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LP 1 is Original Reissue, LP 2 is the Instrumentals. This album, originally released in 2019, was highly lauded with esteemed praise, topping many Album Of The Year lists inlcuding NPR, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Time Magazine. This vinyl has been out of print and in high demand, repress is restricted to limited quantities and will be out of print again in under a year. Now includes a 2nd LP featuring the never before available Hiding Places instrumentals from Kenny Segal. Fully produced by Kenny Segal, (Project Blowed, Kenstrumentals beat tape Series, Happy Little Trees). LP has unique gatefold artwork by Myra Musgrove and features custom “oakwood” coloured vinyls. Hiding Places is a collaborative album from Brooklyn-based rapper billy woods and Los Angeles beat scene veteran Kenny Segal. As a label, we at Backwoodz take a lot of pride in our physical products; in creating original artwork that will stand the test of time, and in issuing limited-pressings that stay limited. We had always resisted repressing a piece of vinyl and even when the demand for Hiding Places built to a fever pitch during 2019, we stuck to our guns. Still, by the end of the year, as the AOTY nominations kept rolling in, we knew that we needed to do something. But we also were determined not to sacrifice the uniqueness of that first pressing. So we decided to commission all-new artwork, and press up the instrumentals as well and put it all together as a GATEFOLD 2XLP. So, on top of the best album of 2019, you get Kenny’s incredible instrumentals, available on wax for the first time! On its face, it seemed an unlikely pairing; woods who moonlights as ½ of dissonant rap duo Armand Hammer is a chaotic force, the warped relic of an NY indie-rap wave that never happened. Meanwhile, Segal has been in L.A. for twenty years; from paying dues with Project Blowed to pushing the culture forward with Busdriver and Milo. All the while, his soulful, dreamlike production precariously tethered to earth by the right drums or rumbling bass. But look closer and it makes more sense. After all, Segal lent his production to a couple of songs on Paraffin, Armand Hammer’s critically-acclaimed opus, and the two artists have more than a few shared collaborators: Open Mike Eagle, ELUCID, and Hemlock Ernst amongst them. Hiding Places finds both artists deep in the labyrinth. Segal’s lush soundscapes have a new edge, woods’ writing is, paradoxically, at its most direct. Hiding Places is a child’s game: funny and cruel, as brutal as a fairy tale. The album features familiar names from both artists’ well of collaborators with ELUCID, Self-Jupiter, Blockhead and MOTHERMARY making contributions.

'Fly', Michael Mayo's highly anticipated follow-up to his critically-acclaimed debut album, delves deeply into the genre of jazz, allowing his prior collaborations with mentor Herbie Hancock, producer Eli Wolf and Scary Pockets (among others) to fourish on a mix of familiar takes of jazz classics and bold, adventurous originals Showcasing his remarkable versatility and exceptional talent while backed by an allstar band including pianist Shai Maestro, bassist Linda May Han Oh and drummer Nate Smith, 'Fly' solidifes his prowess within the jazz realm, allowing his unique artistry to truly shine. This second pressing is on classic black vinyl.

Night Keeper is a collaborative album by New York City-based artist Aaron Landsman and former Swans guitarist Norman Westberg that is based on the former's eponymous play. Westberg recorded it together with performer Jehan O. Young for the Swiss Hallow Ground label, with Landsman serving as the record’s producer. The original piece was first performed in the Spring of 2023 at The Chocolate Factory Theater in Queens and filled the stark industrial space with spoken text, choreography, projections, and music in dim light and, occasionally, complete darkness. Westberg and Young afterwards brought it to the studio to record it as a two-part
album in whose course his textural sounds, based on loops and samples, set the stage for her soothing, sonorous vocal performance. »Night Keeper« is a performance inspired by sleeplessness and the wanderings of the human mind at night—about time and memory.
Westberg and Young elegantly capture its essence in these roughly 44 minutes with a somnambulic album, letting sound and meaning flow into each other. The initial spark for Night Keeper was a run of almost sleepless nights in different neighbourhoods of a city that is perpetually insomniac. Instead of trying to force himself to go back to sleep by any means necessary, Landsman started writing down his thoughts. As he explains in the liner notes—accompanying the music along with drawings made by audience members during the performances—he started listening to the particular way in which the voice in his head navigates time and language. Accordingly, the texts that Young reads on the record form a diverse collection of specific moments, imagining different speakers and evoking different
situations. Westberg complements, accentuates, and juxtaposes these with different means. Ominous drones, soaring melodies, rhythmic bass sounds: the guitarist, whose latest release for Hallow Ground was 2021’s First Man In The Moon with Polish double bassist Jacek Mazurkiewicz, conjures up distinct sound worlds in which Young can let Landsman’s scenes unfold to gripping effect.
Landsman makes it clear that »Night Keeper« was intended as an invitation to »stay up, look out the window, let what’s happening outside spark reveries or predictions« or even take it on a stroll through the neighbourhood—at night, of course. Much like the original piece, this album is then one dedicated to wandering around, both mentally and physically.

Elori Saxl's soundtrack for the VR film Texada is an exploration of the smallness of human existence within the grand scope of geologic time, mirroring the film's exploration of Texada Island's limestone-rich landscape. Saxl, inspired by her own experiences of island life on Madeline Island, assembled a soundscape that captures both the vastness of Earth's ancient processes and the intimate moments of human existence. Using analog synthesizers, baritone saxophone (performed by Henry Solomon), and processed field recordings of water and rocks, she created ambient layers that evoke cycles, waves, and the transformative forces of nature. The score begins with an exploration of Earth's origins and the emptiness of a rocky planet before life emerged. This foundation grows into pieces like "The Quarry," where the central geological feature, limestone, takes on a dynamic presence. As loops and rumbling textures evoke the rise and movement of stone over millennia, as abstracted creatures spiral upwards, full of life. The album concludes with "The Most Special Place," which serves as a final bridge between the cosmic and the intimate, leaving a lasting impression of how deeply human lives are intertwined with the ancient geology beneath our feet. Saxl's compositional process itself mirrors the themes of transformation and cycles. Working with limited time and resources, she recorded Solomon's saxophone parts early in the project, later repurposing fragments through re-pitching, stretching, and digital effects. As she explains, "I experimented with bringing out the human character of the saxophone by highlighting breath and imperfections while also pushing it into an alien/unrecognizable/bigger world through digital processing and effects." The result is a soundtrack that feels both organic and otherworldly, capturing the grand scope of Earth's timeline while remaining grounded in human emotion and connection.

One of Mile Davis's fnest recordings, an example of one of the 20th century's great ensembles reaching the pinnacle of their craft, a masterpiece by any measure Like his other titles, Relaxin' features a variety of material the band performed simultaneously in concert: the format is perfect for Davis (trumpet), John Coltrane (tenor sax), Philly Joe Jones (drums), and Red Garland (piano). The results are consistently superior in both song selection and execution.

An exclusive 7" re-release of this psychedelic funk ballad from Tulsa's "Outback" Band. As featured on Now-Again's 'More Loving On The Flipside' compilation, "Strangers (In Our Homeland)" epitomises the expression of social & political change during an era of psychedlia infused music. In partnership with the two surviving members of Outback, both Symphonical & Now-Again are proud to showcase the voice of independent artists.

