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Growing up is painful, brutal, and sometimes beautiful _ something Brooklyn-based indie-rock band Bedridden knows all too well. The band's name is even a nod to that ineffable period between childhood and the jagged edges of the real world. "When I was 21, I kind of lost my home," says frontman/guitarist Jack Riley. "I was couch-surfing. I was having a hard time.The next iteration in the band's maturation, then, is their debut, LP Moths Strapped To Eachother's Backs, 10 fuzzed-out (and sometimes gnarly) ruminations on dating, drugs, and survival out April 11 on Julia's War. The title came from a mysterious missive Riley received on astrology app Co-Star. "Last year I was way too reliant on other people _ my partner at the time, my friends," he says. "I was strapped to them in a weird way _ and flying in circles. This album is about that time."The current incarnation of Bedridden encompasses a patchwork of styles, influences, and friends Riley accumulated over the years. A Chicago native who first started making music at age five on a thrift-store guitar emblazoned with Kurt Cobain's name, Riley moved to New Orleans for college where he dabbled in punk before falling in love with shoegaze. There, he launched the first version of Bedridden. Sebastian Duzian (bass) _ a jazz musician and Pasadena native _ linked up with Riley in NOLA along with his bandmate, drummer Nick Pedroza. Pedroza, from Claremont, grew up on rock, metal, and jazz, honing his style after joining the band. Wesley Wolffe _ a guitarist fed on a steady diet of New Wave and `90s alt _ rounded out the crew just a few months back. Bedridden's previous lineup released their first EP, Amateur Heartthrob, in 2023 _ a noise-washed blend of shoegaze, DIY, and indie that Riley says is a "coming-of-age EP _ these formative stories about not having a bed, dating, being kind of a jackass. I was making fun of myself a lot." That release caught the attention of Douglas Dulgarian from Philly Label Julia's War (and TAGABOW), who signed them for Moths."Some of these songs have been around for years," says Riley, adding that they were recorded last February at Studio G Brooklyn; the album was produced by Aron Kobayashi Ritch (Momma). "As opposed to Amateur Heartthrob, we attempted to blend more clean guitars into a driving sound to capture more clarity _ one that also sounds live_ and raw," Riley says. That rawness thrums through the record, which kicks off with the thrashed "Gummy," about an incident when Riley had to gently fend off a co-worker's unwanted advances while both drunk and high on an MDMA gummy. And then there's mournful rager "Etch," which sees Riley daydreaming about beating up a meddler in his personal life _ in the minor key.The annihilating "Chainsaw" revs in next, a lightning-fast Lemonheads-inspired track that recalls Riley moving in with new roommates who were unnaturally obsessed with purchasing a lamp. "For some reason that pissed me off," he laughs; that rage is evident in the album cover, which shows said power tool demolishing a lampshade. Heavy-shredding "Heaven's Leg" showcases the band's affinity for `90s mainstays like Smashing Pumpkins while telling the tale of a gig at a local church. "The lyrics are about a pastor I had met that had lost his leg," Riley says. "The church had signs about not cussing and I had a feeling that neither of us had anything to talk about without potentially offending the other."The band's not afraid to get confrontational, though, on the anger-fueled, drum-heavy "Philadelphia, Get Me Through," which deals with a dead-end relationship and the mistaken assumption that getting drunk in the titular city would be a balm against the pain. And the nasty, brutist, and short hardcore-adjacent "MainStage"? "It's about being disrespected at a show on New Year's and how I lashed out," Riley says. "I then began to take it out on other people, which was a quality that I despise."Things get contemplative and mournful from here on out _ the emo-edged "Snare" is about bringing flowers to a hospital room where you're not welcome, while the Smiths-inspired "Uno" wrestles with self-loathing. "I guess the big finale of that song was my response to dealing with this recurring experience of feeling like I wasn't good enough by getting really into whippets," Riley says. Nu-metal bop "Bonehead," then, recalls an embarrassing dinner that turned into an argument _ the name applies both to that incident and the delicious simplicity of the guitar parts.After all that turmoil and pain, the band caps everything off with their eyes to the future on the jangle-pop "Ring Size." "All my friends are getting married _ do I follow in their footsteps? Or is it all a waste of time?" Riley says of the song. "At the end, through it all, I guess that's what I've been trying to figure out _ how to grow up, how to move on. I'm trying to navigate things as an adult and I'm not very good at it. But this is just the first record. This is just the beginning."And, hey, at least now he has a bed.

Process of Elimination explores sickness as a teacher for anti-capitalist modes of being; a rewilding of the self. The product of an attempt to be indestructible, this sickness has an unknown diagnosis. The only route to determine the indeterminable is via a process of elimination. Eliminate the noise so it may quieten and make space for listening to what whispers underneath, allowing a return to the present moment. Slowness and queerness as technologies, questions as answers and mysticism as a path to healing when science alone does not suffice.

London-based multidisciplinary artist El Hardwick’s sophomore album follows their experience of becoming chronically ill after years of treating their body like a machine. El explains: “After failing to receive a diagnosis, which is only given via a lengthy process of elimination, I instead turned to autonomous modes of healing rooted in mysticism and herbalism; putting aside the need to be defined. My journey towards accepting my disability is told in parallel to my coming-out as trans. I also see my non-binary identity as a process of elimination: I am neither gender, both, in-between. It is through rewilding myself from capitalism and gender normativity that I learn how to connect to my body and the earth; no longer allowing either’s energy to be extracted from. The less I sought answers, language, metrics and analysis, the more peace I found.”

Russell / Guns marks the beginning of a fresh artistic partnership between legendary figures of Los Angeles Hard Rock: Jack Russell and Tracii Guns, accompanied by Johnny Martin, Shane Fitzgibbon and Alexxandro del Vecchio. For Jack Russell, this represents a long-awaited return to recording and new music, coming seven years after the release of "He Saw It Coming". Tracii Guns is a legend in his own right. He founded LA Guns in 1983, laying the foundation for one of the true giants of rock: Guns N' Roses.

After departing the band and reuniting with former Girl lead vocalist Phil Lewis to reform LA Guns, he signed with Vertigo Records and released 14 studio albums with the band. Jack and Tracii discovered a common thread in a collection of songs that draw from the bluesy power and heavy energy of their most celebrated material and roots, yet infused with a fresh, energetic drive and modern metallic production."Medusa" is an album that showcases the artistic integrity and commitment to Rock 'n' Roll from two extraordinary rock stars of the 80s and 90s.

The Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam Woldemariam at the creative helm, provided the musical backbone for legends like Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, Mulatu Astatke, and Mahmoud Ahmed, including the iconic album Ere Mela Mela, shaping modern Ethiopian music as we know it today. This 1976 album (Ge’ez Year 1968) played a pivotal role in that legacy and has now resurfaced to set the record straight.

There’s a tendency to talk about the seventies as a golden age of Ethiopian music. There are good reasons for that, and just as good reasons against it. However, the notion of a golden past privileges the role of Western explorers and suggests that the pinnacle of Ethiopia’s musical culture is something only a foreigner can appreciate and unearth. It downplays the complexities of Ethiopia’s culture and history, creating an artificial divide between then and now. And it underestimates the constantly evolving sound that has followed.

The legendary musical outfit The Ibex Band, later metamorphosed into The Roha Band, has played a central role in defining the sound of many of the greatest stars on the music scene of Ethiopia from the mid-seventies onwards–but their golden output has never really waned. The story of the origins of the band that provided the musical backbone for greats such as Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, backing the solo career of group member Mahmoud Ahmed as well as backing Mulatu Astatke and many others has yet to be properly told.

