Поиск:harmony think about it

Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

Folk duo lilo's ascent continues with second EP, I Don’t Like My Chances On The Outside. Having met at school aged 11, Christie Gardner and Helen Dixon’s friendship runs over a decade deep. Starting out with homespun recordings and YouTube covers, by the time they moved to London in their late-teens, they had an unshakeable creative bond that forms an incredible bedrock for them to flourish from. Their exceptional debut EP Sleep Country (Practise Music) came out in late-2021. Taking cues from alt-folk and classic country, it showed a maturity and dexterity that belied their years. As Loud & Quiet said of the band in a recent interview, "what sets them apart from their contemporaries is a real understanding of Americana-influenced folk’s lineage as a genre. Think Emmylou Harris’ soul bearing and the pitchperfect vocal glide of Karen Carpenter." New EP, I Don’t Like My Chances On The Outside, is a truly brilliant follow-up that underscores that we're no longing talking about promise with this duo. Working with producer friend Joseph Futák, they're now firmly in their stride, deftly counterbalancing delicate moments and harmony-led pop highs across a full-bodied band sound. Their lyrics speak for their generation too, encapsulating the panic, anxiety and love of twenty-somethings at a time of great uncertainty; from single 'Settled' where the financial realities of needing to move back in with your parents to the sheer relief of ending a relationship on 'I Don't Love You Anymore' and 'Just A Thought's failing attempts to pull a friend away from a bad person ("It's your hill to die on," they warn), nothing is off the plate.

Tallahassee, FL singer-songwriter Sarah Morrison's debut studio album
Attachment Figure depicts the strangeness of exploring new
relationships with subtle and spacious electronic production - As a
former live keyboardist in Locate S,1, Morrison co-produced Attachment
Figure with fellow bandmates Ross Brand and Clayton Rychlik, both of
whom also play in Of Montreal's backing band
She was motivated to experiment with looser song structures and more
unconventional chord progressions by her collaborators' fondness for avantgarde jazz, as well as Locate S,1 frontwoman Christina Schneider's idiosyncratic
writing style.
Throughout the album, echoing keys, woodwinds, and guitar ripple like a moonlit
lake from which Morrison's voice emerges. Her presence is spectral, yet
conversational, willing to conjure concrete imagery of mango- flavored vitamins
and the warmth of phone chargers alongside ghost stories of mannequin corpses
and epistolary curses, a balance shaped by an obsession with the theatrical
sincerity of Kate Bush and Mark Hollis.
Lyrically, Attachment Figure meditates on questions about identity, personal
growth, and helplessness - whether within a relationship or the oppressive
structures of society itself - often rooted in Morrison's experiences growing up in
the South. "There's a connection between Southern hospitality and femininity and
just allowing things to happen," Morrison says. "I've been in many relationships
with people who have used that 'southern charm' to their advantage. I think a lot
of people, non- men in particular, put on this charm instinctively. It's a defense
mechanism that I was interested in studying."
Attachment Figure is perpetually suspended between states of being, harmony
and dissonance, and contradictory sentiments we all hold as we enter into the
arms of someone new, but ultimately, it's guided by a desire for authentic love--
and a flair for intricate, intuitive songcraft.

Lost private press gem "The Swimmer" by Florida native Danny Morgan, is a cool and breezy, beguiling easy glide from 1987. It should've been huge. It still could be. It's a mellow marina masterpiece and quintessentially Balearic. Over the past few years, it's gathered a cult following yet the album from which it derives is virtually impossible to come by.

Finally available on a standalone, fully remastered 12", it's been backed by an instant classic "Seahawks Swimming Through Space Remix", courtesy of those beloved cats Jon Tye and Pete Fowler.

These won't be around for long, limited to just 500 copies for the world, so don't drown in procrastination.

One listen and you'll want to dive in.

Fans of the deeply entrancing, nautically and narcotically-enhanced cuts of Dennis Wilson or Michael Nesmith’s The Prison will be instantly mesmerised by the sheer beauty of "The Swimmer". After tracking Danny down, we wanted to know more. How does something so magical come about? The man himself answered thusly:

"At the time I was running many miles on the Sanibel Island beach and doing a bit of swimming in the Gulf Of Mexico. Keeping my mind busy on a long run, I imagined a “what if” movie scene. Almost every run or swim someone is sitting there on the beach watching what goes by. Back at my desk I started finger picking some chords and the picture in my head showed up. I punched in a rhythm loop and the song was on its way.

Adrian Belew and I had the same manager Stan Hertzman so I was listening to some of Adrian’s work. I was a huge fan of Joni Mitchel and the unusual chord changes and melodies in some of her songs. All of this influenced the sound on “The Swimmer”

I had a support band at the time living in my house on Sanibel Island so we practiced a lot. We came up with an arrangement of the song and we took across the bridge to John McLane’s Important Studios and recorded it. I played finger picking acoustic guitar and sang, Tim Miller played drums, Jeff Holck played fretless bass, Dave Dust played lead guitar and John McLane played keyboards and sang harmony."

Our deep thanks must go out to Jon Tye (MLO / Seahawks / Ocean Moon) for first hipping Be With to this stunner. We returned the favour by giving him the keys to the stems and requesting a strung out remix to go on the flip - he returned having conspired with Pete Fowler to conjure a cosmically copacetic rerub with the subtropical chug of the "Seahawks Swimming Through Space Remix".

Putting together the artwork for this 12" release was an enjoyable process. It was nice to be able to flip the original sleeve for the Beach Life album by using previously unseen photos, sent to us by Danny. We wanted to create something that looks like it would've gone with the LP sleeve. We think we've cracked it. Simon Francis remastered Danny's original audio and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" sounds appropriately outstanding. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this previously lost masterpiece stays forever found.

