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*MILKY CLEAR VINYL - 300 COPIES ONLY FOR WORLD!!* Technology + Teamwork’s fizzling synths, interweaving textures and punchy rhythms are beguiling on their long-awaited debut album We Used To Be Friends. However, at the heart of it all it’s the connection between the group’s two members, Anthony Silvester and Sarah Jones, the friendship the much-travelled duo have managed to maintain for nearly 15 years and a showcase of the slow-burning construction of the electronic world that they’ve surrounded themselves with. We Used To Be Friends is ultimately the tale of two storied artists in their own right, holding onto each other through personal and career twists and turns, relocations and broader movements through respective phases of their lives. Silvester and Jones first met and then collaborated as part of biting post-punk five-piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter’s demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Harry Styles and Bloc Party among many others, Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music – she’s also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including: Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Vleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology + Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. “Technology + Teamwork's name perfectly describes how we work” Silvester explains. “Sometimes the teamwork is between each other and sometimes it’s between us and the technology.” Although going by the name Technology + Teamwork as far back as 2014, two events conspired that pulled the project into focus for the pair of them: firstly, Silvester spent a year constructing a soundproof studio shed on the border of London and Essex where he lives. Secondly, inevitably, the pandemic brought the globe-trotting Jones back home to just seven miles away from her long-time collaborator and friend. “We probably hung out more than we had for a few years” says Silvester. “Also, after all her Pillow Person releases Sarah had gotten really good with recording vocals and knowing what did and didn’t work and had a really good home studio set up. We still worked separately though, exchanging ideas via email and WhatsApp.” As with many artists through 2020 and early 2021, working separately was a new necessity that they were forced to adapt to. However, it became clear that there were creative benefits to it. “It really changed our sound and our sounds became a lot more focused as a result” Jones says. “I wanted to use the same ideas of improvisation that I might use while playing the drums for myself and apply that to melodies and lyrics.” The album bristles with hyperpop modernity. You can hear it in the manipulated vocals most prominently on Big Blue’s disco strut and on Moving Too’s heady mix of pitched up voice and burrowing sub bass. However, the pair also looked to San Francisco and the West Coast synthesis movement of the 60s, Silvester inspired by the likes of Suzanne Ciani and Don Buchla. The plaintive lo-fi and melancholy of Amsterdam incorporates Mutable Instrument’s Marbles by Émilie Gillet which – inspired by Buchla’s own synthesis work – outputs random voltages to give the track an air of unpredictability. It’s something that occurs throughout the album, the duo revelling in the happy accidents that disrupt the flow of their hook-laden pop. “The ‘Buchlian’ ideas of music having randomness and uncertainty, completely freed us up” Silvester explains. “It felt a bit like having more members in the band, machines that didn't do what you expected or intended.” Perhaps more subtly, is the influence of 17th and 18th century Baroque music, with Silvester drawing a line between it and the 90’s R’n’B he and Jones both love – exemplified perhaps best on K+B’s percussive claps and sultry grooves. The portentous juddering synthpop of the title track, meanwhile, alludes specifically to Handel’s Sarabande. It’s typical of an album that only needs a scratch of its seemingly glossy surface to unearth a myriad of contorted touchstones and reference points that’ve fermented beneath it. Thematically there’s an anxious sense to the record, with tracks often balancing above a quiet sense of unerring tension even at their most bombastic. Moving Too is the result of an existential doubt that hit Silvester while out cycling, with the outro refrain "it's not enough to die you also have to be forgotten" a take on something Samuel Beckett once said. These worries are echoed on the album’s closing track What A Year, which borrows a lot of lines from the late drag performer and fashion designer Dorian Corey including the grimly defiant "you're gonna leave your mark somewhere in this world just by getting through it”. Those clouds offer a counter point to We Used To Be Friends, but then isn’t that what great pop albums do? Technology + Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing here is particularly linear – and it’s all the better for it. Bio: Anthony Silvester & Sarah Jones first collaborated as part of biting post-punk five piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter's demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Bat for Lashes, Harry Styles and Bloc Party (among many others), Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music - she's also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Wleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology & Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. "We Used To Be Friends" proves that Technology & Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing hear is particularly linear - and it's all the better for it.

Loved by parents and children for its heartfelt and funny portrayal of young family life and celebration of play, the season follows Bluey, a six-year-old Blue Heeler dog, who loves to play and turns everyday family life into extraordinary adventures that unfold in unpredictable and hilarious ways, bringing her family, friends and community into her world of fun.