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The origin of "Outback" dates back to the late 50s, a five-piece blues outfit named "Little Lo and the Rest of Us" included music educator & bass guitarist Edward "Cha-Cha" Cherry, saxophonists Eugene "Buggy" Roach & James "Flab" Farley whom, alongside drummer Roscoe J. Dabney III "Roach", Ronnie Wilson on trumpet, guitarists Roy "Rochester" Walker & Michael Collins, would form The Magnificent Seven, the house band for Tulsa's 'Rose Room'.


Alumni of Booker T. Washington High School, The Magnificent Seven influenced & set the standard for the Tulsa sound, as demonstrated through their only single, recorded in 1966, the two part 'Pluck-A-Pluck'. 'The Sevenettes', the groups' female vocal trio, included the rotation of Lena Luckey Wilson, Gwendolyn French, Rose Brewer Lewis, Jeanetta Williams & Maxayn. The Magnificent Seven, led by "Cha-Cha", toured nationally throughout the 60s with their infectious, raw R&B sound, and were the platform for many of Tulsa's talent including Ronnie & Charlie Wilson who would later create the GAP Band.


Roscoe J. Dabney III, the first Black Panther to establish the Tulsa chapter in 1969 known as the NCCF (National Committee to Combat Fascism), proposed the name change to "Outback" in the early 70s. Their sound & formation was changing from R&B to Psychedelic, from the grit to the phase, epitomised by their unique line-up of having two bassists playing simultaneously, both Reggie Cherry & "Chilly" Willie Lewis, the musical foundation to their only recorded single, "Strangers (In Our Homeland)" & "Reggie's Thang".


Song writer & band affiliate, Maurice Pope, produced the lyrics to "Strangers (In Our Homeland)" and handed over the musical attributes to Willie Lewis & Outback to convey his message, as sung by Lena Luckey Wilson. Dabney recalls the song is based on religious scriptures, whilst highlighting the parallel of Black slavery in the U.S.


"Reggie's Thang", written by Dabney's cousin, bassist Reggie Cherry, provides a psychedelic instrumental, a sound which Lena recalls is what set apart Outback from other Tulsa groups. As well as playing clubs, the seated shows provided an environment for the group to showcase their musicianship to those who wanted to be immersed & listen.


Their single, released on Empathy, was recorded in 1972, and are the only known recordings by Outback. Recorded live onto 8-track at a studio located at on East Pine St in the heart of Tulsa's Black community, an independent & unknown studio located on a strip mall.


The Outback members who recorded are:


Lena Luckey Wilson - Vocals

Roscoe J. Dabney III "Roach" - Drums

"Chilly" Willie Lewis - Bass

Reggie Cherry - Bass

Edward "Cha-Cha" Cherry - Keys

Joyce Daws - Trumpet

Roy Walker "Rochester" - Guitar

Robert Luckey "Uncle Bobby"- Percussion

Fredy Berry "Freddy" - Tenor Sax


Band leader & group manager: Edward "Cha-Cha" Cherry

Booking Agent: Ernie Fields Sr.

In 1973 whilst performing in Ft. Worth, TX, Buck Ram approached Willie Lewis backstage and invited him to join The Platters, Lewis accepted. Supposedly, a recording deal was offered to Outback in exchange, which never happened.


The group continued in various formations after Lewis left, however as an integral member, the feeling never equalled their original form and soon after dissolved.


Leon Russell approached Lena Lucky Wilson in 1974 to go on tour with the GAP Band as their backing singer, upon returning Tulsa Lena moved to Los Angeles to pursue her musical career with Leon & Mary Russell amongst various others.


Dabney continued music and became a TV producer & director in 1976.


The only surviving members of Outback today are Lena Luckey Wilson & Roscoe J. Dabney III.

Das fünfte, den Durchbruch für Evan Dando bringende, Lemonheads-Album 'It's A Shame About Ray', wird zum 33-jährigen Jubiläum wieder als Single Vinyl in klassisch schwarz mit der Original-Tracklist nachgepresst (mit Download Card für die zusätzlichen Bonustracks der Deluxe Edition von 2022). Beschrieben von Musikjournalist und Autor Everett True als "Ein 30-minütiger Einblick in das, was es heißt, hart und schnell und locker und glücklich mit gleichgesinnten Kumpels zu leben, angetrieben von einer gemeinsamen Liebe zu ähnlichen Bands und Drogen und Alkohol und Freiheit". It's A Shame About Ray" hatte in jenen berauschenden, sorglosen Tagen des Jahres '92 eine beträchtliche Wirkung. Die Platte fängt perfekt Dandos Fähigkeit ein, die Sehnsucht und Lust der Teenager mühelos in einem zweiminütigen Popsong zu verpacken. Singles wie "My Drug Buddy" und der luftig-perfekte Pop des Titeltracks mögen herausstechen, aber die eigentliche Stärke des Albums liegt in den Tracks dazwischen; das wirklich fantastische 'Confetti' (über die Scheidung von Evans Eltern) und die atemberaubend lässige Akustik-Coverversion von 'Frank Mills' (aus dem Hippie-Musical Hair), eine Version, in der jedes Quäntchen Pathos und Gefühl für die verlorene Generation der 1960er mitzuschwingen scheint. Wenn Evan Dando Zeilen wie "I love him/but it embarrasses me/To walk down the street with him/He lives in Brooklyn somewhere/And he wears his white crash helmet" singt, weiß man erst richtig zu schätzen, wie wunderbar und verlockend Popmusik sein kann. Und dann gibt es da noch den Ansturm von Aufsässigkeit und Unverfrorenheit im wunderbar verkürzten 'Bit Part'; das aufgedrehte 'Ceiling Fan In My Spoon'... das war Jungs/Teenager-Popmusik mit Stil auf einem Niveau mit The Kinks, den frühen Undertones und den Wipers. "Ray sounds revelatory in its restlessness, mixing college pop with country flair and relocating Gus Van Sant's Portland atmosphere to New England." Pitchfork *****½ (Download only adiitional extras: 1 Mrs Robinson 2 Shakey Ground 3 My Drug Buddy (KCRW Session, 1992) 4 Knowing Me, Knowing You (Acoustic) 5 Confetti (Acoustic) 6 Alison's Starting To Happen (Acoustic) 7 Divan. Demo Recordings - Download only. 8 It's A Shame About Ray (Demo) 9 Rockin' Stroll (Demo) 10 My Drug Buddy (Demo) 11 Hannah & Gabi (Demo) 12 Kitchen (Demo) 13 Bit Part (Demo) 14 Rudderless (Demo) 15 Ceiling Fan In My Spoon (Demo) 16 Confetti (Demo))

Scientist's name will be found on many dub releases in peoples record collections.His connection to King Tubby's studio is inseparable and many say when the dub end of Reggae music had fallen on quieter times it was Scientist with his often stripped back style and at other times, wild off the wall remixes that breathed life back into the dub cannon.

Scientist (born Overton Brownie,1960, Jamaica) was in many ways King Tubby's apprentice. Having helped his own father out repairing televisions and such like, he would help Tubby on winding transformer coils, that the amps of the day all needed. His interest in recording grew as he watched the many sessions taking place at Tubby's Dromilly Avenue Studio, learning the ropes as the musicians came and went. His first break happened when King Jammy (then Prince Jammy) was too tired to work on a session booked for producer Errol 'Don' Mais. Scientist engineered the session to every one’s bewilderment and great satisfaction.

His first hit would be a mix of Barrington Levy's 'Collie Weed' and his reputation built on the many versions he cut at Tubby's where he would become the engineer of choice. His pared down mixing style suited the new Dancehall reggae sound that came at the tail end of the 1970's and rolled into the 1980's. Such was his stature that albums were now sold with his name on their jacket, 'Scientist Vs Prince Jammy, 'Scientist meets The Space Invaders' to name but two.

