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This self-titled LP marks the fifth release of Scottish artist Murray Collier’s Dip Friso project, his longest running alias and the solitary vanguard of his own Real Landscape imprint. Across the six tracks he delivers another collection of warped percussive loops, heavily manipulated guitar work and psychedelic sound experiments that drift between popular music forms ('I’ll Get to Hiding') and whittled down takes on electric blues and shoegaze ('Another Country’). The former features the instantly recognisable croon of Still House Plants vocalist Jess HK embellishing a backdrop of tape loop alchemy, an inspired pairing given the shared history of Glasgow dwelling. ‘Thin Ayrshire’ (written with Hannan Jones) treads a similar path with Collier’s own beyond-unrecognisable voice featuring, broken suddenly by a brief flash of 12th Isle’s Loris S. Sarid & Innis Chonnel’s ‘Spalted Water Portal’ thanks to a recycled tape spool. ‘A Sorry Business’ takes on avant-jazz inspired puddle skronk, a stunted casio bleep propelling forward guitar dirge and cymbal crashes, whilst Australian minimal wave heroes The Systematics are paid homage via a farewell cover of their track ‘Midnight on Balancing Day’ (here ‘Midnight’).

All in, the album sees the project incorporating more instrumentation and a full use of vocalists, leaning less heavily on gauzy sample collage styles and providing a more introspective look at the hazy, dubwise world Collier has been building for the past half a decade.

CULT FRENCH TOUCH DUO'S 7TH ALBUM

A UNIQUE ELECTRONIC SOUND INFLUENCED BY ROCK AND FUNK PRODUCED BY VINCENT LEIBOVITZ (LA FINE ÉQUIPE) WITH BENJAMIN DIAMOND (STARDUST), IZZY LINDQWISTER, JESSIE CHATON (GENERAL ELEKTRIKS), BNANN WATTS (INFADELS)

Gi Gi returns to Quiet Time with a new album, Dreamliner. His last full-length for Quiet Time, Lumino Pleco, was built on familiar samples, melted into a skunky sludge. It evoked a heat-warped meditation cassette unearthed from a Goodwill located in a black hole. The Texas producer’s latest, Dreamliner, is comparably immediate and propulsive. Here, Gi Gi explores spacey, kosmische-laced trip-hop. At first, these eight tracks come across placid and twinkly — calling to mind glitter stars twinkling atop a navy canvas, or tropical sun beams cutting through crystal water. But a jaggedness becomes apparent when lended a focused ear. Beneath slow motion arpeggiations and lullaby melodies, dubby percussion and sound effects gnash and quiver.

Sasha continues his current hot streak with a new single on Last Night On Earth alongside Jody Barr, with a killer Einmuisk Remix on the flip.

Pioneering electronic force Sasha has found plenty of success in recent creative partnerships. The Last Night On Earth founder has worked with the likes of Super Flu and Sentre and dropped a steady stream of fresh solo sounds such as 'Florian Drift' and 'How to Wear Raybans Well'. All this means he continues to lead the melodic house and techno scene from the front with expertly crafted sounds. Here, he works with Jody Barr who has long been close to this label having also established himself with music on Krankbrother, Configurations Of Self and Nofitstate. He heads up Portable Minds and is renowned for his rugged, hardware-centric sound.

'Phaxon' is a beautifully elegant affair with shimmering chords rising and falling over a serene electronic groove. It's packed with smart sound design and subtle touches that make it glow from start to finish as the emotions build and sweep you up into a delightful dance floor reverie.

Hamburg's Einmusik has a cultured techno sound that has lit up his own self-titled label as well as the likes of Diynamic and Sincopat. His version is more rugged with a darker feel thanks to the rasping bassline that rumbles below. There is still plenty of great chord work but the whole track is a little more direct for poignant club deployment.

Pique is the sensational debut solo album from Dora Morelenbaum, one of the key talents spearheading Brazil’s new musical wave. A member of the Latin Grammy award-winning band, Bala Desejo, Dora showcases a new side to her solo productions on this special LP. Whereas Dora’s first solo EP, Vento de Beirada, was a leap of faith, Pique sees her soaring as one of Brazil’s standout stars, emboldened, emphatic but ever elegant. Building bridges between past and present, it’s a funkier, more groove-based affair, weaved together with those signature, slower, celestial tracks. Touching on disco, MPB, soul, R&B and jazz, the album is enriched with an indie pop aesthetic courtesy of fellow Brazilian star and co-producer, Ana Frango Elétrico.

