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A month before the pandemic hit Norway – and the rest of the world for that sake – Darling west released their fourth album, «We’ll Never Know Unless We Try». They managed to get through two or three shows before everything was canceled, and the country went into lockdown. It may sound a bit counterintuitive to records a live album while in lockdown, but that is exactly what Darling West decided to do. When Norway partly opened during the fall of 2020, the band recorded their gigs at Parkteatret in Oslo and at Folken in Stavanger, and these recordings make out the songs on «Live 2020». Even though the gigs were played at venues with restricted capacity, it’s nice to see that they can reach bigger a bigger audience with this recording. «Live 2020» consists of songs from Darling West’s entire catalogue, and you can almost hear that they’ve been longing to play live on a stage. It had been six months since they’d been in front of an audience when these recordings were made, and the energy in the rooms were very special. This record is a document of this.

There is a moment halfway through Hand Habits’ Fun Houseat which musician Meg Duffy asks the question, “How many times must I rewind the tape?”It’s a fitting question planted squarely in the middle of a sonically adventurous record concerned largely with making sense and taking stock. How much time must we spend examining our own past in order to fully understand it? How can we safely acknowledge pain in order to release it and fully actualize who we are supposed to be? Buffeted by strings, synths, and a gently-shook tambourine, the aptly-titled track, “The Answer,” highlights the emotional engine at the heart of the record. “I know the answer,”Duffy sings, “Here’s what I hope to find - it’s always mine.”

There is a moment halfway through Hand Habits’ Fun Houseat which musician Meg Duffy asks the question, “How many times must I rewind the tape?”It’s a fitting question planted squarely in the middle of a sonically adventurous record concerned largely with making sense and taking stock. How much time must we spend examining our own past in order to fully understand it? How can we safely acknowledge pain in order to release it and fully actualize who we are supposed to be? Buffeted by strings, synths, and a gently-shook tambourine, the aptly-titled track, “The Answer,” highlights the emotional engine at the heart of the record. “I know the answer,”Duffy sings, “Here’s what I hope to find - it’s always mine.”

On September 24, Raleigh-based, globally acclaimed band The Connells release Steadman’s Wake, their first new album in over 20 years. The Connells started recording music in the autumn of 1984, and since their debut album Dark Days, the band has gone on to amass world wide acclaim for their melodic and introspective alternative rock sound. The band’s 5th studio album, 1993’s Ring (featuring their hit "'74–'75") reached top 10 status in 11 European countries, peaking at #1 in Norway and Sweden.

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

Over nearly 20 years, Howlin Rain may have become the quintessential independent American rock ’n roll band: a steam-spitting Hydra of cranked guitars, kicking asphalt dust through a kaleidoscoping travelogue of desert motels and dives, volleying forth transmissions of sci-fi poetry from the blacktop veins of this cracked and aching country.

Now, in America 2021, capping these strangest and sorest of times, the band returns with The Dharma Wheel, a six-track, 52-minute dive into a joyous fantasy realm of exaggerated present.

“I wanted The Dharma Wheel to be a portal from our everyday world, the one from which you stand on hard ground and hold the album in your hands and peer into the artwork, and into another universe,” says songwriter, guitarist and vocalist, Ethan Miller. “You enter into that universe with your eyes and ears and mind and take a ride through free-form meditation on these ideas — from big, fundamental concepts about our existence right down to the grease that rolls down the arm of a pulp novel killer as he eats a gas station hot dog in an old Dodge in an alleyway.”

Lyrically, Miller has completed his evolution into a mushroom-plucking Whitman of the West, singing outlandish tales in a topographic blend of Humbead’s Revised Map of the World and an inverted U.S. where downtrodden bodhisattvas roam the back streets and moonless country roads.

“Down in Florida swamps, run by nature’s law, standing in the water, Eden gone. Two men loading rifles, beasts making time, they shot a boy from an orange tree and watched the colored birds take flight, watch the colors as they soar and dive.” — ‘Under the Wheels.’

The band, Jeff McElroy (bass, backing vocals), Justin Smith (drums/percussion, backing vocals) and Dan Cervantes (guitar, backing vocals), again sounds hardwired into Miller’s vision, building tracks that swagger and sway in response to his verse. Lending a hand this time around is the legendary Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue) on violin, and the endlessly inventive Adam MacDougall (Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Circles Around the Sun) on keys.

