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. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Just under a year after their acclaimed self-titled debut, dreampop duo deary release a brand new six-track EP – Aurelia – via Sonic Cathedral on November 1. It includes the singles ‘The Moth’, ‘Selene’ and ‘The Drift’ and features Slowdive drummer Simon Scott playing on three songs. It will be available on three different vinyl variants, a CD with three bonus tracks and digitally. It’s a stunning record, which displays a new-found maturity in terms of production as well as musically and lyrically. The band – singer Rebecca ‘Dottie’ Cockram and guitarist/producer Ben Easton – have had to grow up in public since the release of their debut single at the start of 2023, supporting legends such as Slowdive and Cranes and TikTok sensations like Wisp along the way. An aurelian is a rare old term for a lepidopterist – someone who studies and collects moths – derived from the Latin aurelia, meaning chrysalis. The perfect title for an EP which is based around the theme of metamorphosis and change. “It leans on the natural world, the human body, the earth and sky as well as human emotion,” says Ben of how the EP represents physical and metaphysical growth. “Change can be daunting but equally exciting, which is something we’ve come to learn.” “While writing the EP, I found a letter I had written to myself when I was 22,” adds Dottie. “I was fresh out of university and had moved back in with my parents as Covid was in full force. I was uninspired and lost and reaching out to my future self for some hope. It was a physical representation of what can happen in a few years; how much can change and how you never know what’s coming next. “I found it interesting that – at the age of 26 – here I was looking back to my younger self for hope or just some comfort in the fact that things will and do move on. It was important to me to bring both of these versions of myself into the new songs.” “Personally, I had noticed a change in myself; a new level of social anxiety, a strange disassociation to things that once brought me joy as well as negative repetitions in my daily life,” reveals Ben. “I began the year sober which allowed me to finish the writing process as a letter of care to my own mental health. There are motifs throughout the EP – for example the riffs in ‘The Moth’ and ‘The Drift’ being reminiscent of each other – which are like musical reflections of these repeated cycles.” It’s musically where the change deary have undergone is most obvious. ‘The Moth’ mixes howling guitars atop a strident breakbeat making it more Curve than Cocteaus; ‘Selene’ is a slow-building wall of noise; ‘The Drift’ combines a perfect pop melody with an incredible sense of urgency. These three singles are balanced by the brief but beautiful ‘Where You Are’ which leads into the Portishead-style trip-hop of ‘Dream Of Me’. The title track has been a staple of their live sets for about a year as ‘Can’t Sleep Tonight’, but its mix of The Cure circa Disintegration and Mezzanine Massive Attack has grown and evolved so much that they renamed it ‘Aurelia’ as the embodiment of the change they have been through. “We’ve allowed deary to naturally grow over the past year, we didn’t want to force it to take a certain shape or sound,” explains Dottie of the duo’s slow and steady approach. “A lot of the last EP was written by sending ideas back and forth over WhatsApp, but this time we were able to sit in the same room and I think that really shows. We know each other a lot better now as we have experienced this journey together and that benefits the writing process as we are more open with each other and can be vulnerable.” “Aurelia definitely feels a lot more collaborative, more personal and more fully realised than the first EP,” concludes Ben. “It feels like a real document of what has been a very important time in both of our lives. Ironically, the band has changed and matured even more since the recording, so we’re both excited to document the next stage

You Are The Morning was formed amid personal upheaval in 2021. "I came out as trans to my nearest and dearest," she says, "Some did not accept me, but some did." Jasmine got divorced, and a difficult home life meant she was writing while experiencing homelessness and precarious housing, sleeping on friend's couches and relying on community support. Despite the pain of some of its background, the record is an uplifting look at t4t love. Jasmine describes her first trans romance as the first time she experienced joy in a deep sense, because of her experience of living as a woman. First single `Skin on Skin' explores the new joy of physical touch. Usually a quick writer, it's a rare song that grew over time, during which a close connection with a friend began to form. "Sticking to the physical boundaries we wanted to have with each other became increasingly difficult. We were spending lots of time together, then falling in love. This song became a celebration of healing and physical catharsis found through unrepressed queer love." The first UK signee on Saddest Factory Records, the album was produced by Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus. Jasmine and her band travelled to L.A. to record at Sound City Studios. It was made across 12 days in a highly collaborative and emotional process, and because Jasmine sees her songs as fluid and ever-changing, the recordings carry that free and spontaneous spirit. jasmine.4.t is supported by an all-trans band, Phoenix Rousiamanis contributes piano and strings, with Eden O'Brien on drums and Emily Abbott on bass. With Jasmine's voice and songwriting at the centre, the record incorporates a wider cast of voices. `Best Friend's House' features a chorus including her bandmates, Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus ("the girls and the boys"), Saddest Factory Records label-mate Claud, Becca Mancari and E.R. Fightmaster. The song carries the communal spirit of the record's creation. On the closing track, `Woman', she is backed by the Trans Chorus of Los Angeles, a cross-generational group of trans singers who, like Jasmine, use their voice as a source of communal power. The song blossoms from solo performance to wider group catharsis. All the while, Jasmine sings unwaveringly about the power of knowing yourself at a core level: "I am, in my soul, a woman". The writing of You Are The Morning pulled from dark moments to tell its story. Surrounded by friends, the recording process was full of light. Through her performances, activism and artistry, jasmine.4.t is ushering in a new dawn.

Diving deeper into the story of Japanese reggae pop, Tokyo Riddim Vol. 2 explores an electronic, new wave and often experimental sound unlike anything Japan or Jamaica had ever heard before.

The first time Ryuichi Sakamoto left Japan, he did not go to the United States or Europe - he went to Jamaica. It was 1978, YMO were about to release their debut album, but Sakamoto was in Kingston, invited to play synths for Japanese idol singer Teresa Noda at Dynamic Sound Studios in a band alongside Neville Hinds and none other than Rita Marley. It’s not a story many know, but one which would spark Sakamoto’s fascination with dub and mark a new chapter in the ongoing Japanese love affair with reggae.

The Teresa Noda tracks they cut - ‘Tropical Love’ and ‘Yellow Moon’ - bookend this second volume of Time Capsule’s Tokyo Riddim compilation, which tells the wider story of how a fascination with Jamrock swept Japan, adding a dash of lime to that sweet city pop sound, embracing a globalised musical palette and creating a whole new genre in the process.

For some, like Sakamoto, a diversion into reggae was part of broader fascination with new sounds and styles, tipped into the global disco of homage and appropriation that made Japanese music of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s some of the most creative and undefinable in the world.

You had iconic shape-shifter Yosui Inoue, who toyed with reggae, afro-beat and electro-Balearic, (and whose For Life Records released several tracks on this comp), and Kay Ishiguro, who enlisted J-reggae originator Pecker on the ambitious Stevie Wonder-esque ‘Red Drip’.

Then there were the Compass Point devotees - producers and musicians alike who were enthralled by the sound of the Bahamas studio and drew on the detached cool of Grace Jones - as heard in the music of Juicy Fruits, and the disco noir of Casablanca-signed femme fatale Yuki Nakayamate. Sometimes, as was the case with Risa Minami, the J-reggae influence said more about Japan than it did about Jamaica.

But where Tokyo Riddim Vol. 1 focused on the city pop sound, this compilation goes further, digging out the more experimental collaborations and hybrids exemplified by Tomoko Aran, who in working with Yusuaki Shimizu and Mariah emphasised just how far reggae had travelled to be recast into something entirely new on the other side of the world.

Perhaps more than anything, in connecting the dots between Tokyo and Kingston, between Jamaica and Japan, the Japanese reggae was building a musical language that existed outside of the paradigms of US and European cultural hegemony - an encounter shaped by commerce, capital and creativity that is now being recognised more broadly for the first time.