Harold Hutton’s ‘Lucky Boy’ was originally on the Chess sub-label Checker. Released in 1965 an original goes for around £50 these days. ‘Lucky Boy’ was the B-side of his debut single ‘It’s A Good Thing’ which launched him on a career that included regular spots on Soul Train during the 70s.Filled with Motown-esque horn stabs it builds into a bongo-powered frenzy.

The super soulful Dells’ flipside from a year later was originally on Cadet, another Chess subsidiary originally called Argo.Another £30-£50 gem if you can find an original copy. Typical of the band’s close harmony style, ‘Thinkin' About You’ is a mid-tempo groove with an insistent rhythm and some lush strings.

All topped with a heart-warming baritone vocal on a classic piece of soul romanticism.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of [Lee’s] drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of Lee’s drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

The album’s seemingly brief tracklisting belies a work of great beauty and depth, and one which turned into a one-man crusade for singer/guitarist Lars Andersson, intertwining deeply personal stories with his love for the era of Romanticism. “Every time I go to a museum and I’m about to pass through the era of Romanticism I stop in awe,” says Lars of the enduring appeal of the 18th century artistic movement. “Whatever it is – stories, paintings, music – it triggers something deep within me, something profoundly human. It really hits a nerve, and it utterly immerses me to a point where I can’t move.” The album replicates this feeling; a gloriously over-the-top blend of Slowdive and Sigur Rós, mixed with the single-mindedness of Daniel Johnston and the noisiness of Nirvana, it’s as bold and beautiful and every bit as ornate as the art that inspired it. Unlike their acclaimed debut, 2019’s All That Ever Could Have Been, which gradually came into focus with a 15-minute opening track, Picturesque hits home from the very first note of the short and sweet opener, ‘Ballerina’. That’s not to say there aren’t epics here – ‘Metamorphosis’ is essentially a 12-minute suite of three movements; blistering closer ‘The Lot’ is 11 minutes of Swans-inspired heaviness – but everything is much more direct and focused. This isn’t an album to lose yourself in, it’s one to get swept away by. “‘More is more’ was definitely the credo when making this record,” agrees Lars. “A big inspiration were bands like Pond and the way they manage to fill their songs up with stuff to the absolute maximum. While I definitely tried to give the listener some room to breathe at certain points and while, in good old post-rock fashion, it still builds up and breaks down, it relies much more on simple melody and harmony as opposed to noisy experimentation to transport feeling.” Never more so than on the first single, ‘The Golden Age’, which is the album’s centrepiece; a soaring slice of über-shoegaze that is so stunning you can’t take your eyes or ears off it. Like all the songs on the album, it’s based around a fairy-tale from the Romantic era. In this case, it’s Heinrich von Ofterdingen by the German poet, author and philosopher Novalis (other influences are: The Steadfast Tin Soldier by Hans Christian Andersen; The Seven Ravens and Hans in Luck by the Brothers Grimm; Undine by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué and The Golden Pot by E.T.A. Hoffmann), with Lars drawing parallels between the titular character’s mystical and romantic searchings and his own personal quest. This is apt as the album has been an overriding obsession for Lars for the past two-and-a-half years; as well as writing and recording the songs (bandmate Phillip Dornauer played drums), he also mixed and mastered them at his Alpine Audio studio and Picturesque is very much his Brian Wilson or Kevin Shields moment. MOLLY were in the middle of their European tour when Covid hit in early 2020, forcing Lars to retreat back to his home outside Innsbruck and giving him time and space to think about every detail of the record. “Well, I was on a quest I guess,” he admits. “Like everyone, I was stranded at home and at some point I just said to myself, ‘If not now, then when?’ It was an intense process. I’ve worked on music from other bands and artists before but producing and mixing your own music is an utterly different animal. It was probably the most intense thing I’ve ever done, but it was also incredibly rewarding and the feeling of it all coming together piece by piece is incomparable.” The artwork is just as effective. “I think of Radiohead’s OK Computer – what you hear on the record is what you see on the cover,” explains Lars. “We were inspired by what we call ‘wimmelbilder’ hidden pictures in German, a very specific style in art where there are a lot of little things happening. When you see it from further away, it looks organic like a lost painting from the area of Romanticism, but the closer you look the more digital it gets. It’s a nice analogy.” He’s right, it perfectly sums up the conflict between Romanticism and 21st century life. “Romanticism was basically an answer to the Industrial Revolution as well as the social and political norms of the Age Of Enlightenment,” concludes Lars. “Now, we all live in a much more industrialised, materialistic, individualistic and sterile society than any early Romanticist could have ever possibly imagined. Over 200 years later the Romanticists have lost the battle.” With the divine and downright pulchritudinous Picturesque, MOLLY begin the fightback.1.Ballerina 2.Metamorphosis 3.The Golden Age 4.Sunday Kid 5.So To Speak 6.The Lot

With Panorama, Frank Maston pays homage to the classic era of library records and Italian soundtracks of the 70s. A blissed-out, grooving collection of filmic cues, it continues the unique brilliance of Tulips and Darkland. Elegant and easy, subtle and stylish, breezy and beautiful; this is his Maston-piece. Commissioned by legendary label KPM, Panorama cements Maston as a master of modern classics and the most mesmeric of contemporary composers.

In early 2020, Be With suggested to Frank that he should make a KPM record. He wasn't aware that they were still putting out new library records - but he was super keen: "It was completely surreal and it still hasn't fully sank in that I have a record in that catalog, sitting alongside those incredible albums that were so influential to me."

Frank was visiting family in his hometown of LA in March 2020 when the world ground to a halt so the KPM project arrived at a fortuitous moment. Having fantasised about committing to a record with no distractions, with a proper budget, access to his gear and space to work in - to really dig in and try to write and arrange the best work he could possibly make - it was a real "be careful what you wish for" moment. But, as Frank explained, "it completely saved my year and sanity to have something to focus on and get excited about. It was my lifeline." He spent seven months on it, working almost every day.