Two misconceptions plague the image of Ethiopian music, one is that the music is pure because it is, by some notion, unexploited, the other is that it is all traditional. To begin with, a combination of political changes between the late sixties and the mid-nineties created an environment where only the most dedicated and skilled musicians struggled on and pursued a musical career against fierce odds. The whole Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam “Selamino” Seyoum Woldermarian at the creative helm, are arguably the origo of the vibrant scene in the mid-seventies, and the said pair are foremost responsible for not only navigating the band through troubled times, but also modernizing the 6/8 chickchicka rhythm to a contemporary form. Giovanni laid the rhythmic foundation with heavy looped basslines that reinvented traditional melodies as dance music, and with Selamino’s innovative guitar work they influenced scores of musicians from Abegaz Kibrework Shiota to Henock Temesgen. Even Giovanni’s Fender bass and Selamino’s Gibson guitar inspired younger musicians in their choice of instruments. Not only in choice of instruments but also in sound–even as the digital revolution hit Ethiopian music, a lot of popular music still took its cue from the masters from Ibex and Roha.

Ibex emerged out of the ashes of the sixties group the Soul Echos band, adding Giovanni and Selamino to their ranks and taking their cues from a slew of influences, such as Motown and The Beatles, fused with traditional music. A tighter-knit unit than most bands at the time – Ibex has remained six to seven members throughout their whole career, compared to many bands that were as large as fifteen or sixteen men strong when Ibex set out. Their playing has been viciously focused, economical yet heavy. Just a year before the recording sessions of the album in your hands, Giovanni and Selamino made a contribution to the popular musical lexicon of Ethiopia that was simply defining the popular sound: their arrangement and recording of bandmate Mahmoud Ahmed’s solo effort and real commercial breakthrough tune and eponymous album, Ere Mela Mela, from 1975.

Selamino has never limited himself to being an adroit lead guitarist, but has always been a scholar of history, and as such he has probably contributed as much to modern Ethiopian music with his guitar playing and compositions as with a deepened understanding of modern or contemporary – Zemenawi – Ethiopian music. Selamino’s contributions serve as a metaphor for those of the whole band, at one and the same time creating and defining a new, danceable and updated sound anchored in Giovanni’s bass, whilst also elevating the broader scene through their support for others on the scene and on top of that, increasing the understanding of the music.

There is an understandable desire to romanticize the musical heyday Ibex and Roha were at the forefront of, because so much of the output is sorrowfully hard to come by. Ibex creativity was nothing short of ridiculously fierce compared to many of their Western contemporaries. Based on their sheer recorded output alone they could have usurped the title “hardest working in show business” from James Brown, recording more than 250 albums or 2500 songs in the seventies and eighties. Some only surface as cassettes today, others were never given full LP release, and some are simply impossible to find today. In the light of that, it’s nothing short of a miracle that the recording Stereo Instrumental Music from 1976 (Ge’ez Year 1968) has resurfaced. Unearthed in perfect condition on a chrome cassette, this is musical history comes alive–to set the future straight. Stereo Instrumental Music was recorded in collaboration with Karl-Gustav Lundgren, a Swedish national working for the Radio Voice of the Gospel. It took two sessions at the Ras Hotel ballroom in Addis Ababa. The Ibex Band was the first band in Ethiopia to employ a four-track recorder for their recording (the first available in the country, lent by Karl-Gustav). Later the same week, Giovanni and Selamino realized that, lengthwise, the recorded material fell short of what they wished for, so they recorded four more tracks in one more session on a single-track recorder. The Ras Hotel and Ghion Hotel, where the Ibex Band held musical residencies were to Ethiopia in general and Addis Ababa in particular what Motown was to the USA and Detroit a few years earlier – a hotbed of musical creativity and showmanship.

The most astonishing thing about Ethiopian music of the last half century is how tradition and modernity are intertwined. Because of this feature, it’s kind of hard to tell when there ever was or when we are in a “golden age”. So much of music from the past has been criminally neglected, but because of the hardships in the past, it would be an oversimplification to say that said past was a golden age. Probably, the golden age is what we are approaching, because for the first time both the past and future are accessible, and the monumental contributions from before can lay a firm foundation for a thriving music scene today. The Ibex Band stands firmly in the past, present and the future. That, if anything, is golden.

The detailed history of Stereo Instrumental Music is in many ways unique. To begin with, it couldn’t have been recorded earlier (there were no four-track recorders available) and it really couldn’t have been recorded afterwards either, at least not in the years directly following, because of the toll the musical scene took from the unfavorable political climate that followed when the nascent Derg regime and rival groups tried to assert themselves, the musical equipment lent from The Voice of Gospel Radio simply disappeared from Ethiopia when the radio station folded in 1977. Karl-Gustav Lundgren,
the Swedish foreign national who assisted during the recording, worked with the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesus at the time, recalls how they only had about fifteen minutes to get the microphones in place for the recording as to not alert neither the management at Ras Hotel nor the authorities and most importantly, to complete the recording before the curfew came into effect at midnight. In leaping to the opportunity to use previously unavailable equipment to push their sound forward and improvising to meet the logistical challenges, the Ibex Band displayed the very avant-gardism and adaptability that explains their longevity as a band through the years. The recording of Stereo Instrumental Music is from a given time in history, but it sounds as beyond time.
Much of the energy that burst out of the scene that Stereo Instrumental Music came out of dissipated or got sidetracked during the societal changes Ethiopia went through in the 1970s and 80s. Whilst leaders might have professed to be revolutionary, the work ethic of the Ibex Band can truly be described as that. They never called it quits, but adapted, toured extensively abroad in Africa, Europe, and the Middle East, and found ways to work even in the face of the curfew that curtailed a lot of musical life. They even played major arenas in the nineteen eighties, despite said curfew and restrictions. The whole extent of their legacy has never been told, but their music speaks louder than words, so therefore… tune in to the Ibex Band’s Stereo Instrumental Music.

Rival Schools's Found is a collection of rarities, demos and alternate takes of songs collected in the years following the release of their 2001 debut United By Fate. Initialy released over ten years ago, the band has teamed up with Run For Cover Records for a limited reissue to release alongside the reissue of their 2011 album Pedals. Found features eleven songs that show the range of sounds the band tinkered with in the ten years between these albums - it's a must have for any fan of the band, available again on limited color vinyl.Rival Schools started as the once-new project of vocalist/guitarist Walter Schreifels, who as a member of Youth of Today, Gorilla Biscuits and Quicksand routinely reinvented the sound of hardcore. In Rival Schools he was joined by bandmates Ian Love, Cache Tolman and Sammy Siegler, whose other projects at the time include Iceburn, CIV and Glassjaw.

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.

In the spring of 1983, members of Genesis reconvened at their studio, named The Farm in Chiddingfold, Surrey, to start work on a new studio album, their first since Abacab (1981). Genesis became their first album written, recorded, and mixed in its entirety at the studio room; previously they had to write in an adjoining space. Having the group work in their own space without the additional pressure of booking studio time and fees resulted in a more relaxed environment. They were joined by engineer Hugh Padgham, who had also worked on Abacab,

AllMusic writes: "Moments of Genesis are as spooky and arty as those on Abacab — in particular, there's the tortured howl of "Mama," uncannily reminiscent of Phil Collins' Face Value, and the two-part 'Second Home by the Sea' — but this eponymous 1983 album is indeed a rebirth, as so many self-titled albums delivered in the thick of a band's career often are. ... Anybody who paid attention to 'Misunderstanding' and 'No Reply at All' could tell that this was a good pop band, primarily thanks to the rapidly escalating confidence of Phil Collins, but Genesis illustrates just how good they could be, by balancing such sleek, pulsating pop tunes as 'That's All' with a newfound touch for aching ballads, as on 'Taking It All Too Hard.'" AllMusic reviewer Stephen Thomas Erlewine gives the album 4.5 Stars.

For fans who appreciate the evolution of the band's music over the years, owning this album is important as it represents a distinctive phase in their career.

This is the definitive deluxe 45 RPM 2LP Analogue Productions (Atlantic 75 Series) reissue of the classic Genesis. A classic for all true Genesis fans!

