Suche:hard to swallow

Pressed On Clear Vinyl! To celebrate the 25th Anniversary of UGK's first album, Get On Down goes the extra mile, presenting it for the first time ever on vinyl. AND 2LP clear vinyl at that, giving the strutting, funky grooves the chance to really stretch out on your system. Back in 1992, Southern hip-hop was still proving to the world that it could sustain a fan base that was chiefly raised on rap from New York and LA. The Geto Boys and 2 Live Crew had made strong cases by the earliest '90s, and Pimp C and Bun B were ready to make their own. Most of the trunk-bumping bass comes from drum programs and basic sampling on these tunes - in later years they would build their sound into something even fuller and deeper. Self-produced with additional work from Houston locals Bernie Bismark and Shetoro Henderson, the tracks here are minimal, slow and menacing, which matched their lyrical approach quite nicely. You can hear the beginnings of the group's true greatness in these early lyrical workouts - several taken from the regional cassette-only EP The Southern Way that got them signed to Jive - with tales of street hustles, relationships and self-reliance in a world stacked against them. They may have been done early-on, but that doesn't mean they aren't crucial to UGK's legacy - cases in point being the three singles: Something Good', a charismatic update to Bill Withers' Use Me Up', and Pocket Full Of Stones' (the latter featured on the Menace II Society soundtrack). Beyond the singles, deeper cuts like I'm So Bad,' Feels Like I'm The One Who's Doin' Dope' and Cramping My Style' made it clear to the world that this crew had the attitude and charisma to make even bigger waves in the years to come.

The Éthiopiques series returns! Essential archive recordings from an extremely fruitful period in Ethiopian music.

Before “Swinging Addis” took over the world, there was Moussié Nerses Nalbandian — the Armenian-born composer who shaped modern Ethiopian music. Mentor, arranger, and pioneer, he laid the foundations of Ethio-jazz.

This Éthiopiques volume revives his forgotten legacy, recorded live by Either/ Orchestra First issue ever with new exclusive photos and in depth liner 8-page insert.

“Ethiopian jazzmen are the best musicians that we have seen so far in Africa.
They really are promising handlers of jazz instruments.”

Wilbur De Paris
(1959, after a concert in Addis Ababa)

አዲስ፡ዘመን። *Addis zèmèn* **A new era.**
The time is the mid-1950s and early 1960s, just before "Swinging Addis" bloomed – or rather boomed – onto the scene. Brass instruments are still dominant, but the advent of the electric guitar, and the very first electronic organs, are just around the corner. Rock’n'Roll, R’n’B, Soul and the Twist have not yet barged their way in. Addis Ababa is steeped in the big band atmosphere of the post-war era, with Glenn Miller's *In the* *Mood* as its world-wide theme song, neck and neck with the Latin craze that was in vogue at the same period. Life has become enjoyable once again, with the return of peace after the terrible Italian Fascist invasion of Ethiopia (1935-1941). The redeployment of modern music is part and parcel of the postwar reconstruction. *Addis zèmèn* – a new era – is the watchword of the postwar period, just as it was all across war-torn Europe.
The generation who were the young parents of baby boomers** were the first to enjoy this musical renaissance, before the baby boomers themselves took over and forever super-charged the soundtrack of the final days of imperial reign. Music is Ethiopia's most popular art form, and very often serves as the best barometer for the upsurge of energy that is critical for reconstruction. Whether it be jazz in Saint-Germain-des-Prés or the *zazous* who revolutionised both jazz and French *chanson* after the *Libération*, be it Madrid's post-Franco Movida, or Dada, the Surrealists and *les années folles* that followed World War I, the periods just after mourning and hardship always give rise to brighter and more tuneful tomorrows. Addis Ababa, as the country's capital, and the epicentre of change, was no exception to this vital rule.