Maston had already been making library-influenced music so when KPM outlined the criteria for the tracks it was exactly what he had been doing all along. He thought the best approach would be to make a follow-up to Tulips that had a parallel life as a KPM record. Enjoying complete creative freedom, “gave me the drive to power through and dig in deep. I'm not sure if I could have kept myself on such a rigorous recording schedule under my own steam, and I think the momentum I had writing and recording it is part of the strength of this record."

Maston’s sleek retro-groove instrumentals emulate the classic KPM “Greensleeve” reel-to-reel recordings that provided mood-setting music for mid-century cinema, television, and radio programs. Apparently in close conversation with the John Cameron-Keith Mansfield KPM pastoral masterclass Voices In Harmony, Maston's Panorama could be heard as that record's funky follow-up. Yes, it's *that good*. Another reference point from the hallowed library would be Francis Coppieter's wonderful Piano Viberations.

Opener "First Class" is a blissed-out groove, featuring the soothing vocals of Molly Lewis and a glistening harp over drums, a two-note bass motif (from Eli Ghersinu of L'Eclair) and an assemblage of guitars, synths, French horn and glowing vibraphone. Acid Lounge, anyone? The irresistibly funky "Easy Money" is a gorgeous cut led by more of Molly's vocals, pastoral flute and Rhodes, underpinned by drums and percussion, grooving bass, chilled guitars and synth strings. Kicking the tempo up, the percussive "Storm" is a vibin' filmic-fusion jam where psychedelic guitars (courtesy of Pedrum of Allah Las/Paint) organ, jazzy flute, Rhodes and vibes all compete for a place in the sun, over drums and walking bassline.

The heavenly "You Shouldn't Have" is a delicate, melancholic wonder; a dreamy instrumental where the melody is shared by a whistle, harpsichord and celeste, over a cyclical piano chord sequence and bass, synths, guitars, organ and distant French horn. The tempo rises again with the passionate, sticky "Fling", a summery, nostalgic groove with skipping drums and percussion, warm bass and electric guitar, yearning flute and synth strings. The brilliantly titled "Fool Moon" has that Voices In Harmony sound down pat. A romantic slow-mo dreamscape of Rhodes and harpsichord, piano, light drums and softly strummed acoustic guitar.

Side B opens with "Medusa", a hopeful, mellowed-out track with shuffling drums, feel-good flute, muted horns, glowing Rhodes and synth strings. The soft and gentle "Morning Paper" is an elegant way to start the day; a beatless blend of flute, guitar, percussion, ambient synths and vibes. The upbeat head-nod jam "Scenic" has that widescreen car-chase feel, uptempo drums and percussion, grooving bass, piano, synths and ambient electric guitar. "Adieu" is a smooth summer vibe, relaxing with brushed drums, Rhodes, flutes and horns. Molly Lewis's gorgeous vocals steal the show, alongside vibes, jamming organ and synth strings.

"Hydra" is another laid-back 70s-sounding retro cinema cue with light drums and percussion, walking bass, spacey synths, clavinet, glowing vibraphone, vintage organ and electric guitar. Closer "Jet Lag" is a laconic bow out; bass-driven drum machine soul, featuring hand percussion, Rhodes, vibes, synths and organ.

Multi-instrumentalist Frank played a bit of everything across Panorama. Yet, humble as ever, he believes the time, energy, and enthusiasm of all of the musicians invited to the sessions helped him realise his vision: "There were two Italian flautists who really understood what I was going for. Two french horn players, cor anglais, a vibraphonist and a flügel horn player. I've never involved this many people in my projects before, and yet the result is the most "me" record I've ever made."

Musically, a strong Italian theme runs through the record. Frank is fascinated by ancient Rome and both his parents are Italian (Maston was originally Mastrantonio before anglicisation). So, it felt natural to fully embrace these strands and tie everything together with the striking artwork. The Romans were influenced by Greek culture, emulating their art and architecture, which, in turn, influenced Renaissance era artists. Frank acknowledged this tradition when reflecting on his place in the lineage of library and soundtrack composers. He then asked his friend Mattea Perrotta, a painter and sculptor, for some sketches. What he received was exactly what he had in mind: "Especially the theater mask, which really captures the range of moods on the album". Frank arranged them as per the cover and it soon felt right: "I wanted to make a cover that was reminiscent of the classic KPM albums without making it too pastiche - so it has its own identity and looks at home alongside other library records, while still fitting in nicely in the KPM catalogue." The last step was for us to introduce Frank to Be With-KPM’s Rich Robinson, who helped put together the back and centre labels and align it all within the KPM standard.

Panorama is a perfect title for the album. With no opportunity to travel for tours or recording projects, Frank arranged postcards from his collection on his desk with beautiful views of the mediterranean coast, the Roman Colosseum and Cinque Terre. These also served as visual prompts: "That was part of the sonic concept - imagining myself driving down the mediterranean coast with this music on, with the top down." Additionally, the range of moods and vibes - "I tried to make each song very different from the previous one in terms of tempo and arrangement and feeling" - speaks to the idea of a Panorama of music and sounds and emotions. The last track was originally called Panorama, but KPM already had that title in their catalogue so it was changed to "Jet Lag", which, as Frank notes, "is perhaps even more fitting, since the trip is over".

El Goodo guitarist and songwriter 'Pixy Jones' has announced that his debut album entitled 'Bits n Bobs' is due for release on 16th of September via Strangetown Records. 
After 4 albums with El Goodo, Welsh psych scene stalwart Pixy Jones has himself compiled a truly remarkable collection of tracks that fluctuate from 60's harmony-rich psych pop, to Alt-Country with ringing tremelo guitar. 

The swaggering 'I'm Not There' is the first single to be taken from 'Bits n Bobs' accompanied by a magical version of Beatles track 'And Your Bird Can Sing' as it's B SIde, which will be released digitally on Friday 1st of July.