Bluey ‘The Album’ was released in January 2021 in Australia and the US and was a phenomenal success reaching #1 in the Australian ARIA charts and #1 in the US Billboard Kids Album Charts.

The initial pressing of the vinyl exclusive to Australia Record Store Day 2021 sold out.

Now the chart topping album is available on vinyl globally for the first time. Pressed on 140g blue coloured vinyl, the album features 17 songs, all original compositions from Season 1. Housed in the original album artwork this release includes an A3 colour poster of the
family neighbourhood.

Highlights include music from fan favourite episodes such as ‘Keepy Uppy’, ‘Here Come The Grannies!’, ‘Pool’ and ‘The Creek’. Two versions of the catchy theme tune are included – as an
extended version and ‘Instrument Parade’.

Side A features upbeat songs to get the whole family dancing like ‘The Claw’ and ‘Taxi’. Side B takes a tranquil tone with highlights ‘I Know A Place (The Creek Song)’, vocals by Helena Czajka & Jazz D'Arcy, and ‘Camping’. This is the perfect album for Bluey fans of any age.

Nachdem er in den späten Sechzigern als Frontmann des beliebten jamaikanischen Gesangstrios The Paragons eine Reihe von erfolgreichen Rocksteady-Singles aufgenommen hatte, wurde John Holt zu einem der beliebtesten jamaikanischen Solokünstler, der eine Reihe von Reggae-Hits für viele der führenden Plattenproduzenten der Insel produzierte.

Der internationale Durchbruch gelang ihm 1974 mit dem äußerst populären Album "1000 Volts of Holt", das raue Reggae-Rhythmen mit raffinierten Orchesterarrangements verband.

Der Höhepunkt des Albums war die Bearbeitung von Kris Kristofferssons Country-Hit "Help Me Make It Through The Night", der im darauf folgenden Jahr zu einem weltweiten Hit wurde und als Single Platz 6 der britischen Charts erreichte.
In den folgenden Jahren blieb Holt ein Gigant der Reggae-Szene mit weiteren Bestsellern und zahlreichen ausverkauften Shows auf der ganzen Welt.

Das Beste aus seinem Solowerk wurde auf dieser "Essential Artist"-Compilation zusammengestellt, der neuesten Veröffentlichung in der neu eingeführten Reihe von Trojan Records, die die Arbeit von Jamaikas beliebtesten Foundation-Künstlern vorstellt. Erhältlich als
28-Track-Doppel-Vinyl-LP und als umfassende 2CD-Compilation, veranschaulicht die Sammlung auf hervorragende Weise das Talent, das John Holt zu einem der beliebtesten und beständigsten Sänger der Reggae-Musik gemacht hat.

In a booming Swiss rocksteady and ska scene, COSMIC SHUFFLING is once again affirming itself as a rising star of the genre on a intergalactic scale. The band's first album, MAGIC ROCKET
SHIP, released in the midst of the pandemic, was a huge hit with fans of the Jamaican sound of the 1960s. Three years later, the Geneva-based septet is back in force with a new album, COSMIC QUEST, featuring eleven vocal tracks ranging from fiery ska worthy of the best years of the Skatalites and Soul Brothers ('Eclipse', 'Walk On By'), to exquisitely melancholy rocksteady ballads ('Birds of Spring', 'Dusk Till Dawn'), to bright early reggae with a touch of 1950s mento ('By The
Rivers').


Fans of vintage sound will be delighted by the sound of this new album elaborated in the raw and warm aesthetics of analog saturation that made the beauty of the golden age of Jamaican music.
Under the guidance of Swiss producer Mathias Liengme, the renowned Spanish sound engineer Roberto Sánchez has mixed this superb opus with class and character. The sound is just like the
cover of the album: against a lunar backdrop, in the glowing light of the setting sun, Cosmic Shuffling’s magnificent seven delight the hearts of the convinced as well as the undecided with the
exhilarating sound of their irresistibly danceable Cosmic Quest. Let yourself be carried away!

Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the

Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”

Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of

imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”

Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”

“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.

It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Orange Vinyl

»Love As Projection« is the new album by Frankie Rose, her fifth studio LP and second for Night School following the reissue of her interpretation of The Cure’s »Seventeen Seconds«. Frankie Rose has forged an enviable musical legacy, from playing with bands like Crystal Stilts and The Vivian Girls but on »Love As Projection« she takes a bold step into electronic pop production. A sumptuous recorded statement, it dances in ecstasy and broods on the tumult of the western world’s decay in equal proportion. At the heart of the album is glowing, confident songwriting, resplendent in hooks and choruses but still touched with an optimism undimmed.