With an ethereal, enveloping air few can match, Dora’s gift shines through both the serene and the spirited songs contained within. The blissful, sun-soaked ‘Não Vou Te Esquecer’ opens, before the funk-fuelled, feel-good ‘Venha Comigo’ and ‘Sim, Não.’ give a glimpse of the creativity bursting from the production partnership between Dora and Ana Frango Elétrico. Elsewhere, the album reclines into hazy lean-back realms via ‘A Melhor Saída’ and ‘Petricor’, virtuoso jazz funk in the form of ‘VW Blue’ and radiant MPB through the album’s title track ‘Pique’.

The drumming is tight, fresh and swung, the horns and strings deftly arranged, as funk-driven basslines and strutting guitars mesh with playful production touches that give an added vibrancy to the record. It is an album that exhibits every side of Dora and one she has been involved in from the ground up, from the songwriting, singing, arrangement and production to booking the studio time and sourcing the artwork designer, Maria Cau Levy.

An exchange of musical ideas powers every great scene and Rio’s contemporary landscape is no different - a family of interconnected musicians and friends that collaborate on each other’s productions. Pique is graced by a wealth of these leading Brazilian lights including her Bala Desejo bandmates Lucas Nunes, Julia Mestre and Zé Ibarra, as well as Guilherme Lirio, Alberto Continentino and Tom Veloso to name just a handful. This exchange crosses generations merging tradition with modernity. In a full circle moment, Dora’s parents Paula and Jaques Morelenbaum, who featured in countless recordings from Tom Jobim's Nova Banda and Ryuichi Sakamoto to Gal Costa and Gilberto Gil, join on the album through backing vocals and arrangement.

Pique sees Dora embrace a freedom through fresh forms, showcasing the depth and diversity of her creative artistry. An infinitely listenable release that nods to Brazilian greats like Gal Costa, Banda Black Rio and Lincoln Olivetti, fused with the indie pop edge of Ana’s production. The result is truly unique and sure to be a future Brazilian classic.

For number 84 in the Brazil 45 Series, we head to the North of Brazil with this dancefloor monster, double-sider by Magalhães & Os Panteras.

'Xangô' by Magalhães is taken from his 'E Sua Guitarra' album, from 1986, and originally released on Gravasom Records. A stunning, driving Lambada track with haunting vocals and a compelling gusto energy. It has been gaining popularity over recent years with DJs and is a sure-fire get-out-of-jail dancefloor saver.

On the flip, we find another biggy from Os Panteras, 'Lambada Pauleira’. Also released on Gravasom Records, but a year later in 1987. It is best known for Joutro Mundo's fine re-edit of the track, but here we have it in its original form, in all its quirky brilliance. It is easy to see why, over the years, it has been a staple of some of Brazil's finest DJs’ sets, such as Augusto Olivani (aka Trepanado).

We are super happy to present these two red-hot tracks back-to-back. Now let the dancefloors return so we can heat things up!

- Next installment in BRAZIL 45 Series.

- Two dancefloor focussed cuts.

- Sought-after original of an edit made famous by Joutro Mundo.

Tristan Arp returns to Wisdom Teeth with his sophomore LP: ‘a pool, a portal’ - a vast, multi-dimensional record of pin-drop rhythms, hushed vocals and swirling ambience that maps out a vivid limbic space between the natural and the digital worlds. The LP began life while Tristan was still living in Mexico City, and was subsequently finished in New York. Carrying on from where his acclaimed debut ‘Sculpturegardening’ left off, the record marries hallucinatory modular synths with cello, found sound and spoken word, creating a rich sonic world in which machines mimic nature and acoustic instruments merge with their digital counterparts. Across the record’s narrative arc, listeners are invited to imagine a future world in which nature and machines collaborate to rewild and search for new modes of being. Far from apocalyptic, the artist’s vision is yearning and hopeful - a reflection on how we might evolve to overcome our very human limitations. “Hopefully we can all open a little portal into another world and integrate what we learn into our own”, Tristan offers. True to his word, Tristan shared much of the creative process with his machines, using modular generative processes to create randomised, improvisatory moments that he could collaborate on as artist and observer. Most of the tracks were captured in single takes as live performances and improvisations that were subsequently edited and cut down. Speaking of ‘Life After Humans’ - the record’s beguiling 10-minute centrepiece - Tristan recalls: “I neglected to record multi-track outs, but it was actually super empowering to be left with just a stereo track: I couldn’t mix individual elements even if I wanted to after the recording, but I’m happy I inadvertently limited myself in that way.” Alongside his own voice, the record features a stunning appearance from fast-rising Guatemalan cellist and vocalist, Mabe Fratti. The pair met in Mexico City in 2020, where she helped Tristan to learn cello - an encounter that ultimately went on to inform the recordings that made up ‘Sculpturegardening’. Her appearance on ‘a pool, a portal’ marks a full-circle moment in their creative relationship. The album’s artwork features photography by Zhang An - a photographer based in Nanjing, China. Despite their appearances, these are unmanipulated photos of real-world ice formations. As is the case throughout ‘a pool, a portal’, the lines between the natural and the artificial are playfully indistinct.