**Two generations of Nalbandian musicians**
Nersès Nalbandian belonged to a family of Armenian exiles, who had moved to Ethiopia in the mid-1920s. The uncle Kevork arrived along with the fabled "*Arba Lidjotch*", the** "*40 Kids*", young Armenian orphans and musicians that the Ras Tafari had recruited when he visited Jerusalem in 1924, intending to turn their brass band into the official imperial band. If Kevork Nalbandian was the one who first opened the way of modernism, pushing innovation so far as to invent musical theatre, it was his nephew Nersès who would go on to become, from the 1940s and until his death in 1977, a pivotal figure of modern Ethiopian music and of the heights it. Going all the way back to the 1950s. Nothing less. And it is Nersès who is largely to thank for the brassy colours that so greatly contributed to the international renown of Ethiopian groove. While the younger generations today venture timidly into the genealogy of their country's modern music, often losing their way amidst a distinctly xenophobic historiographical complacency, many survivors of the imperial period are still around to bear witness and pay tribute to the essential role that "Moussié Nersès" played in the rise of Abyssinia's musical modernity.
Given the year of his birth (15 March 1915), no one knows for sure if Nersès Nalbandian was born in Aintab, today Gaziantep (Turkiye/former Ottoman Empire) or on the other side of the border in Alep, Syria... What is certain is that his family, like the entire Armenian community, was amongst the victims of the genocide perpetrated by the Turks. Alep, the place of safety – today in ruins.
Before Nersès then, there was uncle Kevork (1887-1963). For a quarter of a century, he was a whirlwind of activity in music teaching and theatrical innovation. *Guèbrè Mariam le Gondaré* (የጎንደሬ ገብረ ማርያም አጥቶ ማግኘት, 1926 EC=1934) is his most famous creation. This play included "ten Ethiopian songs" — a totally innovative approach. According to his autobiographical notes, preserved by the Nalbandian family, Kevork indicates that he composed some 50 such pieces over the course of his career. This shows just how much he understood, very early on, the critical importance of song as Ethiopia's crowning artistic form. Indeed, for Ethiopian listeners, the most important thing is the lyrics, with all their multifarious mischief, far more than a strong melody, sophisticated arrangements or even an exceptional voice. (This is also why Ethiopians by and large, and beginning with the artists and producers themselves, believed for a long time — and wrongly — that their music could not possibly be exported, and could never win over audiences abroad, who did not speak the country's languages).

Last but not least, one of Kevork's major contributions remains composing Ethiopia's first national anthem – with lyrics by Yoftahé Negussié.
Nersès Nalbandian moved to Ethiopia at the end of the 1930s, at the behest of his ground-breaking uncle. Proficient in many instruments (pretty much everything but the drums), conductor, choir director, composer, arranger, adapter, creator, piano tuner, purveyor of rented pianos,... he was above all an energetic and influential teacher. From 1946 onwards, thanks to Kevork's connexion, Nersès was appointed musical director of the Addis Ababa Municipality Band. In just a few years, Nersès transformed it into the first truly modern ensemble, thanks to the quality of his teaching, his choice of repertoire, and the sophistication of his arrangements. It was this group that would go on to become the orchestra of the Haile Selassie Theatre shortly after its inauguration in 1955, which was a major celebration of the Emperor's jubilee, marking the 25th anniversary of his on-again-off-again reign.

At some point or other in his long career, Nersès Nalbandian had a hand in the creation of just about every institutional band (Municipality Band, Police Orchestra, Imperial Bodyguard Band, Army Band, Yared Music School…), but it was with the Haile Selassie Theatre – today the National Theatre – that his abilities were most on display, up until his death in 1977. To this must be added the development of choral singing in Ethiopia, hitherto unknown, and a sort of secret garden dedicated to the memory of Armenian sacred music, and brought together in two thick, unpublished volumes. Shortly before his death (November 13, 1977), he was appointed to lead the impressive Ethiopian delegation at Festac in Lagos, Nigeria (January-February 1977).