After spending nearly two decades establishing herself across New York and Los Angeles independent music circles, Rose re-emerges after six years with a fresh form, aesthetic, and ethos. Celebrated over the years for her expansive approach to songwriting, lush atmospherics, and transcendent vocal melodies and harmonies, »Love As Projection« is a reintroduction of her established style through the lens of contemporary electronic pop. Recorded with producer Brandt Gassman and mixed with long-term collaborator Jorge Elbrecht this is the album Frankie Rose has been building up to her entire career.

More than a rebirth, a refinement, a resurgence, »Love As Projection« boasts a widescreen scope: a long- form project heavily considered for half of a decade, culminating in the most personal and accessible collection of art-pop that Frankie has ever written. When Rose aims for the pop jugular as in first lead track »Anything«, the result is unstoppable. A majestic pop song built for radio, it erupts into an irresistible chorus that marries classic epic 80s American pop with the cult effervescence of Strawberry Switchblade »It’s like a prom scene in a John Hughes movie. It’s a hopeful song about abandoning fear even if the world is quite literally on fire.. In the end, at least we have each other,« says Rose. »Sixteen Ways« further boasts a propulsive, massive chorus, though tempered by a cynicism built in global post-truth, global malaise. »It’s about getting your hopes up, but simultaneously making lists in your head about how it will never work out in your favour.«

The big anthems don’t let up there. On »DOA« some massive, rolling drums lathered in big mid-80s gated reverb dovetail with a syncopated baseline for the ages as Rose’s vocal sails effortlessly above. The effect isn’t unlike ethereal vocalists Clannad circa Howard’s Way or Enya jamming with Simple Minds in their stadium-conquering heyday. Rose tempers the adrenalin with heart-tugging bittersweet tones and there are plenty of them. »Sleeping Night And Day« takes its time with an off-the-cuff chorus, swirling around in harmony and chorus-bass. »Saltwater Girl« picks up the balladeering baton with another nod to album track-mode Switchblade, deep space opening up in the mid-tempo drum track and soupy, digital atmospherics. Album closer »Song For A Horse«, reimagines modern Pop production a-la-PC Music but shorn of the meta-atmosphere. Pianos, swelling synths, minor keys cut through with major. These moments, also seen in Feel Light offer ballast to the soaring pop choruses. Moments like these are big oceans of emotion to fall into before being led out by Rose into a bright new day.

»Love As Projection« is released in the USA by Slumberland.

Two years after their previous effort, regular as clockwork, Swiss throbbing synth pop duo Veil Of Light is back with a new album and what can we say? These guys keep on getting better and better.

If you have followed the Zurich-based outfit over the past few years, you must have noticed the constant moving towards 80’s FM new wave and synthpop tones – without losing their electro/body music outline – that have marked the band’s parable, especially since their latest Landslide LP.

Sundancing is their sixth full-length and it stays the course, bringing what we’ve just said to the next step. Nine new dancy and bright tunes with emotional depth that blend lush instrumentation and robust rhythms, guided by funky and rubbery basslines. Syncopated rhythm sections match suburban cool synths in the lead single Apricot Kiss and Hypersleep, while Raindancing and Tonight summon a sinuosity long gone since the mid Eighties. The musical backdrop here serves as the fundament for emotional vocals delivering lyrics dealing with the fragility of love, joy and loneliness.

There’s some subtle addictiveness to these songs, one that will gently grab you by the collar of your coat and stick the refrains from Sundancing inside your head for good.
Veil Of Light might make it look easy to keep it neat without being minimalist, intimate without being depressing, romantic in the most true sense of the word, but we know that’s possibly the hardest thing to do.

Beatservice Records are beyond thrilled to announce the arrival of Kohib's hotly anticipated studio album 'Today's Tales Of Tomorrow'.

DJ, producer and club organiser Øivind 'Kohib' Sjøvoll has been in truly dazzling form of late, serving a series of mesmerising singles that served as a tantalising taster to his latest album – the third he's crafted for Beatservice. Actively producing immaculately crafted sounds for over two decades, sonic alchemist Kohib continues his deft aptitude for sculpting genre-defying compositions, with 'Today's Tales Of Tomorrow' playing host to some of his most compelling material to date. From pitch black introspection to rousing dancefloor abandon, the album is every bit as far-reaching as we've come to expect from this singularly talented artist.