“Friends, they are my ticket out of this place I am in… feels like nothing more than a dirt bike vacation stop between Phoenix and San Diego.” Dirt Bike Vacation—for Worried Songs Records—explores the sonic world of the late amateur guitar player, Charles ‘Poppy Bob’ Walker, through a captivating set of instrumental songs made in the mid-1980s. Recorded on a single-track, Marantz field recorder, the project is a transportive document of Walker’s days spent as a meatpacking employee in Yuma, Arizona and the dailiness of that existence: driving to work, sitting in his backyard, walking around drunkenly, unwinding on the couch with a friend. These sketches, showing an experimental tendency, are surprisingly ahead of their time; some exhibit ad hoc tape delay (“Granite Bluffs,” “Goodbye YMCA”), while others make use of primitive overdubbing (“Continuation to Moon Doctor”). Not dissimilar to works such as Bruce Langhorne’s The Hired Hand soundtrack, Walker’s guitar playing is melodic, texturally rich and beautifully sober. On a musical tour from Nashville to Los Angeles, musician-archivist, Cameron Knowler, uncovered these songs from a series of dusty cassette tapes housed at a branch of the Yuma County Library. Originally tipped off by cryptic metadata entries found through an online finding aid, Knowler requested a sound sample and was immediately drawn in by their eerie, yet hopeful nature: “I didn’t care what they sounded like at first, but once I heard just a few seconds, I had to find out everything I could about Charles, who he was, and if he was still alive.” As it turns out, the two had miraculously crossed paths over 20 years prior when Cameron was a young boy accompanying his mother, a gem trader, on a biyearly sojourn to Quartzsite, a town 80 miles north of Yuma: “Charles, sitting down and smoking in a recliner, withdrawn, held what I now understand to be a mid-1990s Martin D-28 guitar. Unlike other old-timers, his instrument was sharply tuned and had a nice sound, even to my young and uncalibrated ears. Though his left hand showed signs of highly developed arthritis, his musical ideas were animated by a palpably deep understanding of fretboard anatomy, arrangement and harmony.” Sorting through the index cards associated with these tapes, Knowler was able to gain a detailed sense of most recording’s provenance, whereabouts and time: Walker’s Datsun pickup truck chugging along boiling hot Interstate 80, the Marine Corps Air Station parking lot, the Eastern Wetlands on the banks of the Colorado River, a fishing trip to Martinez Lake. Trying to reduce the amount of his own subjectivities coloring the work, Cameron constructed titles and track sequences by borrowing information gleaned from Charles’ handwritten notes: “I tried to organize everything by time of day, giving the listener the sense of how a Yuma day might sound and feel like, and each song title—even the record itself—is borrowed from his own words.” This proved no small task, as many notecards had to be deciphered and then coupled with their native tapes which needed extensive restoration treatments. The result is a project very much out of the blue, and one that is intensely personal to Knowler, having grown up in the same town under similar circumstances. “It feels like a part of my own journey as a guitarist reckoning with the defining marks of a gothic border town,” he remarks. “At the time I would’ve met Walker, I didn’t have much outside influence, but he has been in there all the while.” In their current form, the tracks combine to create a sonic journey that boldly contributes to the traditions of acoustic guitar soli, archival digs and field recordings all the same; most importantly, it is a creative document which shows a day-in-the-life of a man grappling with the human experience under a ubiquitous Yuma sun.

For the Northern Soul collector few places rival Detroit as a source for quality, rare records. But Philadelphia comes pretty close and it is the city of brotherly love that produced America's number one independent record label... the mighty Cameo-Parkway. Here, for the first time, we present the very best that that iconic company has to offer.From the Wheel to Wigan, to the Weekender and beyond, the sound of Cameo-Parkway has packed the dance floors across the UK for over 50 years. From the opening bars of Dee Dee Sharp's driving cover of Mel Tormé's Comin' Home Baby' it's easy to see why the label is so highly prized by collectors and dancers alike and why this unique vinyl tribute will touch the hearts of the faithful! All of the classics are here: Chubby Checker, Christine Cooper, Bobby Paris, Yvonne Baker, Bunny Sigler, Jerry Jackson etc etc. The difficulty has been in deciding what to leave out, not what to include, maybe a second volume later in the year One thing is for certain, 1.2 million YouTube viewers just love Cameo-Parkway!

Bobbi Lu is the moniker of Lucy Ryan, born and raised in Oxfordshire in the UK, now living in Bruges after following love a few years ago. As a DIY bedroom producer, she’s released a handful of singles and is now ready with a debut album – ‘Arrow, Four’ – that will be out on 25 October. Drawing inspiration from acts like Radiohead, FKA Twigs, Jockstrap and Saya Grey, Bobbi Lu intertwines piano melodies with deep crunchy bass, electronica and samples, coming together in a dystopian and mysterious sound. As Ryan started gigging, she quickly attracted attention and went from supporting acts like The Haunted Youth and Sylvie Kreusch to playing her own headline shows and amazing festivals like The Great Escape (UK).

‘Arrow, Four’ is a collection of ten songs, written over the course of a few years, the process of each one completely different. “I guess the individual tracks have their own story, but in my head each story is just a symptom of a bigger theme, mostly inspired by the book Future Shock by Alvin Toffler. In it he talks about people’s ability to adapt having essentially a limit, and with growth accelerating could we be overloaded and experience a 'future shock'. And maybe that’s already happening, most notably in the form of mental health struggles.” “It made me think of how progression creates new challenges, an arrow going one way is pulled back by another in the opposite direction. I feel like it’s a topic more relevant than ever, especially with AI most recently. I think I use this topic to fuel my lyrics mainly as a way of forgiving myself and others, in those moments where we struggle and make mistakes, that we're all just doing our best in trying to keep up with a rapidly changing environment.” This is also reflected in the artwork by Maarten Derous. “It ties everything together. He came to me after listening to it and said something that came out for him was fragility, which at the time I completely did not think of. But he nailed it. It’s like, yes do it, be fragile and take it easy, it’s a pretty good answer to stuff being pulled in all directions.”

Limited LEMON Vinyl Edition

DJ MAG:
"Spanning 10 tracks, 'The Fifth Chakra (Ambient Space Tea)' explores sound system culture, covering one of the British-Jamaican artist's biggest influences. The record is largely beatless and focuses on the power of sub-bass and other electronics, moving away from the percussive house energy of much of his past material."


909Originals:
"The largely ambient album is a departure from the thumping beats that Mr G has become famous for, but it also displays his personal, emotional side - tracks like Constant, Solar Eclipse NYC and The 5th Chakra encapsulate an artist allowing himself the freedom to roam through his influences."


Resident Advisor:
"Never did I think I'd get to a meditative place and learn restraint,' he said. "This is the album I've always wanted to make, never thinking I could. Also, after loving others' bass-heavy albums, it's a joy to put my own into the mix. But I always remember my thing is weight and tone in whatever I take on. Especially in this flat, compressed world."