Songs were shaped via the blast furnace of endless gigs, then recorded often mere hours after the band slipped the stage.

“The captured sonic fact about this record is that it’s the sound of a band that rehearsed this material a lot and put a ton of work into its construction and was on the road a lot and recorded on days off in the tour schedule,” Miller says. “In some cases we were on stage on Saturday night playing these songs at quarter-to-2 in the morning and by Noon the next day we were sipping coffee in the studio playing them for the machine.”

Rivera’s violin is the first sound heard as the album dawns on the instrumental “Prelude.” Soon, the band joins, twirling the theme into a psychedelicized awakening. “Don’t Let the Tears” brings the boogie, with MacDougall’s madcap synth work and wah-wah guitars showering 70’s glitter upon a parquet dance floor of the mind. “Under the Wheels” and “Rotoscope” center the album with taut, compositional epics populated by murdering drifters and fuzz pedal explosions. The blue hour comedown of “Annabelle” meditates upon the weariness of lost love, with Rivera again amping the heartache via her violin strings.

“In the evening the trains go by, and shake the dust from dirty walls, sometimes I feel like a spider in an old mason jar, who threatens only convex light from down the hall. I’ve been lost to the world since the photos of the black hole, landed on my desktop screaming, perhaps the all and nothing all-in-one is just too much to take, for particles and matter that never found their way.” — ‘Annabelle’

The record closes with the 16-minute title track, a multi-movement suite which cycles from Crazy Horse-meets-Traffic jams through colossal, mass-moving funk stomp, eventually cresting and washing into a sing-along gospel lament.

The Dharma Wheel is an album of great depth, and one steeped in good vibes: a rich, glistening world of the ultra-vivid. As illustrated in Arik Roper’s cover art, the grand dharmachakra has been set in motion, churning off the California coast.

“We were trying to build a world big enough that the imagination won’t go soft on you after just a few listens and where our love for this music, and music in general — along with a good dose of audacity — create a magic carpet ride through the world of The Dharma Wheel,” Miller continues. “In pursuing that I think we also managed to make a record that has a lot of joy in it: the joy of playing music, the joy of experiencing music, the joy of storytelling and poetry, the kind of singular joy and extended ecstatic moment that only a real ‘band’ can express in just that way.”

And it’s this joy, this exuberance and dedication to the lines of cosmic expression — all centered in the exalted art of the everyday — that constructs the heart of the record. At its core, The Dharma Wheel is the triumph of a working band, a transmission from a never-paused before arriving for our strange, bruised, spectacular now.”

On Now Where Were We, The Exbats hit the ground running like
a dystopian garage rock version of the Shangri-Las, or like
a message to the future from the pre-Velvet Underground doowop
wannabe Lou Reed. The album rings bright, like a beacon
in the wilderness: eminently, effortlessly catchy, and loaded
with buoyant choruses that rank alongside the best chart-toppers
launched by the Brill Building or Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound.
Kenny McClain and his daughter, vocalist and drummer
Inez McClain, formed the nucleus of the Exbats over a decade
ago, when Inez was just 10 years old; today, Bobby Carlson
rounds out the group on bass. Despite their remote location in
Bisbee, Arizona, just eleven miles north of the U.S.-Mexican
border, the group quickly racked up accolades citing a wealth of
influences that run from cartoon quintet the Archies to punk rock
originators the Avengers, and from the so-sweet-it-hurts 1910
Fruitgum Company to Los Angeles antiheroes the Weirdos.
Truthfully, The Exbats embrace a wider swath of musical styles,
incorporating blue-eyed soul, tongue-in-cheek country, Brit
pop, psych, and R&B into their sound.
The McClains describe this album as “more ambitious” than
its predecessors. They tooled ninety minutes northeast to Tucson
to record, per usual, with Matt Rendon at Midtown Island Studios.
Months later, the Exbats emerged with an album imbued
with harmoniously cautious optimism—the musical equivalent
but psychological antithesis to the Brian Wilson-Tony Asher
masterpiece “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times.” While Wilson
was looking for “a place to fit in,” The Exbats have found
sanctuary via the brilliant “Ghost In The Record Store,” which
is “for all of us who need the joy of a little bit of plastic making
lots of noise.” Like the best records to croon along with, Now
Where Were We is captivatingly simple, yet hardly simplistic.
The Exbats are singing from their hearts—and they aren’t afraid
to bare their souls.