Pixy had this to say about the release: 
The album was originally intended as a solo project under the pseudonym of “Wallace Russell”. I recorded it alongside the recording of Zombie (El Goodo) whenever I could get in the studio. There are some really old songs that have always been overlooked for 'El Goodo' albums for one reason or another, a few new ones which I wrote specifically for this, and a couple that would have probably ended up on the intended double album version of Zombie if we’d kept going with the double album idea. I’ve since ditched the 'Wallace Russell' name and gone back to 'Pixy Jones' as I figured there’s no need to have a pseudonym if nobody knows who you are in the first place. Even though I dropped the name I’ve kept the walrus mask for now as it is more photogenic than my actual face.
I had no recording budget so I had to fund it by quitting smoking and saving the money up to pay for studio time. It took, I think, two and a half years to record, which is by far the quickest I’ve ever recorded an album.

Originally I wanted it to just be a quickly recorded slap dash and get it out sort of thing but I had a year and a half during Covid to think about it a bit more and ended up taking more care to get it done properly. It was just me there so I played most of it myself apart from Stephen Black (Sweet Baboo) who played brass and woodwind on one song and Rhodri Brooks (AhGeeBe) plays some pedal steel on a couple. 

Elliott and Canny from 'El Goodo' played drums and bass on Wind Street during the ‘Zombie’ recording sessions. 

The album was recorded and mixed in Aerial Studios with Tim Lewis, (Thighpaulsandra), a couple of songs were finished in the house during the lockdowns.

AM006 is by Berlin's ML, titled 'Life always breaks your heart'. Two 30-minute pieces were written, constructed, collaged and fixed together by himself. It's an important story, so there's a copy from ML below and also ours was written by Bokeh Version Industrial to do it justice.

Hallucinated Brazilian poetry read by text to voice engines, supernatural thrillers ripped from Youtube, the clang of cutlery and distant canteen conversation, that noise wire fencing makes when you rake it with a stick, crickets chirping over odd dance emotions, a sample you think your recognise but can’t name…..

The trivial is cosmically important, the cosmically important is trivial. ‘It’s about the product’ - all of life’s a sample. You contain universes.

Alice in Wonderland, late night sessions with kosmische guitar legends, ethnographic chants from an unknown land, “There’s no monopoly of knowledge / there’s no monopoly of power”: forecasts from global political trends, China will be important they say, someone’s whistling a tune that doesn’t exist, I’m thinking of times long before I was born . . .

Growing naturally like a beautiful montage from his field recordings (a rich library of personal psychoacoustic details) and his 150 Session on NTS, ML's Life Always Breaks Your Heart is mixtape-concrète:

Gamelan of the soul, Bio-Curry-Wurst in Kreuzberg, zither overlays the booms of the squatter’s homegrade grenades…

Mark Leckey vs. Alvin Curran, Gustav Flaubert vs Cabaret Voltaire, free association flashbacks with the timestamps mixed up, with added bass guitar, OP-1, Ableton, distinguishing the ‘real’ instruments becomes unimportant….they’re absorbed by memory foam….

No country, no flag – outernational without a cause!

There is no purpose, there is only reverie.

ML -

"A useless ruin, things are falling apart, even in our deepest, we long for harmony. A hypothetical path, for obscure reasons, fades into transparency. The mediocrity of Western culture, sicken by P.R., life offers a chance, a place for enthusiasm. The texture of the world, them can read it in your eyes. In the heart of schizo-culture, distance, suddenly shortened, forms characters as symbols. Deafen by mass media, embittered by unsettled chemistry, the willing body, forever in transition. The pre-invented existence, owned by language, creates a passage towards chaos. Paragraphs of currents, amplify the feelings, while silence leaks into the new luxury of time. Gentrification of sentiments, beneath our palms, all these memoirs. A modern consciousness, stretching over years in narcissistic differentiation. In touch with another human spirit, blowing backwards, beneath dark waters. We put our hands on your body, onto a new landscape, employed by metaphysical mutations. At the edge of the cosmos, prairies and mountains hide the truth in tactical silence. Apparently so, a number of months ago, above our head, a landscape of journals. Mystical content, statistically insignificant. A new patio, them crawled through the walls."

James 'Perturbator' Kent and Cult of Luna are the masters of their respective worlds. Over the last decade, the French maestro has become the most expectation-breaking name in synthwave, transcending its '80s video game aesthetic with metal and post-punk.

Meanwhile, the Swedish sextet have affirmed themselves as post-metal's biggest stars. Seismic riffs, earth-quaking growls and brave collaborations with everyone from Julie Christmas to Colin Stetson have ensured they're as blistering as they are forward-thinking.
Eclecticism and violence are married in Final Light: Perturbator's team-up with Cult of Luna singer/guitarist Johannes Persson. The pair's self-titled debut album is the perfect conglomerate between seemingly incompatible sounds.

On its opening track, the insidious "Nothing Will Bear Your Name", synths bubble to construct an arresting opening half. Then, release. Johannes' roar strikes and guitar chords boom as computerised beats anchor the chaos.

"It Came with the Water" echoes Cult of Luna's 2013 titan Vertikal, invoking images of an urban dystopia as its deep guitar melody grinds beneath sci-fi electronica. The title track's distorted EDM beats, on the other hand, are all James 'Perturbator' Kent, capable of invigorating the seediest of underground nightclubs. Both parties are clearly playing to their strengths - but for them to do so in such perfect harmony is, in itself, a genre-demolishing feat.

Lyrically, Final Light seethes with anger. "There was so much that I was so fucking pissed about," Johannes explains. "Some of my friends were dealing with a poisonous person: a narcissistic, crazy person. I was walking around full of anger and hate, so I think that came out in those lyrics."