Flame is Slow collects together three acclaimed seven-inch EPs (originally released on the Noisebox label in 1996 and 1997) by the mysterious, mercurial Navigator. The post-Loveless UK underground of the early 1990s was a vibrant place, despite what music biographies may tell you. What might now be lumped together as “post-rock” was in fact a varied and forward-thinking group of artists creating inquisitive music in the wake of the grunge goldrush. Contemporaries such as Hood, Flying Saucer Attack, Movietone and – of course – Mogwai and Arab Strap are rightfully seen as timeless nearly thirty years on but they’re really just the tip of the iceberg. Navigator might get mentioned less but their story is every bit as intriguing as any of their peers. Navigator formed in Norwich in 1994. Their music was consistently introspective and melancholic, but their brief existence of five years saw them move rapidly from traditional song structures towards noise, found sound, free improvisation, electronics, primitive instrument building and – ultimately - silence. They were an enigma back then and they remain so now. They released four seven inches before a solitary album Nostalgie (1997, Swarf Finger Records). Each release felt different to the last but always intimate and peculiar. Their use of sound and space is nothing short of magical. Rough and unsettling textures rub against each other, selected and mixed instinctively. Another band’s discarded mistake becomes a key element in their hands. The band received much acclaim and some genuine commercial success when single When the Wires Fall ended up in the indie charts. They shared stages with Low, David Thomas, Aerial M, Stars Of The Lid and Labradford and toured with Mogwai and Arab Strap culminating in the now-notorious, equipment-levelling performance at The Garage in London. The original version of the group played live for the last time in 1999 before quietly disappearing. It was perhaps inevitable that a band so committed to exploring and refining their sound should end by removing themselves from it entirely. Aside from a brief (and excellent) reformation in 2006 and a CDR compilation of those early seven inches, Navigator have been quiet for over 20 years until now. Flame is Slow assembles the blue, red and green Noisebox EPs into one cohesive album-length collection, remastered with care and reassembled by the band. It rightfully places Navigator where they belong – as one of the most curious, adventurous, and beautiful groups this island has ever produced. “Whenever I think of bands that more people should’ve heard than did, I always think about Navigator. It’s great that the music they made is going to be available again as it is truly special and deserves to be heard by more people” – Stuart Braithwaite

Back in print, on white & purple splatter vinyl!

Hailing from Buffalo, NY, Head North has used their indie-influenced pop-punk to break out of the local scene and demand the attention of a national audience. Packing in sentiments as big as their sound, the band hits home with walls of guitar lines, frenetic punk rock drums and an emotional complexity anchored behind their lyrics. Singer Brent Martone hits raspy notes of anger and sadness, knowing when to shriek and when to soften, adding a layer of versatile energy to back up his passion.

RIYL: The Dangerous Summer, Brand New, Have Mercy

Blending elements of post-hardcore, emo and Southern-tinged indie rock, Microwave balance frankness with a penchant for wit, allowing for seemingly standard personal confessions to make a significant and striking impact. While often tipping into the heavier side of resonant punk, the band shines brightest in soft reservation. Their self-released debut album Stovall feels like a snapshot in time, bringing to mind that same unforgettable feeling that albums like Jimmy Eat World’s Bleed American, Manchester Orchestra’s I’m Like A Virgin Losing A Child and Taking Back Sunday’s Tell All Your Friends did years ago.

RIYL: Manchester Orchestra, All Get Out, Taking Back Sunday"

Katie Gavin's debut What A Relief taps into the unguarded self-possession and homespun pop sensibility of singers like Alanis Morissette, Fiona Apple and Ani DiFranco, and uses their tenacity as a north star for Gavin's own trek towards self-discovery. "This record spans a lot of my life - it's about having a really deep desire for connection, but also encountering all the obstacles that stood in my way to be able to achieve that, patterns of isolation or even boredom with the real work of love" they say. Written over the course of seven years, What A Relief comprises a set of songs that Gavin always loved but which "had something in them" that she and her bandmates felt didn't quite fit within the universe they were trying to cultivate with MUNA. Many of them were written on acoustic guitar, and are rooted in "a style of music that's very much in my blood, and natural for me," as typified by the Women & Songs CDs that Gavin loves, which compiled music by artists like Tracy Chapman, Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan. That openness of spirit is the overwhelming character of What A Relief, an album that's refreshing in its willingness to accept people as they come, even as it remains in dogged pursuit of a life that's kinder, wiser and more loving. Gavin's explorations of desire and intimacy feel time-worn and necessary - songs that might teach a generation if not how to live, exactly, then at least how to look within oneself for guidance about how to move forward.

Katie Gavin's debut What A Relief taps into the unguarded self-possession and homespun pop sensibility of singers like Alanis Morissette, Fiona Apple and Ani DiFranco, and uses their tenacity as a north star for Gavin's own trek towards self-discovery. "This record spans a lot of my life - it's about having a really deep desire for connection, but also encountering all the obstacles that stood in my way to be able to achieve that, patterns of isolation or even boredom with the real work of love" they say. Written over the course of seven years, What A Relief comprises a set of songs that Gavin always loved but which "had something in them" that she and her bandmates felt didn't quite fit within the universe they were trying to cultivate with MUNA. Many of them were written on acoustic guitar, and are rooted in "a style of music that's very much in my blood, and natural for me," as typified by the Women & Songs CDs that Gavin loves, which compiled music by artists like Tracy Chapman, Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan. That openness of spirit is the overwhelming character of What A Relief, an album that's refreshing in its willingness to accept people as they come, even as it remains in dogged pursuit of a life that's kinder, wiser and more loving. Gavin's explorations of desire and intimacy feel time-worn and necessary - songs that might teach a generation if not how to live, exactly, then at least how to look within oneself for guidance about how to move forward.

Red Vinyl. Listening to Fashion Club's self-produced second album A Love You Cannot Shake feels like being caught in the crossfire of a profound beam of light. You can't help but feel both enlivened and exposed as its aberrant synth lines, artful strings and disfigured guitars swell into larger-than-life crescendos, which evoke a divine yet probing spotlight. Pascal Stevenson, the Los Angeles-based musician behind Fashion Club, likens the experience of hearing A Love You Cannot Shake to staring into the sun, and though the record wasn't written with religion in mind, its heavenly sonics and emotional sagacity also make it feel like a prophetic encounter. The album was shaped by Stevenson's gender transition and sobriety journey and parses her fluid emotions surrounding these events and other personal trials and tribulations. But as much as it's a dialogue between Stevenson's current and former selves, it's also an invitation for listeners to join her in the work of discarding bitterness and re-centering hope, especially when such efforts feel futile. Musically, A Love You Cannot Shake is an unshackling of expectations, as Stevenson's previous stint as bassist in the L.A. post-punk outfit Moaning and her first record as Fashion Club, 2022's Scrutiny, didn't necessarily reflect the full range of her taste, which includes ambient, pop, classical and dance music, or embody her sensitive tenderness and femininity. A Love You Cannot Shake also thrives on a fluid sonic palette. The album's magnetic immersiveness hinges on its strange dynamic shifts, jagged production and ambitious song structures with parts that don't repeat_choices influenced by her love of left-field electro-pop and her classical music background. While Stevenson handled most of the instrumentals on Scrutiny, this LP is much more collaborative, featuring an array of contributors who lent strings, piano, pedal steel and more. Plus, this album boasts country harmonies from Perfume Genius ("Forget"), high-pitched coos from Jay Som ("Ghost") and gauzy whispers from Julie Byrne ("Rotten Mind"). Stevenson's vocal evolution is also on display with this record, embracing a softer delivery that's more reflective of her personality and identity.

Heated Garage is a sonic snapshot of what happened when boundless musical energy and middle American moxie combined to create a cultural phenomenon. The tracks are drawn from a vast archive of Kay Bank master tapes - some are ultra rarities you’d be hard pressed to snatch from the collectors’ market without mortgaging a kidney. Others are alternate versions and outtakes never before released in any form! “The joke was, some bands didn’t become garage bands because it was too damn cold...you can’t go outside when it’s 25 below zero. So, a lot of people are honing their craft in their basements.” High Spirits guitarist Owen Husney explains. Knowing more about them is not only unnecessary, it would mar their mystique. They exist forever in a moment of raw rock ‘n’ roll glory that transcends time, a space shared by their Heated Garage brethren. Looking back on The Pagans’ songs, for example, Kip Sullivan says, “They feel sacred to me.” Recollecting his High Spirits adventures, Owen Husney sighs, “I would go back to those heydays in a minute.” Now he can. And we can all come along.

Recorded in Memphis, 1960-62 by Home of the Blues Record Company – sixteen tracks of vintage rocking Memphis blues that went unissued at the label’s demise and were lost in a warehouse, ultimately rediscovered and released by Acoustic Archives.

All now remastered to perfection by Oz Fritz and a team of A&R experts working with the original masters, including ones made by Sam Phillips Recording Studios in Memphis.