His status as a stateless foreigner regularly excluded him from the most senior positions, in spite of the respect he commanded (and commands to this day) from the musicians of his era. Naturally gifted and largely self-taught, Nerses was tirelessly curious about new musical developments, drawing inspiration from the very first imported records, and especially from listening intensely to the musical programmes broadcast over short-wave radio – BBC *First*. A prolific composer and arranger, he was constantly mindful of formalising and integrating Ethiopian parameters (specific “musical modes”, pentatonic scale, and the dominance of ternary rhythms) into his “modernisation” of the musical culture, rather than trying to over-westernise it. It even seems very probable that *Moussié* Nerses made a decisive contribution to the development of tighter music-teaching methods, in order to revitalise musical education during this period of prodigious cultural ferment. Flying in the face of all the historiographical and musicological evidence, it is taken as sacrosanct dogma that the four musical modes or chords officially recognised today, the *qǝñǝt* or *qiñit* (ቅኝት), are every bit as millennial as Ethiopia itself. It would appear however that some streamlining of these chords actually took place in around 1960. It was only from this time onward that music teaching was structured around these four fundamental musical modes and chords: *Ambassel*, *Bati*, *Tezeta* and *Antchi Hoyé*. A historical and musical “details” that is, apparently, difficult to swallow, especially if that should honour a *foreigner*. Modern Ethiopian music has Nersès to thank for many of its standards and, to this day, it is not unusual for the National Radio to broadcast thunderous oldies that bear unmistakable traces of his outrageously groovy touch.

Multi-award-winning singer-songwriter and leading UK jazz vocalist Zara McFarlane releases Sweet Whispers – Celebrating Sarah Vaughan on 14th June. The album honours the jazz great who inspired her on her own artistic journey and whose centenary year is marked in 2024.

‘Sweet Whispers’ is more than a run-through of some of Vaughan’s most popular songs. It’s not hard to imagine the immense task in selecting those songs, after all, Vaughan’s recording career spanned 50 years notching up almost 60 albums (plus nearly 30 again in compilations and box sets). Through a thoughtfully chosen selection of songs, formed across months in collaboration with producer, and the album’s clarinettist and saxman, Giacomo Smith – Zara journeys through the musical life of Sarah Vaughan, from her first to last recording, bringing to life and breathing new life into some of her best and less familiar songs. But importantly, the songs that mean the most to Zara.

Zara McFarlane said “It was when I started to listen to Sarah Vaughan that I really began to appreciate jazz vocals. She had such control across her range and a vocal command that was cheeky, playful and fun yet sophisticated and articulate. I really wanted to pay homage to her as I feel she has been somewhat overlooked amongst the jazz singers. Although I do love Ella and Billie, it's all about Sarah for me.”

‘Sweet Whispers – Celebrating Sarah Vaughan’ was recorded analogue at Durham Studios, London. Giacomo assembled a stellar cast of musicians - Joe Webb on piano, Ferg Ireland on double bass, Jas Kayser on drums, Marlon Hibbert on Steel Pan and Gabriella Swallow on cello – to record 11 tracks live to tape; with minimal overdubs, the recording has retained a live, vintage feel. A celebration of Sarah Vaughan could be in no better hands than that of Zara McFarlane, who makes an inspired homage to the ‘Divine One’. Beautifully performed in Zara’s own inimitable style, with her own playful swoops and slides, she has added her own
touch to the music. With a silken voice and timbre that bring emotional depth, attitude and personality to this collection of SaraH Vaughan songs, this is a masterful celebration

From the opening notes – arriving as if in mid-air – to its final, cheerful burblings, Sean Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Old Segotia is an album about friendship: both musical and human, the product of two distinctive musicians visiting each other’s worlds with a sense of veneration, and a sense of joyful wonder.
Here, Mac Erlaine (This is How We Fly, Quiet Music Ensemble) and Ó Raghallaigh (The Gloaming, This is How We Fly) meet on common ground developed over 20 years of playing together, with Mac Erlaine’s musical language rooted in jazz and sonic experimentation, and Ó Raghallaigh emerging from an Irish traditional music that he has shaped and reshaped in a deeply personal way.
In this place, Mac Erlaine and Ó Raghallaigh’s music is profoundly integrated and emotionally textured: at times bursting with explosive energy, at times almost sighing into life, but always searching. Here are the touching unison duets of ‘Cantandor’, the lyrical wanderings of ‘Swallow Dive’, or the flirtations with finding a groove in ‘Reverse Burst’.
The palette of instruments speaks to the album’s feeling of abundance, with Mac Erlaine performing on clarinets, chalumeau d’amore, three different flutes, car hooter, percussion, live electronics, Wurlitzer, synthesiser, vocals and alto saxophone; and with Ó Raghallaigh bringing his signature hardanger d’amore sound plus a turn on the flute and live electronics, too.
With the title echoing a well-worn Dublinese expression for “friend”, Old Segotia plays out with ‘Oiche Crua Sna Sleibhte’ (A Hard Night in the Mountains), with ornithologist Seán Ronayne’s field recordings of birdsong rising out of the musicians’ playful explorations, offering a taste of life echoing music, echoing life.

