al-Bourini اسطوانات البوريني (Bourini Records) published some 40 to 50 titles from 1968 to 1975. Bourini released 7-inch 45 RPM singles by 15 artists, all but one of them Egyptian, igniting brief careers for Alexandrian singer Sheikh Amin Abdel Qader and the blind Bedouin legend Abu Bakr Abdel Aziz (aka Abu Abab). The tracks compiled here comprise a full range of styles covered by the label, while highlighting some of its most gobsmacking moments, from Basis Rahouma’s beastly transformation into a growling and barking man-lion by the end of “Yana Alla Nafsa Masouda,” to Reem Kamal’s hopeful-if-bitter handclapping party pivot “Baed Al Yas Yjini,” which descends into an almost Velvet Underground outro-groove of nihilistic dissonance. All the tracks on this compilation were laid down in stark divergence from the mainstream Egyptian popular music topography of heightened emotions buoyed by lush arrangements. The contrast is most evident in Mahmoud al-Sandidi’s “Ana Mish Hafwatak,” wherein his voice weaves heavily but deftly through a constant accordion drone, and Abu Abab’s “Al Bint al Libya,” a sparse, slow-burning lament with minimal percussion, violin, and Abab’s nephew Hamed Abdel Muna'im Mursi on lyre. Whereas the Egyptian mainstream was aspirational, attempting to reflect Egyptian culture at its most refined, the performances captured by Bourini were manifestations of everyday life lived by the mostly otherwise ignored masses. More than half century old, this music has lost none of its urgency, presence, or relevance. We hear these artists as if they’d just joined us in our living room, and not on a stage decades ago surrounded by tens of thousands of long-forgotten acolytes.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

Bristol-based singer, songwriter and bandleader, who has powered her way to the-forefront of the British blues and roots scene in recent years, releases 'Shining In The Half Light on "Tidal Wave Splatter" colored vinyl. Crammed with vibrant originals brought to life with her A-list touring band, 'Shining in the Half Light' is Bailey's first full length album recorded in the UK & feature's Joe Wilkins on Guitar, Jonny Henderson on Ivories, Matthew Waer on Bass duties and Matthew Jones on drums. It was recorded in deepest Devon in December 2020 at Middle Farm Studios and produced by Dan Weller. An exciting team of co-writers feature with three credits for Ashton Tucker & Will Edmunds, who both wrote with Elles for 'Road I Call Home', plus she teamed up with longtime guitarist Joe Wilkins to write the slow-flowing, philosophical 'Riding Out The Storm'. Other kindred spirits include guitar maestro Martin Harley, for the gentle and romantic 'Different Kind Of Love' and Matt Owens, co-founder of the hugely successful indie-folk outfit Noah and the Whale, on the aforementioned 'Sunshine City'. The album comes to a striking conclusion with its title track, co-written with Nashville's Craig Lackey, written over Zoom in May 2020.

“I saw a literal manifestation of the sacred feminine, and had this profound sense that I was meant to embody it,” recalls celebrated singer-songwriter Lindsay Lou after journeying through a hallucinogenic ritual that would inform the way she processed waves of grief in the sea of change ahead of her. The loss of her grandmother, the end of her marriage, and the overwhelming turmoil of the last few years found the Nashville-based artist on a spiritual journey of self-knowledge and healing with this gift from the mystic swirl. On her new album Queen of Time (due September 29th from Kill Rock Stars), Lou explores that quest across ten tracks of tender, heartbreakingly beautiful music. Featuring a gamut of guests including GRAMMY® Award-winners Billy Strings and Jerry Douglas, Queen of Time celebrates love and loss, but above all, the art of living as an unattainably—a vibrant, powerful woman who can share herself with the world, and yet define a mighty sense of inner self as well.

Two killer tracks of erotic psychedelia with a jazzy twist and touches of acid rock by the French cabaret star Rita and Chilean rock pioneers Aguaturbia. A perfect soundtrack to an imaginary sexploitation film, half-way between the classic sound of library records and a progressive and hypnotic musical journey driven by fuzzy guitars. French actress, model, dancer and singer Rita Cadillac, local star at well-known Parisian cabarets like Crazy Horse or Folies Bergère, recorded several 45s in the 1960s. In 1969, and most likely following the success of the Welsh band Man (from whom they "took inspiration" when recorded this 'Erotica'), released this song that could have easily worked as the perfect soundtrack for a sexploitation movie. Rita's sensual voice is wrapped in a piece of background music that could have been taken from a classic library record from the KPM, Chappell or Montparnasse 2000 catalogues. Hammond-driven prog jazzy passages, subtle fuzzy guitar solos and a contagious bassline all delivered by some anonymous studio band accompanied by Rita's provocative whispers and moans. This 7"-only rarity has been compiled many times over the years, but we thought it would be nice to have it reissued in its original format. What better than another song in a similar vein and identical title, 'Erotica' by Chilean rock pioneers Aguaturbia, to complete this single? Denise's alluring vocals dance harmoniously with Carlos' electrifying guitar loaded with fuzz and wah wah effects, building up a progressive and hypnotic musical journey. This song was included in their much sought-after debut LP and we present it here again as the perfect accompaniment to the sensual Rita.

