Search:hear

Following the success of their 2023 release "Stockholm Kobenhavn", two of Denmark"s most celebrated musicians in multi-instrumentalist Gustaf Ljunggren and drummer Emil de Waal present their fourth collaborative album. Expanding on their growing reputation for crafting songs and sounds with masterful senses of subtlety, narrative and capacity to form meaningful connections with their collaborators and audiences alike, "Mikroklima" is set to release on February 7th on April Records. Emil de Waal has been one of Denmark"s leading drummers for three decades, best known for his work leading the band Kalaha and his collaborations with Elith "Nulle" Nykjær, as well as performing alongside most of the finest names in modern Scandinavian jazz. Gustaf Ljunggren initially studied the saxophone at the Rhythmic Conservatory of Copenhagen, where whispers spread throughout the school that he was the best saxophone player in town and yet never practiced. His career has seen him prove that he can bring grace, musicality and heart to any instrument he touches, from the pedal steel guitar, to the bass, piano, and more. "Mikroklima" is a testament to and celebration of musical growth, community, and the joy of musical gathering. One element that truly sets this album apart, is the bold move of inviting a group of 12 year old school children from a music class into the studio to record alongside Gustaf and Emil. Drawing from years of experience leading music workshops with young musicians, on Mikroklima Ljunggren and de Waal wanted to capture the sound of musicians from different generations and experiences coming together to contribute their ideas to their compositions. Showcasing Ljunggren"s colorful, comforting, folk-influenced approach to harmony and songwriting alongside de Waal"s distinctive touch on the drums, crafting simplistic yet creative grooves that feel as pleasing and refreshing as they do restrained and purposeful. As each piece unfolds, it becomes more and more apparent how present and communicative the duo are, playing only what the music needs and placing more weight on texture and feeling than soloistic flair. "Mikroklima" is an organic, generous offering that shows Gustaf Ljunggren and Emil de Waal doing what they do best: connecting with music.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Almost as soon as Σtella Chronopoulou began writing Adagio, her fifth album as Σtella, she knew the time had finally come to sing in Greek, her native tongue. It would be a first. She started the record almost by accident in 2019, during an 11-hour boat ride to the island of Anafi. Σtella had recently gone through a patch of personal turmoil and needed a break from home. On the ferry, she pulled out her cell phone as the boat clipped through the Mediterranean and began with a simple melody, steadily piecing together a rough instrumental. As psychedelic keyboards twinkled and swayed above staccato drums, the track suggested some deep exhalation, as if Σtella were letting go of long-unnecessary baggage. For a spell, she set the instrumental aside. She wasn’t ready yet, or in a rush. Σtella, after all, grew up in a slow place. During her youth in a relatively rural suburb of Athens, Greece, she and her friends played unfettered in empty streets, not worried about cars or permission, and living felt easy. But in the last decade life has steadily become busier for Σtella, now based in the heart of Athens. She has become one of modern Greece’s most popular musical exports, with three sophisticated, playful pop albums rendered with international élan. After her Sub Pop debut, Up and Away, in 2022, she catapulted beyond three million monthly Spotify listeners. That success was a blessing, but Σtella sometimes found herself pining for the slower pace of her youth. That longing is the thread that loosely binds together her fifth album, the entrancing Adagio. Borrowing its name from the term for music that’s meant to be played slowly, Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time. Written and recorded over the span of five years, with a consortium of international collaborators including !!!’s Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing, Adagio is a 27-minute meditation on love and desire, rest and time. Though the bulk of it is sung in English, Σtella delivers her first two songs in Greek here—“Omorfo Mou,” the one that began on the boat, and a cover of a 1969 cult classic of the Greek New Wave, Litsa Sakelariou’s “Ta Vimata.” It is a sign of the self-assurance that radiates throughout these tender and smitten little tunes. Start to finish, Σtella sounds more at ease and comfortable than she’s ever been on Adagio. These fetching songs will not slow her career or grant her that title track’s wish. But, for half an hour, Adagio adds a measure of warmth to the world, with time loosening its grip even if it doesn’t slow down.● Athens, Greece-based Σtella’s new album Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time.● Features Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing.• Σtella’s breakout hit “Charmed” from her 2022 album Up and Away has nearly 100 million streams, and was recently featured in the hit Max show Industry.• On Spotify, Σtella has 3.4 million followers, 66k monthly listeners.

Introducing the vinyl reissue of "Defective Breakdown" by The Defects, a cornerstone album in the history of Irish punk. Originally released in 1982, this album captures the raw energy and rebellious spirit of Belfast’s punk scene during a turbulent period. Known for their uncompromising lyrics and driving rhythms, The Defects became anthems for youth discontent and anti-establishment sentiments. Fronted by the powerful vocals of Buck Defect, with infectious guitar work from Geoff "Duke" Gilmore, the band brought a visceral sound that resonated with audiences far beyond Northern Ireland. Tracks like "Survival" and "Brutality" showcase their fast-paced, no-holds-barred approach to punk, combining aggressive instrumentals with direct, hard-hitting lyrics. This vinyl edition brings "Defective Breakdown" back to life with enhanced clarity and depth, giving both long-time fans and new listeners the chance to experience The Defects’ iconic sound as it was meant to be heard.

Introducing the vinyl reissue of "Defective Breakdown" by The Defects, a cornerstone album in the history of Irish punk. Originally released in 1982, this album captures the raw energy and rebellious spirit of Belfast’s punk scene during a turbulent period. Known for their uncompromising lyrics and driving rhythms, The Defects became anthems for youth discontent and anti-establishment sentiments. Fronted by the powerful vocals of Buck Defect, with infectious guitar work from Geoff "Duke" Gilmore, the band brought a visceral sound that resonated with audiences far beyond Northern Ireland. Tracks like "Survival" and "Brutality" showcase their fast-paced, no-holds-barred approach to punk, combining aggressive instrumentals with direct, hard-hitting lyrics. This vinyl edition brings "Defective Breakdown" back to life with enhanced clarity and depth, giving both long-time fans and new listeners the chance to experience The Defects’ iconic sound as it was meant to be heard.

»Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds« explores sound’s relationship with architecture, inspired by the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery of NSW. Created from sound prompts responded to by artists like Jim O’Rourke and claire rousay, the work reflects on space, collaboration, and the fluid nature of sonic environments.

I like to think that sound haunts architecture.

It’s one of the truly magical interactions afforded by sound’s immateriality. It’s also something that has captivated us from the earliest times. It’s not difficult to imagine the exhilaration of our early ancestors calling to one another in the dark cathedral like caves which held wonder, and security, for them.

Today the ways in which sound occupies space, the so-called liquid architecture, holds just as much wonder, albeit one that is often dominated by functionality and form. Beyond those constraints however, how sound operates in the material world is something that exists at the fundament of our understanding of music, and moreover within the broad church we know as the canon of sound arts.

Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is a record born out of these relations. In a direct sense, the record is the product of an invitation by curator Jonathan Wilson to create a sound environment, reflecting on the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery Of NSW. The building’s name, which translates from the Gadigal language to ‘seeing water’, was opened in 2022 and this piece was offered as an atmospheric tint to visitors walking through the building throughout the year following its opening.

It’s also a record born out of a recognition for the porousness sound affords, especially as a device for collaborative endeavour. This composition is one born out of generosity and acoustic solidarity. Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is comprised not just of my sounds, but also that of an incredible array of artists who have also operated in the orbit of the Art Gallery Of NSW. The players include Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello and Vanessa Tomlinson.

The piece was constructed around two long form sound prompts that each musician responded and contributed to. These materials there when digested into the final piece you hear. The work could not exist without the substantial offerings these artists made, and I am immensely grateful to each of them.

I’ll finish with a little note that appears on the LP itself.

Place is an evolving, subjective experience of space. Spaces hold the opportunity for place, which we create moment to moment, shaped by our ways of sense-making.

Whilst the architectural and material features of space might remain somewhat constant, the people, objects, atmospheres, and encounters that fill them are forever collapsing into memory.

Lawrence English
Performed by Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello, Vanessa Tomlinson

Colemine Records is excited to put out their first 45 with The Charities, a sweet-soul band out of sunny California. The group's sound is a melting pot of cultures, exhibiting a mix of soul, r&b, rock, and funk. The A-side of this 45, 'Fatal Attraction,' explores just that. In some relationships, the very qualities that draw you in can also lead to your destruction. She's captivating_beautiful, intelligent, and charming_but beneath the surface, she's narcissistic and self-centered, with no regard for the pain she causes. When you're lost in the intensity of love, it's easy to overlook these darker traits. But when the time comes for her to move on, she'll strike without hesitation, delivering a blow that cuts deep. Her words, sharp as a knife, tear through your heart with cold precision. As you bleed out, she offers nothing but a final, indifferent goodbye...."It's Not Our Time," on the B, tells the story of two lovers who find themselves at a crossroads, torn apart by the struggles they face in this chapter of their lives. Perhaps in the future, they'll rekindle their love and spark a new flame_one that burns even brighter then before. It's a bittersweet goodbye, with the belief that the distance and time apart will only strengthen their bond when the moment is right.The tracks are produced by Anthony Masino and were recorded at Penrose Recordings in Riverside, CA.

Chris Ryan Williams (trumpet & electronics) and Lester St. Louis (cello & electronics) work together as HxH (H by H). Their skills have seen them move smoothly across various situations, constantly carving out new terrain and working in new configurations of musicians at a rapid pace. While worth reading, their biographies capture only a part of their complex rhizome.

HxH started about three years ago. The project is a direct response to all their activity with others and more importantly all their future leaning sonic desires. Their debut album STARK PHENOMENA is both their first studio recording and their first physical release. The album is appropriately set to be released by KMRU on his growing label OFNOT. It’s an ideal introduction to their sound world and their approach.

HxH describe their music as “electroacoustic,” but until recently the presence of Black musicians in this field has been greatly overlooked and largely ignored, making this phrase only partially appropriate. What HxH do really is to always be unpredictable. Every gig is a new soundscape. Sometimes you might hear echoes of Autechre or Robert Hood but then the sound-field will open up into a new terrain all their own. Chris and Lester bring together techniques from across the sound spectrum of electronic music and also draw on their deep backgrounds in Jazz, Improvisation, Classical and Noise scenes to create a sound that is true to them. After all, these two have worked with the likes of Bennie Maupin and the music of Black Fluxus artist Ben Patterson. Their rhizome is deep.

One of the ways that their unique approach manifests is in their merging of both acoustic instruments and electronic instruments in real time. This is something few have managed to do – but their spontaneous leanings work in both complex and accessible ways because of their deep understanding of landscape crafting. You can hear this clearly on the track “Pyrex Vision.” Their approach makes it tempting to compare their music to Sun Ra jamming with Laurel Halo – a comparison that would be only partly accurate.

Chris and Lester note that the sounds on STARK PHENOMENA are “imbued with such hopeful, gracious care; one that is far flung from obsessive carefulness or fuck the world carelessness, but more a caring embrace without the fuzziness of nostalgia.”

They note that when they began working together, they would “always come back to speaking on our concepts of an architecture of the expanse,” noting that their live sets often take on the joyfully noisy task of “dreaming big.” For HxH it was essential that STARK PHENOMENA have a quality that is “almost sculptural.” They consider the album “an object to be viewed from all sides.” This kind of thinking has resulted in them directly engaging with numerous sculptors and artists including Torkwase Dyson. Shape wise HxH’s sound fields work in a parallel to Dyson’s black architectural works.

They also note that the opening cut “BEACH” (the opening and longest track from the album) was “written weeks after our first gig in a studio session donated to us by our dear friend jaimie branch.” And that Pyrex Vision “was continually being edited months after sending our ‘final mixes’ to KMRU.” Their sound sources and samples come from studio sessions, live gigs, durational installations, 3am improvised downloads and more.

KMRU notes: "I think there is an in-between layer on this record. I was first caught by the Pyrex Vision track which organically flows between monologue, subtle field recording, and instrumentation. It's such a beautiful track, evoking deep emotion through simplicity. STARK PHENOMENA effortlessly glides in between imaginative mosaics of sounds — free yet complex — unlocking memories within its layers."

Dua Lipa veröffentlicht zum bevorstehenden 5-jährigen Jubiläum ihres mit einem GRAMMY Award ausgezeichneten und mit Platin zertifizierten zweiten Studioalbum Future Nostalgia eine 3LP Special-Edition.
Gepresst auf einer gelben Splatter-Vinyl und zwei schwarzen Vinyl, enthält das 3-LP-Set die 11 OriginalTracks des Albums sowie die Deluxe Moonlight Edition und das Remix-Album Club Future Nostalgia.

Flutter Ridder is the duo of Norwegian multidisciplinary artists Espen Friberg and Jenny Berger Myhre, both of whom play important roles in Oslo’s contemporary art and music underground. The pair first collaborated during the production of Friberg’s debut solo record, “Sun Soon” (Hubro, 2022), quickly recognizing in one another a creative kinship rooted in a playful, intentionally naive approach towards making art. In November of 2023, the pair decamped to the coastal town of Hvisten in southeastern Norway to record what would become this debut, self-titled album in an ancient wooden church. Drawing from a palette of Friberg’s idiosyncratic Serge modular system and the church’s resident pipe organ and intoxicating acoustic reverb, they began recording and sculpting music informed by the notion that air and electricity share a common flow, a continuous current that can be directed through valves and potentiometers. The pair came to think of the Serge and pipe organ as sibling instruments, the former yielding characteristically unpredictable and complex timbres that complement the wooly, reedy drones and strange, microtonal overtones of the latter. At once sublime, liturgical, and whimsical, Flutter Ridder offers its listener a series of moving, cinematic natural landscapes, affirming the sensibilities of its makers and the indelible influence of the environment in which it was produced.