Wild by nature, the Does of the Florian Pellissier Quintet could never be contained in a creative pen that would have forced them never to cross potential geographical limits. Travelers, spending their energy without restraint to let the hard bop of their jazz wander and export itself wherever the groove guided them, they went as far as Africa or South America, from the Cape of Good Hope to Rio. Rio, precisely where, for their last appearance, exposure to a brief electric current had carried them into outer space. A revelation.
Furious strides, exhausting gambols, the Does had done so much that they could not escape the obvious call of calm and serenity. Freed from distances, and after a stop in Colombia to mingle with the crowd at the Barranquilla carnival, it was California and its Pacific coast they reached, to rest before the peaceful immensity of the ocean.
One hundred sixty-five million square kilometers, an infinite expanse to contemplate in order to fling wide open the gates to an even vaster space. A spiritual domain conducive to the search for new sounds. That of the open sea, where measuring miles is neither relevant nor meaningful, and where the only compass becomes the musical tracks the Does follow.
Beneath their coppery hooves, to the crystalline sound of the Fender Rhodes and the sweep of electric layers, the path to take revealed itself in this meditative and abstract realm they had never before explored. Invited to join the purely organic textures, the synthetic notes distilled a few aromas of sweetness into an album of ten tracks, where the FPQ abandoned written scores on some pieces in order to be guided only by the inspiration born of a newfound freedom.
Blue when they began their journey five albums ago, their coat has now taken on the colors that illuminate the Pacific coast. That moment when, as you gaze at the horizon swallowing the sun, only glowing shades filter through—reddish, orange, violet.
Departing without haste or frenzy from one of the shores bordering the ocean, the voices of Archie Shepp, Iggy Pop, and DjeuhDjoah still resonating in their antlers, the Does may now be on the opposite shore. Carried all the way to the Japanese coast by Hokusai’s wave…

Wild by nature, the Does of the Florian Pellissier Quintet could never be contained in a creative pen that would have forced them never to cross potential geographical limits. Travelers, spending their energy without restraint to let the hard bop of their jazz wander and export itself wherever the groove guided them, they went as far as Africa or South America, from the Cape of Good Hope to Rio. Rio, precisely where, for their last appearance, exposure to a brief electric current had carried them into outer space. A revelation.


Furious strides, exhausting gambols, the Does had done so much that they could not escape the obvious call of calm and serenity. Freed from distances, and after a stop in Colombia to mingle with the crowd at the Barranquilla carnival, it was California and its Pacific coast they reached, to rest before the peaceful immensity of the ocean.


One hundred sixty-five million square kilometers, an infinite expanse to contemplate in order to fling wide open the gates to an even vaster space. A spiritual domain conducive to the search for new sounds. That of the open sea, where measuring miles is neither relevant nor meaningful, and where the only compass becomes the musical tracks the Does follow.


Beneath their coppery hooves, to the crystalline sound of the Fender Rhodes and the sweep of electric layers, the path to take revealed itself in this meditative and abstract realm they had never before explored. Invited to join the purely organic textures, the synthetic notes distilled a few aromas of sweetness into an album of ten tracks, where the FPQ abandoned written scores on some pieces in order to be guided only by the inspiration born of a newfound freedom.


Blue when they began their journey five albums ago, their coat has now taken on the colors that illuminate the Pacific coast. That moment when, as you gaze at the horizon swallowing the sun, only glowing shades filter through—reddish, orange, violet.


Departing without haste or frenzy from one of the shores bordering the ocean, the voices of Archie Shepp, Iggy Pop, and DjeuhDjoah still resonating in their antlers, the Does may now be on the opposite shore. Carried all the way to the Japanese coast by Hokusai’s wave…

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

Starman Records, the Belgian label renowned for re-releasing Belgian rock from the 60s, 70s, and 80s, has so far released five volumes in the highly anticipated and widely acclaimed Belgian Vaults Series, praised by both press and fans.