The tandem's story began in 2019. Walter Hoeijmakers, the artistic director of the Netherlands' lauded Roadburn festival, approached James 'Perturbator' Kent with the opportunity of doing a commissioned piece with any musician of his choosing. As soon as the pair began work on their boundary-decimating songs, they knew that they had to be immortalised as an album.

"It was immediate," states Perturbator. "It's a project that I really want to share; it's not only the fruit of a collaboration between me and one of my favourite musicians, but also very unique and once-in-a-lifetime."
They wrote and recorded together in Paris before the start of the pandemic. Covid, which postponed the Roadburn festival at which the band would have debuted, gave them time to perfect what they'd crafted.
Johannes recorded additional vocals at Cult of Luna's resident studio in Umeå, Sweden, fully capturing the rage of his apocalyptically harsh voice.

Borders were built to be shattered. This is the sound of their destruction. Single-handedly, Final Light have birthed a new, bleak breed of experimental metal.

James 'Perturbator' Kent and Cult of Luna are the masters of their respective worlds. Over the last decade, the French maestro has become the most expectation-breaking name in synthwave, transcending its '80s video game aesthetic with metal and post-punk.

Meanwhile, the Swedish sextet have affirmed themselves as post-metal's biggest stars. Seismic riffs, earth-quaking growls and brave collaborations with everyone from Julie Christmas to Colin Stetson have ensured they're as blistering as they are forward-thinking.
Eclecticism and violence are married in Final Light: Perturbator's team-up with Cult of Luna singer/guitarist Johannes Persson. The pair's self-titled debut album is the perfect conglomerate between seemingly incompatible sounds.

On its opening track, the insidious "Nothing Will Bear Your Name", synths bubble to construct an arresting opening half. Then, release. Johannes' roar strikes and guitar chords boom as computerised beats anchor the chaos.

"It Came with the Water" echoes Cult of Luna's 2013 titan Vertikal, invoking images of an urban dystopia as its deep guitar melody grinds beneath sci-fi electronica. The title track's distorted EDM beats, on the other hand, are all James 'Perturbator' Kent, capable of invigorating the seediest of underground nightclubs. Both parties are clearly playing to their strengths - but for them to do so in such perfect harmony is, in itself, a genre-demolishing feat.

Lyrically, Final Light seethes with anger. "There was so much that I was so fucking pissed about," Johannes explains. "Some of my friends were dealing with a poisonous person: a narcissistic, crazy person. I was walking around full of anger and hate, so I think that came out in those lyrics."

The tandem's story began in 2019. Walter Hoeijmakers, the artistic director of the Netherlands' lauded Roadburn festival, approached James 'Perturbator' Kent with the opportunity of doing a commissioned piece with any musician of his choosing. As soon as the pair began work on their boundary-decimating songs, they knew that they had to be immortalised as an album.

"It was immediate," states Perturbator. "It's a project that I really want to share; it's not only the fruit of a collaboration between me and one of my favourite musicians, but also very unique and once-in-a-lifetime."
They wrote and recorded together in Paris before the start of the pandemic. Covid, which postponed the Roadburn festival at which the band would have debuted, gave them time to perfect what they'd crafted.
Johannes recorded additional vocals at Cult of Luna's resident studio in Umeå, Sweden, fully capturing the rage of his apocalyptically harsh voice.

Borders were built to be shattered. This is the sound of their destruction. Single-handedly, Final Light have birthed a new, bleak breed of experimental metal.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

1. Some records hit you with an instant impression of timeless brilliance, and Low Life’s Dogging is one of those records, what the wise call “an instant classic”. 2. From Squats to Lots: The Agony and the XTC of Low Life is more like their second album Downer Edn (read Edition), a little more withdrawn, a little more textured. Complex. Rich. Which is to say: you’re going to need some time with it. 3. Some show, some grow. Low Life have done both. This one is a grower. Spend some time with this one. It’s got that nuanced flavour. Don’t guzzle. Sip. Savour. 4. Sip it, and sense the recurring brilliance of Mitch Tolman’s lyrics, exploring the usual territory of gutter life, lad life, punk life, low life. The dirge. Disgust and shame in white Australia. Council housing, bills piled to the neck, substance abuse and rehabilitation, the fallen lads and lasses who stood too close to the flame, loss and loneliness, from squats to lots. Un-Australian gutter symphony. 5. There is a celebration of resilience and that’s a central theme of this record and a time like ours needs a record like Agony & XTC. Low times are coming through, but if you’re low they won’t get to you. 6. Iggy Pop’s Bowie produced studio rock masterpieces ‘The Idiot’ and ‘Lust For Life’ are important reference points to the 3rd album sounds of Low Life. Here comes success! 7. ‘The Agony and Ecstasy’ is a 1985 novel by Irving Stone about the life of Italian Renaissance painter Michelangelo. Stone wrote another novel about the single eared painter Vincent Van Gogh called ‘Lust For Life’. This synchronicity hit me. 8. Iggy and the Stooges are a pretty safe reference for Low Life (and all good rock music). Iggy and the Stooges are a low life’s Michelangelo, but solo Iggy like Lust for Life is a better reference for this particular incarnation of Low Life, which is to say they are studio rock albums. 9. Bowie later referred to this period of his life as profoundly nihilistic. But Iggy looked at it as the period of his life that saved him from an early grave. This confrontation is Low life lore. 10. Let’s stick to this, because there’s something about this era of Bowie that makes sense with Low Life’s new album, particularly Low. One should never miss the Low in our new album from Low Life. Producer and studio boss Mickey Grossman has the ear for the Low, and he has carved out a little statue of David right here. 11. Mickey’s ears are recording, mixing and producing the best of Sydney, most notably the Oily Boys Cro Memory Grin. A great companion record to this one. Use Agony & XTC AFTER Oily Boys. Not on an empty stomach, and don’t try to operate heavy machinery (bobcat, bulldozer etc). 12. The relationship between Low Life and Sydney hardcore should not be understated, but it also shouldn’t guide how to listen to Agony & XTC. This is not austere, disciplined music. 13. Think, like, if Poison Idea were given the kind of studio time and budget as Happy Mondays. You wouldn’t play it to a teenager. It’s not for children. This is a mature flavour, one for the adults who have had to contend with failure and hardship, medical bills and disappointed family members, betrayed lovers and worrisome growths, police brutality and tooth decay, humiliating bowels and collapsed septums, detoxing and drying out, for those who have seen themselves as corrupted and putrid and unloveable, for those who endure all of this and aren’t willing to lie down and cop it sweet: Low Life are still here and they ain’t going nowhere. NOTES ON HOW NOT TO LISTEN TO AGONY AND XTC OF LOW LIFE: 1. Don’t think of shoe-gaze. It suggests a safe passage to 90’s reminiscences, a vogue style of our time, but nothing to do with Low Life style. Low Life style is always of its time. The content changes. Agony & XTC shares weight of records like My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and Slowdive’s Kebab, records that were laboured on after the songs were recorded, songs that were written as they were recorded. 2. We can call these “studio albums” as opposed to albums built in the heat of live performance. Studio albums from the 90’s are called shoe-gaze by some journalist nerds, but we know better than to use words like this. 3. Studio albums are excessive and, at the same time, so empty. Agony & XTC, Loveless, Kebab, Rumours: excessive! And empty. This is not to suggest this is Low Lite, some throwback, soft. A band like Low Life can make an overproduced studio rock album without having to use the word shoe-gaze. So, don’t think studio albums mean anything especially 90’s. Don’t look back. 4. Let’s lose these distasteful labels, like “shoe-gaze”, “rehab rock”, “stab”, “guitar OD overdrive”, “western Sydney wonder”. They can fade out. A low life was once referred to as a vagabond. Who uses this term today? Nobody. Language can murder. Words can die. Kill ‘em all! - Daniel 'DX' Stewart, Melbourne, 2021.