2025 cassette edition, originally released in 2023 on 2CD/digital.

Recordings + booklet of the unveiling of »Katharina AW«, a relational artwork by Joris Martens. The unveiling event took place at St. Catharine’s Church in Hoogstraten - a city in the northeast of Belgium - on two Saturdays in May 2021.

While beholding the artwork, a woven tapestry, you listen to organ music by Miaux. Outside the church, you hear the carillon gurgle with music by Lieven Martens and town carillonneur Luc Dockx, prolonging the event into the public space.

Joris Martens created »Katharina AW« for the city hall of Hoogstraten. The tapestry now serves as an informal conversation starter in the conference room. Joris Martens is a multi-disciplinary artist and works in the field where applied arts and fine arts meet.

Miaux played her own compositions on the church organ. The songs appeared on the albums Black Space White Cloud, Hideaway, Dive and Gigi - released by Ultra Eczema, Lal Lal Lal, and Alien Passengers - and were originally written for electronic keyboard. Mia demonstrates that the church organ, which is normally used as an underscore for sadness or compelling thoughts, is a fitting instrument of connection. Through its resonance, we communicate our sounds.

Lieven Martens invented sketches for the carillon—by loading bird sounds into the computer program Melodyne, varying them and converting them to musical notes. As a nod to the religion crazy Olivier Messiaen, who considered the birds to be God’s chosen singers and songstresses. The trifles were translated on the carillon by town carillonneur Luc Dockx. The playing comes into and out of focus. In this way, Lieven creates a dreamscape and breaks with the dreary carillon as an instrument of power.

Luc Dockx studied church music at the Lemmens Institute in Leuven and the carillon at the Royal Carillon School in Mechelen. He is the city carillonneur of Hoogstraten since 2002. Dockx is an active practitioner of the art of improvisation on the carillon.

We are thrilled to announce another underground gem on our label. This time, it's Collage's incredible 4-track EP "Mit den Puppen tanzen" (Dancing With The Puppets). Originally released in 1984 on the small FMusic label, the 12" EP is a true highlight in German Electro and NDW history, becoming a sought-after item among collectors. It features intense lyrics by singer Katrin A. Kunze, with music composed by Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah.

Kammann and Grah, both originally from Solingen - a small city near Wuppertal - had previously collaborated on the new wave project Schwarze Bewegung with a different singer. Their self-titled LP was released in 1982 on Bacillus/Bellaphon. During this period, the electro sound pioneered by Kraftwerk evolved into electro-funk, sparked by the release of Afrika Bambaataa's groundbreaking track "Planet Rock", which achieved global acclaim. The iconic Roland TR-808 drum machine, masterfully employed by Arthur Baker's production team, revolutionized dance music with further hits like "Looking for the Perfect Beat" and collaborations with Planet Patrol. Markus Kammann cites these tracks, along with black music as a whole, as key influences on his work. In contrast, much of the electronic music emerging from Germany at the time rather leaned towards the styles of artists like Klaus Schulze and Tangerine Dream. Kammann's influences are evident in Collage's EP, which incorporates elements of early electronic hip-hop, such as the scratching sounds in the title track (created with tape rather than turntables) and short rap segments in "Niemals zurück".

By this time, Kammann and Grah had acquired their own Roland 808 as well as a JUNO-60 keyboard. Grah, originally a drummer, played keyboards and vibraphone, while Kammann, primarily a guitarist, also played bass. All the lyrics on the EP were written and performed by Kathrin A. Kunze, who hailed from Cuxhaven, a northern German city. She moved to Wuppertal around 1983 to study literature, and the group Collage was born.

Through Uwe Bauer, drummer of Fehlfarben, and their manager Horst Lüdge (of Profil), Collage connected with Werner Lambertz, a legendary sound technician from Düsseldorf. Lambertz's state-of-the-art studio featured custom-built sequencers capable of triggering the JUNO-60, as well as expensive equipment like a vocoder. Over the course of a week, the group completed all four tracks.

The EP's hard yet playful electro beats were complemented by Kunze's distinctive performance and introspective lyrics, which lent the songs a uniquely German and wavy touch. Her subtle songwriting conveyed a sense of paranoia and sorrow, as seen in lines like "Ich glaub mir selber nicht. Wer hält denn schon, was er verspricht?" ("I don't believe myself. Who stays true to their word, anyway?").