His time at King Tubby's was followed as chief engineer working for the Hookim Brothers at the mighty Channel 1 Studio's and on many of top producer Henry 'Junjo' Lawes tracks, that were hit after hit at the time.

We have compiled some tuff tracks from the late 70's / early 80's just before everything went digital. Some great dub versions to some killer tracks that rocked the dancehalls around this golden time.The mighty Tristan Palmer whose killer cuts 'BadBoys','Stop Spreading Rumours','Eveready' and 'The Greatest Lover’ alongside Michael Palmer's debut release 'Mr Landlord' and Robert Trench's 'Mr Babylon'. The songs stand back-to-back with Tony Tuff's timeless 'Never Trouble Trouble' and the biblical Rod Taylor's 'The Lord is My Light'. Sammy Dread's 'Wah Dah Wah' and the always respectful Dennis Brown's 'Time and Place' all benefited a touch of magic from The Scientist and his laboratory of effects.

Hope you enjoy the set.....

Die mehrfach preisgekrönte norwegische Jazzsängerin und Songwriterin Silje Nergaard präsentiert ihr neues Album "Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest". Dies ist eine zutiefst persönliche Hommage an ihre Eltern und eine musikalische Reise, inspiriert von Erinnerungen, Momenten mit ihrer Familie und Szenen aus ihrem Leben."'Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest' ist nicht nur der Titel eines Albums, sondern auch das, was das Leben im Moment ausmacht - die Erlaubnis, nicht alles perfekt durchdacht haben zu müssen", erklärt Silje Nergaard. "Diese Inspiration stammt aus einer Quelle, die mir sehr nahesteht: meinen Eltern. Sie haben mir gezeigt, wieviel Freude die Musik in ein Zuhause bringen kann - die Freude und auch die Traurigkeit, die sie in unsere Herzen bringt. Sie haben mir beigebracht, dass das Leben nicht immer bis ins letzte Detail geplant sein muss."Mit ihrer besonderen Fähigkeit, bewegende Geschichten mit Musik zu erzählen, vereint Silje auf "Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest" intime Jazzklänge mit orchestralen Arrangements. Dabei wird sie von führenden europäischen Jazzmusikern begleitet, darunter Helge Lien (Piano), Jarle Vespestad (Schlagzeug), Finn Guttormsen (Bass), George (Jojje) Wadenius (Gitarre) und Håkon Kornstad (Saxophon). Ergänzt wird das Ensemble durch das renommierte Stavanger Symphony Orchestra, dirigiert von Vince Mendoza, der die emotional-farbigen, bisweilen geradezu cineastischen Orchesterarrangements für das Album komponiert hat. Mendoza und Nergaard arbeiteten bereits bei dem Grammy-nominierten Album "A Thousand True Stories" zusammen.Besonders bewegend sind die persönlichen Einblicke, die Silje Nergaard in dieses Album eingebaut hat: "Es hat ein paar kleine Momente, die zeigen, wie mein Leben als Kind aussah. Ich habe eine alte Kassette gefunden, auf der ich mit meinem Vater spreche - da war ich gerade mal fünf Jahre alt. Darauf singen meine Schwester, meine Eltern und ich zusammen. Diese Aufnahmen haben mich tief berührt, und ich freue mich, sie mit euch teilen zu können."Das Album vereint die intime Atmosphäre eines Kammer-Jazzensembles mit dem majestätischen Klang eines großen Orchesters. Silje Nergaard beschreibt es als eine Sammlung von Erinnerungen, die die Vergangenheit feierlich nachvollziehbar machen, aber auch einen hoffnungsvollen Blick in die Zukunft werfen. "Das Cover des Albums zeigt ein altes Foto meiner Eltern, als sie jung und frisch verliebt waren - ein Moment purer musikalischer Freude, ohne Gedanken an den nächsten Tag. Dieses Bild und diese Stimmung haben mich inspiriert."Mit "Tomorrow We'll Figure Out the Rest" zeigt Silje Nergaard einmal mehr, warum sie zu den herausragendsten Künstlerinnen der Jazzszene gehört: persönlich, authentisch und musikalisch brillant.

Black Vinyl

“Sometimes They Come Back” is not just the title of a horror movie based on a macabre tale by Stephen King, it is also a summary of what happened to UK death etal veterans BENEDICTION, yet you might ke to add a “better than ever before”. While never officially disbanded, 2020’s Scriptures, the group’s eighth studio album achieved what is usually not an easy feat. It connected well with classics like Transcend the Rubicon (1993) and its immediate and memorable songwriting, the heavy-as-a-brick Grind Bastard (1998), and also saw legendary vocalist Dave Ingram return with his merciless roar and knack for morbid, twisted lyrics. After two albums with Dave Hunt on vocals, Scriptures was BENEDICTION’s first record in over a decade impressing with aggressive up-tempo attacks like ‘Iterations of I’ and ‘Rabid Carnality’ or the neck-breaking mid-tempo barrage of ‘Stormcrow’, songs that became live staples alongside ‘evergreens’ such as ‘I Bow to None’, ‘Magnificat’, ‘Subconscious Terror’ or ‘Vision in the Shroud’ in no time. With Scriptures, BENEDICTION even almost cracked Germany’s top ten by entering at a phenomenal #11 of the Official German Charts showing that the death metal veterans founded 1989 in Birmingham, England, offered an extremely well received sonic catharsis when due to the pandemic, people were locked down and pissed off.
When the shroud of Covid-19 lifted, the quintet finally could start to promote the album onstage with numerous festival gigs including Summer Breeze (DE), Copenhell (DK), Mystic Festival (PL), UK Deathfest, Alcatraz (BE), Party.San (DE), Obscene Extreme (CZ), Eindhoven Metal Meeting (NL) and Rock Hard (DE) to name but a few, played triumphant shows in South and Middle America as well as in their home country and all over Europe.
Kicking in the door without further warning, fast paced opener ‘A Carrion Harvest’ that mounts in a vicious Slayer-style break, starts with Ingram growling ‘Brace for impact, go!’ giving an unmistakable hint at what to expect during the following 47 minutes and 11 songs. With tremolo riffs and hammering grooves in spades, tracks like ‘Engines of War’, ‘Genesis Chamber’, ‘Crawling over Corpses’, ‘In the Dread of the Night’, and ‘Psychosister’ show a remarkable consistency and Scott Atkins, who produced the record at Grindstone Studio once again, ensures with a crisp and massive sound that the aforementioned impact leaves no bone unshattered. Garnered with artwork by Wolven Claws Artist, Ravage Of Empires continues BENEDICTION’s flawless discography on Premier League level and promises to become one of 2025’s undisputable old school death metal highlights!
With their brilliant new record in tow, founding members and guitarists Darren Brookes and Peter Rew, longtime vocalist Dave Ingram, drummer Giovanni Durst, and Nik Sampson (bass) will travel far and wide once more. Already confirmed are the Tales of the Triple Death Tour with Jungle Rot and Master kicking off on album release date as well as confirmed appearances at Wacken Open Air and Maryland Deathfest. More to be announced soon!