Ramona Córdova is a sound artist — passionate about writing, communicating, linguistics, behavioural & social psychology, observation & investigative research, photography, sound recording, and design. Their artist focus is on project-based sound and visual media, public engagement and live performance — although they are best known for their music and are typical regarded as a singer songwriter. Ramona Córdova intends to speak to the challenges of living under systems of oppression while inspiring introspection and personal growth toward the maturing of our societies. Ramona is Haitian-Filipina, Puerto Rican, born in Kingman, Arizona, USA and is inter-feminine trans non-binary.

"When I first started working on Naïve I was completely consumed by all of the technical details involved in making a 'professional studio recording' on my own - one which could not be refuted or disregarded as subpar. My only other hope was to tell some sort of story with whichever songs i could piece together. The content and message of which were much less important to me.

The story that Naïve ended up telling comes from a cohesion of themes, ceaseless in my personal experiences living day to day in the world. Although the album dares to tread on tact while speaking poetically and lyrically about issues such as systemic oppression, racism, misogyny, policing and patriarchy - I think the album really just wants to reflect - to serve as a reflection - in order to foster healing and healthy growth towards maturing. I feel it commanding a kind of firm kindness as a reminder to love yourself enough to accept others, by way of accepting yourself.

Pressed onto this 180-gram vinyl are 10 songs I wrote while living in many different places around the world. Spontaneous recordings of inspired notions of song, written one rainy evening up high above the vineyards in Banyuls-sur-Mer became Men on the Mountain. A Scrap of paper holding jots about a sudden storm on a hot day in August while helping friends on their farm in Puglia became Mouth of Autumn and Peace Through Violence. As I dressed myself into the fragile reality of the United States, I became flooded by its manipulative social governing systems. As the monuments of slave-owners, colonisers, and white supremacists came crashing down in the name of responsibility and accountability, The Bridge Works was built, a song about crossing bridges towards empathy and equality. Civil rights activist and American-Football quarterback, Colin Kaepernick, taking the knee during the United States national anthem pre-game ceremony, brought about So Long. The incessant murdering of black, brown, and transgender citizens brought Woke, Scared I'll Bite You, and The End. The murder of Eric Garner and the feeling of being choked-out and suffocated under the weight of systemic oppression brought about Still.

From all of this birthed the collection of songs that is Naïve, a title given to the album by French Ghanian artist Eden Tinto Collins. Although written both in Europe and the U.S., most of the songs were performed and recorded at the end of the year 2018 in Philadelphia, during the American-Holidays season. Still, Loving Him, and The End were written in Philadelphia, but produced in Vlorë, Albania. This helped serve as a reminder that the issues these songs speak of are not isolated to the United States of America." - Ramona Córdova

DJ Sotofett and LNS have teamed up with Tresor Records for Sputters. The double-vinyl album with 15 cuts spans a hybrid of warped electro and psychedelic hypnosis, all the while remaining fixed in an unmistakable dance release. Recorded between 2017 – 2020, and bookmarked throughout by intros and interludes dug out from archival material, it's a deconstructed yet classic compound of techno-sonics.

LNS from Calgary, Canada, is rooted in braindance, electro and acid. Releasing 12inches on both her self-titled imprint LNS and Sotofett’s Wania - LNS, whilst in the studio, has often pointed out “the lacking blend of dub and electro in dance music”.
DJ Sotofett, hailing from Moss, Norway, is among a myriad of things commonly known for the extended work of his Sex Tags Mania and Wania labels, without forgetting his afro, dub and jazz releases on Honest Jon's London.
Together both artists give space to a guest appearance by E-GZR, a fellow Wania artist, to open the Sputters journey. The sinus bending drum stutter of K.O. by E-GZR collisions flanging basses and chronic-inducing synth pads to blueprint the technoid atmosphere to come. LNS & DJ Sotofett take control with El Dubbing, evoking an effect-heavy demeanour, typical of the Sex Tags Mania soundworld that DJ Sotofett is responsible for, this time rubbing up against solid electrified rhythms. The hypnotic moods carry over to Dúnn Dubbing's deep delays, freely running over a surprisingly minimal skeleton retaining a solid direction. Crafting a warmly emotive end of Side-A with sparse rhythms to perfection.
A meaner turn introduces Side-B. Hints of electro are scattered everywhere, fat basslines, ricocheting drums and synths that mourn and drift in and out of harmony. Vitri-Oil exposes a tumbling sound design, fog-lit chords of material fragility and nosedives - with an alive mix that wallows and grows in equal measures. The side closes with Shim, a classic drift between house and techno releasing sensual euphoria with the albums first big surprise – grand strings.