Man-of-the-minute Jorg Kuning returns to Facta & K-LONE’s Wisdom Teeth imprint with ‘Elvers Pass’: a new 6-track exposition of his singular sound, and his most accomplished and comprehensive work to date. By now, the Jorg Kuning trademark is well established. Cherrypicking influences from the wiggiest ends of tech house, electro and bass music, his music is instantly set apart by his totally unique sound palette.

In fact, it’s hard to think of another club artist who has emerged with such a distinct and recognisable voice in recent years. Bubbling and funky with that unmistakable dose of wonk, you can tell a Jorg Kuning tune the minute it enters the mix. Since last appearing on Wisdom Teeth with 2022’s ‘Chosta-del-sol’ EP, the Welshpool-based artist has become a cult name on the global club and festival circuit - his must-see live set turning heads wherever he pitches up. Anybody who frequents the summer circuits around Freerotation, Love International, Gottwood and Dimensions will know exactly what we’re talking about. Along the way he has picked up a number of ardent and outspoken fans, including Lukas Wigflex and Koreless - the latter of whom tapped Jorg for a stellar remix on last year’s ‘Deceltica’ EP on Young. On ‘Elvers Pass’, Jorg manages to ring an exceptionally rich diversity of life from the circuitry of his modular machines.

The record’s melodies flutter and swirl like deep-sea creatures, and his synths ooze as if dredged from some primordial swamp. More so than ever, a host of otherworldly voices have begun to creep into his music: ‘Mercedes’ centres around a fluttering chorus of disembodied vocal chops, while ‘Synthetic Squashies’ rocks back and forth on a looping dialog between two AI chatbots. Across the record, synths mimic animal vocal tones, from the belching bass licks on ‘Skudde’ to the amphibious synth groans on ‘Teen Frogue’. Playful, oddball and in a class of its own, ‘Elvers Pass’ is a welcome New Year offering for ravers and club adventurers worldwide.

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.

From the deepest trenches of deadstock 45s and the unsung annals of soft rock infamy, we present SR4HT02: (Till You're) Back In My Arms.

Universal Cave and the Street Road Band cover Dan Strimer with Insured Sound's cult anthem (Till You're) Back In My Arms which was originally released as a 45 in 1977 on Lost Nation Records out of Guysville, Ohio. When Universal Cave featured Back in My Arms on Soft Rock for Hard Times Vol 8 in 2023, we reached out to Dan Strimer to tell him how much we loved his record, and quickly made a friend who helped us release a cover of his song 47 years after it first came out. Dan is still making music to this day and there are even rumors of some unreleased recordings making their way out in the near future.

On vacation in Hawaii when we released Soft Rock for Hard Times Vol 8, Alex Tebbs Mitchell of Universal Cave kept coming back to Dan's catchy, rural classic rock tune. When Alex returned to Philadelphia, he assembled the Street Road Band to record a laid back, 'southwestern Balearic' cover version with André Ethier on vocals, Charles Simon on guitar, Jesse Spearhawk on Pedal Steel, Alex Tebbs Mitchell on Rhodes and bass, Ryan M. Todd on synthesizers, and Shawn Ryan and Brian Cassidy on additional programming and arrangement. The result is a blissful soft rock ballad inspired by the likes of Chris Rea and Mark Knopfler.

After recording the cover, we called in the UK's finest Balearic maestro's Coyote to take the multitracks to the White Isle and back for a remix worthy of Cafe Del Mar. Coyote send the song into a dreamy, dubby, deep house groove, confirming that the record is, in fact, Balearic.

Mixed by Alex Tebbs Mitchell
Mastered by Mat Leffler-Schulman

Muireann Bradley is a young blues, ragtime, roots and folk guitarist and singer based in Ballybofey in County Donegal Ireland. “This is my first album. Most of these tunes were originally recorded by the great blues men and women who were making records from the 1920s and 1930s right up in some cases to the early 1970s. I have also found inspiration for the renditions recorded here in the playing of some of the musicians who began recording this music in the 1960s and later, and who in some cases learned at the feet of the greats. Many of these guitarists played pivotal roles in the 1960s blues revival and subsequent “rediscovery” of many of the greats of country blues. I grew up steeped in these old blues in the hills overlooking the valley of the River Finn just outside the town of Ballybofey in County Donegal. My father would play this music constantly at home and wherever we went in the car and talk about it endlessly whether anyone was listening or not, telling stories about the lives of these musicians as if they were legend, mythology or the evening news. My father could of course play all this stuff on guitar, I remember watching him when I was very young and thinking “I want to be able to do that”. When I was nine he agreed to teach me and bought me my first little travel guitar. I worked hard to learn how to play but as time wore on I seemed to have less and less time to practice as I became more and more invested in the combat sports I was regularly training and competing in. Then in March 2020 the first Covid lockdowns happened and all contact sports were shut down. I was lost for a while but soon found my way back to the guitar. I was now listening, playing and practicing with a new intensity and focus. In a very serious moment, I wrote out a list of tunes I was going to learn. The first tune on that list was Blind Blake’s “Police Dog Blues”. I’m not sure now how long it took to get that arrangement together but when it was ready we videoed me performing it and posted it on YouTube. It ended up getting a lot of attention, I remember my parents being quite shocked and soon after that Josh Rosenthal got in touch… and here we are! Each individual track on this album was recorded live in the studio and represents one entire take with me singing and backing myself up on guitar simultaneously. Most are either first or second takes. Nothing has been added or taken away, no overdubs or modern recording tricks of any kind have been used at all so at least in some respects this album has been recorded in the same way as those classics of the 1920s and 1930s

Anxious’ second album Bambi arrives this winter on Run For Cover Records. It’s been a whirlwind few years for the Fairfield, Connecticut five-piece – since the release of their debut album Little Green House, there’s been little time for anything other than consistent touring with bands like Hot Mulligan, One Step Closer and The Wonder Years. Somewhere during that endless grind, vocalist Grady Allen was sitting in a hotel room and stumbled upon a name typed into a long-forgotten memo on his phone: Bambi. “We should have named the band Bambi,” he recalls admitting to his bandmates. Bambi stuck with the band after that night and eventually it evolved from a “what-if” into the name of Anxious’ second full-length album.

Bambi is a record of remarkable growth, depth, ambition, and energy. It takes all the unsolvable and unavoidable problems of exiting adolescence and makes them resonate in urgent and authentic new ways. The album has deep roots in the storied lineage of Northeast tri-state hardcore and emo, but it also fully embraces the widescreen alternative rock songwriting at which Anxious have previously only hinted. It’s a statement of purpose, the kind of album that comes from a band reconciling where they’ve been with where they want to go. Bambi is the sound of Anxious putting everything on the line–and coming out on the other side better than ever.

Inspired by “big swing” records like Blink-182’s self-titled or Jimmy Eat World’s Clarity, Anxious set out to redefine the band without losing sight of what made them work in the first place. Tracks like “Head & Spine,” “Sunder,” and “Tell Me Why” showcase the scope of Anxious’ evolution, tapping crunchy ‘90s rock guitarwork, layered ‘60s-esque harmonies, and crisp, modern production that captures the unrivaled energy of seeing the band play live.

The record you have in your hands is the sound of dreams fulfilled, dashed, then fulfilled again.

Candy McKenzie, a young singer from North West London, had endured a hard life before she flew to Jamaica in pursuit of a dream that she didn’t fully understand.

Candy McKenzie was a young talent in need of an experienced producer. Who better than Lee Perry, who had created international hits for another raw female talent, Susan Cadogan, not to

mention his brilliant work with Max Romeo, Junior Murvin and the Heptones? All the magic of Perry’s classics are here. Candy sadly passed away in 2003,

and it might appear she was an unfulfilled talent, but she and Lee Perry left us this beautiful hidden gem of an album.