Hüma Utku returns to Editions Mego with her new album. The title Dracones makes reference to the mediaeval latin term "Hic sunt dracones" (Here be dragons), marking the unexplored, dangerous places on world maps, expressing the fear of chaos, the unexpected and the unknown.

This new work by the Istanbul sound artist is a sonic journal of an expedition into uncharted territory, one which occupies self and domesticity. Inspired by Utku’s experience of matrescence, Dracones explores the themes of familial demonology, metamorphosis and homecoming as well as human relationship to the experience of love woven layers of euphoria, alienation and consumption.

Musically, Dracones traverses a wide array of sonic tools whereby industrial sounds are imbedded with certain psychological angles, this is an album where, all matter meshes into a sly snapshot of the human experience with a tension and release exposure occurring frequently with dark corners opening up to bright layers of electronic experimentation.

The haunting opening track ‘A World Between Worlds’ tackles pregnancy, of which Utku was experiencing when making this record. The emotional, physical, spiritual and mental experience of this journey is all documented here.. This track features the ‘Lyraei’, an electromagnetic string instrument and modern interpretation of the ancient lyre, that was built and played by Mihalis Shammas. ‘Comfort of The Shadows’ moves from within to without, what was once hidden is now exposed. Utku’s ability to conjure the visual in the sonic is at the forefront as howling electronics give a distinct impression of movement. ‘A Familial Curse’ presents a desire to break the cycle of generational trauma with a creeping sense of dread that rolls into an industrial rhythm prior to landing in a beautiful place represented with shimmering guitar tones. ‘Here be Dragons’ is a rich and dark evocation, a spooked surrender to the themes of the record whereby Utku’s wildly distorted voice beckons all manner of phantasmagoria over cello and recordings of her ultrasound. ‘Care in Consume’ engages in further sonic exploration as a means of conjuring ‘matriphagy’, with its unique psychic energy coursing through electronic veins. ‘A House within a House’ could also be read as a body within a body as the pulse of ultrasound audio rattle amongst a cage of thudding rhythms and swirling electronics, one also ending in optimism as an exquisite melody is born from the prior fire. The striking journey ends with the more soothing ‘Ayaz’a’, a track embracing love and all the hardships that a period of fundamental metamorphosis brings, this is a heartfelt dedication to her son and concludes an album draped in life, experience, joy and pain.

Dracones is a deeply visual journey through inner and outer worlds, a space where symbolic evocation is supreme and passive listening is not an option.

All tracks composed,performed and recorded by Hüma Utku
Buchla 100, vocals, cello, electric guitar performed by Hüma Utku
‘’A World Between Worlds’’ features the ‘Lyraei’ built, played and recorded by Mihalis Shammas
Buchla 100 recorded in EMS Stockholm 2022-2023

Mixed by Enyang Urbiks
Mastered by Heba Kadry, NYC
Cover Artwork by Marco Ciceri
Design by Tina Frank

Bon Iver, Bon Iver is JustinVernon returning to former haunts with a new spirit. The reprises are there - solitude, quietude, hope and desperation compressed - but always a rhythm arises, a pulse vivified by gratitude and grace notes. The winter, the legend, has faded to just that, and this is the new momentary present. "Bon Iver is often equated with just me," says Vernon, "but you are who surrounds you, and for Bon Iver, Bon Iver I wanted to invite those voices as musical catalysts." Thus on the track "Beth/Rest" and throughout the album, we hear the pedal steel of Greg Leisz (LucindaWilliams, Bill Frisell), the uniquely layered low end of Colin Stetson's (TomWaits, Arcade Fire) saxophones, the riffing of Mike Lewis' (Happy Apple, Andrew Bird) altos and tenors, and the lush horns of C.J. Camerieri (RufusWainwright, Sufjan Stevens). Bon Iver regulars Sean Carey, Mike Noyce and Matt McCaughan contributed vocals, drums and production, Rob Moose (Antony and the Johnsons, The National) helped with arranging and added strings, and fellow members of Volcano Choir, Jim Schoenecker and Tom Wincek provided processing. Bon Iver, Bon Iver was recorded and mixed over the course of three years

Bon Iver's debut full-length For Emma, Forever Ago has been making major waves in critics circles based on the strength of an early artist-pressed advance cd and a couple awe-inspiring sets at CMJ in October 2007. The New York Times called it "irresistible" and Pitchfork stamped its early review of the album with a Recommended tag. For those of you hiding away in a cabin of your own, it's time that you hear the story, and more importantly, the music. Bon Iver (pronounced: bohn eevair; French for "good winter" and spelled wrong on purpose) is a greeting, a celebration and a sentiment. It is a new statement of an artist moving on and establishing the groundwork for a lasting career. For Emma, Forever Ago is the debut of this lineage of songs. As a whole, the record is entirely cohesive throughout and remains centered around a particular aesthetic, prompted by the time and place for which it was recorded. Justin Vernon, the primary force behind Bon Iver, seems to have tested his boundaries to the maximum, and in doing so has managed to break free from any pre-cursing or finished forms. It wasn't planned. The goal was to hibernate. Vernon moved to a remote cabin in the woods of Northwestern Wisconsin at the onset of winter. He lived there alone for three months, filling his days with wood splitting and other chores around the land. This solitary time slowly began feeding a bold, uninhibited new musical focus. The days slowly evolved into nights filled with twelve-hour recording blocks, breaking only for trips on the tractor into the pines to saw and haul firewood, or for frozen sunrises high up a deer stand. All of his personal trouble, lack of perspective, heartache, longing, love, loss and guilt that had been stock piled over the course of the past six years, was suddenly purged into the form of song.

Mit AVEC präsentiert die österreichische Singer-Songwriterin AVEC ein selbstbetiteltes Album, das die bittersüßen und zärtlichen Momente des
Lebens nahtlos miteinander verbindet. Diese Sammlung verkörpert ihre charakteristische Mischung aus sanften Melodien, introspektiven Texten und
cinematischen Klanglandschaften. Roh und intim taucht das Album in die Komplexität menschlicher Beziehungen und persönlicher Introspektion ein
und lädt die Hörer:innen in eine Welt ein, in der Verletzlichkeit auf Widerstandsfähigkeit trifft und Herzschmerz mit Hoffnung tanzt.
Seit 2015 AVECs erste EP “Heartbeats” erschienen ist, rüttelt die junge österreichische Musikerin gekonnt und gut am Bild dessen, was man über
zutiefst ehrliche Popmusik zu wissen geglaubt hat. Die erste, sehr erfolgreiche Single “Granny” hat den Weg zum jugendlich-melancholischen
Debütalbum “What If We Never Forget” geebnet. Es wurde mit mehreren Nominierungen bei den Austrian Amadeus Music Awards (unter anderem
“Künstlerin des Jahres” und “Best Sound”) belohnt: ein erstes, starkes Folkpop-Statement, reduziert, kraft- und eindrucksvoll. So eindrucksvoll, dass
AVEC in weiterer Folge unter anderem Support-Slots für Zucchero, Sting oder The Tallest Man On Earth gespielt hat.