The Velveteers, ein Rock-Trio aus den Bergen von Boulder, CO, bestehend aus Sängerin/Gitarristin Demi
Demitro und den Schlagzeugern Baby Pottersmith und Jonny Fig, werden am 8. Oktober ihr Debütalbum
”Nightmare Daydream” über Easy Eye Sound-Concord veröffentlichen; Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger
Dan Auerbach, ist das Album das lang erwartete erste Statement einer Band, die sich 2014 gründete und
seither sorgfältig an ihrem Sound und ihrer Identität gefeilt hat.
Aufgewachsen in Boulder, rebellierte Demitro durch ihre Gitarre, übte bis zu neun Stunden am Tag und
vernachlässigte die Schule, um einen Spielstil zu entwickeln, der schwer, aber beweglich ist, theatralisch,
aber nuanciert, in der Rockgeschichte verwurzelt, aber völlig eigenwillig. Mit Pottersmith und Fig, die
an einem gemeinsamen Drum-Set spielten, entwickelte die Band einen Ruf für ihre mitreißenden Auftritte.
Clips von den Live-Shows und DIY-Videos der Band schafften es bis zu Auerbach, der sie in sein Studio in
Nashville einlud, um ”Nightmare Daydream” zu produzieren.
”Ich mochte sie sofort”, sagt Auerbach. ”Sie sind live unglaublich, und ihre Videos sind so kreativ. Und
sie klingen einfach so kraftvoll. Jedes Mal, wenn man Schlagzeug auf einer Platte doppelspurig aufnimmt, klingt es so heavy. Wenn man das dann noch mit Demitros Baritongitarre kombiniert, klingt es so
bombastisch. Es gibt nichts Vergleichbares.”

Die zweifache GRAMMY-Preisträgerin Natalie Hemby gilt als eine der bemerkenswertesten Songwriterinnen
der Musikbranche, die hinter den Kulissen einen Hit nach dem anderen kreiert. Jetzt steht sie kurz vor dem
Durchbruch, mit der Veröffentlichung ihres zweiten Studioalbums ”Pins and Needles” am 8. Oktober.
Bekannt für ihren vielseitigen Sound und ihre Geschichten, die ihr acht Nummer-1-Singles einbrachten,
erkundet Hemby auf ihrem Album Einflüsse von Tom Petty über Sheryl Crow bis hin zum Rock und Roots
der frühen 90er Jahre: Musik, mit der sie aufgewachsen ist. In den 11 Tracks liefert Hemby unkonventionelle Texte gepaart mit ihrer genialen Wortwahl, Ohrwurm-Hymnen, herzzerreißenden Balladen bis hinzu
tiefgründigen Rock-Songs. Hemby schafft Songs, die sich wie kostbare Momente anfühlen, an die man sich
gerne erinnert.

* An uplifting soulful vocal from Lucy Vandy riding a tuff digital rhythm dating from 1995
* Production comes from Riz All Stars (Nick Manasseh and Gil Cang) with a stripped down dub ‘Big Hearted Version’ on the flip.
* First time on 45.
B. Riz All Stars – Big Hearted Version

* UK roots classic dating from 1993 and originally appearing on the Sound `n’ Pressure label.
* A massive highly sought-after sound system favourite from the 90’s with conscious vocals and solid bassline which is not for the faint-hearted. The vocal cut is complimented with two militant dub versions, one of which is previously unreleased on vinyl.

As escapism from corporate banality turned the corner in the `90s, a new generation of vibrant, software generated soundscapes emerged. Communal access to the internet propagated the new hive mind of ideas online, giving way to smoother, stress-free textures. The PC revolution opened the gateway to ray-traced playgrounds of color and light, allowing for visions of utopic proportions to manifest themselves on screensavers far and wide. Boot up your machine, load the software on this floppy diskette, and drop out of a reality bounded by the physical laws of the universe. Numero 95 is the soundtrack to the screen saver fever dream we're all trying to climb back into. Eight droplets of proto-vaporwave, synthesized in vinyl (or digital) form, fresh from Numero's archive of forgotten sounds. Are you looking for that half way point between smooth jazz and new age? Mac and PC? Quantum Leap and the X-Files? This software is for you. Housed in a replica floppy diskette, Numero 95 explores an early computer music unbound by scene or region. Eight solo pioneers vibing out at home in their headphones, traveling as far as the sound card would allow. This is music that barely escaped the hard drive and yet percolates at the edges of the algorithm 30 years later. Welcome to Numero 95.