The album is available as a limited numbered edition of 750 copies on orange coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

DOVS are the duo of Vienna’s Johannes Auvinen, aka Tin Man, and Mexico City’s Gabo Barranco, aka AAAA. Psychic Geography is their second album together, but it differs considerably from both their respective solo work and their 2019 debut LP together, Silent Cities: Where that album’s hardware-based acid kept its gaze focused squarely on the dancefloor, Psychic Geography is a strictly ambient affair.

The album has its roots in a trio of beatless tracks that peppered Silent Cities; this time, the duo decided to try making an entire album with no drums. “It opened up the chance to make a different, more narrative style of music with more complex structures,” Auvinen says. Ambiguity and uncertainty are key watchwords for their music, which moves with eerie, liquid grace. Untethered from 4/4 kicks, their music drifts and morphs; familiar acid sequences give way to surprising shifts in tone and mood. And with no drums to distract the ear, the seeming simplicity of their silvery synth lines opens up to reveal remarkable depth and dynamism.

Barranco and Auvinen recorded the album together in the studio utilizing machines like the Roland TB-303, Juno G, Prophet 5, Elektron Octatrack MKII, Make Noise DPO and René, Mutable Clouds, Roland SH-101, Behringer TD3, and Sherman Filterbank. Listen on good speakers or headphones, and you can tell: Their gear yields a tonal richness that recalls the ambient and cosmic music of decades earlier. You can practically feel the heat from their circuits warming the air.

The meaning behind the name DOVS is as ambiguous as the duo’s music. (Dig, if you will, the picture of Picasso’s dove of peace—or, perhaps, the outline of a bird pressed into a small white pill.) But Psychic Geography needs little explanation. DOVS’ album is a collection of mental maps of imaginary places. Set your coordinates for the mirage on the horizon and prepare to dissolve.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

Vinyl Only / Sleeve manufactured with 400 mcn Fedrigoni "Shiro Eco" paper / Original unreleased poster with alternative artwork insert with notes by Tony Higgins printed on schedography peach past color paper / PVC outers / original artwork /

Personnel:
Tete Mbambisa - Piano
Basil Coetzee - Tenor Sax and Flute
Zulu Bidi - Bass
Monty Weber - Drums

Notes:
Mbambisa first gained prominence as a pianist in 1961 as a member of the Jazz Giants, this time with Pukwana as saxophonist, bassist Martin Mgijima and drummer Makaya Mtoshoko, setting the sound and shape of a scene that became known as Cape Jazz. Following an introduction from Chris McGregor, Mbambisa formed a band, The Swinging City Six, with saxophonist Ronnie Beer before going on to play at the end of the 1960s in the groups The Soul Jazzmen and Spirits Rejoice with Duku Makasi. As a member of The Soul Jazzmen, Mbambisa recorded the breakthrough album 'Inhlupenko Distress' in 1969 for the City Special label. After a recording hiatus, Mbambisa returned in 1974 with an octet album, 'Tete's Big Sound' released on a newly formed label, As Shams or The Sun, established by South African record store owner and independent producer Rashid Vally. 'Tet's Big Sound' included tracks like 'Unity' and the 'Black Heroes Lamentation', now considered a classic in the South African jazz underground.

The sound that Mbambisa carved in this period was wholly acoustic, and is a style that now is often loosely labelled spiritual jazz, a sound that alludes to deep African textures and rhythms balanced with clear nods to American hard bop and modal jazz, sometimes edging toward free improvisation in echoes of John Coltrane and Pharaoh Sanders. The music is often centred around a fulcrum of trance like vamps with repeated motifs that allow for extended pieces that create a hypnotic effect. This clearly exemplified on Mbambisa's next album, 'Did You Tell Your Mother', released in 1979, once more for The Sun label. (Tony Higgins)

The hornsman instrumental has a long legacy in the realms of reggae music. Don Drummond, Tommy McCook, Vin Gordon, Rico Rodriguez, Eddie Tan Tan. The list players behind this tradition could go on and on. The notes they played across eras from ska to rock steady to the deepest dubwise steppers bellow through the wind and the wire like a Warrior Charge ….

…It is within this tradition that Ital Counselor’s next weighty contribution to the musical world of QUALITY reggae fits…

…From the very first sonorous note emanating from the mighty Soothsayer’s Horn Section the listener can tell the Dub Organiser means business. That’s right. Once again, the Ital Counselor teams up with Chris Lane of Fashion Records for a cantankerous churning steppers meant to burn out all weak heart sound who try come test.

As evidenced from this 12”s namesake, the humble Soul Dragon Temple of Tone Sound System and IC partners in crime out of Philadelphia, USA, the Soul Dragon Anthem breaths some serious fire. The hard hard rhythm churns relentlessly while the bassline rolls like Dragon’s breath calling all in the dance to spring heel skank straight through all four cuts.

The Dub Organiser stirs a cauldron of dense dub at points conjuring aspects of Lee Perry’s classic Black Ark sound while maintaining his own distinctive spin on the mystical mixing arts. Shards of sound echo and delay. Mr. Lane takes the bassline to aquatic depths as the DRAGON DIVES DEEP……Cut 1…Cut 2…Cut 3…Cut 4…

This one is dedicated to all home town hi-fi’s forwarding reggae and sound system culture outernationally. So without further ado, all soundman and woman worth your salt it is time to DROP the needle on this track. Watch the Dragon FLY and let the Dub Organiser and the Soothsayer Horn’s “Soul Dragon Anthem” BREATH FIRE through your SPEAKER BOX!!!!!!

In 1964, Big City Blues dropped, and John Hammond delivered the goods. With his raspy voice and guitar, he gave a fresh spin to classics by legends like Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon. No big band needed—just him and his raw feeling to capture the soul of Delta blues. But he added an urban edge that fit perfectly with the times. Simple, powerful, and incredibly authentic. This record is pure blues that hits hard and sticks with you.

Nesa Azadikhah returns on Kulture Galerie with a 4 track EP on Filippo MSM’s cassette tape sub-label Digital Artefacts.

With “My Life” Nesa tells a personal story of influences and inspirations split in 4 parts / tracks. Each of the tracks is in fact named after who matters the most to the artist: her 2 dogs, her life partner and herself. Sonically the EP is a unique blend of music that Nesa loves and its hard to not fall in love with. The A side is very UK tinged Techno whilst the B side includes a slow chuggy Dark Disco track and a super trippy dub cut. Fall in love with Nesa's life.

Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music Vol. 1 is a studio album by American singer and pianist Ray Charles. It was recorded in February 1962 at Capitol Studios in New York City. It featured country, folk, and Western music standards reworked by Charles in popular song forms of the time, including R&B, pop, and jazz. Charles produced the album with Sid Feller and performed alongside saxophonist Hank Crawford, a string section conducted by Marty Paich, and a big band arranged by Gil Fuller and Gerald Wilson. Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music Vol. 2 features one side performed by the Ray Charles Big Band with the Raelettes, while the other side features a string section and the Jack Halloran Singers. Including "I Can't Stop Loving You", Bye Bye Love", "Half As Much", "You Win Again", "Careless Love", “You Are My Sunshine” and many more.

Das sechste Studioalbum der schottischen Band Franz Ferdinand!