Featuring the superb arrangements of trumpeter Willie Mitchell, accompanying some of the best singers of the day, with guitar by Sammy Lawhorn, bass by Lewi Steinberg and drums by AI Jackson Jr. Recorded in glorious mono by Scotty Moore at Sam Phillips Recording Service.

Each artist bio had been thoroughly researched under the guidance of Acoustic Archives producer Marc Ryan with the assistance of Dr. Dave Evans, head musicologist at Memphis State U. The story provided in the 12-page booklet includes how these cuts eventually surfaced from the early 1960s and features the photos and commentary on the recording artists, with how the original owners of the Home of The Blues Record Shop, once at 107 Beale Street, worked at the recordings.

Hank Dogs – Andy Allan, his partner Piano and Lily, Andy’s daughter from a previous relationship - started out at folk clubs in London in the early 1990s before going worldwide in 1998 when legendary producer and late 60s Folk Rock guru, Joe Boyd declared them the first British act he'd loved in 30 years. Their debut album ‘Bareback’ saw them touring the US with Joan Baez and winning fans with their quiet, haunting sound featuring ethereal vocal harmonies, strong traces of blues and Celtic music and Allan’s fluid acoustic finger-picking recalling UK folk guitarists such as John Renbourn. Another part of their appeal, particularly in the States, was their ‘Carter Family’ image but then, when Andy and Piano split-up in real life, so did the band. A follow up album ‘Half Smile’ appeared in 2002 but this turned out to be their swansong. However, the story was not quite over yet.. a third unreleased album ‘Fiveways’ had been recorded before they went their separate ways and now it’s finally seeing the light of day on South London label Scratchy Records, plus the band are re-uniting for some long overdue gigs to celebrate the release. ‘Fiveways’ contains much of the Hank Dogs’ trademark English folk/US country-straddling sound. Piano’s voice bounces between early Suzanne Vega, Tracey Thorn and Mary Margaret O’Hara with occasional hints of Dolores Cranberry and Bridget St. John, while underneath the acoustic guitars run freeform tangled and Lily’s backing vocals add sky. Stand out track ‘Logic’ with its pensive lyrics and haunting guitar line recalls the way Suzanne Vega (her again) could sometimes make songs stand still in their tracks but it’s the dreamy ‘Nut’ that really captures the mood “You had me when I was sweet as a nut.. Not sweet enough” sings Piano. This is the sound of two ex-lovers still able to work together but unable to hide the odd dig here and there.. like a follow up album a couple of years later on from ‘Blood On The Tracks’. Andy sings a few songs too including the raggedy, swashbuckling ‘Gazetteer’ revolving around a ‘Pre-CBS Maple neck Sunburst bought off The Pretty Things’ and hinting at a whole lifetime of music biz escapades from watching his dad Elkan Allan produce 60s TV show ‘Ready Steady Go’ to a stint on bass in The Professionals along with Steve Jones and Paul Cook. Next year the story carries on with his long-running South East London ‘Easycome’ club night featuring in US TV queen Lena Dunham’s new Netflix series ‘Too Much’. Towards the end of the album an angelic setting of Dylan Thomas’s ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ in the song ‘Nod’ recalls Christmas TOTP number ones from days gone by and captures Hank Dogs ability to transport the listener. This album is definitely one for the dreamers. FFO Pentangle, The Innocence Mission and William Blake

We bring you one of the best unreleased tunes we have had the pleasure of uncovering. "Come Down" was made in the same sessions as Kong's massive "He Was a Friend" (reissued by DKR back in 2010), and never released until now. Pure uptempo digital fire.

*Update - Sept. 2024: Some may remember that the mixdown of the version side of this tune had the bass drop out early on and never come back. This was odd and maybe even a mistake in the mix? But none the less, due to a puritanical impulse, we didn't trouble it. For this second time around for this 45, thru the miracles of modern science, the bassline has been added back to ride thru the verison side.

RUN-DMC DOWN WITH THE KING 30th ANNIVERSARY Pressed On Red, White and Black Double Colored Vinyl With Commemorative Numbered OBI Limited To 2000 Copies Thirty years ago on May 4, 1993, Run-DMC made one of the greatest comebacks in Hip-Hop history with the release of their 6th studio album Down With The King. To understand the significance of this feat we have to go back a few years. Coming off an amazing four-album run ending with the platinum album Tougher Than Leather, Run-DMC released their 5th studio album, Back From Hell, to lackluster sales. Did Run-DMC fall off? Did the emergence of gangsta rap push them off to the side? It was sad to see your Hip-Hop heroes take a fall. Then in 1991, a 12-inch remix came out for the single "Back From Hell" featuring Chuck D and Ice Cube and fans took notice. It would be two more years before anyone would hear from Run-DMC again. In March of 1993, a new single and video “Down With The King” debuted on Yo! MTV Raps featuring the new Hip-Hop Gods Pete Rock and CL Smooth paying homage to The Kings calling back verses from Sucker MCs over a dope signature Pete Rock beat. The video would be in constant rotation on Ralph McDaniels Video Music Box, YO!, BET’s Rap City and more. Fans watched it over and over to catch all the cameos, everyone from Eazy-E to the Native Tongues Family of De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest. The anticipation was building, but would the album live up to the lead single that knocked it out of the park? On May 4, 1993, the album dropped on CD, Cassette, and Vinyl. Run-DMC enlisted The Bomb Squad from Public Enemy, Q-Tip, EPMD, Jermaine Dupri, Kay Gee of Naughty By Nature, and Pete Rock to produce the album with a special appearance by Tom Morello rocking out his guitar emulating DJ scratches he made famous with Rage Against The Machine. Their rhyming was as enthusiastic and powerful as they were on their debut album 10 years prior. Run-DMC, the self-proclaimed Kings of Rock and original Kings of Hip Hop were indeed back. The album debuted at #1 on the R&B/Hip-Hop charts and #7 on the Billboard 200 and would go Gold within two months. Get On Down is proud to present for the first time on vinyl since its original release, a 30 Year Anniversary pressing on double-colored vinyl with numbered OBI in a gatefold jacket.

. By his early 20s, Kurious was already an in-demand voice on the mic. His 1994 major label debut album, A Constipated Monkey, is a classic of its style, marked by heavy beats and nimble rhymes that are razor-sharp yet frequently hilarious. Despite being hailed as one of hip-hop's most compelling lyricists, he didn't release another solo IP for the rest of that decade, but he continued to be sought after. Rap fans the world over know him for his verse on "?," one of the standout songs from his longtime friend and collaborator MF DOOM's heralded Operation: Doomsday. As he prepares for the release of his new album, Majician-the nickname his peers blessed him with a generation ago-Kurious is well on his way to establishing the legacy he's long deserved. The LP, which was executive produced by MF DOOM before his passing, is a mesmerizing blend of technical wizardry and personal introspection. Take "Eye of Horus," where the pulsing drums convey an urgency that borders on panic; Kurious weaves a complex tapestry of history and insight, but does so while ducking through and under each pocket in the beat. Produced in its entirety by Mono En Stereo, Majician is filled with songs like "Eye of Horus," which dance on the line between confession and confrontation. "Separation Anxiety" is a personal bloodletting in the form of lyrical exercise; "Par For the Course," which features the elusive Mr. Fantastik, makes drum breaks from the early Reagan era sound totally revitalized. Through the radical amount of work Kurious put into the writing and recording of this material, he's removed all ambiguity from the question of whether he can stand as one of the premier MCs of his time.

“A huge thing for this record was to make it feel as close to our live show as possible,” says Tom Sharkett of W.H. Lung’s latest album. “We didn’t want it to sound live but we wanted to capture the excitement of the live performances.”

This is something that has become paramount to the group in recent years as they have undeniably blossomed into one of the most joyous and arresting live bands in the country. “The reason I’m in a band is to play live music,” says singer Joe Evans. “For me, music is live music. That’s what it’s for, to be played with people.”