All 8 of the Mad Professor remixes included here are previously unreleased and include his dub mixes of 2 tracks not originally featured on Mezzanine but from the same period – Metal Banshee – a dub version of Superpredators which was a cover of Siouxie and the Banshee’s Metal Postcard – and Wire, a track they recorded for the soundtrack of the film Welcome to Sarajevo.

Jawad Nawfal and Mazen El Sayed, better known by their stage names of MUNMA and EL RASS, met for the first time in Beirut, during the summer of 2011. A common friend told Jawad wonders about an MC who rapped and slammed in the classical Arabic language, as opposed to the vernacular Lebanese dialect. The two musicians met in a small café in Beirut’s Hamra neighborhood, spoke of music, argued about politics, and decided to collaborate at once. They began working on tracks the following day. A month later, they had already produced a dozen sketches, instrumental beds and accapella vocal tracks. These demos eventually landed in the hands of Ziad Nawfal and Fadi Tabbal, who set out to bring to life the duo’s first recorded album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” (the title is from a Sufi master-work penned some 900 years ago) was eventually released as a limited edition of 500 CD’s, during a launch event at then-budding alternative venue Metro al Madina in Hamra, on the 22nd of February 2012. These CDs went out of print in record time, as can be expected, and the album’s mythical status became reinforced over time – El Rass & Munma collaborated sporadically during the next ten years, but never fully grasped the level of musical intensity and explosive tension attained on this first outing. It has been a longstanding dream of ours, here at Ruptured, to produce a vinyl version of this album, and we are thrilled to say this moment has finally come. Artist ALI RAFEI’s original artworks have been painstakingly reproduced, the music has been dutifully remastered for vinyl by CEDRIK FERMONT, and the records were pressed by our friends at Mother Tongue in Verona. We added bonus track "Fi Kala'at Tarablus" to this 10th anniversary reissue for good measure – recorded during the same sessions that yielded “Kachf el Mahjoub”, it appears on the digital version of the album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” is a landmark album in Lebanon’s alternative music scene, and the MENA region’s hiphop and indie scenes writ large. At the time of their collaboration, El Sayed was a prolific writer and musician, at ease with a variety of instruments, notorious for his masterful flow in the classical Arabic language, with lyrics tackling both social and political sensitive subjects; Nawfal has previously released an impressive number of albums and EPs, exploring downtempo electronica and ambient dubstep, for a number of Lebanese and international labels. The collision of the former’s brazen, slammed vocals and the latter’s harsh beats works wonders on “Kachf el Mahjoub”, Munma’s sound-world perfectly fitting El Rass’s agitated discourse, alternating between broken beats, elaborate percussion, and ambient layers of synths. At times reminiscent of mutant hiphop outfit Shabazz Palaces, at others of the collaboration between dubstep producer Kode9 and the late vocalist The SpaceApe, this album is an uncanny meeting of Arabic hip-hop and electronica, an exceptional event in the realm of contemporary Lebanese alternative music.

Shir Khan marks the 37th release on his infamous Black Jukebox imprint with an all-killer balearic house record courtesy of mysterious Cécille-affiliated Cabin Luv Affair hot on the heels of his debut album which has seen support from Fouk, Laurent Garnier, Jamie Jones, Mr. V and Archie Hamilton.

Here, the masked master lays out 4 convivial cuts that sit in a particular pocket between House and Disco; one that has historically been occupied by the likes of Pepe Bradock, Damiano Von Eckert and Andrés. A spot classically characterised by beautifully imperfect, sample-heavy productions that are shot through with palpable depth and soul.

The record sets sail with ’Te Siento’. Polyrhythmic percussion bubbles across the surface of a deep sonic pool that forms a bed for vivacious drums, romantic vocals and a spine-tingling strings riff. A hazy opening clears out before the backbone of recording shines through; an uplifting 90s piano motif that's later picked up by Xylophone tones while a tight, truncated bass line punches away at the track's core.

'Dance With Us' then rolls out a beautifully seductive mood. Softly shifting synth chords, a loose-limbed drum break and hedonic vocals whip up a hot and heavy vibe that shines with a distinctly Chicago-tinged elegance.