In The Human Fear geht es um das Menschsein und die Ängste, die uns dazu machen, aber man hätte es auch kühn nennen können. Kühn auf eine Art, wie wir es gerne sind. Es ist ihr sechstes Album, das sie mit dem Produzenten Mark Ralph hauptsächlich in Schottland aufgenommen haben, mit ein paar Overdubs in London und Paris. Bob Hardy und Alex Kapranos gründeten die Band 2002, Julian Corrie und Dino Bardot kamen 2016 dazu und Audrey Tait 2021. Dies ist die erste vollständige LP mit Dino und Audrey, obwohl sie auf den letzten Singles mitgewirkt haben und mit der Band ausgiebig getourt sind. Unsere Ängste definieren unsere Menschlichkeit. Wir finden unseren Charakter und unsere Persönlichkeit, wenn wir unsere Reaktion auf sie verstehen. Was sie auslöst. Es ist nicht unbedingt die Angst selbst, die uns menschlich macht, sondern das, was wir mit ihr machen oder was wir zulassen, dass sie mit uns macht. Was wir nicht wählen können und was wir können. Unsere Ängste sagen uns, wie wir menschlich sind. Jeder Song hängt an einer anderen Angst. Es geht darum, in den Abgrund zu blicken und dann zu sagen:
"Scheiß drauf... ich kann genauso gut noch einen trinken, bevor ich hineinfalle." Es gibt klangliche Überraschungen und verschiedene Perspektiven auf dem Album, aber wenn man die Band kennt, weiß man, dass sie es gemacht hat. Die es genossen haben, es zu machen. OK, einige der Themen können ein wenig düsterer werden, aber es gab Licht und Freude beim Zusammenstellen.
Das Album beginnt mit dem Track "Audacious" der als Vorabsingle den Ton für das Album angibt. Die zweite Single, die im November erscheinen wird, ist "Night Or Da"y, die sowohl in den Texten als auch in der Musik die Spannung zwischen Angst und Spaß darstellt. Das klangvolle Synthie-Stück "Hooked" zeigt eine andere Seite des Albums und wird unser Fokus-Track bei der Veröffentlichung sein. Das Album wird Mitte September zusammen mit einer Reihe von Live-Terminen in Großbritannien und Europa angekündigt und am 10. Januar 2025 veröffentlicht. Die Band wird außerdem im Oktober und November für Live-Shows nach Mexiko und Südamerika reisen.

Das sechste Studioalbum der schottischen Band Franz Ferdinand!

In The Human Fear geht es um das Menschsein und die Ängste, die uns dazu machen, aber man hätte es auch kühn nennen können. Kühn auf eine Art, wie wir es gerne sind. Es ist ihr sechstes Album, das sie mit dem Produzenten Mark Ralph hauptsächlich in Schottland aufgenommen haben, mit ein paar Overdubs in London und Paris. Bob Hardy und Alex Kapranos gründeten die Band 2002, Julian Corrie und Dino Bardot kamen 2016 dazu und Audrey Tait 2021. Dies ist die erste vollständige LP mit Dino und Audrey, obwohl sie auf den letzten Singles mitgewirkt haben und mit der Band ausgiebig getourt sind. Unsere Ängste definieren unsere Menschlichkeit. Wir finden unseren Charakter und unsere Persönlichkeit, wenn wir unsere Reaktion auf sie verstehen. Was sie auslöst. Es ist nicht unbedingt die Angst selbst, die uns menschlich macht, sondern das, was wir mit ihr machen oder was wir zulassen, dass sie mit uns macht. Was wir nicht wählen können und was wir können. Unsere Ängste sagen uns, wie wir menschlich sind. Jeder Song hängt an einer anderen Angst. Es geht darum, in den Abgrund zu blicken und dann zu sagen:
"Scheiß drauf... ich kann genauso gut noch einen trinken, bevor ich hineinfalle." Es gibt klangliche Überraschungen und verschiedene Perspektiven auf dem Album, aber wenn man die Band kennt, weiß man, dass sie es gemacht hat. Die es genossen haben, es zu machen. OK, einige der Themen können ein wenig düsterer werden, aber es gab Licht und Freude beim Zusammenstellen.
Das Album beginnt mit dem Track "Audacious" der als Vorabsingle den Ton für das Album angibt. Die zweite Single, die im November erscheinen wird, ist "Night Or Da"y, die sowohl in den Texten als auch in der Musik die Spannung zwischen Angst und Spaß darstellt. Das klangvolle Synthie-Stück "Hooked" zeigt eine andere Seite des Albums und wird unser Fokus-Track bei der Veröffentlichung sein. Das Album wird Mitte September zusammen mit einer Reihe von Live-Terminen in Großbritannien und Europa angekündigt und am 10. Januar 2025 veröffentlicht. Die Band wird außerdem im Oktober und November für Live-Shows nach Mexiko und Südamerika reisen.

“My introduction to “noise” came from a record shop in Lake Worth, Florida ran by a musician named Kenny 5. Kenny had left Detroit sometime in the mid nineties and had begun selling used records and CD’s from the downtown strip of this tiny southern Florida city in a humble shop sandwiched between a deli and a dog grooming business. Kenny previously was on labels like Amphetamine Reptile and timeSTEREO, and the records and videotapes that would be on repeat at his shop were a vast sonic expanse that spoke to the eclecticism of his experience as a touring musician participating and adjacent to American noise culture through the early to late 90’s. In 1998, I was eleven years old and I would order a pizza with him and watch VHS tapes of Japanese noise and deathmatch bootlegs, as well as any other sonic and subcultural rarities that far outstripped my age to comprehend (notably the RRR “Journey Into Pain” compilation and various Vanilla Tapes videos). This widecast net of information formed an introduction to a reality that did not fall deaf on me, but it took many years later for me to reorient the specific freedoms of what this dense and cathartic sound culture had imparted on my life and would continue onward to.

What does this have to do with this selection of choice recordings from the Secret Boyfriend catalog for the enmossed label? For the uninitiated, Secret Boyfriend is the long running moniker of Ryan Martin, North Carolina musician and label proprietor of the Hot Releases imprint. For over a decade from this writing I have watched Secret Boyfriend, and Hot Releases by extension as a curatorial and archival effort, embodying the multiplanal capacity that noise loosely functions from as an umbrella ideology and formalist avenue for sound creation. For anecdotal purposes, from (before) 2006 until roughly 2023 the East Coast of the United States showcased a vibrant network of eclectic regional festivals that saw wide swaths of artists addressing and negotiating the notion of what qualified “noise” from a conceptual and ideological perspective. Some festivals honed in on particularities in aesthetics and tropes, and others had a kind of “catch-all” implementation that allowed for a salvation of the sort of alienated and singular artistry that was amassing throughout these territories. While clear guidelines had been set from regional predecessors as to how noise with a capital “N” should maneuver, Secret Boyfriend is emblematic in the spirit of fluidity that was either implicitly coupled to the notion of the genre, or grew to evolve towards or devolve from.

Within Secret Boyfriend performances, I have seen and admired a mirroring from a ravenous appreciator of this culture at large back towards itself. Typical of a Secret Boyfriend set is an interchangeable narrative arc wherein blistering feedback laden scrap metal improvisations are forayed into naive ambient or “pop” songs, or skipping CDs, or mixer feedback play, or delayed Roland 707 drum workouts all at once and in a unique hegemony. Secret Boyfriend's stylistic mastery of each endeavor is at once an homage to a history of loving listening and enacting, while a brave step into the realm of actualizing the unique fluidity of his own practice. In performance and the action of network engagement, Secret Boyfriend operates a survey of that which he sought to hear and that which he cultivates around his work. His operations are mirrors, and the project (alongside his other peers) is a reflection on the ethos of his time.

Conversely his recording practice narrows in on these moments and allows for a different kind of intimacy or alienation for the non live listener. This record of selected “pop songs” (let's call them that) is particularly poignant at a time when the culture Martin mirrors is at a strange crossroads with itself. The aforementioned festival networks necessarily change and shift. The onlookers become the artists, the artists find new horizons, and the spaces for these cycles fade into locales of a distant memory. It seems, from my perspective, that audiences currently yearn for a more bottlenecked experience, searching for some ontologically vetted manifestation of an idea, of a sound and less for an experience that functions in opposition to our collective banalities. This makes sense in the face of general global catastrophism that plagues us. We need certainty of what something is somewhere, don’t we? Noise as an idea has expanded and contracted to so many iterations of itself it is hard to tell what it even is, and it is particularly difficult to identify in the absence of solid network activations a moment to reflect on its own complexities and nuances. In the face of so much change, I argue that the language of noise culture at large has on one hand become increasingly didactic and predictable, and laughably inclusive and non linear on the other. Probably has always been this way, but now we are in the midst of a moment of extreme access and indexicality, which somehow cauterizes expansion and naivety and chance.