“LNS wanted to sell her TR-606, while my reply was for us to make a track with the 606 sounding so fresh that she'd never even think about selling it again” Sotofett states. Side-C proves the artists to be some of the most singular producers around with album centrepiece The 606. Clocking in over 10 minutes, it kicks off as a driving techno banger, chugging bass and big chords. Midway through everything falls away, and out of the void enter scattered drums and improv piano lines emerge, while twisted dubs lead us back in an enduringly warm groove.

Side-D sets the clock back to the original electroid foundation of the album, casting fires with alien vibrations. Synchronic Bass Blort is a hard-hitting electro track, steaming sonics and thrills, its melodic hook diving in subterranean motions. On Sputtering the duo raspily beams into outer space, with fizzy motives that disfigure and dazzle while the harmonies of the closing track is for yourself to experience.
DJ Sotofett and LNS deliver an album inhabiting a world full of sci-fi sonics and fierce groove. Their sound is free and live, simultaneously wondrous and sharp.

Nonesuch Records releases an album of songs written and performed by Caroline Shaw and Sō Percussion, Let the Soil Play Its Simple Part. The musicians, who have known each other since their student days, were presented with three days of gratis studio time and decided to experiment with ideas they had begun putting to tape during the sessions for their January 2021 Nonesuch release Narrow Sea. With Shaw on vocals and Sō – Eric Cha-Beach, Josh Quillen, Adam Sliwinski, and Jason Treuting – filling out this new band, they developed songs in the studio, with lyrics inspired by their own wide-ranging interests: James Joyce, the Sacred Harp hymn book, a poem by Anne Carson, the Bible’s Book of Ruth, the American roots tune ‘I’ll Fly Away’, and the pop perfection of ABBA, among others. The album is co-produced by Shaw, Sō Percussion, and the Grammy Award–winning engineer Jonathan Low (The National, Taylor Swift).

Shaw, who won a Pulitzer Prize for her vocal composition Partita for 8 Voices, written for and performed with Roomful of Teeth, makes her solo vocal debut with Let the Soil Play Its Simple Part. The album’s first track, ‘To the Sky’, from the Sacred Harp, takes its lyrics from Anne Steele. “I love the songs about death, and going home, and looking toward a time that is better or brighter, which, if there’s one thing to think about in the world, maybe that’s the thing,” Shaw says. “This one I love in particular. There’s a line, ‘Frail solace of an hour / So soon our transient comforts fly / And pleasure blooms to die.’ It’s meditation on the ephemeral, and I love it.”

“I hadn’t written very many songs, but I have certainly loved many in my life. I’ve been thinking of making a solo album for seven or eight years, but it takes having the right friends and community in the room,” Shaw says. “The prompt for all of us was: What would we make in the room together with no one person in charge, like a band writes in the studio?”

Cha-Beach recalls of the early test run during the Narrow Sea session: “It had that capturing-lightning-in-a bottle feeling.” When the opportunity to have three days in their friends’ studio, Guilford Sound, came up, the five musicians decamped for Vermont with engineer/co-producer Jonathan Low. “Jon is an amazing editor,” Cha-Beach says. “He is so helpful in thinking about: ‘We have these ideas: how do we shrink those and make them come across on an album?’”

One such idea was for Shaw to do a duet with each member of Sō. She sings with Josh Quillen on steel drums on the title track, which she wrote in under an hour in a “free-writing zone, very inspired by James Joyce, taking on that brain space,” she says. Lyrically, the song is “related to some math bits that I love, but also memory, and love songs of somebody who’s gone or passed away, or that you’re no longer with: what is the sound of that kind of devastation or confusion or love?” They recorded the song only twice, and the first take is on the album. “It’s very spare. The playing is very Josh; it’s so sensitive,” Shaw says.

Adam Sliwinski’s marimba duet with Shaw is an interpretation of the ABBA song ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’. She explains, “It’s really a Bach chorale. Also, the idea of someone singing ‘Don’t go wasting your emotion / Lay all your love on me / Don’t go sharing your devotion / Lay all your love on me,’ over and over again very slowly, there’s a certain tragedy in it. And then Adam did some absolutely exquisite layering that built this stunning world from the marimba.”

Jason Treuting on the drum kit joined Shaw for ‘Long Ago We Counted’. She suggested, “Why don’t we start with the voice and the kit having a weird conversation, sort of like two babies talking to each other? And then we built this loop, and we go from this place that’s totally uncomfortable and nonsensical to something that’s rich and rolling and satisfying.” For ‘Some Bright Morning’, the duet with Cha-Beach – who here plays electronics, piano, and Hammond organ – Shaw drew upon a twelfth century liturgical hymn she had sung regularly in church during her college years: ‘Salve Regina’.

“Some songs on Let the Soil… were very specifically composed by Caroline,” Cha-Beach says. “But others were this assemblage of ideas: finding words, an idea for how a melody could work, a harmony, and then tossing it in a blender and trusting each other.” Shaw adds, “What I love about Sō is the curiosity about how objects make sounds and how they speak to each other. There was an underlying thread of thinking about what goes into soil, how we take care of it, how we allow it to be itself, how we contain it, and what can come out of it if you cultivate the right environment, which for me is always this wonderful metaphor for creativity and collaboration: let people be themselves and see what happens,” she concludes.