The collection bursts into life via the club-focused thrust of 'Golden Skies', featuring the seductive vocals of enigmatic songstress, Lydia Waits, whose stirring performance shines like a beacon as it soars over Kohib's slick four/four groove. Crisp drums drive the hypnotic rhythm over a subaquatic bass line, as icy pads and pitched synth percussion combine to stunning effect, effortlessly building to Waits' rousing chorus section. Subtly shifting the mood, we arrive in the heads-down throb of 'It's Never Late In Neon Signs', where glistening arpeggios and snarling bass caress Lydia Waits' honeyed vocal, the pristine instrumentation undulating over a mesmerising, radio-friendly arrangement.

'Fake Fur' arrives with deliciously brooding intent, with (Kohib's High Heeled Giants bandmate) Helle Larsen's bewitching vocal gliding over immersive instrumentation and otherworldly textures. Evocative harmonics combine with ethereal synth leads and dramatic aural waves, the hypnotic percussion gently driving the groove deep into the half-light of a crisp autumnal haze. Next, 'Hold That Thought' mischievously switches the rhythm, as thick sub bass and searing synth motifs power over broken drums while Helle Larsen's affecting vocal rises from delicate verse into dramatic chorus bursts.

'Sandcastles' once again sees Helle Larsen grace the stage, lacing waves of cinematic pads glide and live bass as scattered percussion forms an alluring rhythm. Sparse and precise, the evolving music ebbs and flows as the tides, gorgeously caressing Larsen's emotion-rich vocal as she weaves her seductive lyrical metaphors. The album's title track 'Today's Tales Of Tomorrow' sees sinister lead synths exploding over deviant bass as the pulsating rhythm drives the cut through distant vocals, the low-slung groove proving magnetic as the nocturnal melody works its magic.

The tempo rises rapidly, with the pounding bass arpeggio of 'This Kitty Got Claws' purposefully marching through cascading synth textures, euphoric chords, and self-assured lead vocals. Expertly displaying his expansive production finesse, the rhythm once again switches as we sashay into the utterly bewitching 'Rhythm Cast A Spell On Me', with Lydia Waits' indelible vocal providing a profoundly atmospheric moment. A sublimely constructed bed of neatly woven keys, xylophone strikes and haunting bass clarinet elegantly embrace the ethereal lead vocal.

The mystical melodies of 'Not Supposed To Be' echo over a misty woodland landscape, with Lydia Waits' unfeigned vocal flowing over jagged synth textures and gently broken rhythms, before Helle Larsen returns with the sensual swansong 'Let's Stay Right Here'. Sumptuous keys shimmer over a steady tempo, with warm bass and sugary melodies supporting the intoxicating lead vocal for a gorgeously heartfelt finale.

Vividly illustrating Kohib's unthinkably vast sonic repertoire, 'Today's Tales Of Tomorrow' looks set to further enhance the Norwegian producer's already glowing reputation, with each exquisitely-formed track combining to create a collection that's at once powerfully memorable and profoundly coherent.

repressed !

From samba and bossa nova through to baile funk, with carioca expressions of jazz, rock and hip hop in between, the sound of Rio de Janeiro, while continually evolving, has always held an unnameable quality which reflects the magic and mystique of the city itself. Multi-instrumentalist and arranger Antonio Neves is the city’s newest trailblazer: the enfant-terrible of Rio’s music scene, leading a vital and diverse constellation of both emerging and well-known artists advancing the city’s musical legacy.

“It all started one sleepless night, after watching a Quincy Jones documentary”. Inspired by the legendary music magnate, Neves began writing a list of artists residing in Rio de Janeiro “people that I admire, that I consider geniuses of their instruments, who share with me affinities, anxieties and projects.” The list included some of Brazil’s most revered living musicians who Neves has worked with in recent years: Hamilton de Holanda, Leo Gandelman and Dorival Caymmi. Neves also called on some of Brazil's most exciting emerging talents including Alice Cayymii and Ana Frango Eletrico.

A Pegada Agora É Essa (The Sway Now) is Neves’ second album: a vibrant portrait of the current Brazilian music scene. From the regional to universal, popular to erudite, samba to rap, Latin rhythms to jazz, MPB and pop to good old rock'n'roll, Neves walks with fluency and mastery amongst all the musical genres that Brazil has to offer.

“My offer to the musicians was complete freedom to express themselves through the songs I proposed – classics like “Summertime”, “Luz Negra” and “Noite de Temporal”, and compositions of my own – creating a space of authorship for the band and the guests. A space for inventions, purges, delusions, laughter. The idea was to bring the freedom of jazz crossed by Brazilian rhythms, such as the traditionals Partido Alto (A Pegada Agora É Essa) and Jongo (Jongo no Feudo and Luz Negra); rhythms of African-Brazilian religions like Candomblé (Noite de Temporal) and Umbanda (Forte Apache); and a tribute to newest Rio de Janeiro’s contribution to Brazilian music, the Funk Carioca (Simba)”.