Mit "Glory" veröffentlicht Mike Hadreas aka Perfume Genius sein siebtes Studioalbum. Zusammen mit seinem Partner Alan Wyffels und Produzent Blake Mills ist eine Platte entstanden, die nach außen hin strahlt, in seinen makabren Bildern und seinem aufgewühlten Innern aber das Tor in eine Welt von Entfremdung, Sehnsucht und Verlangen aufmacht. Es ist der Konflikt zwischen dem Außen und dem Innen, der Hadreas beschäftigt, der Widerspruch zwischen einem künstlerischen Leben in der Öffentlichkeit und dem Wunsch nach Isolation. In seinen Charakterskizzen betrachtet der US-Künstler mit der Sorgfalt eines Schriftstellers Szenen von Freundschaft, Verlangen und Intimität durch eine queere Prima, während er sich musikalisch geöffnet und in seinem Songwriting-Prozess mehr Raum für Gruppendynamik gelassen hat: "Es ist auf eine Weise kollaborativ, die es besser macht", so Hadreas, "aber auch beängstigender - es fühlt sich verletzlicher an". Dass Glory dennoch ein zutiefst persönliches Album geworden ist, liegt auch daran, dass Hadreas seine eigenen Ängste vor dem Hintergrund der Entwicklung einer den Zeitgeist durchdringenden, allgemeinen Paranoia reflektiert. Mit seinen fein gesponnenen Tracks wirkt "Glory" beizeiten wie eine Kollektion neuer Standards für queere Romantiker und alte Seelen im Tumult der Gegenwart.

After a 30-year interstellar silence, the enigmatic producer Alien Signal—pioneering alias of Italian electronic composer Alex Silvi—reemerges with Whispers from Distant Suns, a transcendent odyssey that bridges retro-futurism and modern electronica. Hailed as a magnum opus, this album transcends genre boundaries, captivating ambient purists, downtempo aficionados, and even experimental listeners with its hypnotic fusion of analog warmth and digital precision.

Cosmic Tapestry of Sound
Drawing comparisons to Vangelis’ Antarctica and Alpha—but reimagined through a 21stcentury lens—Whispers from Distant Suns marries nostalgic synth textures with cuttingedge production. Silvi’s mastery of melody shines through in tracks like “Stardust
Memories” and “Fragile Eden” where shimmering arpeggios and celestial pads drift over robotic, glitch-infused drum patterns and sparse, meditative percussion. The result is a paradox: a retro-futuristic soundscape that feels simultaneously ancient and alien, familiar yet unexplored.

Listener Testimonials
Fans and critics have flooded forums with praise:

“An auditory revelation! It’s like Vangelis met Jon Hopkins in a nebula—vintage soul with a futuristic heartbeat.”
“The textures are gorgeously cinematic. Closing your eyes, you’re adrift in a Tarkovsky film scored for the Andromeda galaxy.”

The Vinyl Experience
Pressed on heavyweight vinyl, the album’s physical release amplifies its immersive qualities. The gatefold sleeve, adorned with surrealist astrophotography and metallic
foiling, mirrors the music’s cosmic ethos. Side A leans into Balearic serenity, with sundappled grooves and aquatic synth ripples, while Side B delves into darker, more
experimental terrain—think Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works colliding with the organic rhythms of Jon Hopkins.

Maturity in Motion
This album is a testament to Silvi’s evolution. Tracks like “Seeds Of Light” and “Message from Andromeda Galaxy” showcase his refined ear for dynamics, balancing silence and sound with surgical precision. Vintage drum machines spar with glitches, while field recordings of crashing waves and interstellar static blur the line between Earth and cosmos. The closing track, “The Star Charts We Shared” crescendos into a 6-minute ambient requiem, leaving listeners suspended in a state of weightless awe.

Final Transmission
Whispers from Distant Suns is more than an album—it’s a transcendent odyssey. Spanning time, space, and the artist’s own creative evolution, this immersive work invites listeners to lose themselves in its ebb and flow. Designed for moments both intimate and expansive, its balearic-tinged atmospheres resonate equally through dawnlit Mediterranean terraces or the solitary glow of headphones in darkness. These are compositions that pulse, morph, and haunt the air long after the final note fades. A living soundscape meant to accompany life’s quiet revelations and clandestine joys—a soundtrack to your most personal moments, crafted as what the artist calls ‘private dance music.’

Tailored for the Discerning Listener
Whispers from Distant Suns is designed with the true connoisseur in mind. This album is a must-have for:

Vinyl Collectors & Audiophiles: Those who value the warmth and tactile experience of heavyweight, limited edition pressings
Electronic Ambient and Downtempo Fans: Listeners who appreciate immersive soundscapes that merge retro analog charm with modern digital innovation.
Retro-Futurism Enthusiasts: Fans of pioneering artists like Vangelis, Boards of Canada, and early Warp Records who seek music that bridges nostalgic synth textures with futuristic experimentation.
Experimental Music Explorers: Individuals drawn to sonic narratives that invite deep, contemplative listening—perfect for both introspective moments and immersive listening sessions.
This release is not just an album; it’s a curated experience for those who desire music as a multidimensional art form, merging the vintage allure of analog sound with a contemporary, cosmic vision.

For fans of: Vangelis, Biosphere, Jon Hopkins, early Warp Records.

Manchester-based original soul collective The 7:45s release their debut single.

Named after 7-inch 45-rpm vinyl, The 7:45s write short and snappy soul singles. Their debut is a double A-side, giving you two bops for the price of one. Inspired by Charles Bradley, 'The Way that I Love You' is full of contrasts: the piano chimes and horns respond, a man calls and a woman answers. It's laidback then intense, major then minor, nostalgic then heartbroken. On the flip-side, 'Too Little Too Late' is an upbeat northern soul stomper, featuring an earworm of a vocal hook over an infectious bassline that's sure to ruffle tail feathers.

Recorded with vintage equipment at EVE Studios in Stockport, both songs feature the captivating vocals of collaborator Martin Connor. On 'The Way that I Love You', Connor's vocal rises from a crooning baritone to a fever pitch, culminating in spine-tingling ad libs. Magic moments like this are heightened by songwriter and bassist Sam Flynn's perfectionist arrangements, which feature dozens of musicians: spotlighting vocal harmonies, horns, and even strings on 'Too Little... more

credits

releases March 7, 2025

Been in UK soul chart and played on all the indie soul stations , Starpoint , solar etc

Too little Too Late was Played on BBC radio six Craig Charles Funk and soul show twice and the Way That I Love You was played on BBC radio six Craig Charles day time show

Track of the week on Simon Phillips Jazz FM

Featured in Blues and Soul and Echoes Mag

Toulouse appears to be a proper soundsystem town, a real Dub and Bass music hot spot. We were happy to get in touch with with Stefan Dubs from the former Folklore crew, running a handmade soundsystem with up to 6 full super scoops. He released several records under Folklore and later Maquis Son SistÈm, started a liveact which meanwhile runs under SÚn Du MaquÌs, organises soundsystem gatherings and raves around town with the ComitÈ Des FÍtes collective.