Unfortunately, the EP was never properly promoted and was distributed solely through the independent market via EFA. Despite this, Collage continued working on new material and pre-recorded an album that garnered label's attention. Polydor expressed interest but proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, the album was never released. In 1987, Kammann, Grah, and Kunze launched another project called Cold End, which released another brilliant and highly sought-after 12" single, Metropolitan Jungle, originally issued on Tam Tam and recently re-released.

The first-ever reissue of "Mit den Puppen tanzen" is limited to only 400 copies - 200 on classic black vinyl and 200 on blue transparent vinyl. The cover art remains true to the original 12" release, designed by the aforementioned Uwe Bauer (aka Bimbo Art). This reissue is a must-have for DJs and collectors alike

Orange Vinyl. Benefits return with the their highly anticipated second album, "Constant Noise" Due out 21st March via Invada Records,"Constant Noise" follows the band's debut album `NAILS' which earned widespread press and radio support and appeared in album of the year lists inc. Louder Than War (#1), BBC 6Music, NME, The Quietus,The Line Of Best Fit and more. After a succession of different line-ups, Benefits have now settled as a two-piece made up of Hall and electronic virtuoso Robbie Major. "We're still angry" says Hall, "just angry in a different way to before. If the previous record was black and white, we wanted this to be technicolour." The first taste of this new musical direction came in the form of "Land Of The Tyrants", which saw the band delving into bass-heavy, dance inflected rhythms and subtle industrial undercurrents. Follow-up single `Relentless' featured The Libertines' Peter Doherty and saw the band move further into ambient electronic atmospherics. Doherty is just one of the collaborators on the new record, Zera Tonin, the singer of queerpop-electro duo Arch Femmesis, Neil Cooper of Therapy?, and Middlesborough rapper Shakk all make cameos. In addition to the guest musicians, the album also features production from James Welsh (Phantasy Sound), and James Adrian Brown (ex-Pulled Apart By Horses)who helped to guide the new direction. The result is an album that gleans as much from the likes of Underworld and Leftfield as it does the likes of The Streets or Beastie Boys in their pomp, or even the 90s / early 00s Indie Sleaze-era. Orange vinyl comes with full album download (inc. two tracks not on vinyl)

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

We are thrilled to announce another underground gem on our label. This time, it's Collage's incredible 4-track EP "Mit den Puppen tanzen" (Dancing With The Puppets). Originally released in 1984 on the small FMusic label, the 12" EP is a true highlight in German Electro and NDW history, becoming a sought-after item among collectors. It features intense lyrics by singer Katrin A. Kunze, with music composed by Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah.

Kammann and Grah, both originally from Solingen - a small city near Wuppertal - had previously collaborated on the new wave project Schwarze Bewegung with a different singer. Their self-titled LP was released in 1982 on Bacillus/Bellaphon. During this period, the electro sound pioneered by Kraftwerk evolved into electro-funk, sparked by the release of Afrika Bambaataa's groundbreaking track "Planet Rock", which achieved global acclaim. The iconic Roland TR-808 drum machine, masterfully employed by Arthur Baker's production team, revolutionized dance music with further hits like "Looking for the Perfect Beat" and collaborations with Planet Patrol. Markus Kammann cites these tracks, along with black music as a whole, as key influences on his work. In contrast, much of the electronic music emerging from Germany at the time rather leaned towards the styles of artists like Klaus Schulze and Tangerine Dream. Kammann's influences are evident in Collage's EP, which incorporates elements of early electronic hip-hop, such as the scratching sounds in the title track (created with tape rather than turntables) and short rap segments in "Niemals zurück".

By this time, Kammann and Grah had acquired their own Roland 808 as well as a JUNO-60 keyboard. Grah, originally a drummer, played keyboards and vibraphone, while Kammann, primarily a guitarist, also played bass. All the lyrics on the EP were written and performed by Kathrin A. Kunze, who hailed from Cuxhaven, a northern German city. She moved to Wuppertal around 1983 to study literature, and the group Collage was born.

Through Uwe Bauer, drummer of Fehlfarben, and their manager Horst Lüdge (of Profil), Collage connected with Werner Lambertz, a legendary sound technician from Düsseldorf. Lambertz's state-of-the-art studio featured custom-built sequencers capable of triggering the JUNO-60, as well as expensive equipment like a vocoder. Over the course of a week, the group completed all four tracks.