Coming from a musical family, Antonio’s father, Eduardo Neves, was a renowned conductor and a professor at Juilliard School of Music and the California Jazz Conservatory. In the bohemian neighbourhood of Lapa, aged 14, Antonio began his career as a drummer, before experimenting with brass. He would soon become a skilled trombonist and arranger achieving the recognition of his teachers and peers. It wasn’t long before he would be playing with some of the biggest names in Brazilian music, such as Hamilton de Holanda, Leo Gandelman, Moreno Veloso, Kassin and Elza Soares.

His debut album as a trombonist was PA7 (2017, Rock It), released at the same time he was travelling the world playing with artists like Moreno Veloso, Kassin and Leo Gandelman, and recording the albums Jobim, Orquestra e Convidados (2017, Biscoito Fino), with Mário Adnet and Paulo Jobim; and Elza Soares Canta e Chora Lupi (2017, Coqueiro Verde Records). More recently, Neves was the arranger for the acclaimed Little Electric Chicken Heart album, by Ana Frango Elétrico, which has been nominated for a Latin Grammy and voted 2019’s ‘Brazilian Music Revelation’ by The Art Critics Association of São Paulo.

You Can Can is an echoed affirmation, an album which traces song forms around silence, field recordings, and degraded analog memories. This is folk music transmogrified and mutated, as if recorded and reconstructed in Pierre Schaffer’s GRM studio.

Not your typical Mariposa folk duo, the group is comprised of Toronto avant-music scene stalwarts, vocalist Felicity Williams (Bernice, Bahamas) and bricolage artist and synthesist Andrew Zukerman (Fleshtone Aura, Badge Epoch). The album feels like a somnambulant conversation, fragmented and half-remembered with Williams’ vocals traveling through a landscape of field recordings and Zukerman’s saturated concrète topographies. It is an electro-acoustic assemblage, both analog and digital, comprised of air, electricity, minerals, wood, and water. Although the album nods towards traditional forms of folk and musique concrète (if at this point it can be called a traditional form), it is outwardly and inwardly contemporary; non-linear, citational, opaque, and sui generis. In a way it feels like a sonic index of the narrative experiments found on the infamous Language school-related publisher The Figures, in the work of Lyn Hejinian, Clark Coolidge, and Lydia Davis. In the musical continuum, the album picks up where Linda Perhacs left off in the early 70’s—explored by Gastr Del Sol in the ‘90s—a convergence of rural acoustic idioms and urban avant-electronics. This is country music for the discerning cosmopolitan citizen of the 21st Century.

RIYL: Luc Ferrari, Brannten Schnüre, William Basinski, Oval, Eric Chenaux, Emmanuelle Parrenin About Everything In Time and Failure Figures, Felicity Williams says:

Everything In Time is indebted to the language of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector (as translated by Alison Entrekin). Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, we trace the roots of melancholy to render them available to consciousness; words from the ghostly realm of the transpersonal filter through dreams and shine a beam of light onto a lone trillium in a forest at night. Other influences include the experience of not knowing, of being subject to a gestation outside of one’s control. This is an ode to the power of naming to obliterate, to set free.

Failure Figures is a meditation on the radical contingency of reality and the vicissitudes of the will. With Slavoj Zizek as my guide (think: “Hegel for dummies” - I’m the dummy in this scenario), I wander through the valley of the shadow of death, and take heart. The last verse refers to an experience I had recording at a studio in Brussels. I was singing in French, with which I have some fluency, and the producer was complaining to the artist whose song it was that my delivery was not convincing. Thinking I was out of ear shot, he said in French, “c’est comme elle n'est pas là”; I was pronouncing the words correctly, but I failed to express anything. So what or whom is responsible for conveying meaning, if not the form of the word itself? And if the connection between meaning and form is broken, how do we fix it?

Gratitude to Thom Gill (guitar) and Daniel Fortin (bass) who joined us on the recording of Failure Figures. Thanks as well to my old roommate Christopher Willes, who unwittingly left behind his hand bells deep in the hall closet. We unearthed them by accident, and the bells became an important sound element. Thanks to other past roomies Robin Dann and Claire Harvie, whose childhood piano and guitar respectively still reside with us, and were used in the recording. Field recordings were made in Toronto, Canada and Celestún, Mexico in 2020.