Luckily we were able to invite Jan Loup and him to Leipzig in 2023 to shake Bassmaessage with their soundsystem, including the amazing multi-track tape into vintage FX & mixing desk performance. If you ever have the chance to catch them live, you'll hear a special vividly rooted analogue sound, incorporating modern influences, covering various BPM from 120 to 170, but definitely bass heavy all along!

Irie skanks keep you floating along "Mogale Stepper", which shows SÚn's warm but forward bass abilities and the knowledge to keep it steppy without any militant aggressive kicks. "Puur Dub" has a the same instant reminiscence of digital reggae skanking, but adding a brilliant layer of Think break incarnations on top - killing advanced sub connoisseur meetings with ease. On the first check this plate may appear a bit different from the label's cutalogue, but if you settle in these lush textures and twisted dubs you'll see: this is a definitive 45seven sound!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… it was dance music, it had lyrics, it had songs, it wasn’t all instrumental, it was basically uptempo soul music, to be exact.”*

This quote from Timmy Regisford already sums up everything you need to know about his remix of Basic Black’s “Don’t Make Me Fall In Love.” Signed to Motown during Regisford’s reign as vice president and A&R, their self-titled debut album from 1990 is a testament to the massive popularity of new jack swing at the time. In his remix, the co-founder, resident DJ, and key figure of Club Shelter reconfigures the song’s structure with the signature sounds of New York’s prime dance floor scene, while preserving the heartfelt storytelling of the lyrics and the group’s voices on top of an irresistible groove and a bassline to die for.
At the time, it was only available in the record crates of the Big Apple’s DJ elite and later on as a white label in specialist shops. This soulful, yet driving piece, however, never saw an official single release—until now. Lifted from a DAT tape in Tony Humphries’ archive and carefully and faithfully restored, it now even features a condensed, never-before-released instrumental version of the remix, as well as a bass-and-beats-only edit for mixing purposes by yours truly. New jack swing transformed into New York club music by a king. This remix is a testament to Timmy Regisford’s prowess in the studio, but also honors the roots of the music he loves and grew up on—serving as a perpetual piece of the city’s vast history in underground dance music.
Gerd Janson

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

Transport yourself to the vibrant streets of Havana with the Buena Vista Social Club's eponymous album, a captivating journey into the heart of Cuban music! Recorded in 1996 by acclaimed producer Ry Cooder, this timeless masterpiece celebrates the rich tapestry of Afro-Cuban rhythms and soulful melodies that have enchanted audiences for generations.

Buena Vista Social Club is both the name given to this extraordinary group of musicians and the album, recorded in just seven days in 1996 in Havana's 1950s vintage EGREM studios. From the infectious energy of "Chan Chan" to the heartfelt nostalgia of "Dos Gardenias," each track immerses listeners in the intoxicating blend of son, bolero, and guajira styles. Led by legendary musicians such as Ibrahim Ferrer, Compay Segundo, and Omara Portuondo, the Buena Vista Social Club ensemble delivers performances that are as exuberant as they are intimate, capturing the essence of a bygone era while igniting a passion for Cuban music that knows no bounds.

The acclaim of the original album has elevated the artists (including Ibrahim Ferrer, Rubén González and Omara Portuondo) to superstar status, inspired an award-winning film by Wim Wenders, and has contributed to popularizing Cuba's rich musical heritage. Produced by Ry Cooder for World Circuit, the timeless quality of the music and the sheer verve of the veteran performers have ensured that this will go down as one of the landmark recordings of the 20th century.

This 45 RPM Analogue Productions reissue pressed by Quality Record Pressings on four dead-silent LPs makes every note a transcendent experience. Meticulously crafted using the finest materials and exacting standards, this reissue pays homage to the golden age of vinyl, capturing the warmth and depth of the original recording in stunning detail. The package includes a 12-page booklet with lyrics and stunning studio images, topped off by a tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket made by Stoughton Printing.

Embark on a musical odyssey filled with warmth, joy, and the irresistible allure of Havana nights!

180g black vinyl - limited to 200 numbered copies.

"What is my heart now"is the debut solo album by Ziemowit Klimek, known so far from bands such as Immortal Onion, Hania Rani, and Magda Kuraś Quintet. It is a cycle of five improvised compositions – "What," "Is," "My," "Heart," and "Now" – unified by a unique artistic concept, with each piece created in collaboration with a different musician.

The creative process for each of the five duets began with a conversation between Ziemowit, the guest artist, and the video team. Deconstructing the title word into its fundamental elements through questions like "What does 'What' mean? What emotions and associations does this word evoke in us? How can we capture its essence in sound and image?" became the starting point for artistic exploration.

To preserve the authenticity of the material as much as possible, both sound and image were recorded live, with no cuts or post-production editing. Equally important was the choice of spaces that corresponded to the meaning of each title word. Instead of sterile studios, the recordings took place in a variety of unique locations – "Heart" was captured in Ziemowit's most personal space, his bedroom, while "Now" was recorded inside a car during a dynamic drive, where the physical forces acting on the musicians significantly influenced their decisions while playing.

The album resonates with dialogue – not only musical but also emotional and intellectual. It is a meeting of individualities who, for Ziemowit, are not only inspirations as artists but also significant people in his life."What is my heart now"is an album about defining one's identity and capturing the moment, created in an atmosphere of honesty and trust. Ultimately, the question arises: is it even possible to definitively answer the question posed in the album's title?

"What Is My Heart Now"

Ziemowit Klimek (Double bass, Bass, Piano, Moog)

feat.