The EP's hard yet playful electro beats were complemented by Kunze's distinctive performance and introspective lyrics, which lent the songs a uniquely German and wavy touch. Her subtle songwriting conveyed a sense of paranoia and sorrow, as seen in lines like "Ich glaub mir selber nicht. Wer hält denn schon, was er verspricht?" ("I don't believe myself. Who stays true to their word, anyway?").

Unfortunately, the EP was never properly promoted and was distributed solely through the independent market via EFA. Despite this, Collage continued working on new material and pre-recorded an album that garnered label's attention. Polydor expressed interest but proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, the album was never released. In 1987, Kammann, Grah, and Kunze launched another project called Cold End, which released another brilliant and highly sought-after 12" single, Metropolitan Jungle, originally issued on Tam Tam and recently re-released.

The first-ever reissue of "Mit den Puppen tanzen" is limited to only 400 copies - 200 on classic black vinyl and 200 on blue transparent vinyl. The cover art remains true to the original 12" release, designed by the aforementioned Uwe Bauer (aka Bimbo Art). This reissue is a must-have for DJs and collectors alike

These two vinyl records showcase the legacy left by the boogaloo movement in Peru between 1966 and 1975. They comprise twenty-two songs by seventeen artists who recorded on the remarkable local label MAG more than five decades ago and now invite today’s new generations to dance body and soul to these re-releases. You will find outstanding tracks by the likes of Tito Chicoma, Melcochita, Los Kintos, Otto Rojas, Coco Lagos among many others. MAG was one of the most important and prolific labels in Peru and, though it also was involved in releasing a lot of other types of music, its specialty was the tropical variety, which coincidentally, DJs and collectors seem to crave most. Peru developed a major boogaloo scene in the mid-60s, far from the genre’s place of origin, New York, where iconic songs like 'Bang Bang' and 'El Pito', fused soul and funk with Latin sounds, conquering dance halls and winning extensive radio airplay. The music trend soon spread to Caribbean countries and from there made the geographical leap to the city of Lima. 'El Pito', the collective creation of the Joe Cuba Sextet, was particularly popular. Shorn of overelaborate arrangements, the improvisation and spontaneity of the song resonated with the young generation who were avid for new music after the U.S. placed an embargo on the distribution of Cuban music. In July 1966, Rebeca Llave´s label, Disperú, released the 45 RPM of 'El Pito' (and Joe Cuba's LP), promoting the single in the most prestigious newspaper in the country: El Comercio. The press information stated that the record had sold seventy thousand copies in New York and fifty thousand in Los Angeles. That same year local dance versions by the bands of Alfredo Linares (MAG) and Lucho Macedo (El Virrey) were released, followed by another by the band of the Argentinean musician Enrique Lynch who was based in Peru (Sono Radio). These records were a hit with a new generation that embraced Lucho Macedo's band and the garage rock of Los York's with equal enthusiasm. Although Joe Bataan claimed that boogaloo was killed off at the end of the sixties by the labels and their veteran musicians (who conspired against the new generation of singers), Pete Rodriguez, Richie Ray and the Lebrón Brothers continued to release boogaloo records in Peru, but salsa music soon took over.

Known for his indie-folk-inspired singer-songwriter music that envelops emotions and
moods in intimate, breathtakingly beautiful soundscapes, Cunningham has built a
massive following over the years, amassing more than half a billion streams.
With 'In Light', he wanted to push boundaries. Inspired - and unsettled - by the rapid
development of artificial intelligence, he sought to capture the essence of raw human
creativity. The result is a collection of ten tracks, recorded over five weeks in
Tottenham, North London. These songs-- captured as single takes with minimal
editing-- immerse the listener in a profound stream of consciousness. Cunningham
explores personal truths and reflects on the world's complexities, from the unsettling
grip of big data to the hope that genuine human connection still offers. As he sings in
'This I Know', "The best is yet to be / I believe." The album's title, 'In Light', reflects
Cunningham's optimism, shining through even in darker moments. "We're here right
now / Let's be here again tomorrow," he urges in New Symmetry, concluding with the
poignant affirmation, "I am leaving a light on".

The complete LP + 2 bonus tracks - pressed on 180g virgin vinyl - a limited edition of just 500 copies Ramon "Mongo" Santamaria Rodriguez ("Mongo" is Cuban slang for Ramon) is best known for being the composer of the jazz standard ' Afro Blue, recorded by John Coltrane among others. In 1950 he moved to New York where he became an integral figure in the fusion of Afro-Cuban rhythms with R&B and soul, paving the way for the boogaloo era of the late 1960s. Mongo's 1963 hit rendition of Herbie Hancock's 'Watermelon Man' wasinducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. This release presents Mongo's complete LP 'Mongo Introduces La Lupe', on which he is joined on some tracks by singer Guadalupe Victoria Yoli Raymond, popularly known as, "La Lupe."