These unique albums focus entirely on the sixties and early seventies, compiling many rare and hard-to-find tracks—mainly originally released as singles on small, long-forgotten labels. Covering genres such as pop, beat, rock ’n’ roll, and psych, these gems are well worth rediscovering. Belgian Vaults are not just collector’s items; each album features restored and remastered sound quality and is carefully curated to appeal to all fans of sixties rock.

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

Limited edition of 500 copies.

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

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

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

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

Over the last ten years, Chris Imler's perhaps not quite as rapid but equally unstoppable rise has coincided with the world's free fall. “The Internet will break my heart” marks the steepest artistic stage to date. We see a man whose entire oeuvre is a late work, at the dizzying heights of his game. “So, the Internet, that's a really hot topic”, I can already hear blasé hisses here and there in the boxes. But the truth is that the topic is annoyingly topical. Because only now is the world wide web unfolding its full disappointing potential. All pipe dreams of an emancipatory power of the digital multitude (remember Negri/Hardt, haha) are as completely extinguished as the Arab Spring was swallowed up by the pre - nuclear winter. While they are capped from above in authoritarian states, social media in the so - called free world are primarily used by lumpen capital to undermine humanistic standards and by the remnants of the left for self - destructive polarization. But the cute animal videos! They too have their dark side, which Imler brings up in the title song: “The animals in the real world are under pressure”. - Jens Friebe

With their name taken from an episode of the radio program The Goon Show, Ned's Atomic Dustbin formed in Stourbridge, UK, in 1987. They're known for using two bass-players in their line-up and creating a tense and highly driven sub-hardcore sound featuring distorted effects-laden guitar and energetic drums.

In 1992 they released their second studio album Are You Normal?. The album features their American hit song “Not Sleeping Around”, which hit the top of Billboard's Modern Rock Tracks chart. The album was produced by Andy Wallace, best known for his work with Slayer, Prince, Nirvana, Sonic Youth, Paul McCartney and so on.

Are You Normal? is available as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on translucent blue coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Originally released to a fan base and music press that were unprepared for the band to move on from the punk fury of "Crossing The Red Sea", The Adverts "Cast Of Thousands" has since been recognized as a lost classic of the time. TV Smith's cutting observational lyrics and sharp musical instincts saw his song writing grow and move in unexpected directions. The primal thumping was replaced by dynamic and driving drumming, acoustic guitars and probing solos emerged, and Tim Cross joined to add keyboards and fill out the overall sound. The one constant was the pounding throb of Gaye Advert's bass. Encouraged to experiment by surprise producer Tom Newman (Mike Oldfield "Tubular Bells") the band found themselves stretching creatively, both in song writing and recording techniques. They might agonize over the sound of recording a match being lit in the middle of one song, while doing a single take of a vocal via a microphone hung in the bathroom for another. Giant choirs were built meticulously over multiple tracks, while the sound of a rat running through the reverb room would be captured forever. The results wrapped some of TV's best songs in strange and inventive sounds to compliment his anti-pop smarts and rock and roll heart. They did not know it at the time, but the band was falling apart. Tensions would soon rise to the level that replacement players were called in to finish their final tour. Punk fans left them in droves. Critics skewered the singles from the album. Their record label had moved on to the next big thing. Feeling that they had reached a creative peak made the tumble even harder to swallow. Time has been very kind though, and fans discovering punk after the first wave have been able to hear "Cast" for what it is - a brilliant and biting collection of rock and roll. Still full of stomp and swagger even when stripped down on "My Place" or via the anthemic surge of "Television's Over", with TV's hook factory on full display on the anti-love song "Love Songs", and the band closing the album with the creeping ballad "I Will Walk You Home"; The Adverts had grown from a great punk rock band to a great rock band. Black vinyl.