Krzysztof Hadrych - Guitar

Michał Jan Ciesielski - Saxophon, Volca

Hania Rani - Piano

Mikołaj Kostka - Violin

Jacek Prościński - Drums

On Chrystia Cabral's fourth album as SPELLLING, the Bay Area artist transforms her acclaimed avant-pop project into a mirror. Cabral's lyrics for Portrait of My Heart tackle love, intimacy, anxiety, and alienation, trading the allegorical approach of much of her previous work for something pointed into her human heart. The album's thematic forthrightness is echoed in its arrangements, making it the sharpest, most direct SPELLLING album to date. From the dark minimalism of her earliest music to the lavishly orchestrated prog-pop of 2021's The Turning Wheel to this newly energetic expression of her creative spirit, Cabral has proved again and again that SPELLLING can be whatever she needs it to be. The title track, with its propulsive drum groove and anthemic chorus of "I don't belong here," is the most potent embodiment of the album's turn toward emotional directness. Once the main melody emerged, Cabral used the song as a tool to process her anxiety as a performer and opted for a tighter, more rock-oriented composition. This transformation mirrors the album's broader shift toward energy and immediacy, driven by the core band of Wyatt Overson (guitar), Patrick Shelley (drums), and Giulio Xavier Cetto (bass), whose collaboration uncovers new contours of the SPELLLING sound. Cabral still writes and demos in isolation, but presenting the songs for Portrait of My Heart to her bandmates helped her discover their eventual lively, organic forms. So did working with a trio of producers_The Turning Wheel mixing engineer Drew Vandenberg, SZA collaborator Rob Bisel, and Yves Tumor producer Psymun. Key guest contributions further shape the album. Chaz Bear (Toro y Moi) delivers SPELLLING's first duet on "Mount Analogue," Turnstile guitarist Pat McCrory turns Cabral's original piano demo for "Alibi" into the crunchy, riff-y version that appears on the record, while Zulu's Braxton Marcellous gives "Drain" its sludgy heft. These parts aren't just incorporated seamlessly into the album; they feel like an integral part of its universe. Ultimately, though, Portrait of My Heart is nobody's record but Cabral's. She fearlessly draws the curtain back on parts of herself that she's never included in SPELLLING before_her feelings of being an outsider, her overly guarded nature, the way she can throw herself recklessly into intimate relationships and then cool on them just as quickly. "It's very much an open diary of all those sensations," she says.

Auf dem vierten Album von Chrystia Cabral als SPELLLING verwandelt die Künstlerin aus der Bay Area ihr gefeiertes Avant-Pop-Projekt in einen Spiegel. Cabrals Texte auf „Portrait of My Heart“ befassen sich mit Liebe, Intimität, Angst und Entfremdung und tauschen den allegorischen Ansatz vieler ihrer früheren Werke gegen einen Blick in ihr menschliches Herz. Die thematische Unverblümtheit des Albums spiegelt sich in den Arrangements wider und macht es zum bisher schärfsten und direktesten SPELLLING-Album. Vom düsteren Minimalismus ihrer frühesten Musik über den üppig orchestrierten Prog-Pop von „The Turning Wheel“ aus dem Jahr 2021 bis hin zu diesem neuen energiegeladenen Ausdruck ihres kreativen Geistes hat Cabral immer wieder bewiesen, dass SPELLLING alles sein kann, was sie braucht. Der Titeltrack mit seinem treibenden Drum-Groove und dem hymnischen Refrain von „I don't belong here“ ist die stärkste Verkörperung der Hinwendung des Albums zu emotionaler Direktheit. Sobald sich die Hauptmelodie herauskristallisiert hatte, nutzte Cabral den Song als Werkzeug, um ihre Ängste als Performerin zu verarbeiten, und entschied sich für eine straffere, rockigere Komposition. Diese Transformation spiegelt die allgemeine Verlagerung des Albums in Richtung Energie und Unmittelbarkeit wider, die von der Kernband Wyatt Overson (Gitarre), Patrick Shelley (Schlagzeug) und Giulio Xavier Cetto (Bass) vorangetrieben wird, deren Zusammenarbeit neue Konturen des SPELLLING-Sounds offenbart. Cabral schreibt und demontiert immer noch alleine, aber die Präsentation der Songs für „Portrait of My Heart“ vor ihren Bandkollegen hat ihr geholfen, die späteren lebendigen, organischen Formen zu entdecken. Das gilt auch für die Zusammenarbeit mit einem Produzententrio: Drew Vandenberg, der Tontechniker von „The Turning Wheel“, Rob Bisel, der mit SZA zusammenarbeitet, und Psymun, der Produzent von Yves Tumor. Wichtige Gastbeiträge prägen das Album zusätzlich. Chaz Bear (Toro y Moi) liefert SPELLLINGs erstes Duett auf „Mount Analogue“, Turnstile-Gitarrist Pat McCrory verwandelt Cabrals ursprüngliches Piano-Demo für „Alibi“ in die knackige, rifflastige Version, die auf dem Album zu hören ist, während Braxton Marcellous von Zulu „Drain“ seine schlammige Wucht verleiht. Diese Teile fügen sich nicht nur nahtlos in das Album ein, sie fühlen sich wie ein integraler Bestandteil seines Universums an. Letztendlich ist Portrait of My Heart jedoch niemandes Platte, sondern die von Cabral. Sie zieht furchtlos den Vorhang über Teile ihrer selbst zurück, die sie in SPELLLING noch nie gezeigt hat - ihre Gefühle als Außenseiterin, ihre übermäßig vorsichtige Art, die Art und Weise, wie sie sich rücksichtslos in intime Beziehungen stürzen kann, um sie dann genauso schnell wieder abzubrechen. „Es ist wie ein offenes Tagebuch all dieser Empfindungen“, sagt sie.

Auf dem vierten Album von Chrystia Cabral als SPELLLING verwandelt die Künstlerin aus der Bay Area ihr gefeiertes Avant-Pop-Projekt in einen Spiegel. Cabrals Texte auf „Portrait of My Heart“ befassen sich mit Liebe, Intimität, Angst und Entfremdung und tauschen den allegorischen Ansatz vieler ihrer früheren Werke gegen einen Blick in ihr menschliches Herz. Die thematische Unverblümtheit des Albums spiegelt sich in den Arrangements wider und macht es zum bisher schärfsten und direktesten SPELLLING-Album. Vom düsteren Minimalismus ihrer frühesten Musik über den üppig orchestrierten Prog-Pop von „The Turning Wheel“ aus dem Jahr 2021 bis hin zu diesem neuen energiegeladenen Ausdruck ihres kreativen Geistes hat Cabral immer wieder bewiesen, dass SPELLLING alles sein kann, was sie braucht. Der Titeltrack mit seinem treibenden Drum-Groove und dem hymnischen Refrain von „I don't belong here“ ist die stärkste Verkörperung der Hinwendung des Albums zu emotionaler Direktheit. Sobald sich die Hauptmelodie herauskristallisiert hatte, nutzte Cabral den Song als Werkzeug, um ihre Ängste als Performerin zu verarbeiten, und entschied sich für eine straffere, rockigere Komposition. Diese Transformation spiegelt die allgemeine Verlagerung des Albums in Richtung Energie und Unmittelbarkeit wider, die von der Kernband Wyatt Overson (Gitarre), Patrick Shelley (Schlagzeug) und Giulio Xavier Cetto (Bass) vorangetrieben wird, deren Zusammenarbeit neue Konturen des SPELLLING-Sounds offenbart. Cabral schreibt und demontiert immer noch alleine, aber die Präsentation der Songs für „Portrait of My Heart“ vor ihren Bandkollegen hat ihr geholfen, die späteren lebendigen, organischen Formen zu entdecken. Das gilt auch für die Zusammenarbeit mit einem Produzententrio: Drew Vandenberg, der Tontechniker von „The Turning Wheel“, Rob Bisel, der mit SZA zusammenarbeitet, und Psymun, der Produzent von Yves Tumor. Wichtige Gastbeiträge prägen das Album zusätzlich. Chaz Bear (Toro y Moi) liefert SPELLLINGs erstes Duett auf „Mount Analogue“, Turnstile-Gitarrist Pat McCrory verwandelt Cabrals ursprüngliches Piano-Demo für „Alibi“ in die knackige, rifflastige Version, die auf dem Album zu hören ist, während Braxton Marcellous von Zulu „Drain“ seine schlammige Wucht verleiht. Diese Teile fügen sich nicht nur nahtlos in das Album ein, sie fühlen sich wie ein integraler Bestandteil seines Universums an. Letztendlich ist Portrait of My Heart jedoch niemandes Platte, sondern die von Cabral. Sie zieht furchtlos den Vorhang über Teile ihrer selbst zurück, die sie in SPELLLING noch nie gezeigt hat - ihre Gefühle als Außenseiterin, ihre übermäßig vorsichtige Art, die Art und Weise, wie sie sich rücksichtslos in intime Beziehungen stürzen kann, um sie dann genauso schnell wieder abzubrechen. „Es ist wie ein offenes Tagebuch all dieser Empfindungen“, sagt sie.