Nanocluster Vol 1. is an album with some serious pedigree. It sees Immersion (aka Malka Spigel and Colin Newman of influential groups Minimal Compact and Wire respectively) collaborating with some of the finest left field artists of our era: Tarwater, Laetitia Sadier, Ulrich Schnauss and Scanner. The project was born out of a Brighton based club night, also called Nanocluster, run by Spigel and Newman alongside writer, broadcaster and DJ Graham Duff, and promoter Andy Rossiter. The club features a range of influential and cutting edge music acts. But the unique aspect of the evenings is that each show climaxes with a one off collaboration between Immersion and the headliners. The songs having been written and recorded in the studio in just three days prior to the performance - or one day in the case of Schnauss. "It could have just been a series of performances." Says Newman.? "But the fact that we had built the tracks in the studio for the performances means we had these recordings." Says Spigel. The recordings have since been developed with Immersion heading up pro- duction duties. The result is a beautiful and unique album.? "I think the really interesting thing is how different everybody is," says Spigel. "Both as people and creatively." - Immersion and Tarwater: The German duo of Ronald Lippok and Bernd Jestram have created an impressive body of work. Yet their involvement with Immersion has opened out their sound, creating a more panoramic soundscape. The opening instrumental 'Ripples' is a gentle breathe of optimism, all purring tones and sun dazzled synths. Meanwhile, 'Mrs. Wood' is a dubby psychedelic shuffle, Lippok's vocal cool and assured over a fat bass line and skybound eastern melodics. It feels like a more spacious take on the Tarwater of albums such as 'Suns, Animals and Atoms'. The four musicians' 3rd collaboration is Nanocluster's most pop moment: with a heartfelt yet unsentimental lyric unfurling over feline rhythms, 'All You Cat Lovers' is a feel-good anthem for cat lovers everywhere. - Immersion and Laetitia Sadier: An original and distinctive presence in contemporary music, Sadier made her name with the inimitable Stereolab, but she's also created several impressive solo works. The instrumental 'Unclustered' sees Sadier's spidery guitar weaving through Immersion's lush web of synths drones. The following 'Uncensored' has a subtle melodic tug with a classic Spigel guitar line underpinning Sadier's sweet yet worldly wise vocal. 'Riding the Wave' is another feel good song, swapping between Newman's plaintive vocal, and Spigel's vocal and Sadier's backing vocals. With its uplifting chorus: 'Things have a way of working out' 'Riding The Wave' feels like it might be the sound of the summer we've all been waiting for. - Immersion & Ulrich Schnauss: A highly respected solo artist, as well as being a member of Tangerine Dream, Schnauss' skill with electronics is legendary. The opening 'Remember Those Days On The Road' skips along on a rimshot rhythm with Spigel's honeyed vocal telling a tale of life on tour. Yet it is far removed from such usual fare. This feels vulnerable and flecked with melancholy. 'Skylarks' opens with a lattice of arpeggios before a gently nag- ging guitar enters and everything takes a turn for the sublime. 'So Much Green' is everything you'd hope a collaboration between Newman, Spigel and Schnauss could be. A constantly spiralling urban-kosmisch, with Spigel's plangent bass anchoring the celestial sounds. The addition of her wordless backing vocals and recordings of real birdsong only serve to elevate the mood further. - Immersion & Scanner: Scanner - aka Robin Rimbaud - is one of the most prolific and diverse artists currently working in contemporary music. Spigel and Newman have of course collaborated extensively with Rimbaud before: alongside Max Franken in the art-pop group Githead. But this is something very different. Their opening piece together: 'Cataliz' is the album's moodiest moment. With its serpentine synth drones it sounds like the soundtrack to a mysterious thriller. The rich pulsing 'Metrosphere' recalls Immersion's early work whilst adding another layer of grainy uncertainty. The closing 'The Mundane and the Profound' opens with a "Rimbaud scanned" recording of an irritated flight attendant but this is eventually subsumed by a simple yet emotive piano figure: a gentle and touching end to a unique collection of songs. Nanocluster Vol.1 is a testament to a remarkable synergy between a diverse assembly of strongly individual talents. The fact that it not only succeeds, but excels should be cause for celebration.