The five-piece band, also featuring Chris Mulligan, Hannah Peace, and Alex Mercer-Main, decided to try something new on their third album after two incredibly successful collaborations with previous producer Matt Peel. In order to capture the energy, spirit and dynamism of their live shows, they relocated to Sheffield to work with Ross Orton (MIA, Arctic Monkeys, Working Men’s Club) who was able to harness this side of the band to remarkable effect. “Ross is the Sheffield Steve Albini,” says Evans. “He’s the king of not overthinking it and trusting the process of the art of recording songs. He was always there to stop us fucking around with cerebral stuff and get it down.” Sharkett echoes this too: “He was the exact producer we needed without us even realising. His productions and mixes are bombastic, lively and in your face and that’s exactly what we wanted.”

However, while this album is rooted in a sense of capturing a moment and a sparky liveness, that’s not to say it’s a raw or ragged record. It is still a meticulously composed, delicately layered and pristinely produced piece of work that, in true W.H. Lung style, runs the gauntlet from dance to pop to indie while still capturing that distinctly unique quality that is unquestionably their own. “It was a really big thing for me to realise what made us sound like us on this record,” says Sharkett. “I think the album sounds a lot more confident and self assured because of it. Some songs sound just so much like Lung and I’m really proud of that. I’m not sure we’ve done that as consistently across the other records.”

While the band have drilled deeper into finding their own singular identity, it’s not a record resting on its laurels. It’s a significant leap forward, expanding on their solid foundations while also breaking new ground. “The big difference with this record is its directness in every sense,” says Sharkett. “The songwriting is more upfront. Previously we’d focused a lot on vibe and production as opposed to just writing songs. The overall mission here was to revert to a classic songwriting structure and for the production to come afterwards.” And so what you have on this record are deeply considered and well-crafted songs, then recorded with blistering intensity in the moment, and then given a touch of experimentation afterwards. Then throw in Orton’s contributions to the band and it’s proven to be a real winning formula. “He brought a real dose of magic to the songs we’d written,” says Sharkett. “And brought an extra bit of wonk and quirkiness each time.”

The band’s ability to write more traditional and conventional songs is clearly a skill they’ve taken to with ease, at times there’s an almost Springsteen-like quality – but if he'd ever had an ecstasy period – to tracks such as ‘Thinner Wine’ and ‘Bloom and Fade’. While ‘How to Walk’ was constructed with one thing only in mind: that it would absolutely slay on stage. “I can’t wait to play this live,” says Evans. “We wanted a song to represent our live set, a new big one, and this is it.” Once again it leans towards the anthemic, with its driving, propulsive charge complete with incandescent synths and vocal melodies so irresistible you can already hear them being sung in unison by a crowd.

It’s an incredibly difficult feat to pull off a record that is more rooted in traditional songcraft while also capturing the power of a live performance, as well as pushing sonics into experimental new directions while working with a brand new collaborator. But here the band has managed to do just that. And the album’s closing song ‘I Will Set Fire To The House’ is a perfect example of such a thing. It’s a song that feels immaculately constructed but also very much alive and of the moment as its radiating synths engulf from the off, and Evans’ vocal is silky but powerful and in perfect symbiosis with Peace’s. It’s a song that captures the endless joys of music playing long into the night. “It may be a bit of a bloody bombastic way to end an album saying ‘and we’ll dance into the sunrise’,” says Evans. “But fuck it.”

MORE PRESS ON ‘VANITIES’ (MELO131)

"Vanities artily refines an exhilarating brand of up-front electro-dance" MOJO ⅘

'Idiosyncratic yet euphoric electronic pop on triumphant second LP' 9/10 Uncut

''One of the most effective alternative pop albums of the year'' 4/5 Record Collector
'Dance music for the modern age' - The Times (4*)

The 25th anniversary edition of Mariah Carey’s multi-platinum selling record, Rainbow has been pressed on rainbow vinyl and includes rare photos from the era. Rainbow is Mariah’s seventh studio album, with #1 hits, “Heartbreaker” (ft. Jay-Z), “Thank God I Found You” (ft. Joe & 98 Degrees), the globally successful cover of "Against All Odds" plus more fan favorites. This deluxe album also features several bonus tracks including, ‘Rainbow’s End,’ a brand-new recording.

The 25th anniversary edition of Mariah Carey’s multi-platinum selling record, Rainbow has been pressed on rainbow vinyl and includes rare photos from the era. Rainbow is Mariah’s seventh studio album, with #1 hits, “Heartbreaker” (ft. Jay-Z), “Thank God I Found You” (ft. Joe & 98 Degrees), the globally successful cover of "Against All Odds" plus more fan favorites. This deluxe album also features several bonus tracks including, ‘Rainbow’s End,’ a brand-new recording.

It's been nearly a decade since Montreal's PYPY (pronounced like 'π π'...with a long 'i' rather than long 'e', thank you very much) landed with their debut Pagan Day (Slovenly), but the same lunatics behind CPC Gangbangs, Red Mass and Duchess Says are back with Sacred Times on Goner Records. One might recall the thunderous pop of their banger "She's Gone" carving out a place for itself in the high-end fashion world, becoming the soundtrack to Yves Saint Laurent's 2016 show. If that album bounced, punched and clawed like Delta 5 covered in dirt and trying to get somewhere in a booted vehicle while dodging lightning rod guitar licks the whole way, Sacred Times takes things to somewhere far beyond the proverbial "next level."

Co-vocalist/founder/multi-instrumentalist Annie-Claude Deschênes' (Duchess Says) signature howl and vocal acrobatics are present but so is a tendency towards beautiful melodies. Bassist Philippe Clement's (Duchess Says) brings a nastier bottom end that locks onto Simon Besré's drumming with a death grip for the entire affair. And guitarist/co-vocalist Roy Vucino (Red Mass, CPC Gangbangs, Black Leather Rose, Les Sexareenos, a gazillion others) goes bonkers with wildass blown-out guitar that's like hornets caught in yr hair.

"Lonely Striped Sock" grooves along like "Earthbeat"-era Slits/ESG until the chorus transforms PYPY into something else entirely. Something huge. Something with monster riffs and wah wah that pins you to the back wall. So there is clearly a brilliance with dynamics here, and it proves to be a not-so-secret-weapon that repays the "ear-vestment" in dividends throughout. "Ear-vestment"? Yikes. Then it's time for "She's Back," a sort of part 2/continuation (maybe a trilogy is in the works?) of Pagan Day's best-known gem (the aforementioned "She's Gone"). This one packs a hook that'll make your brain take out a restraining order. Looking for lost keys? Jury duty? Underwater welding? Negotiating a hostage situation? It doesn't matter...nothing will stop it from invading your thoughts. They say the only way to get a song unstuck from the noodle is to listen to it from start to finish, but you'll be doing that anyway. A lot. "Erase" is a (synth) noise-punk nugget; revealing a need for Brainiac-meets-Blondie we didn't know we had...deceptively kicking off with a no-fi drum machine that is immediately lost in the massive pop din that seemingly includes everything within reach. "Poodle Escape" is two minutes of perfect (and perfectly distorted) synth-punk and "I Am A Simulation" – with lead vox from Vucino – is yet another hit that deviates from the noise a bit and pays homage to both Devo and classic late-70's (big) power-pop (ex: the first Cars LP), but with a manic nature that is 150% circa right now. "15 Sec" (actually 3:38 in duration, thankfully) serves up a stanky-brown bass line, Deschênes' gorgeous vocals, wonderfully combative white hot, pin-the-meters Oh Sees/early Comets on Fire guitar rips, and a stunning coda that seems to utilize everything great about this band over its final minute. The album's title track is a love letter to Hawkwind in the musical language already established here. "Vanishing Blinds" is like being chased through the rain-soaked streets in an unknown dystopian nightmare from 40+ years ago. The album closes with the brooding if not playful menace of "Poodle Escape,” which, like its predecessors, is completely unlike every track before it.