Zweite 7inch Auskopplung aus dem hervorragenden Thee Sacred Souls Album "Got A Story To Tell"! Das stimmungsvolle Mid-Tempo-Stück „My Heart is Drowning“ beginnt mit einem ahnungsvollen, echogetränkten Tröpfeln, das sich hinter der Geschichte des Sängers Josh Lae über eine verlassene Geliebte verbirgt, die aufgrund vergangener Fehler in Verzweiflung ertrinkt. Mit seinem grüblerischen Piano und der düsteren Bassline würde dieser Song in klassischen R&B- und Soul-Kreisen gleichermaßen gut ankommen. "Stuck in the Mud“ lehnt sich ebenfalls an einen früheren R&B-Sound an, jedoch mit einem subtilen Hauch von Gospel durch den Call-and-Response-Gesang, der diese wunderbare Komposition durchdringt. Soul Fans dürfen sich freuen!

Die Vinyl-Wiederveröffentlichung des selbstbetitelten 5-fach-Platin-Albums von Heart aus dem Jahr 1985
mit den Hits „These Dreams“, „What About Love?“ und „Never“.

London-based vocal and electronic collective NYX have announced their long-anticipated eponymous debut album, to be released digitally and on vinyl on 28th March 2025 via their own label, NYX Collective Records.

Alongside today’s news, they’ve also shared the first single, “Daughters”: a hair-raising, untamed cry that surrenders to the intensity of the human experience. With the lead vocal recorded in a beach-side kitchen in New Zealand, cicadas bleed through the soaring chant and heavy, visceral drums. The track opens soft and earnest, expanding in their rage, resilience, and liberation, transforming pain into a re-wilding of the spirit, a celebration of their collective power.

NYX say of the track: "Daughters” is an initiation into the underworld - an invitation to come face to face with our losses. To look towards the shame, rage, and pain embedded in our bodies, and open through the fear that has closed down our throats. These are our wild voices that want to be heard and loved - by ourselves, by our pack."

NYX is the result of years of collaboration and transformation, reflecting the collective’s signature blend of experimental vocal techniques and electronic alchemy. NYX’s debut album pulses with primal energy and delicate introspection, weaving together the ancient and the futuristic. It’s a spellbinding journey through the human experience, crafted not just to be heard, but also deeply felt.

The album brings together the group's full evolution and experimentation, collaborators on the album include sound designer, composer and NYX string player Alicia Jane Turner, harpist Miriam Adefris, as well as additional drums and production by Memory Play and Sebastian Gainsbourgh (Vessel), artwork by NYX member Shireen Qureshi, co-produced by Marta Salogni and mastered by Heba Kadry.

NYX showcases the choir's far-reaching emotional breadth. The introduction, “Mother”, is inspired by the first chapter of the foundational work of Taoism, Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching. In this, NYX’s opening prayer, the listener finds themselves in a swelling crescendo of NYX’s all-encompassing vocals and synth drones. The album spirals through swirling loops of haunting voices and layered strings that come together like crashing waves, bursting through in feral upheaval. “Through Fire” and “Daughters” erupt into heart-wrenching post-apocalyptic chorus and pounding bass-heavy drums, then slip into a blissful sound bath, “Awe”, whose choir harmonies layered with lush harps radiate pure wonderment, and the closing track, a cover of Suicide’s 1979 “Dream Baby Dream”, dissolves into reverberating echoes. NYX leaves an indelible mark, reminding us of the radical potential of healing and love.

In Greek mythology, NYX is the primordial goddess of the night, born from chaos giving birth to light and day. Inspired by this duality, NYX’s music harnesses the voice as a limitless medium for profound emotion, capturing the vast spectrum of human experience with power and authenticity.

London-based vocal and electronic collective NYX have announced their long-anticipated eponymous debut album, to be released digitally and on vinyl on 28th March 2025 via their own label, NYX Collective Records.

Alongside today’s news, they’ve also shared the first single, “Daughters”: a hair-raising, untamed cry that surrenders to the intensity of the human experience. With the lead vocal recorded in a beach-side kitchen in New Zealand, cicadas bleed through the soaring chant and heavy, visceral drums. The track opens soft and earnest, expanding in their rage, resilience, and liberation, transforming pain into a re-wilding of the spirit, a celebration of their collective power.

NYX say of the track: "Daughters” is an initiation into the underworld - an invitation to come face to face with our losses. To look towards the shame, rage, and pain embedded in our bodies, and open through the fear that has closed down our throats. These are our wild voices that want to be heard and loved - by ourselves, by our pack."

NYX is the result of years of collaboration and transformation, reflecting the collective’s signature blend of experimental vocal techniques and electronic alchemy. NYX’s debut album pulses with primal energy and delicate introspection, weaving together the ancient and the futuristic. It’s a spellbinding journey through the human experience, crafted not just to be heard, but also deeply felt.

The album brings together the group's full evolution and experimentation, collaborators on the album include sound designer, composer and NYX string player Alicia Jane Turner, harpist Miriam Adefris, as well as additional drums and production by Memory Play and Sebastian Gainsbourgh (Vessel), artwork by NYX member Shireen Qureshi, co-produced by Marta Salogni and mastered by Heba Kadry.

NYX showcases the choir's far-reaching emotional breadth. The introduction, “Mother”, is inspired by the first chapter of the foundational work of Taoism, Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching. In this, NYX’s opening prayer, the listener finds themselves in a swelling crescendo of NYX’s all-encompassing vocals and synth drones. The album spirals through swirling loops of haunting voices and layered strings that come together like crashing waves, bursting through in feral upheaval. “Through Fire” and “Daughters” erupt into heart-wrenching post-apocalyptic chorus and pounding bass-heavy drums, then slip into a blissful sound bath, “Awe”, whose choir harmonies layered with lush harps radiate pure wonderment, and the closing track, a cover of Suicide’s 1979 “Dream Baby Dream”, dissolves into reverberating echoes. NYX leaves an indelible mark, reminding us of the radical potential of healing and love.