Petrol Green Vinyl

“Sometimes They Come Back” is not just the title of a horror movie based on a macabre tale by Stephen King, it is also a summary of what happened to UK death etal veterans BENEDICTION, yet you might ke to add a “better than ever before”. While never officially disbanded, 2020’s Scriptures, the group’s eighth studio album achieved what is usually not an easy feat. It connected well with classics like Transcend the Rubicon (1993) and its immediate and memorable songwriting, the heavy-as-a-brick Grind Bastard (1998), and also saw legendary vocalist Dave Ingram return with his merciless roar and knack for morbid, twisted lyrics. After two albums with Dave Hunt on vocals, Scriptures was BENEDICTION’s first record in over a decade impressing with aggressive up-tempo attacks like ‘Iterations of I’ and ‘Rabid Carnality’ or the neck-breaking mid-tempo barrage of ‘Stormcrow’, songs that became live staples alongside ‘evergreens’ such as ‘I Bow to None’, ‘Magnificat’, ‘Subconscious Terror’ or ‘Vision in the Shroud’ in no time. With Scriptures, BENEDICTION even almost cracked Germany’s top ten by entering at a phenomenal #11 of the Official German Charts showing that the death metal veterans founded 1989 in Birmingham, England, offered an extremely well received sonic catharsis when due to the pandemic, people were locked down and pissed off.
When the shroud of Covid-19 lifted, the quintet finally could start to promote the album onstage with numerous festival gigs including Summer Breeze (DE), Copenhell (DK), Mystic Festival (PL), UK Deathfest, Alcatraz (BE), Party.San (DE), Obscene Extreme (CZ), Eindhoven Metal Meeting (NL) and Rock Hard (DE) to name but a few, played triumphant shows in South and Middle America as well as in their home country and all over Europe.
Kicking in the door without further warning, fast paced opener ‘A Carrion Harvest’ that mounts in a vicious Slayer-style break, starts with Ingram growling ‘Brace for impact, go!’ giving an unmistakable hint at what to expect during the following 47 minutes and 11 songs. With tremolo riffs and hammering grooves in spades, tracks like ‘Engines of War’, ‘Genesis Chamber’, ‘Crawling over Corpses’, ‘In the Dread of the Night’, and ‘Psychosister’ show a remarkable consistency and Scott Atkins, who produced the record at Grindstone Studio once again, ensures with a crisp and massive sound that the aforementioned impact leaves no bone unshattered. Garnered with artwork by Wolven Claws Artist, Ravage Of Empires continues BENEDICTION’s flawless discography on Premier League level and promises to become one of 2025’s undisputable old school death metal highlights!
With their brilliant new record in tow, founding members and guitarists Darren Brookes and Peter Rew, longtime vocalist Dave Ingram, drummer Giovanni Durst, and Nik Sampson (bass) will travel far and wide once more. Already confirmed are the Tales of the Triple Death Tour with Jungle Rot and Master kicking off on album release date as well as confirmed appearances at Wacken Open Air and Maryland Deathfest. More to be announced soon!

SYML is the solo venture of artist Brian Fennell. Welsh for “simple”—he makes music that taps into the instincts that drive us to places of sanctuary, whether that be a place or a person. Born and raised in Seattle, Fennell studied piano and became a self-taught producer, programmer, and guitarist. Says Fennell about his album Nobody Lives Here, "We change, the world changes, and there is so much unknown. About a year ago I started writing songs that represent the change that is happening in front of my face, a group that have emerged to become the third SYML album. Many of these songs are about getting older, and the intimate, and sometimes frightening, passing of time. Some are about how getting older revolves around looking forward to things happening, and when they don’t happen, or they feel different than anticipated, we can be left with surprise and sadness. I’m actually reminded of this watching my 2 year old! We learn to live with disappointment. I recorded some of these songs with kids and dogs making noise in the background, and others in silent studios with musicians I’ve listened to and admired for many years. These songs are meant to be pieces of clothing to wear as you need (or I need). Some are bright and bold and others are gentle, but they were all made with a sense of comfort in mind, even when things feel bleak. My wife jokes that when our friends hear some of these songs, they might think we are not “ok”. Thankfully, putting myself inside a sad song is still a good place to feel happy. There's this generally unspoken feeling that musicians don’t listen to their own music. That isn’t true for me. I love living with my songs because their meaning changes as I change. There is as much fear and beauty in the big questions as there is wonder and possibility in the simple, everyday shit we live through.”

*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.

On a creative roll of late, Linkwoods productions have branched out in many directions, a collaboration LP with jazz Genius Greg Foat, Another with Local Edinburgh Legend Other lands and a load more yet to surface. Linkwood now comes back to solo work with a hyper focused piece of electro goodness. Lo-fi but all the better for it, Mono comprises 14 deeply distilled tracks. After producing some more complex records it was time for a pure palate cleanser so we locked Nick in the Athens of the north studio for a week with his friends Moog and Oberheim to see what might happen. Somewhere between Electro, Early 80s Synth pop and techno the album is an extremely listenable piece as a whole, unpretentious and timeless. Sprinklings ofDave Stewart pop noodles, Newbuild, Early Era Nu Groove but very much Linkwood at the same time, I cant recommend this enough.

‘The Return of Pachyman’ is a supernatural force
from a brave new world that’s a little bit San Juan,
a little LA, and a whole lot of Channel One in
Kingston, Jamaica. Designed to be a resurrection
of sound systems from the past through which we
can celebrate a post-Trump future, the record
shows that blasting off into reggae’s deep space
has never gone out of style.
Pachy García (aka Pachyman) is perhaps best
known as the drummer / vocalist for the LA-based
band Prettiest Eyes, a unique pop-noise project
that reflects his other formative interest, synth
punk. He thinks of ‘The Return of Pachyman’ the
same way King Tubby might - an ‘X-ray’ of reggae
music, breaking it down to its bare bones.
Originally a guitarist, he moved to Los Angeles in
the early 2010s and developed his passion for
dub. From there, he started recording bass, drums
and piano and collecting recording equipment in
his basement studio, which he calls 333 House.
With ‘The Return of Pachyman’, García wants to
show how the Caribbean flow is transnational, a
vibe that resounds from Jamaica to San Juan to
Southern California. “With this project, I was
looking to make positive music and radiate good
energy; something to kinda disconnect from the
negative things that were happening at the
moment,” Garcia explains. “I am trying to make this
project a service for humanity in the sense that I
just wanted to shine a positive light.”

aya's incredibly inventive Hyperdub debut album im hole distilled the incisive sonic experimentation of her early run of releases, the tongue-in-cheek giggles of her DJ sets and radio show, and the identity-fluxing lyricism of her live shows into a delirious tug of war between pleasure and dysmorphia. The album was championed from all corners, 'Best New Music' in Pitchfork to Radio 6 DJ Maryanne Hobbs 'Album of the Year', followed by a run of incredible live shows which drew new listeners further into her world. hexed!, aya's second album, confronts the desperation and dysfunction of addiction. Internalised phobias and suppressed traumas haunt the corridors and golden hours once romanticised on 2021's im hole; daymares concealed by nocturnal afters-hopping and key bag circles. Opener `I am the pipe I hit myself with' exposes the gray portrait secreted somewhere between the 8th and 9th floors of her previous record. `I used to say some shit for sure', `I used to say it when I was me-less'. hexed! is about what happens when aya turns the lights on.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Now and again, an album project with no home comes along out of the blue, demanding to be licensed and shared with the world.

It was unearthed on one of Paper's digging trips. BOM's album sounded like nothing else out there, only the future. Shrouded in mystery and country-of-origin unknown, Africa runs through its DNA, but sometimes mysteries are best left...