Synth pop trio Bronski Beat's 1984 debut The Age of Consent is a rarity in musical history - an album that both defined a generation and challenged the status quo. Its four singles, and particular lead single 'Smalltown Boy', have endured with astonishing resonance, offering home to all listeners dreaming of escape from their familiar surroundings and situations.

Every track on the album places the listener 'in the room': they are in it, living it, rolling inside each song's thematic meaning. Through the blue-eyed wonder of singer Jimmy Somerville's vocal pirouettes, they too take the punch of hate in 'Why?', question the bible with alongside a male voice choir on 'It Ain't Necessarily So', and watch the same crappy TV advertising on 'Junk'. They are part of the trade-off between lust and commerce in 'Love and Money' and the heated near climax of 'Need A Man Blues.'

40 years later and The Age of Consent remains as prescient and vital as ever as it did on its original release; truly transgressive - defiant, queer, and laden with hooks. To celebrate this important anniversary, London Records revisit the album across a series of expanded formats, uncovering sonic archival gems, new mixes, essays and more.

Third Man Records geben mit großer Freude das Signing des australischen Vierers The Belair Lip Bombs und die Neuauflage ihres 2023 erschienenen
Durchbruchsalbums Lush Life bekannt.
Das Album fängt ein breites Indie-Songwriting ein, das von Maisie Everett (Gitarre, Tasten, Gesang) geleitet und von einem talentierten Trio von
Musikern in Mike Bradvica (Gitarren), Liam De Bruin (Schlagzeug) und Jimmy Droughton (Bass) ergänzt wird.
Mit den bisherigen Singles „Stay Or Go“, „Gimme Gimme“ und „Say My Name“ ist Lush Life ein perfektes Album, in das sich Ersthörer vertiefen
können.
„Die Art von druckvoller, hookgeladener Rockplatte, die kaum noch gemacht wird, geradlinig im Sound, aber nehazu unangreifbar in ihrer
Konstruktion.“ The Guardian, Ones To Watch
„Energie und Experimentierfreude kollidieren auf einem aufregenden Debüt.“ **** NME

Fohn brings connection, displacement and new identities into the moment, on pastoral debut album Seanteach - informed by island life, marine folklore and musical tradition.

Connection to the land, the severing of earthly ties, explorations of environment, mythos and generational memory: under the moniker of Fohn, English violinist and producer Tom Connolly (Quade, AD93) takes to the fiddle on which he learned his craft as a child. Forging new bonds with his family’s island home off the coastal west of Ireland, their story is retold in Seanteach (Irish for ‘old house’), released on Odda Recordings.

“Seanteach explores the nature of my relationship with Ireland, and Connemara in particular, where my dad’s family is from,” explains Connolly, speaking on a long-form work that blends new compositions on traditional Irish fiddle with ambient electronics and evocative field recordings.

“It explores how the island of Maighinis became an almost mythological space for me, growing up in England - we would spend every summer there, but it felt equally present for me when we were back in the UK, a sort of mental solace that I found through music especially.”

Each track on the album is a reflection of aspects of that relationship to island life - where physical features intersect with mythology. Such as, ‘Boreen’, named after a colloquial term for rural byroads sometimes shared with otherworldly neighbours. ‘Aisling at Sea’ draws on the primal, unstoppable momentum of the water, while the folklore of ‘Immram’ reflects on generationally-kept tales of marine bravery and supernatural accomplishment.

“The compositions often sit at the fraying edges of memories I’ve inherited from my own experiences, that of family lore, or from stories that I have come across. I wanted the compositions to tread the space between documentation and fantasy that feels so reflective of my relationship with this place.”

Tying these worlds together is the presence and memory of Connolly’s ‘Mamó’ (Irish for grandmother), Bríd. Despite passing during Connolly’s childhood, this “larger-than-life character” shaped his imagination with anecdotes and stories, representing both a familiar figure, and the poignancies of potential and regret.

“Even at a young age I sensed a sadness emanating from her. Through a series of unfortunate and fortunate circumstances, she found herself leaving Ireland and settling in Boston like so many others. Under the impression she was an illegal immigrant in the US she didn’t return to Ireland for decades.”

‘Between the Shoreline and the Gorse’ channels her early childhood, born to a large Catholic family in the island’s ‘Seanteach’, and cast adrift from her old life - a severance of ties that Connolly attempts to make ethereal amends for, with the album named for her family home.

“It’s something that feels so visibly prominent in Connemara with its landscapes charcoaled with deserted ruins. It’s a feeling I also experience, despite never having lived in Ireland, which prompted me to want to explore the idea of longing for something/somewhere ‘un-experienced’, and to a certain extent, fictionalised.”

Forgive Yourself. Learn to live with yourself. Don't hurt yourself. This is the mantra of the new album Venus Smiles Not in the House of Tears from Samora Pinderhughes. Made over 8 years with loving detail by Pinderhughes and his longtime producer Jack DeBoe, it is a deeply personal exploration & reflection of mental health in the modern age. It tells a non-linear story about a relationship that didn't last, and the lessons learned through it. How can love exist when grief is in the way? Musically it's intentionally tough to pin down. Although Pinderhughes is Juilliard-trained, Venus is an open-genre exploration of musicmaking with wide-ranging production and a cinematic landscape of feeling and spirit. From quiet, contemplative piano pieces to hard-hitting and soulful full band jams, to expansive and fullthroated choir celebrations, Venus is a fitting accompaniment to a multitude of daily human experiences. It also features artists from Pinderhughes's tight-knit NYC community, representing a wave of new artists who thread the ethics of honesty & vulnerability into their work. Says Pinderhughes of the album, "Mental health isn't solitary; it's about how our feelings, fears, traumas, and conceptions of self meet the world around us. Like so many, I've struggled with depression, anxiety, and isolation within a complicated matrix of identities. I wanted to make a project that would be brutally and lovingly honest about what it feels like to try to sift through the debris of time. A project that really engages with what it means to love, in the midst of a society that teaches us all the wrong lessons. Our modern world wants us to get over things quickly and easily. That's where shame enters the picture, because when you struggle with deep cyclical feelings, the process of engaging with these elements in your life is never linear. It is always two steps forward, one step back. Kindness and honesty are required in equal measure in this life. Hopefully through the prism of these songs, you can feel something that resonates with you in your own life and experience." Pinderhughes is known for striking intimacy and carefully crafted, radically honest lyrics alongside high-level musicianship, and for using his music to examine sociopolitical issues and fight for change. His work delves into the things our society tries to hide - its history, its structures, and the things we all experience but don't know how to talk about. It is an invitation to feel and think deeply about how we live and a commitment to making art that is useful for everyday life. The New York Times described Pinderhughes' 2022 album GRIEF as a "visionary" work from "one of the most affecting singer-songwriters today, in any genre." Pinderhughes - a collaborator across boundaries with artists including Herbie Hancock, Glenn Ligon, Sara Bareilles, Common, Robert Glasper - is the creator and director of The Healing Project, a project that examines trauma & healing from incarceration, detention, and structural violence. Pinderhughes was the first-ever Art for Justice + Soros Justice Fellow and a recipient of Chamber Music America's 2020 Visionary Award. He is also a United States Artist Fellow, Creative Capital awardee, and Sundance Composers Lab fellow.