In Greek mythology, NYX is the primordial goddess of the night, born from chaos giving birth to light and day. Inspired by this duality, NYX’s music harnesses the voice as a limitless medium for profound emotion, capturing the vast spectrum of human experience with power and authenticity.

Cactus Lee ist texanische Musik in ihrem Kern, eine Mischung aus Austin-Nachtclub-Vibes und staubiger Dancefloor-Energie. Cactus Lee ist ein Projekt des Austiner Songwriters Kevin Dehan und spiegelt eine tiefe Liebe zu texanischen Country-Songwritern wider, die mit dem kühnen Geist von Outlaw- und Outsider-Einflüssen verwoben ist. Mit einem Sound, der gleichzeitig kindlich, verträumt und scharfsinnig ist und an Ikonen wie John Prine und Tom T. Hall erinnert, hat sich Cactus Lee seit seiner Gründung 2019 eine unverwechselbare Nische in der Musikwelt geschaffen. Über sechs Alben, darunter zwei Veröffentlichungen im Jahr 2023, ein Live-Album und mehrere EPs, waren Dehans Songwriting und seine auf vier Spuren selbst aufgenommenen Bemühungen die Grundlage für ein sich ständig weiterentwickelndes Projekt. Auf dem neuen, selbstbetitelten Album Cactus Lee beschäftigen sich die Songs mit Themen wie Liebe, Verlust, Familie und Selbstfindung und bieten flüchtige Momentaufnahmen von Charakteren und Momenten, die von einem einladenden texanischen Charme durchdrungen sind. Das Eröffnungsstück "Rabbit" stellt einen verliebten, aber schwer fassbaren Protagonisten vor, der durch Bukka Allens Akkordeon und Adam Amrams ansteckenden Rhythmus zum Leben erweckt wird. "Sister" ist ein zartes Versprechen auf bessere Zeiten und gemeinsame Momente, perfekt für offene Straßen und luftige Tage. Roll Maggie" mit seinem Zusammenspiel von Saxophon und Steel-Gitarre erforscht das Glücksspiel der Liebe als ein aufregendes Glücksspiel. "Got A Heart Like Rainwater Blues" zelebriert die unnachgiebigen Bande einer Familie auf der Flucht, durchdrungen von einer bluesigen Unverwüstlichkeit. "Lorelei" zeichnet das rätselhafte Porträt einer fesselnden Figur, untermalt von Doo-Wop-Harmonien. "The Fiddler" fängt die hypnotische Magie einer Tanzfläche ein, untermalt von einem eindringlichen Bratschensolo. "Twenty Dollars", das das Album abschließt, ist eine zutiefst persönliche Ode an Dehans Tochter Jolene. Das selbstbetitelte Album von Cactus Lee unterstreicht die Fähigkeit von Kevin Dehan, die Essenz des texanischen Twang in Songs zu destillieren, die weit über den Lone Star State hinaus Anklang finden, und zwar durch eindrucksvolle Texte und eine durchdachte Instrumentierung.

Brand new studio album from rising British metal hopefuls Seven Sisters! Slowly but surely cultivating a reputation for captivating, progressive heavy metal topped with finesse and intelligence, Seven Sisters have positioned themselves as one of the most intriguing young bands in the metal scene, combining an ethereal edge with genuinely catchy hooks and melodies. Comprising of just four tracks, but with a running time of 40 minutes, 'Shadow of A Fallen Star Pt.2' is at once ambitious and accessible, whether utilizing classic heavy metal tropes on lead single 'Heart Of The Sun' or experimenting with emotive atmospheres and ambitious sound collages on the sprawling 20 minute centerpiece 'Andromeda Ascending (A Fallen Star Rises)'.

Songbook by Masha Qrella, released 28 March 2025, includes the following tracks: "Heart Failed ", "Countryside (again)", "Erinnerungen an gestern", "I want to break free" and more.

Rock and Rock roots, deep down under You'd better believe it! The roots of Australian rockers AC/DC lie in the whirlwind of original fifties rock and roll.
In the early days the group would cut their teeth on the club circuit with a live set that would include a handful of band originals,a few Rolling Stones numbers plus many crowd pleasing Rock and Roll classics.
The Sydney club and bar scene was rough so you had to get the punters on your side.
With their original singer Dave Evans at the helm the group who play residencies at the likes of the New Hampton Court Hotel in Sydney entertaining with their own brand of loud guitar takes of 'Carol' and 'Bye Bye Johnny'by Chuck Berry,'Tutti Frutti'by Little Richard,as well as rocking standards like 'Shake,rattle and roll' and 'Blue Suede Shoes'.
Cranking out cover versions didn't die even when the group composed more original material,a version of 'School Days' by Chuck Berry would appear on their second album' TNT',whilst 'Baby Please Don't Go' would be pulled from their original 1975 debut album'High Voltage' and issued as a single in America.
These roots are the reason that AC/DC have become one of the best loved bands on the planet who never fail to deliver the goods everytime.......

2025 Repress

"Hydroplane reinstate their formidable 1997 debut of sublime guitar atmospherics, fragile lyricism and droning incidentals with an overdue vinyl and digital reissue.

An offshoot of the now-féted The Cat’s Miaow, the trio formed after drummer Cameron Smith decamped to London, charting new territory with tape loops, manipulated samples and a borrowed Jupiter 4 in the wake of Endtroducing. Adopting a handle that Dean Wareham once considered calling Luna, Hydroplane intended to only ever release Excerpts From Forthcoming LP, a single-sided 7” sonic collage, before imploding in mystery. Their label however insisted they deliver their taunted album. From the comfort of a Brunswick flat, they continued to record soaring melodies and restrained song structures to 4-track, sculpting dramatic Radiophonic Workshop cues weighted in reverb and near-perfect dream pop lead by Kerrie Bolton’s empyrean vocals.

Bored of industry expectation and largely ignored by local audiences, the reluctant performers followed the way of The Cannanes and formed meaningful overseas alliances by mail and phone, securing releases on Michigan outpost Drive-In and Broadcast launching pad Wurlitzer Jukebox. Championed by John Peel with twenty spins on his converted Radio One slot and even polling in Festive Fifty of 1997, the humble three-piece still walked to their neighbourhood shops undetected.

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

Infonabeat Records proudly unveils ISSR A003, its third Various Artists album—a meticulously crafted collection of peak-time techno designed to shake the dance floor. Showcasing the distinct styles of Ixbalanke, Netika, Forest People, and DJ Drexc, this release channels the raw intensity and energy that drives techno’s heartbeat.
Each track on ISSR A003 is engineered to amplify sound systems and energize the crowd. Ixbalanke’s hypnotic grooves lay down entrancing foundations, while Netika’s powerful layering brings depth to every beat. Forest People’s experimental edge cuts through with relentless force, and DJ Drexc’s mastery of basslines rounds out this dynamic lineup, making the album an essential tool for selectors and an unforgettable experience for dancers.
ISSR A003 is an unfiltered techno experience, ready to take listeners into the pulsating world of Infonabeat Records—where every beat is made for the dance floor.