Ase - a Yoruba philosophy signifying the power that makes things happen and produces change; given to Gods, ancestors, spirits, humans, animals, plants, rocks, rivers, songs and prayers.
BOM takes influence from all corners of Africa and its diaspora, blending them with 25 years of Western electronic music into a melange of forward facing, leftfield afro futurism.
The album features one of Africa's brightest rising stars, Luka Productions (from Mali), cosmic poet Sirius Rush (UK) and master drummer & vocalist Felix Ngindu (DRC/Liverpool) for a journey into kaleidoscopic Afro-tech funk. Gqom, Shangaan electro and township funk rub shoulders with hip-hop, bass, deep house and dub for a psychedelic celebration of collaboration and possibility.

As geographical and musical barriers are broken down, BOM's 'Ase' album is leading the charge; London to Lagos, Lisbon to Sao Paulo, Bamako to Berlin, BOM captures the sound of the underground.

'It begins with a shoebox of mysterious provenance, full of recordings from the Vendée department on France’s western seaboard: songs of love and war, life and death, played out on land and sea. Songs passed down and sung by ordinary men and women, gracefully delivered with the poetic economy which unites the folk song of all peoples.

Next it takes a group of contemporary musicians to make selections from this treasure trove and sing these old songs anew; to sing them for their beauty, of course, and to reclaim the people’s tradition from those who would seek to exploit it for nefarious political ends. Who better for this task than Tartine de Clous, a singing trio from Vendée’s neighbouring department of Charente-Maritime, who burst into national and international consciousness with their debut album "Sans Folklore" in 2015? The result of their shoebox rummagings, the new album "Compter les dents", recorded in 2019 and finally seeing the light of day, is bound to delight old fans and win them many new ones.

Time makes many’s the alteration, and "Compter les dents" finds 'les garçons' - Geoffroy Dudouit, Thomas Georget and Guillaume Maupin - in a different state of being from their debut release. The trio, friends since youth, have certainly matured between albums, as one would expect; consequently the newer performances are more considered and poised, unfolding with a patient confidence. A relaxed domesticity prevails, something to do with the fact that the album was entirely recorded chez les amis, in contrast to the first album, which was mostly recorded at live performances in bars and night-spots across France.

Lending gravitas to the grain of their voices we mark a deepened richness, doubtless born of the various vicissitudes of daily existence which these gentlemen - and we too as citizens of this turmoiled globe - have weathered in the intervening years. Not too dissimilar, in fact,
from some of the vicissitudes detailed in those old Vendée songs. Plus 'ça change', right?

There’s a greater complexity and subtlety to their unique three-part harmonising, too. Their voices mesh in even stronger - almost telepathic - 'fraternité' than ever before: now commanding and mighty as a full-rigged counter-vessel, now gentle and lulling as a mother’s
cradle-croon, or as the whisper in a lover’s ear.

Three legendary figures of French traditional music, now sadly departed, preside as tutelary spirits over Compter les dents. They are: the late Claude Flagel, musician and ethnomusicologist; and the late Jean-Loup Baly of the well-known 1970s band Mélusine. Most of the album was recorded by Claude in the Brussels home he shared with his late wife Lou Flagel. The album is dedicated to the memory of Jean-Loup, Claude and Lou.

For the first time there are several guest instrumentalists working their magic to expand the Tartine de Clous sound. Jean-Loup plays a characterful accordéon on the song ‘La Veuve'. The other guests are: Maurice Artus (voice), Robert Thébaut (violin), Quentin Manfroy (piccolo, contrabassoon), Marceau Portron (cigar box guitar). Their contributions add even more conviviality to that which the trio of singers already share, a sensation which will doubtless be shared by those who happen to find a place in their lives for "Compter les dents".'

Liner notes by Alasdair Roberts.

Apollo / R&S are delighted to welcome back The Primitive Painter, aka the duo of Roman Flügel and Jörn Elling Wuttke for a timely reissue of their 1994 lost classic self-titled album of sonorous IDM.

Growing up in Frankfurt, in the 80s and 90s the duo met at an indie rock club in their home town of Darmstadt, bonding over their shared obsession with the first wave of acid, Chicago house and early Detroit techno as well as their patronage of now iconic Frankfurt club nights like The Omen or Dorian Gray or the infamous Delirium Record shop run by scene stalwarts Ata (Robert Johnson) and Heiko MSO (Playhouse).

Taking inspiration from the likes of The Black Dog and Transmat as well as seminal compilations such as Planet E’s Intergalactic Beats and Warp’s Artificial intelligence compilation the duo honed their inventive take on the Detroit techno blueprint under the monicker Acid Jesus, debuting on their freshly minted Klang Elektronik label. The label was started in conjunction with Ata and Heiko after Fluegel & Wuttke (regular patrons of the Delirium store) pressed a demo on them, muttering the immortal line; “Please listen to the tape, we are big Mr. Fingers fans.”

Through the mid ’90s the project flourished giving rise to a classic album and a brace of singles that number amongst the best of the era’s techno, winning them a influential fans most notably Sven Väth, David Holmes and Andrew Weatherall who invited them to play live at one of the legendary Sabresonic parties in London.

Alongside the success of the Acid Jesus project, the duo found great inspiration in outside of the club, including an ambient happening when the KLF came to play Frankfurt; “There were live sheep eating grass on stage while they played at Mark Spoon’s club XS”, as well as cinematic influence from the likes of Jim Jarmush and Wim Wenders. It was however the euphonic IDM grandeur of Apollo Recordings self titled compilation of 1993 that really got their creative juices flowing: “It was a ten track compilation with artists like David Morley, Model 500, Aphex Twin which still sounds so good today,” Jörn enthuses. “ It was really the trigger to go away from the Detroit sound and more towards the big melodies of B12 etc.”

Deciding to make their tribute to this style of music the duo turned out 10 tracks of gauzy, melodious electronica in a white hot fever, one after another over the ensuing months. Settling on a name for the new project they picked ‘The Primitive Painters’ taking inspiration from the band Felt. “We are both children of the C86 movement,” explains Jörn. “this attitude of noisy art school influenced rock like Primal Scream, MBV, The Jesus & Mary Chain really inspired us to take a DIY approach to our music.”

They sent the resulting demo cassette to Renaat at R&S / Apollo. “We really had no expectations,” Jörn explains. “So we were shocked and delighted when we received a fax saying that he wanted to release it”.

The resulting release was bungled by an R&S mix up that attributed the album to the duo’s own Klang Elektronik label which confused both fans and distributors alike, denying the release the critical boost and attention that it so richly deserved. Accordingly the release slipped out without much fanfare, with a chastened Fluegel & Wuttke returning to their Acid Jesus activities which would eventually lead to their blockbusting success as Alter Ego.

Over the ensuing years the reputation of The Primitive Painter album has only grown, with second hand copies (only 500 vinyl were pressed) changing hands for exorbitant amounts on Discogs, leading us to this opportune moment of a richly deserved ‘first’ release on the label for which the project was started, Apollo / R&S.

“This really brings us full circle,” says Jörn. “Apollo / R&S meant and means so much to us as artists and so it was bittersweet to not have the official release - to put that right all these years later feels really good.”

This new vinyl release comes in re-created original gatefold artwork and includes all original 10 tracks (Stoned Soul Picnic was previously on the CD only).

Tappa Zukie is not only one of Jamaica’s greatest DJ’s, is also a much respected producer and arranger. Looking back through his master tapes we have found a lost release that due to being a worldwide recording artist and the pressures that this carries, it has stayed on his musical shelf and been passed over... until now.