Third Man Records geben mit großer Freude das Signing des australischen Vierers The Belair Lip Bombs und die Neuauflage ihres 2023 erschienenen
Durchbruchsalbums Lush Life bekannt.
Das Album fängt ein breites Indie-Songwriting ein, das von Maisie Everett (Gitarre, Tasten, Gesang) geleitet und von einem talentierten Trio von
Musikern in Mike Bradvica (Gitarren), Liam De Bruin (Schlagzeug) und Jimmy Droughton (Bass) ergänzt wird.
Mit den bisherigen Singles „Stay Or Go“, „Gimme Gimme“ und „Say My Name“ ist Lush Life ein perfektes Album, in das sich Ersthörer vertiefen
können.
„Die Art von druckvoller, hookgeladener Rockplatte, die kaum noch gemacht wird, geradlinig im Sound, aber nehazu unangreifbar in ihrer
Konstruktion.“ The Guardian, Ones To Watch
„Energie und Experimentierfreude kollidieren auf einem aufregenden Debüt.“ **** NME

Rubblebucket’s new album explores one particular year from the band’s past known as the Year Of The Banana. Frontwoman Kalmia Traver has a personal practice of naming each year since 2011. However, in 2015 (Year Of The Banana) Kalmia’s romantic relationship with Rubblebucket co-founder Alex Toth fell apart, and that year was spent peeling off psychological layers in search of the sweetness that would allow the friendship, and the band, to continue. “People get obsessed with the albums that were never finished because the band couldn’t stay together,” Kalmia says. “But Year Of The Banana is the album that did get finished.” So Rubblebucket is celebrating 15 years as a band with a record about the year it almost ended. Rubblebucket is still a through-and-through art rock dance band, virtuosic experimental musicians with a pop sensibility along the lines of Talking Heads, Prince, or Kate Bush. But there’s nothing retro about Rubblebucket’s sound; they’re mixing electronics with real instruments, especially horn sections (Alex plays trumpet, Kalmia sax) and they feel at home in the same universe as Caroline Polachek, SZA, or Chappell Roan. Listening to Year Of The Banana, it’s impossible to overlook how joyful it is, how full of hope. The album speaks to the power of transforming and adapting relationships in a time when the world needs it most. The album has a transforming effect, inspiring us to face ourselves and radically keep loving each other, assuring us that the unpredictable process has potential to feel as free and sweet as peeling a banana on the dance floor.

Nour Mobarak’s Dafne Phono is an adaptation of the first opera, Dafne, composed and written by Jacopo Peri and Ottavio Rinuccini in 1598. Drawing on the myth of Daphne and Apollo from Ovid’s Metamorphoses—a story of unrequited love, patriarchal possession, conquest, and transformation—Mobarak’s multimedia and multispecies reimagining splinters the opera’s Italian libretto. Alongside English and Greek versions, it is translated into some of the world’s most phonetically complex languages—Abkhaz, San Juan Quiahije Eastern Chatino, Silbo Gomero, and !Xoon. In this process, the narrative—and an artifact of Western culture—is dismantled, metabolized, and rendered into unruly utterances that shape the sensorium as much as they do the capacity for sense-making. These voices are given material form by a cast of mycelium sonic sculptures whose rhizomatic compositions and broadcasted recordings resemble the formation and mutation of language over time, reconstituting speech into a new, polyphonic body politic, composed of voices whose striking, poetic utterances transfix and transcend meaning.

The A-Side of the record presents a stereo version of Mobarak’s 15-channel sound installation, Dafne Phono. The B-Side uses a recording of a portion of the translation process the libretto underwent in Namibia, live-processed by the artist.

The LP is published on the occasion of Nour Mobarak’s exhibition at The Museum of Modern Art, New York (October 26, 2024–January 12, 2025), with support from Sylvia Kouvali.

Artist Bio:
Nour Pamela Mobarak (Lebanese-American, b. 1985, Cairo, Egypt) lives and works between Los Angeles; Bainbridge Island; and Athens, Greece. Her works have been shown at Sylvia Kouvali (formerly Rodeo), London/Paris; Schinkel Pavillon, Berlin; MIT List Visual Arts Center, Cambridge, MA; Amant, Brooklyn; JOAN, Los Angeles; Kim? Contemporary Art Centre, Riga; Miguel Abreu Gallery, New York; Hakuna Matata, Los Angeles; and Cubitt Gallery, London. Exhibitions at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, and Castello di Tivoli Museo d’Arte Contemporanea, Turin, are forthcoming. She has performed at Western Front, Vancouver; 2220, the Hammer Museum, and LAXART, Los Angeles; Cafe OTO, London; Renaissance Society, Chicago; the Museum of Contemporary Art, San Diego; and elsewhere. Her music has been released by Recital (Los Angeles), Cafe OTO’s TakuRoku (London), and Ultra Eczema (Antwerp), and she has had sessions on BBC Radio 3, NTS Radio, and Dublab Radio. Mobarak’s writing has been published in Triple Canopy, F.R. David, The Claudius App, and the Salzburg Review, and her first catalog, Sphere Studies and Subterranean Bounce was published by Recital (2021). She received a BA in English and Media Studies from Sussex University and did further studies at Université Paris-Sorbonne, Paris IV. She has held residencies at Denniston Hill, New York and the Institute of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles, and was the recipient of the 2023 FOCA fellowship award. Mobarak was a 2024 faculty at Bard College MFA program.

Dafne Phono Vocalists:
Apollo: Renato Grieco (Italian)
Cupid: Arnou Argun (Abkhaz)
Dafne: Agnes | xaye (!Xoon)
Ovid: Olivia O’Dwyer (Latin)
Venus: Don Eugenio Darias (Silbo Gomero)
Abkhaz Chorus: Liana Ebzhnou, Murman Guaramia, Fatima Kharzalia, and Gunda Osia
Chatino Chorus: Felix Daniel Peña Mendes, José Vasquez Canseco, Catalina Candelario Matias, and Claudia Garcia Baltazar
!Xoon Chorus: Franco Tsame, John Djujui Klosi Barase, and Charity Tsame
Clarinet: Steve Kado

mindSET is the ninth album from enigmatic producer SW., directly following this summer’s excursion into his trademark techno, IDM and bleep soundscapes, on the myDEFINITIONS Vol II album. But with his mindSET album SW. takes a left turn, as pioneers often do, and we find ourselves on the lesser traveled side roads of electronic music history. Or in SW.’s own words: “the more abstract leftfield elements.”
It’s in these less-defined areas that SW. finds his sweet spot, building dancefloor soundtracks that defied definition. And with mindSET the sounds and the machines might have changed, the methodology remains the same.
“It draws from what was more generally seen in leftfield as a term for the slightly off-kilter house and broken beats that didn’t fit neatly into classic genres, whether that was Chicago house, French garage, drum and bass, or broken beat. It’s more about those in-between sounds that never really took off, only appearing briefly in the early to mid-90s and then quickly disappearing. There was a certain magic in that moment, which I wanted to capture. Also, the entire album was produced using classic analog equipment, with old machines that were used during that era. That’s the approach I’ve taken.”
The eight tracks on mindSET are shaped out of de-tuned techno pop synths and heavy, syncopated drums, grooving along chopped-up polymeters to create an eerie mood, as if orbiting an undiscovered planet for the first time. The harmonic movements are often bent out of shape, sometimes veering towards Gherkin Jerks or Cristian Vogel territory. But in the end, the sounds are less important than the atmosphere, and the tracks represent an attitude or an approach - to creating the music as well as experiencing it. mindSET is a nod to those dancers sharing an oddball moment, and for those of us on the same wavelength, it's a vibe we can all get inside.

If a “sound” is unique, it can often expect a reasonable success. However, it takes a great deal more than just uniqueness to sustain this success. The Fleetwoods did this – and more. They became America’s top teenage vocal trio. Their sound was more than just different and identifiably their own. It was a perfect blend of young voices, just right for so many of the fine ballads they were singing. The Fleetwoods’ secret, if you can call it a secret, was sincerity. They simply gave each lyric they sang its truest and sincerest meaning. Over the years, many others have tried to imitate them, but none have come close to the overwhelming success they had. We hope you will enjoy this album of The Fleetwoods’ very best recordings.