Caroline Shaw is a New York–based musician – vocalist, violinist, composer, and producer – who performs in solo and collaborative projects. She was the youngest recipient of the Pulitzer Prize for Music in 2013 for Partita for 8 Voices, written for the Grammy–winning Roomful of Teeth, of which she is a member. Shaw’s film scores include Erica Fae’s To Keep the Light and Josephine Decker’s Madeline’s Madeline as well as the upcoming short 8th Year of the Emergency by Maureen Towey. Hailed for ‘astonishing both the pop and classical music worlds’ (Guardian), she has produced for Kanye West (The Life of Pablo; Ye) and Nas (NASIR), and has contributed to records by The National and by Arcade Fire’s Richard Reed Parry. Shaw currently teaches at NYU and is a Creative Associate at The Juilliard School. Her 2019 Nonesuch/New Amsterdam album Orange won a Grammy Award.

Through its interpretations of modern classics, innovative multi-genre original productions, and ‘exhilarating blend of precision and anarchy, rigor and bedlam’ (New Yorker), Sō Percussion has redefined the scope and role of the modern percussion ensemble. Sō’s repertoire ranges from twentieth century works by John Cage, Steve Reich, and Iannis Xenakis, to commissioning and advocating works by contemporary composers such as David Lang, Julia Wolfe, and Steven Mackey, to collaborations with artists who work outside the classical concert hall, including Shara Nova, choreographer Susan Marshall, The National, Bryce Dessner, and many others. Sō has recorded more than twenty albums, including a performance of Reich’s Mallet Quartet on the Nonesuch record WTC 9/11; appeared at Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, Walt Disney Hall, the Barbican, the Eaux Claires Festival, MassMoCA, and TED 2016; and performed with Jad Abumrad, JACK Quartet, the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra, and the LA Phil and Gustavo Dudamel, among others.

In the cinema, the composer must go to meet the filmmakers, enter their world, but without giving up his own. This is the difficulty or the paradox of music for the image. By collaborating with directors from a wide variety of backgrounds, I think I have indirectly discovered a lot about myself. It helped me to progress, to explore territories that were not naturally mine. Cinema is a laboratory where I have sought to construct original orchestral formulas combining Corsican polyphonies, musicians from jazz, variety, classical, or even rappers. Like the world today, a fragmented world where all cultures mingle. So said Bruno Coulais, one of the most innovative composers of contemporary cinema, during the tribute paid to him in 2011 at the Cinémathèque de Paris

In 1978, Bruno Coulais, a young composer of concert works, discovered in film music a new means of expression, a way of bringing the demands of his writing to the masses. François Reichenbach, then Josée Dayan, Jacques Davila, Souleymane Cissé or Laurent Heynemann, first on television and then in the cinema, lead him of his own accord in the discovery of this new world.

In 1995, he composed the music for Microcosmos. This centimeter-scale initiatory journey offers him the opportunity to reveal the full dimension of his writing. He injects into his score a strange lyricism, between wonder and fantasy, confirming the lesson learned from François Reichenbach: "to any documentary image, music brings a part of fiction".

The success of Microcosmos established the musician and made him the indispensable composer of other natural tales, notably alongside Jacques Perrin (Le Peuple migrateur, Oceans, Les Saisons, etc.). Other long-term relationships will be forged, in particular with Benoît Jacquot, with whom he has worked for more than a decade, not to mention Frédéric Schoendoerffer, James Huth or Jean-Paul Salomé.

In addition to great popular successes such as Les Choristes, Brice de Nice or Sur La Piste Du Marsipulami, it is hardly surprising that this insatiable curiosity has found in the animated cinema the most inspiring playgrounds, in particular through his collaboration with two exceptional designers, Henry Selick and Tomm Moore.

The first, American director of The Nightmare Before Christmas produced by Tim Burton, invites Bruno Coulais to sign in 2009 the magnificent score of Coraline (film nominated for the Oscars). 10 years later, he is about to find him for a new and beautiful Wendell & Wild adventure. For Irishman Tomm Moore, Bruno Coulais has already composed the music for two Oscar-nominated films, The Secret of Kells (2009) and Song Of the Sea (2014), and in 2020 he will sign the score for Wolfwalkers.

Whether it is about author's films or more mainstream films, Bruno Coulais maintains the same standards, always considering his art as a window open to the world. Much less wise than it seems, he reveals in it a gift of a modern alchemist and a very personal way of mixing the most diverse cultures in universal harmony at work.

These newly remastered editions of Bill Fox’s second album are the first since its 1998 release, including the first-ever vinyl pressing. Listeners will hear a wider soundstage, more detail, and improved listenability. Recorded on 4-track cassette, the fidelity belies the sophistication and nuance of the songwriting, This adept remaster by John Golden Sr helps bring definition to the intimate, at-home feel of the album. It sparkles.Very similar in feel and quality to Fox’s debut album, much of Transit Byzantium draws from the same group of recordings. It has the same feel of musical inevitability, that the songs exist beyond time itself, their eventual manifestation guaranteed by Apollo. He could’ve given them to the Everly Brothers, or the Byrds, or the Who, but instead they were channeled through an everyman from Cleveland with an aversion to the limelight. And while a traditional folk influence colors several songs, even those possess the indelible stamp of Fox’s charismatic voice and personality. Although nearly entirely acoustic and with minimal percussion, these eighteen songs cycle through a remarkable variety of textures and moods.While much has quite rightly been written about the god-tier songwriting here (“Song of a Drunken Nightingale,” “My Baby Crying,” “I’ll Give It Away” for starters), it should also be noted that this is a guitar player’s record, though more in terms of conception than flash. Lines of harmony and counterpoint wander between parts, sublime in their invention though sometimes crudely documented.