When rhythm was King way back in the 1970’s, the predominant feature of the final mix down would in most cases be the drums and bass. Bringing drums and bass to the fore, the other instruments that create the tunes mood would take a back seat in the mix. With such fine musicians in the horn sections as Vin Gordon, Deadly ‘Headley’ Bennett and the unstoppable Tommy McCook, it sometimes felt, their services if nothing else were slightly underused.

So one way of rectifying this situation was one that Tappa himself instigated, putting a release together by picking some of his favourite productions that carried classic horn lines alongside those tightly recorded rhythms. Pushing those horn lines up in the mix and so making a feature of some of those touches that although added some colour to the original cut, laid back in the mix to the more Sound System friendly drum and bass cut.

When looking at the music with this approach, some of the other influences that were also in Tappa’s mind can be noticed more. Maybe it’s a Jazzier / Bluesy feel shining through. A strange thing happens that almost takes the song down the avenue of a soundtrack album. An unreleased film score to accompany an unreleased film.

So sit back and enjoy a lost release that time and place did not find time to see the light of day. As the opening track testifies and in the immortal words of Mr Tappa Zukie himself.. “Your Musical Daddy is back... Horns Up !!!!”

A once shocking 1962 LP of love songs…by men, for men. A long lost treasure featuring the cool & sophisticated vocals of Gene Howard and a cast of prime studio jazz musicians, performing a set of standards sung to a male suitor. Ahead of its time in every way. Decades ago, JD Doyle, renowned LGBT music historian and archivist, happened upon a copy of Love Is A Drag. Doyle would often play cuts from it on his radio show, Queer Music Heritage. He remained intrigued by the lack of either artist or producer credited on the album. A vague line of jacket text ambiguously announced, “For Adult Listeners Only - Sultry Stylings by a Most Unusual Vocalist.” And, the facts behind the album would have most likely remained unclear if it were not for one Murray Garrett Out of the blue, Murray Garrett contacted JD Doyle and wanted to talk about the album. According to Garrett, through his photography career, he had forged a friendship and partnership with prolific big band vocalist, Gene Howard. The two worked together on projects, eventually teaming with Jack Ames, founder of Edison International Records. When queried for ideas for a potential Edison International release, Garrett recalled a performance he had once seen in Greenwich Village - a performance of a man singing love songs to another man, in serious fashion, i.e., not at all campy or overly-dramatic. Gene Howard (straight and happily married!) agreed to sing on the record, accompanied by a who’s-who of Los Angeles A-list session men. Upon release, the record sold well in Hollywood, with Frank Sinatra, Liberace, and Bob Hope among its biggest advocates.

• Earliest known full concert recording of Buck and his Buckaroos!
• Mastered from the original tape by Grammy®-winning engineer Michael Graves.
• Extensive liner note from co-producer Scott B. Bomar.
• First pressing on Strawberry Jam-colored vinyl.

Buck Owens and his Buckaroos were a phenomenon when they burst onto the scene in the early 1960s. in 1963–1964, they had five #1 Country hits including “Act Naturally,” “Love’s Gonna Live Here,” “I Don’t Care (Just As Long As You Love Me),” and “My Heart Skips A Beat.”

Their live Carnegie Hall Concert release hit #1 in 1966, but how exciting they were onstage before that was largely unheard. Unless you were there. Until now. The Exciting Sounds Of Buck Owens And His Buckaroos Live From Richmond, Virginia, 1964 is the recently discovered, earliest full-concert recording of The Buckaroos onstage. The band, performing the aforementioned #1 hits and more, shows how their presence and performance in front of a live audience cemented their status as one of the greatest acts of all time—in person and on record.

Painstakingly restored and mastered by multiple Grammy-winning engineer Michael Graves, The Exciting Sounds Of Buck Owens And His Buckaroos Live From Richmond, Virginia, 1964 shows a band ready to take over the world. (Even showing appreciation to their new labelmates, The Beatles, with a cover of “Twist And Shout.”) With a first pressing on strawberry jam colored vinyl, The Exciting Sounds Of Buck Owens And His Buckaroos Live From Richmond, Virginia, 1964 looks and sounds like it could and should have appeared in 1964, but with 21st century style and technology.

So, head to Richmond and hear Buck Owens And His Buckaroos firing on all cylinders. It may have happened over six decades ago, but it sounds as vital and important to music history now as ever.

Six years removed from their last release, Seattle’s Great Grandpa return with Patience, Moonbeam - an ambitious and deeply moving new album that almost didn’t happen. A decade of making music together was put on pause while each of the band’s were called indifferent directions. But as with any good relationship built on mutual love, trust, and a mountain of shared history, the quintet reunited, scrapped most ideas of songs they had put together, and started fresh to work on what would become their best album to date, due out in March on Run For Cover Records. Whereas 2019’s Four of Arrows mostly came together in the pressure cooker atmosphere of the studio with the help of an outside producer, Patience, Moonbeam emerged slowly through a generous demoing process. With fewer constraints and more control, the band had the opportunity to experiment and take their time, leading to a collection that feels and sounds more fully, confidently, themselves. Built on an “open door policy” for writing and recording, Patience, Moonbeam is the result of how seamlessly all five members contributed to the creation of the album. The result is a record that swings like a pendulum from heavy to tender, playful to weighty, painting a sonic illustration of the pains and pleasures of being alive across eleven songs. What could suffer from a kitchen-sink approach instead comes together brilliantly, a testament to the band’s musical and spiritual connection. With Patience, Moonbeam, Great Grandpa has crafted a triumphant document of what happens when your collaborators become your chosen family.

Six years removed from their last release, Seattle’s Great Grandpa return with Patience, Moonbeam - an ambitious and deeply moving new album that almost didn’t happen. A decade of making music together was put on pause while each of the band’s were called indifferent directions. But as with any good relationship built on mutual love, trust, and a mountain of shared history, the quintet reunited, scrapped most ideas of songs they had put together, and started fresh to work on what would become their best album to date, due out in March on Run For Cover Records. Whereas 2019’s Four of Arrows mostly came together in the pressure cooker atmosphere of the studio with the help of an outside producer, Patience, Moonbeam emerged slowly through a generous demoing process. With fewer constraints and more control, the band had the opportunity to experiment and take their time, leading to a collection that feels and sounds more fully, confidently, themselves. Built on an “open door policy” for writing and recording, Patience, Moonbeam is the result of how seamlessly all five members contributed to the creation of the album. The result is a record that swings like a pendulum from heavy to tender, playful to weighty, painting a sonic illustration of the pains and pleasures of being alive across eleven songs. What could suffer from a kitchen-sink approach instead comes together brilliantly, a testament to the band’s musical and spiritual connection. With Patience, Moonbeam, Great Grandpa has crafted a triumphant document of what happens when your collaborators become your chosen family.

»Sometimes Things Change« is an album after a year of profound change. A year with a new job, moving houses, and many visits to the IVF clinic. »Sometimes Things Change« brings closure, and is an artistic starting point. In the course of seven compositions memories, thoughts and fantasia meet.

»The sounds (…) they’re from whatever I happen to be doing wherever I ​happen to be. But these sounds hold memories because I was there, living those moments.« These recorded sounds - flowing like a journal - are mediated through compositional/improvisational interventions. By doing this, the artist expands the source material beyond its own circumstances.