This record highlights the Secret Boyfriend that obscures didacticism by highlighting output that opens up for more challenging catharsis and emotive signal processing. It provides an entry to the materialism of a cultural field full of ecstatic complexity and beautiful inconsistency. In these muted moments Secret Boyfriend has given us over his career we have an argument for evolving languages that further challenge our notions of what is supposed to happen and how it is supposed to be presented. In his more song oriented expansiveness, we can punctuate the ability to think in new modalities. Listening to these recordings reminds me of the polarity of sitting in the record store as a kid and understanding that His Name Is Alive is on 4AD and (gasp!) timeSTEREO. This trite early impression that nothing is really as different as our imaginations might want them to be, and that we can do whatever we want mostly within the creative realms we work through is an important filter to look through Secret Boyfriend as a project and a vessel. If we can achieve abandon and vulnerability through our artistic endeavors, then we have a sound model for, maybe, new potentialities. If that’s too much projection, or just complete liberal bullshit, I am fine with that. Secret Boyfriend's oeuvre at best offers us moments of reprieve to ponder these complexities, or at least a moment to zone out on a drive through North Carolina Highway 54.

You have one pocket of life that you must do whatever you want to inside of. Secret Boyfriend does it affectionately, in a variety of forms, and always with deep sentimentality. These recordings are a wonderful set of songs to begin further investigation from. Thank you Ryan for allowing as many avenues as possible to continue a broad cultural exchange and conversation that intersect and refract while being the kind of artist that is brave enough to not phone in the effort.”

- Nick Klein , May 2024

"On The Grove" is an ambitious and passionate collaboration project, it features musicians spanning seven decades, including Jamaican legends: Ernest Ranglin, Ken Boothe, Earl 16 and Devon Russell; alongside contemporary artists, including jazz trumpeter Ms. Maurice (known for her work with Afro—Jazz Ensemble Kokoroko and Nubya Garcia), and vocalist Alexia Coley.

From a club-friendly chrysalid onto deploying his wings as a full fledged pop artist in recent years, Saint Petersburgs Kito Jempere has enjoyed a journey unlike any other and his newest album, Part Time Chaos Part Time Calmness live-documents the chameleonic changes / game-changing paradox experienced this year between his life both as a musician and as a family man.

Better known for his work as a house producer which has earned him accolades from prominent dance music outlets throughout well over a decade of intense work both into and outwith the limelights, Kito has for all that never been focussed on writing solely discoid material, throwing as much effort over the years into multi-faceted parallel ventures, far and apart from strictly dance floor-oriented functionality. Yet, from this partition between various projects and mindsets, this is through a radical shift towards downtempo pop and out of the 4x4 loop that Kito got to fully assert himself as a musician, embracing the rejoicing variety of tone and mood of his tender loves, secret and not. The movie Ive never made but have the soundtrack for, Part Time Chaos Part Time Calmness is the fruit of change as much as change itself. A return to the simple means of his young self, his old trusty guitar from his late teens serving as the backbone to Killer Line and Love Myself But I Cant Make It Love, and the natural development to last years Green Monster, which
initiated these deep tectonic movements in Kitos approach to his art, PTCPTC is an intimate trip down the kaleidoscope of his present life. Joined up by an impressive cast of artists, including Jimi Tenor, Adam Evald and Hard Ton, Kito didnt just bin his old persona, he took it back to where it belongs. From the low-slung emotional folk of the opener, Killer Line, to the eerie flamenco-jazz hybrid Before Music Dies. via the broken soulfulness of Put Love Into Your Heart and anthemic 80s balearic breaks meets coastal synthwave vibe of Sounds of Love, the album pulsates with a refreshingly genre-unbound vision. To the naive, laid-back sonic bokeh of Footsteps,
succeeds the left-of-centre cinematic narrative of In The Countryside, which includes some fun nods to fictional brands taken from Tarantinos imaginarium (Red Apple cigarettes) or other movies like High Fidelity, after Nick Hornbys eponymous novel.

Freed from gridlocked programming and impersonal tropes, PTCPTC showcases a wide array of songs, beats, grooves old and new, some dating back to 2018 and improvised sessions with his 9-people Kito Jempere Band, all of which were finished within the same timeframe and with this all-inclusive momentum in mind. Through the epic synths of Absent Ascent. in revamping the universal classic Over The Rainbow with Celebrine, on the appeasing ballad Shorespotting feat. Evald or in the waves-ready closing cut Lovers, Jempere tells a tale of hard-earned emancipation and life-affirming freedom.

From a club-friendly chrysalid onto deploying his wings as a full fledged pop artist in recent years, Saint Petersburgs Kito Jempere has enjoyed a journey unlike any other and his newest album, Part Time Chaos Part Time Calmness live-documents the chameleonic changes / game-changing paradox experienced this year between his life both as a musician and as a family man.

Better known for his work as a house producer which has earned him accolades from prominent dance music outlets throughout well over a decade of intense work both into and outwith the limelights, Kito has for all that never been focussed on writing solely discoid material, throwing as much effort over the years into multi-faceted parallel ventures, far and apart from strictly dance floor-oriented functionality. Yet, from this partition between various projects and mindsets, this is through a radical shift towards downtempo pop and out of the 4x4 loop that Kito got to fully assert himself as a musician, embracing the rejoicing variety of tone and mood of his tender loves, secret and not. The movie Ive never made but have the soundtrack for, Part Time Chaos Part Time Calmness is the fruit of change as much as change itself. A return to the simple means of his young self, his old trusty guitar from his late teens serving as the backbone to Killer Line and Love Myself But I Cant Make It Love, and the natural development to last years Green Monster, which
initiated these deep tectonic movements in Kitos approach to his art, PTCPTC is an intimate trip down the kaleidoscope of his present life. Joined up by an impressive cast of artists, including Jimi Tenor, Adam Evald and Hard Ton, Kito didnt just bin his old persona, he took it back to where it belongs. From the low-slung emotional folk of the opener, Killer Line, to the eerie flamenco-jazz hybrid Before Music Dies. via the broken soulfulness of Put Love Into Your Heart and anthemic 80s balearic breaks meets coastal synthwave vibe of Sounds of Love, the album pulsates with a refreshingly genre-unbound vision. To the naive, laid-back sonic bokeh of Footsteps,
succeeds the left-of-centre cinematic narrative of In The Countryside, which includes some fun nods to fictional brands taken from Tarantinos imaginarium (Red Apple cigarettes) or other movies like High Fidelity, after Nick Hornbys eponymous novel.

Freed from gridlocked programming and impersonal tropes, PTCPTC showcases a wide array of songs, beats, grooves old and new, some dating back to 2018 and improvised sessions with his 9-people Kito Jempere Band, all of which were finished within the same timeframe and with this all-inclusive momentum in mind. Through the epic synths of Absent Ascent. in revamping the universal classic Over The Rainbow with Celebrine, on the appeasing ballad Shorespotting feat. Evald or in the waves-ready closing cut Lovers, Jempere tells a tale of hard-earned emancipation and life-affirming freedom.

Hip-hop legend Rakim is breaking new ground with his upcoming studio album, G.O.D.'S NETWORK (REB7RTH), by flexing his skills both on the mic and behind the boards. Widely lauded as the best lyricist of all time, The God MC himself is blessing the culture with the next step in his historic career.

“I feel like the battery in my back has been reenergized,” Rakim said about his new album, which arrives nearly four decades after the release of his classic debut with Eric B., Paid In Full. Since then, he’s continued to shape the landscape and culture of hip-hop as we know it, inspiring rising artists with his hype live shows and incredible studio albums. And while he’s produced some of his previous work—notably “Don’t Sweat the Technique,” “Juice (Know The Ledge),” and “Paid In Full”—this feels like new territory for the 18th Letter, whose production and scratching talents are nothing short of remarkable.