Ivan The Tolerable Trio are back with an alternate version to the amazing Infinite Peace. 2 epic tracks to take you away into infinite space! "When we went in to ATA studios in Leeds to record the Infinite Peace LP - it was always the plan to have two versions of the album - a straight mix that documented what we actually recorded there in its pure form and another version that would rearrange everything into a new shape. Once the LP was out, I passed all the stems to my old pal/former bandmate and frequent collaborator Ajay Saggar (Bhajan Bhoy/King Champion Sounds/University Challenged) and asked him to remix it in a way that sounded nothing like the original record. Its a much more ambient and floaty affair - more Popol Vuh than Sun Ra a full drift spread across two 22 minute suites. This is what he did - infinite space - we hope you like it." Oli Heffernan, September 2024

The Blessed Madonna began with three magic words, scrawled in shoe polish on a broken - down box and hung on the wall at a small sweaty party: We Still Believe. “I think you have to give up completely to really understand what hope is. It was like 2011? I had spectacularly, monumentally failed. I left the label. I wasn’t DJing. I wasn’t putting out records. I was divorced and living on my Dad’s couch so naturally my friends and I decided to throw an illegal rave. We didn’t have any decorations, so I took a box and wrote, ‘We Still Believe’ on it. I needed to believe that something better was possible and that’s how it all started.” After years of $50 gigs, strung together by gas money and surfed couches, The Blessed Madonna cemented her reputation as a sublime technician behind the decks with a legacy of fluent and dynamic sets, spanning from disco to techno to house and back. One room sweatboxes, circus tents, theatres, massive festival stages and entire city blocks have all served as the canvas for her shows. After a jam packed 2023, from Glastonbury to Sonar to Boiler Room Bali, The Blessed Madonna has been filling the dance floor everywhere she goes and is now releasing her debut album.

Coke Bottle CLear Vinyl. The breakout success of 2016's Puberty 2 saw Mitski hailed as the new vanguard of indie rock, the one to save the genre from the white dudes who've historically dominated it. But the often overlooked aspect of being a rising star is the sheer amount of work that goes into it. "I had been on the road for a long time, which is so isolating, and had to run my own business at the same time," Mitski explains, "a lot of this record was me not having any feelings, being completely spent, but then trying to rally myself and wake up and get back to Mitski. I was feeling really nihilistic and trying to make pop songs."We want our artists to be strong but we also expect them to be vulnerable. Rather than avoiding this dilemma, she addresses directly the power that comes from appearing impenetrable and loneliness that follows. "With a lot of the romantic infatuations I've had," she says, "when I look back, I wonder, Did I want them or did I want to be them? Did I love them or did I want to absorb whatever power they had? I decided I could just be my own cowboy figure that I so desire." In Be The Cowboy, delves into the loneliness of being a symbol and the loneliness of being someone, and how it can feel so much like being no one.

A unique, dreamy Dutch-language indie-folk record reminiscent of Jessica Pratt and Joni Mitchell.



Catbug is the project of singer-songwriter Paulien Rondou who grew up in Duisburg, a Belgian village near Tervuren. After completing her 'Cabaret' studies at the Antwerp Conservatory, Paulien moved to her mother and stepfather's little farm in Westmalle. Although she left without any specific goal in mind, it didn't take long for the first wonderful songs to originate in this environment.

Catbug released her debut album Universe back in 2018. A record that immediately put her on the map within the Belgian music landscape. "Since the release of King Fisher, Catbug's first song, we have been sitting here on the edge of our seats", Radio 1 wrote about it at the time. Despite the fact that her musical career had clearly taken a direction, Paulien did not feel comfortable living the big city life. That said, it didn't take long before she left Antwerp behind to run the organic farm De Paardebloemhoeve in Malle. As it turned out, that farm was the ideal habitat for Paulien to work on her first Dutch-language album slapen onder een hunebed peacefully and quietly. This album was also well received in Belgium and was even picked up by Japanese label Think!Records. In one way or another, Catbug's music reached the Japanese label and, upon their request, several hundred vinyls were immediately sent out to Japan. In no time, all vinyls were sold out. Despite the fact that Catbug's lyrics are sung in Dutch, the people in Japan love her music.

Now, three years later, there's the brand new album Musjemeesje. The album has become an ode to all the birdson and around the farm, which again served as the breeding ground for all the new songs. One winter day in 2021, Paulien was given a pair of binoculars as a gift and decided to learn as much as she could about the birds on and around the farm. Soon she learnt to recognize the distinctive sounds and ways of flying of many different species, and a separate story began to form with each bird. There was something in them that Paulien identified with, and she wanted to try to map it out. This is where the idea was born of writing an album of songs about birds. "Birds always manage to uplift and inspire me with their crazy habits and their twittering. They reach out to the child in myself", Paulien added herself. For this album, Paulien worked with producer Aiko Devriendt again, who also did the mix. They recorded the album in pianist Guy Van Nuyten's studio and just like they did the last time, a conscious choice was made to keep it sober. Less is more. This resulted in a unique, dreamy Dutch-language indie-folk record reminiscent of Jessica Pratt and Joni Mitchell.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

By 1973, Herbie Hancock already had both feet planted firmly in the future — some 50 years based on the vast, electronic funk he crafted during this period. How could he have known that this music would soundtrack block parties in the ‘80s and give ground to a burgeoning hip-hop culture? How could a man so steeped in the history of jazz be so untethered to form and genre that he created a sound all his own? Did he envision a world much like we’re living in now, where smartphones dictate our lives and musical compositions co-mingle without adherence to artificial marketing terms? Herbie likely wasn’t that prescient, but I wouldn’t doubt his genius. Based on the interplanetary trance funk of Sextant, his 11th studio album, such foresight wouldn’t be surprising. Then and always, Herbie was the master of the road less traveled. He was the light guiding his peers where they needed to go.

Nach langer Wartezeit ist "Scott Matthew" - das selbstbenannte Debut des Singer-Songwriters aus 2007 nun endlich wieder erhältlich; und zwar nicht einfach nur wieder da, sondern als limitierte Special Edition in Blue colored Vinyl. Mit diesem Album wurde Scott Matthew schlagartig zu dem Namen, den man kennen muss - die FAZ sprach sofort von einer Ausnahmeerscheinung, der Rolling Stone zog den Vergleich mit dem frühen David Bowie, die Süddeutsche Zeitung fand diese Musik sanft, entrückt und hoch fliegend und ging soweit zu schreiben, hier ziele jemand auf das Universelle. Dass diese Einschätzungen richtig waren, kann man heute auch daran erkennen, wie gut diese Musik gealtert ist, nämlich gar nicht. Immer noch enthalten diese 11 Songs die Quintessenz dessen, was guter Pop-Musik ihren Unterhaltungs- und kulturellen Wert gibt: dass sie eingängig ist und gleichzeitig Tiefgang hat, dass sie Authentizität mit musikalischer Qualität verbindet, dass sie kleine und große Gefühle anspricht und aber sich und uns die Didaktik erspart. "Scott Matthew" ist zudem Startpunkt und Zeugnis dessen, was diesen Musiker zum Unikat macht - wir finden die sensiblen Arrangements, die traurig schönen Balladen-Texte, das tief-persönliche, die Ukulele, das akustische zarte und die Streicher, die Eleganz und den Schwulst und das Bescheidene, das Langsame. Eigentlich kann man Scott Matthew nicht verstehen, wenn man dieses Album nicht kennt. Und es ist zudem der heimliche Star und quasi Soundtrack des Films "Shortbus", der inzwischen zu einem Lieblings-Kultfilm der Independent-LGBTQ+ und Sex Positivity-Szene avanciert ist und zudem die Hommage an die Arty-Community des New York der Nuller-Jahre ist (und damit heute bereits nostalgiegeschwängertes Retro-Kino). Damit ist dieses Album Musik in seiner reinsten Form. Aber zugleich auch das Bindeglied zwischen Musik und Kunst und Popkultur und New York-Sehnsucht und Nostalgie und Cinema und LGBTQ+ und Mainstream und Arthouse. Und welches Album kann das schon von sich sagen. Und dabei so bescheiden bleiben.