In 1991 Coil released the third of their early classic full-length albums “Love’s Secret Domain”, seemingly casting aside the gloom
and funereal beauty of its predecessors in favour of a painstakingly multi-layered hallucinogenic electronic beast, which unlike
some of their fellow ex-industrial contemporaries’ releases of the time wasn’t an attempt at easy accessibility or (the-godsforbid) danceability, but a vibrating psychedelic masterpiece unrivalled in their discography and still a landmark album.
To mark its 30 year anniversary Infinite Fog are beyond proud to present an expanded, fully remastered re-release of this fan
favourite available for the first time ever in its entirety on vinyl with 10 rare and mostly unreleased tracks and alternative
versions from the period added as a bonus to a luxurious 3LP/2CD set.
Love’s Secret Domain contains among its many highlights the Lynchian William Blake tribute of its title track and the
intoxicating single “Windowpane”, original versions of the later Coil live staple “Teenage Lightning” and the majestically warped
classicisms of “Chaostrophy”. Marc Almond guests on the typhonian “Titan Arch” and This Heat’s Charles Hayward provides
some amazing drum stylings.
This album is Coil pushing their sound ideas and probably their sanity to their very limits. Beyond the iconic Steven Stapleton
cover art here reproduced in unseen definition the doors of perception still open wide for both long-term Coil aficionados and
new-comers to this supremely innovative release to explore unknown depths. The long-overdue re-release illustrates how far
ahead of the curve Coil were with the sounds on this album, which still sounds as fresh and mind-blowing as it did back in the
early 90s.

Seit mehr als einem Vierteljahrhundert lärmt sich Sänger und Gitarrist Harry Armstrong in verschiedenen Bands durch die britische Musikszene: ORANGE GOBLIN, DECOMPOSED, HANGNAIL, END OF LEVEL BOSS, THE WINCHESTER CLUB, EARLS OF MARS, BLIND RIVER_um nur einige zu nennen. Am 21. März 2025 folgt nun endlich das langersehnte zweite Album von NOISEPICKER auf Exile On Mainstream. Nach dem 2018 veröffentlichten Erstling war es zwar nicht wirklich ruhig geworden um die Zweimann-Band mit Kieran Murphy (u.a. COLD COMFORTS, PAIGE KENNEDY), verschiedene Verpflichtungen wie z.B. der extensive Tour-Schedule von Orange Goblin, ließen wenig Zeit für Studioaufnahmen. Doch nun ist es soweit. Nachdem NOISEPICKER auf dem EOM25-Festival im Mai 2024 bereits erste neue Songs vorstellten, ging es kurz danach ins Studio. The Earth Will Swallow The Sun ist das Ergebnis und überrascht mit einem Sound, den Peace Off 2018 bereits vorwegnahm, der aber nun zu voller Blüte gereift ist. Auf der Basis von Blues und Noise erschaffen Noisepicker etwas völlig eigenständiges, mit deutlichen akustischen Verweisen an Tom Waits ebenso wie an The Jesus Lizard. Inhaltlich ist das Album eine Abrechnung mit politischen und gesellschaftlichen Themen, die uns aktuell beschäftigen und die Ohnmacht, unterdrückte Wut ebenso illustrieren wie die Möglichkeit eines Ausbrechens, ohne in blinden Aktionismus zu verfallen. Hier ist nichts poliert, perfekt oder konstruiert. Stattdessen sind NOISEPICKER laut, authentisch und ständig im Wandel, beeinflusst von allem, was Doom, Punk und Blues ist. Und diese Herangehensweise kanalisieren sie in Songs, die emotional, catchy und einzigartig sind.

Inspiriert von der Kohlebergbau-Kultur im Nordosten Englands, präsentiert The Futureheads-Sänger/Gitarrist Barry Hyde eine Songsammlung mit traditionellen Liedern aus dem volkstümlichen Erbe der Bergwerkskultur, interpretiert im typisch englischen, Gänsehaut erzeugenden Arbeiter-Soul-Folk, teils mit nordenglischen Akzent.

Bobby Rush and Kenny Wayne Shepherd were born about 44 years and miles apart. Several decades later after the two forged their own path in music and the blues, it seemed like an idea that had been waiting to happen. For over 100 years, blues music has inspired, comforted and spoken to the truth. YOUNG FASHIONED WAYS has managed to accomplish all of that and more. Shepherd notes, “Once Bobby and I got together, it felt like going home," with Rush adding, "I've been waiting a long time for something like this to come knocking.” Kenny Wayne Shepherd is a multi-platinum recording artist with five Grammy nominations, several Blues Music awards, among many other awards and accolades. Bobby Rush is a 3x Grammy winner and Blues Hall of Famer with his most recent Grammy win for his last album All My Love For You.”

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.

Born from a childhood friendship, the five members of Ciao Kennedy have crafted their own sound and feeling after exploring a variety of different musical horizons. Following the release of EPs 'Keldercave' (2021) and 'the problem is' (2022), as well as being featured on the compilation Lefto presents Jazz Cats Vol. 3 in the spring of 2024, it was only a matter of time for the Brussels-based band to reappear on the music circuit.

As part of the Magma collective, alongside groups like TUKAN and ECHT!, they started to stand out with their instrumental music merging the playfulness of jazz,the repetitive facets of post-rock, and the overtly grand electronic sound evident in what is nowadays described through the grapevine as the 'Brussels sound'.

With Solarium, their debut album set to be released under the Sdban Ultra label, they have found a course and common denominator in guitars drenched with post-rock effects, steered by hypnotic electronic beats, creating an atmosphere of rare, dense melancholy, peppered with a sound that belongs in a blockbuster sci-fi movie.

Ciao Kennedy and its debut album are a tangy candy bursting in your mouth, the thrill of an afternoon at the fair, modernity meeting up with the nostalgia of childhood. Or standing beneath the shimmering neon lights of a rainy night, like colourful poetry, blending tenderness with electric intensity. Many of these musical descriptions would be completely off the mark, but after a few listens, they don't seem to miss the mark either. There's something for everyone to discover on this album, oscillating between the familiar and the unexpected, melancholy and cheer, and while everyone keeps on talking about something being a 'vibe', we can only conclude that Ciao Kennedy is the only one putting this into action.

To celebrate the release of Solarium, the band will host a release party at the Brussels venue Botanique on April 17, 2025. A must-attend event for everyone who wants to see if the live reputation which precedes Ciao Kennedy is actually true. Whatever happens, make sure to keep that date free.

Release show: 17/04 Botanique, Brussels.

Francesco Sotgiu has forged a unique and very swinging project of songs. With a quintet consisting of Luigi Bonafede on piano, Emanuele Cisi and Riccardo Luppi on woodwinds, Salvatore Maiore on bass, Francesco on drums, and with special guest Paolo Fresu on trumpet to cap off this heartfelt collection. There is also a nice diversity of groups within this larger collection. A nice trio piece called “Calm” featuring Paolo Birro sitting in with Marco Micheli and Francesco. And one called “Lotus Blossom” where Francesco shows his considerable skills and soul on violin. But the bulk of the material is straight-ahead jazz and is totally swinging and soulful, proving that jazz has no borders and is a worldwide language to which Francesco has added to that tradition with this project and all the great voices he has included here. Bravo maestro.

This is the comment of Gil Goldstein, American accordion player who won 5 Grammys and collaborated with giants such as Gil Evans, Wayne Shorter, and Michel Petrucciani.

This record was recorded in the middle of the pandemic times, and most of the work for preparing this record took place via the telephone: the selection of the songs on paper, the exchange of ideas on arrangements, staff and instruments, a sort of “phone rehearsal” of the structure of the songs, with the choice of a solo; everything else, everything that will happen in the recording sessions, is the result of a controlled improvisation, a jam session masterfully captured in the studio through the use of well-positioned ribbon microphones.