The Moon and the Melodies is a singular record within the Cocteau Twins" catalogue - unusually ethereal, even by their standards, and largely instrumental, guided by the free-form improvisations of Harold Budd, an ambient pioneer who had drifted into their orbit as if by divine intervention. Building on the atmospheric bliss of Victorialand, released earlier the same year, it signalled a possible future for the trio, yet it was a path they"d never take again. Now, almost forty years after it was fi rst released, it"s being reissued on vinyl for the first time - remastered, from the original tapes, by Robin Guthrie himself. Over the ensuing years, The Moon and the Melodies has attracted a passionate fan base. Its most atmospheric tracks routinely turn up in ambient DJ sets. "Sea, Swallow Me" is one of the Cocteau Twins" most streamed songs on Spotify, having found a new life on TikTok, where it serves as the soundtrack to innumerable expressions of hard-to-express melancholy. For such a low-key aff air, the album casts a long shadow - but Raymonde believes the record"s uniqueness stems directly from its humble, unpremeditated origins. "It captured a moment in time between friends that are enjoying making music together. Really, that"s the essence of it."

Hardwood Vinyl. Narrow Head's highly anticipated new LP 12th House Rock arrives August 28th on Run For Cover Records. The Houston-based band's latest entry is the distillation of the greatest moments in 90's alternative and hard rock with a fresh set of ears, thirteen tracks of their signature brand of bludgeoning lullabies bursting at the seams with creative ideas, new directions and yes, massive, monolithic riffs. In between the sparkle and smash, open-hearted and emotionally naked songwriting showcases a core piece of the band's identity- showcasing 12th House Rock as one of the best releases of 2020.Delving into deep-seated themes of self loathing, desolation, self-medication, the loss of loved ones and hopeful redemption,12th House Rock is, as the title suggests, a rock-focused LP themed on transition- exploring the vast abyss of darkness just before the sun cracks upon the horizon. Using distorted guitars as their primary vehicle, Narrow Head's wall of riffs add stark contrast to their best quality- deceptively sweet pop melodies that channel the lessons of My Bloody Valentine, Cocteau Twins, Helmet, Deftones and Guided by Voices all at once.

It's hard to believe it's been four years since the debut release of The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty's kick excellent debut "Ways of Hearing." But growth takes time and rather than rush a follow-up album to market to capitalize on their newfound success, the group opted to take their time and focus their efforts at their own pace. It paid off.On their much anticipated sophomore album, ambition is key. The name of the album itself "The Iliad and the Odyssey and the Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick" spans a glorious 71 characters and is bound to swallow the screen of whatever device that attempts to display the text. The essence of the album is built upon delicate, pleading vocals that sit atop stirring dynamic movements that seem to move between small and vulnerable to full-on symphonies that are bursting with emotion. "The Iliad and the Odyssey and the Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick" will be released by veteran indie label Count Your Lucky Stars on April 25th, 2024 (an homage to their first released single of the album) during the dead time when the cold end of winter is transitioning to a hopeful and promising spring- an apt metaphor that seems to encompass the heart of the album.

Witch Trials will release his anticipated new EP CANNIBAL CULTURE on his own label, MYRYRS. The upcoming EP spans genres and journeys between contemporary dance, electronic, house, and breakbeat - showcasing the progression and expansion of a stand out artist continuing to evolve and reinvent his craft.

The new EP from Witch Trials delivers a time-traveling thrust of rave culture, melodic riffs and atmospheric beats that would work the dancefloor as hard as a solitary listener at home– experiencing the tracks in confinement.

“CANNIBAL CULTURE… it’s the voices in your head that guide you, the demons in the night or day I overcome, the time I close curtains to obscure the light. It's the carnivorous force that kills, it’s the kindness of the crowd on the dancefloor, it’s also the power to continue to create. After the madness, anxiety, and constrictions within or outside of my mind, life goeson.” - WITCH TRIALS

London-based, American-born, and Irish-raised artist Witch Trials releases the visual for his new EP CANNIBAL CULTURE. Confusing the lines that bound or bind art and music, the visual captures the fusion of trauma, light after dark, and a chthonic realm of solitude. The photographic concept and the sound world push distinct interpretations of the mediums and work alone or in harmony.

From the depths of Gothenburg, The Family Men emerge. Since 2017, they have slowly carved out a sound entirely their own within the current music scene, standing out as one of the hardest groups in Sweden today. Making use of unconventional sampling, chainsaw-guitars and gritty industrial tones, they manage to blast their way into yet uncharted musical territory. Their debut album 'No Sound Forever' is an explosive, daring and vital record of a band ready to swallow you whole.