G.O.D.'S NETWORK (REB7RTH) is proof that Rakim is truly one of the most special artists we’ve known not just in hip-hop, but all of music. You can tell he feels that level of praise when speaking about the genesis of the album. “Having the ability to showcase my talents behind the boards coupled with the elite lyricism the world already knows and gives me infinite praise for alongside some of the best talents to ever do it is truly a blessing and for that I am humbled,” he said.

Rakim is more than an official triple-threat as an artist, because he’s also showing off skills as a curator. On this album’s seven tracks, he enlists a who’s-who of top hip-hop talent, including the dearly departed Nipsey Hussle, Fred the Godson, DMX, and Prodigy (of Mobb Deep). Rakim also linked with many of his contemporaries, such as Snoop Dogg, Method Man, KXNG Crooked, B.G., and Kool G. Rap, among others.

The album’s first single, “Be Ill,” is the perfect introduction, as it pairs Rakim’s raw rhymes and head-nodding production with slick guest features from Kurupt and Masta Killa. Elsewhere, Rakim slows it down for the soulful “Love Is The Message,” which features Nipsey Hussle, Planet Asia, Louis King, Snoop Dogg, Sally Green, Kobe Honeycutt, and the LA Grand Choir. And then there’s the chest-thumping “International,” a straight-up slapper with hard-hitting rhymes from Kool G. Rap, Tristate, and Joell Ortiz.

For fans of hip-hop, and especially of Rakim’s storied discography, there is so much to love on this record. You can hear his hunger as an emcee and producer on every track, as well as his desire to collaborate with so many respected artists. Despite having decades in the game and many classics to his name, it feels like Rakim is just getting started.

While the world awaits the July 26th release date, fans can catch Rakim performing live throughout the US from now until the end of year in support of G.O.D.S Network (REB7RTH). In addition to debuting new material, he’ll be performing all the classics from his beloved catalog.

Hip-hop legend Rakim is breaking new ground with his upcoming studio album, G.O.D.'S NETWORK (REB7RTH), by flexing his skills both on the mic and behind the boards. Widely lauded as the best lyricist of all time, The God MC himself is blessing the culture with the next step in his historic career.

“I feel like the battery in my back has been reenergized,” Rakim said about his new album, which arrives nearly four decades after the release of his classic debut with Eric B., Paid In Full. Since then, he’s continued to shape the landscape and culture of hip-hop as we know it, inspiring rising artists with his hype live shows and incredible studio albums. And while he’s produced some of his previous work—notably “Don’t Sweat the Technique,” “Juice (Know The Ledge),” and “Paid In Full”—this feels like new territory for the 18th Letter, whose production and scratching talents are nothing short of remarkable.

G.O.D.'S NETWORK (REB7RTH) is proof that Rakim is truly one of the most special artists we’ve known not just in hip-hop, but all of music. You can tell he feels that level of praise when speaking about the genesis of the album. “Having the ability to showcase my talents behind the boards coupled with the elite lyricism the world already knows and gives me infinite praise for alongside some of the best talents to ever do it is truly a blessing and for that I am humbled,” he said.

Rakim is more than an official triple-threat as an artist, because he’s also showing off skills as a curator. On this album’s seven tracks, he enlists a who’s-who of top hip-hop talent, including the dearly departed Nipsey Hussle, Fred the Godson, DMX, and Prodigy (of Mobb Deep). Rakim also linked with many of his contemporaries, such as Snoop Dogg, Method Man, KXNG Crooked, B.G., and Kool G. Rap, among others.

The album’s first single, “Be Ill,” is the perfect introduction, as it pairs Rakim’s raw rhymes and head-nodding production with slick guest features from Kurupt and Masta Killa. Elsewhere, Rakim slows it down for the soulful “Love Is The Message,” which features Nipsey Hussle, Planet Asia, Louis King, Snoop Dogg, Sally Green, Kobe Honeycutt, and the LA Grand Choir. And then there’s the chest-thumping “International,” a straight-up slapper with hard-hitting rhymes from Kool G. Rap, Tristate, and Joell Ortiz.

For fans of hip-hop, and especially of Rakim’s storied discography, there is so much to love on this record. You can hear his hunger as an emcee and producer on every track, as well as his desire to collaborate with so many respected artists. Despite having decades in the game and many classics to his name, it feels like Rakim is just getting started.

While the world awaits the July 26th release date, fans can catch Rakim performing live throughout the US from now until the end of year in support of G.O.D.S Network (REB7RTH). In addition to debuting new material, he’ll be performing all the classics from his beloved catalog.

Next up on Intrepid Skin, MarcelDune readies four heaters direct from the scuzziest corners of the rave, out on Friday 13 December on digital / vinyl.

Based in London but hailing from Athens, they draw upon a lifelong relationship with music spanning jazz studies, opera singing, and the punk DIY scenes of their hometown.


In connecting the dots between these disparate aspects, they've committed to engaging with music that honours resistance and authenticity, and draws inspiration from those seeking liberation from oppression and societal frameworks.

With this new release MarcelDune hones in on the ethos that underpins their aesthetic, with touches of euphoria, huge drums, and quintessentially fun.

Title track 'Buy Success' brandishes raw serrated edges and an industrial core whilst never losing the groove. 'Remedy for evil' moves into bouncier feels with the hardest groove. On 'Tell Me Who They Are', vocal chops ricochet over angular percussion and glitching machines. Closing things off, 'Romantic and Other Fantasies' lays down some weighty percussion driving a madhouse of effects forward.

“Writing this album, I opened up my closet, and a skeleton came out.” In a café just around the corner from his Edinburgh flat, Hamish Hawk is contemplating his extraordinary new record, A Firmer Hand. “The thing that links all of the songs is a sense of the unsaid, whether out of guilt, shame, repression, embarrassment, coyness, whatever it might have been. I realised: I am going to say these things, and not all of them are going to make me look good. The album made so many demands, and I just gave myself over to it.”

At this stage, where only a handful of close associates have heard the finished album, Hawk is still unsure of what the reaction might be from fans, critics, even family. He jokes that A Firmer Hand is the first of his records that his parents might not enjoy. “But the fact that it makes me nervous tells me it was the right thing to do.”

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

Hitting Number 1 in 19 countries on release, Hackney Diamonds marked the return of The Rolling Stones as their first original studio album since 2005’s A Bigger Bang.

The album includes the GRAMMY nominated lead single Angry alongside Sweet Sounds of Heaven featuring vocals from Lady Gaga and keys & piano from Stevie Wonder.

Late drummer Charlie Watts features on two tracks, ‘Mess It Up’ and ‘Live By The Sword’ alongside Bill Wyman. The album also includes collaborations with Paul McCartney & Elton John.

This special limited edition 1 year anniversary 2LP version of Hackney Diamonds includes Live at Racket NYC featuring the 7 tracks the band performed at the intimate launch event in New York on 19th October 2023 with debut live performances of Angry, Bite My Head Off, Whole Wide World and Sweet Sounds of Heaven with Lady Gaga. The 24 page booklet includes photos from the performance by Kevin Mazur.

A hugely in demand repress (the original vinyl pressing on North Country changes hands for hundreds of pounds..) now released on Shack’s newly created own label Shack Songs.

The Shack story is one of music’s greatest legends. It incorporates hardship, bereavement and chaotic misadventure, but above all it tells the tale of beautiful music triumphing over trouble and tragedy.

‘Here’s Tom with The Weather’ boasts a majestic and fresh form. These are magical songs, psychedelic folk songs of the finest Head vintage. Sleepy-eyed, wistful and mystical, yet crafted with a cunning and acute dexterity beyond just about anybody you can think of.

The two profoundly Liverpudlian brothers Mick and John Head have made several brilliant albums together , but none as quickly as ‘Here’s Tom…’ which was completed in seven weeks at Brynderwen Studios in North Wales along with drummer Iain Templeton (RIP) , bassist Guy Rigby and producer Jay Reynolds in 2003.