This is why “Passing,” literally “passing” or “crossing”: because the musicians have gone through listening to these songs as teenagers, and find themselves today, as a mature meeting of old friends who create an informal game made of nostalgic fun, great personality, confrontation, and deep spirituality. In the classic “Caravan” by Ellington and Tizol or “Afro Blue” by Mongo Santamaria, Coltrane toning, the Latin accent of the rhythm section supports the interpretation of the theme and the interplay in the solos between the soprano and tenor saxophones by Cisi & Luppi, and the piano by Bonafede.

A certain elegance in the execution distinguishes pieces such as Duke Ellington’s “Sound of Love,” yet another tribute by Mingus to the Duke, with a calibrated solo on the double bass of Maiore and the flute by Luppi, the immortal “Take Five” by Paul Desmond, with the highlighted soprano by Cisi, “Wishes,” “7th Street,” and the eponymous “Passing,” all pieces composed by Sotgiu, characterized by the precise medium/fast drive of the drums and a certain “cinematic” taste of the main themes.

In songs such as “Black Bats and Poles,” composed by trumpeter Jack Walrath for the Mingus Orchestra, and in “Stranatole,” an original piece in which Sotgiu writes a theme of Monk’s influence and enjoys overturning the traditional “Anatole Jazz” structure, the quintet opts for an effective hard bop language, with exciting moments of dazzling virtuosity in Bonafede’s solo. While in Coltrane’s “Wise One” and McCoy Tyner’s “Ballad for Aisha,” we enter a modal, mystical, and ceremonial jazz, of a cosmic depth, which seems to hover in the sweet volume of the great hall of the recording studio. These are truly magnificent interpretations.

A special separate mention for two classics such as “My Foolish Heart” by Victor Young, performed in trio by Sotgiu, Maiore, and the unmistakable trumpet by Paolo Fresu, and the (unfortunately very short) “Lotus Blossom” by Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington, which in the piano-violin duo of Birro and Sotgiu, in a minute gives a suspended momentary magic, sums up the roots of African-American jazz music, and also referencing an old-fashioned Italian musical sensitivity, typical of Nino Rota’s music for Federico Fellini’s films.

Mr Bongo is proud to present 'The Original Sound of Mali', compiled by Vik Sohonie & David Buttle.
Malian music is arguably deeper, more sophisticated and lyrical than any other form of African music. Those of us deeply entranced by Malian culture, and, in particular, the immense hypnotic beauty of Malian music, have put together a
selection of songs from across the country.
Compiled by Vik Sohonie & Dave 'Mr Bongo' Buttle, the story of this release began in 2015 when Dave happened upon the Soul Bonanza blog. A treasure chest of rare finds from around the world! One mix in particular stood out and totally enthralled Dave - le monde à change: a tribute to mali 1970 - 1991. He
already knew of Malian legends such as the Rail Band, Salif Keita, & Les Ambassadeurs du Motel de Bamako, but this mix was something else! Deep & culled from the collections of some of the heaviest African music collectors in the world, legends like Vik Sohonie, Hidehito Morimoto, Philippe Noel, Gregoire
Villanova, and Rickard Masip. Dave immediately contacted Vik and a journey of discovery tracking down the rights-holders began. He also turned to the font of Malian music knowledge, Florent Mazzoleni. Florent has written the definitive book about Malian music - 'Musiques modernes et traditionnelles du Mali'. He
proposed some incredible tracks to include and provided the back bone of the sleeve notes and photos that are used in the album. No Malian album would be complete without a striking front cover photo, and ours is sourced from the late great Malian photographer Malick Sidibé.
On this album you will find well-known artists sitting next to rarer
discoveries. The Rail Band, who are one of the best known of all the big bands in Mali, gave us the stars Mory Kanté and Salif Keita. Les Amabassedeurs du Motel de Bamako were another big act that had Idrissa Soumaoro, Kanté Manfila, and for a while Salif Keita in their ranks. Sometimes Salif would play in both bands in one night, quite a feat considering the bands were fierce rivals. As an albino Salif has had to face considerable prejudice from society, focussing on his musical career to help overcome this.

A major discovery on the album has been Idrissa Soumaoro et L'Eclipse de L'Ija. L'Eclipse de l'Institut des Jeunes Aveugles was a Blind teenagers institute and their record was produced by the German association that took care of blind Malian teenagers in Bamako. It was never properly released commercially and was the first recordings by the legends of Malian music Idrissa Soumaoro, Amadou Bagayoko and Mariam Doumbia. Amadou & Mariam later got married and became household stars, including making an album with Manu Chao.
This album is a concerted global effort to showcase the most vital cornerstone of Malian culture in an attempt to preserve its reputation in the face of its current, grim reality. We hope our highlights of Mali's rich history of musical innovation will serve as a starting point for reclaiming an image tainted by unnecessary conflict. May peace and music return to Mali soon.
Dedicated to Malick Sidibé.

Because of their mix of hellified gangster shit and progressive compositions, I once jokingly called Clipping "Deathrow Tull." Well, it's not a joke anymore. While Clipping's last few projects have been record-long concepts like classic prog rock, their cyberpunk-infused new album Dead Channel Sky is mixtape-like, a carefully curated collection in which every track is a love letter to a possible present. It sounds crisp and classic at the same time. When something strikes us as retrospective and futuristic at the same time, it's a reminder of how slipshod our present moment truly is. Juxtaposing high-tech, corporate command-and-control systems (the "cyber") with the lo-fi, D.I.Y. underground (the "punk"), cyberpunk proper starts in 1982 and ends in 1999, from Blade Runner to The Matrix. Concurrently, hip-hop matured, went through its Golden Era, then melted into further forms: it went from from Fab 5 Freddy to Public Enemy to Missy Elliott. While other genres flirted with it, hip-hop was fickle and fey. Rap and rock birthed mutant offspring maligned by most, and hip-hop's relations with electronica rarely fared any better. What if someone explicitly merged hip-hop and cyberpunk - those twin suns of the '80s and '90s - into one set and sound? After all, both movements are the result of hacking the haunted leftovers of a war-torn culture that's long since moved on. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping texture-map the twin histories of hip-hop and cyberpunk onto an alternate present where Rammellzee and Bambaataa are the superheroes of old; where Cybotron and Mantronix are the reigning legends; where Egyptian Lover and Freestyle are debated endlessly, and Ultramag and Public Enemy are the undeniable forefathers; where the lost movements of 1980s and the 1990s are still happening: rave, trip-hop, hip-house, acid house, drum & bass, big beat-the detritus of a different timeline, the survivors of armed audio warfare. Clipping are no strangers to sci-fi: two of their records were nominated for Hugo Awards (one of science fiction's top literary prizes), and a novella spun-off from their music was nominated for a third. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping's co-conspirators include everyone from the guitarist Nels Cline, to their labelmates Cartel Madras, rapper/actor Tia Nomore, and wordsmith Aesop Rock. Diggs is known for intricate lyrics and rapid-fire rapping, and the tracks that Snipes and Hutson build in the background are no less complex. All of the above serves to give us a glimpse of an adjacent possible present, where hip-hop and cyberpunk are one culture. Binary stars are often perceived as one object when viewed with the naked eye. Like those twin sun systems, it'll take some special equipment and some discerning attention to pull the stars apart on this record. As Diggs barks on the fire-starting "Change the Channel": Everything is very important!