In the 80’s , the two brothers from the notorious Kensington estate in north Liverpool were singer and guitarist with The Pale Fountains , an effervescent pop group which imploded under the weight of two albums in 1986. The Heads returned in ‘88 as Shack and a debut album Zilch. In 1991 , Shack made ‘Waterpistol’ , an inspirational guitar jewel that would have proved just as influential as any British album in that era had the studio not burned down, taking the master tapes with it. Four more years passed , but by the time it was finally released on Marina it had developed ‘lost classic’ status.

The Heads battled on. They toured as their hero Arthur Lee (RIP) of Love’s backing band. In ‘97 , they created a new group called The Strands and recorded the delicate, dreamy masterpiece ‘The Magical World Of The Strands’ . They spent a long time making another classic ‘HMS Fable’ , and then decided that next time they wouldn’t take quite as long recording. Enter ‘Here’s Tom With The Weather’.

Showcasing John’s slow , shy emergence as a songwriter to challenge his brother (on the sparkling, heartbreaking ‘Miles Apart’ and ‘Carousel’ , and the spun-out ‘Kilburn High Road’ ) , toasting Mick’s newest confirmation as the most unrecognised genius of his or any other generation (the ode to his bro, ‘Byrds Turn To Stone’ , the mariachi horns that break open the slow folk fog of ‘Meant To Be’ , the two lullaby bookends ..and on , and on) .

“The journey we’ve had together has been beautifully turbulent”, laughs John. “But there’s times when we glide and we’re gliding forward now”

Mick agrees. “Making this album has been frantic, chaos, carnage, intense : the normal way with us. But it doesn’t sound like that. That’s all that matters. The story is what it is. But so are the songs and so are the records. Because we’re good.”

Nobody could disagree with that.

A hugely in demand repress (the original vinyl pressing on North Country changes hands for hundreds of pounds..) now released on Shack’s newly created own label Shack Songs.

The Shack story is one of music’s greatest legends. It incorporates hardship, bereavement and chaotic misadventure, but above all it tells the tale of beautiful music triumphing over trouble and tragedy.

‘Here’s Tom with The Weather’ boasts a majestic and fresh form. These are magical songs, psychedelic folk songs of the finest Head vintage. Sleepy-eyed, wistful and mystical, yet crafted with a cunning and acute dexterity beyond just about anybody you can think of.

The two profoundly Liverpudlian brothers Mick and John Head have made several brilliant albums together , but none as quickly as ‘Here’s Tom…’ which was completed in seven weeks at Brynderwen Studios in North Wales along with drummer Iain Templeton (RIP) , bassist Guy Rigby and producer Jay Reynolds in 2003.

In the 80’s , the two brothers from the notorious Kensington estate in north Liverpool were singer and guitarist with The Pale Fountains , an effervescent pop group which imploded under the weight of two albums in 1986. The Heads returned in ‘88 as Shack and a debut album Zilch. In 1991 , Shack made ‘Waterpistol’ , an inspirational guitar jewel that would have proved just as influential as any British album in that era had the studio not burned down, taking the master tapes with it. Four more years passed , but by the time it was finally released on Marina it had developed ‘lost classic’ status.

The Heads battled on. They toured as their hero Arthur Lee (RIP) of Love’s backing band. In ‘97 , they created a new group called The Strands and recorded the delicate, dreamy masterpiece ‘The Magical World Of The Strands’ . They spent a long time making another classic ‘HMS Fable’ , and then decided that next time they wouldn’t take quite as long recording. Enter ‘Here’s Tom With The Weather’.

Showcasing John’s slow , shy emergence as a songwriter to challenge his brother (on the sparkling, heartbreaking ‘Miles Apart’ and ‘Carousel’ , and the spun-out ‘Kilburn High Road’ ) , toasting Mick’s newest confirmation as the most unrecognised genius of his or any other generation (the ode to his bro, ‘Byrds Turn To Stone’ , the mariachi horns that break open the slow folk fog of ‘Meant To Be’ , the two lullaby bookends ..and on , and on) .

“The journey we’ve had together has been beautifully turbulent”, laughs John. “But there’s times when we glide and we’re gliding forward now”

Mick agrees. “Making this album has been frantic, chaos, carnage, intense : the normal way with us. But it doesn’t sound like that. That’s all that matters. The story is what it is. But so are the songs and so are the records. Because we’re good.”

Nobody could disagree with that.

Moondog's jovial H'art Songs was the first release not to incorporate his name in the title, but the record that forever proved his genius. A rare vocal album recorded by Moondog when he was in his sixties, these ten art songs blur the boundaries between classical and pop music. Moondog called this series of art songs "H'art songs" - Hardin's art songs. The musical content is on a higher level than most popular music, but has an appeal to a wide range of tastes, from the pop to the classical listener. This collection of piano pop songs written and recorded in 1977 made Moondogs' stunningly eclectic discography even more chaotic musically. It also featured some of his most mesmerizing wordplay. Telling tales that can be interpreted as metaphors for how to live - sometimes political, sometimes autobiographical, sometimes nature loving - they are always intriguingly poetic, and helped push this album to the very top of all Moondog'sreleases. "My singing style is without vibrato, as is the singing style of most of the people in the world. The voice part I have kept simple, intentionally, so that I and many others who like to sing such songs, including the barbershop quartet people, would be able to sing them. As I did on the record, the voice part should be sung by one voice or in unison, but not in harmony, because the harmony is exclusively in the piano parts, which are more complicated than the voice parts, especially in the canons and the obligati, which carry the main melodic burden." "Moondog singing Moondog? Really! even goodness knows, Moondog doesn't sing a song; he shows you how it goes." - Louis T Hardin aka Moondog. First time on Vinyl since 1978. Inner sleeve with lyrics to sing along to. Album liner notes by Moondog.

Hybrid is a word used indiscriminately in our daily lives. This record isn't a hybrid; it's beyond hybrid, post-hybrid, so to speak. Does this phrase sound complicated to you, and are you never overly convinced by music theory and its caricatural aspect? Then forget what you’ve just read and listen to both sides of this record. You'll soon realise that these tracks are deliciously deft, drawing their essence from dub while leaving room for some skillful jazz writing. For those of you intrigued by melodies, the art of musique concrète or the exploration of dub music’s deviant angles, this record will easily find its place on your turntable.

The two sides of the record are cut with play, improvisation and effects, while leaving room for themes and ideas. If this record’s first chapter was born from a request to remix and pay homage to Jackie Mittoo, its themes tell another story. They have been declined and even reduced to an explosion point. The tracks are also driven by subtle details of musique concrète, giving the record the effect of an intimate musical production – but, above all, one of uncategorisable beauty.

In Androo’s case, this is hardly surprising. He is a craftsman who is unassailable in every respect, a poetic dynamiter and, for this reason, one of the most unpredictable musicians in Geneva (and beyond). His appetite for dynamite is perhaps an indication of his conception of music as, first and foremost, an experience. His highly personal and inventive tribute to figures from free jazz and contemporary music proves the point. But perhaps it is also an indication of his attachment to Jean-Luc Godard. You'd have to imagine Androo at his mixing desk without a pre-written script. The idea of editing infuses the record. The two sides are very much in this style and spirit: (un-)shot, meticulous, (ir-)reverent. In this respect, this record is a formidable proposition, and perhaps difficult to understand, but not striving to be understood.

Its combination of improvisation and composition is underpinned by a razor-sharp precision and dexterity that's hard to ignore, especially if you're curious about the art of sound mixing and the romantic accidents. It has a dexterity that transforms musical grids into romantic essays and sketches. A romanticism in which Androo takes us on a liberating musical experience that makes us forget the inertia of the ramping formatting of the record industry. In any case, this record is an invitation to (un-)think the category, and will delight any ear curious to wander into territories of intuition where the word hybrid no longer makes sense.

Text by Carl Åhnebrink