'Time Is Killing Us' follows up with an immaculately executed, 'last tune' House groove. A gentle but powerful euphoria is generated with swooning strings, more giddy piano riffs and another robust drum track that all gather momentum as progress rolls on. An ecstasy-crescendo forms before it crashes and fizzles before the lights go on.

'My Head Like Shibuya Crossing' then follows up with a tightly-knitted Deep House cut. Buttery melodies adorn an effortlessly kinetic bass groove before a delicate Japanese vocal bleeds into focus. As is the case with much of the record, the track graciously segues through its chapters with melody at the fore-front before bringing the record to a conclusion.

Das Geheimnis ist schon seit einer Weile gelüftet: Nach fast neun Jahren Pause sind die schwedischen Prog-Rock-Legenden Beardfish zurück. "Songs For Beating Hearts" ist die erste brandneue Musik von Beardfish seit neun Jahren, aber während sich die vielen magischen Momente entfalten, erscheint es, als wäre die Band nie weg gewesen. "Songs For Beating Hearts" ist ein leuchtendes Zeugnis für die Magie, die entsteht, wenn sich diese vier Musiker zusammentun - mit starken Anklängen an vergangenen Ruhm, aber auch mit einer ganz neuen, wehmütigen Stimmung. Von der verträumten Melancholie des Eröffnungsstücks "Ecotone" und der vertrackten Opulenz des fünfstimmigen "Out In The Open" über den prog-freundlichen Pastoralismus des bittersüßen 11-Minuten-Epos "Beating Hearts" bis hin zum ernüchternden Prog-Noir des abschließenden "Torrential Downpour" haben Beardfish nicht nur ihr bisher stärkstes Werk geschaffen, sondern auch ihr emotionalstes. "Songs For Beating Hearts" wird von Gedanken über Liebe, Verlust, Freundschaft und Endgültigkeit zusammengehalten und ist der Sound von vier Gleichgesinnten, die ihr Herz ausschütten. Ein triumphales Comeback, das niemand hat kommen sehen. "Songs For Beating Hearts" wird als limitiertes CD-Digipak (inkl. Bonustrack), Gatefold 140g LP und als digitales Album erhältlich sein.

diskJokke - Loving HowardCurses - Hell yeah. I vibe with this!
Jorkes - U la la. Thanks so much. superduper <3
Heidi Lawden - Nice release for all moods
Gameboyz - Slow and power. Thanks
Pete Herbert - Yes solid all round!
Chloe - Nice EP
Severino Panzetta (Horse Meat Disco) - Yeeeeees
Xinobi - Lisbon and Porto legends. Super cool tunes
DC Salas - Howard is big!
Mufti - Fantastic EP all around! Howard my favorite
Thomass Jackson - New Ears for me Thanks!

Long time friends and Lisbon-based Mirror People & OITO//OITO for the last 20 years have been lighting up dancefloors all over their native Portugal and beyond, with their passion for eclectic sounds as the main fuel for their sonic mission. ‘MP88’ marks their first EP together. ‘Howard’ opens with rugged 4/4 rhythms, acid squelches and meandering arps to set the tone, ‘New Ears’, takes things on saturated drums & fills, vintage stab sequences and enigmatic strings. Last but not least, is the dropped tempo acidic feel ‘Alive & Kicking’. Another flawless EP in OITO//OITO Discos, limited to 300 copies, this time in Yellow vinyl.

The second release on Objekt’s newly established Kapsela imprint arrives in the form of Chicken Garaage, a solo 2-track EP by Objekt that explores the fertile terrain around 00s breakbeat and garage. The A-side, Chicken Garaage, is a playful and poignant nod to the pioneering proto-dubstep explorations of the early 2000s, as the genre was first beginning to crystallise, by the likes of Horsepower Productions, DJ Abstract and Benny Ill. First sketched out on tour in Melbourne while eating takeaway chicken karaage, it’s the first outcome of an experiment with a new workflow to produce music with an accelerated approach and more immediacy and expressivity; encouragingly, it has the lowest final version number (55) of any Objekt track in recent memory. B-side “Worm Dance” leans into Hertz’s headsier inclinations – constructed mostly from field recordings made at a lake house outside of Berlin in 2022, it channels mid-00s T++ into a moody, elastic breakbeat roller.

The vinyl comes with a free lossless download.

Mastered by Kassian Troyer at Dubplates & Mastering

Artwork by Brodie Kaman

Discovered while working as a publishing assistant at Mute Records, Nerina Pallot signed to Polydor Records and released her first album in 2001. The release of her critically acclaimed second album, Fires, drew comparisons with Joni Mitchell, Fiona Apple and Tori Amos, and spawned hit singles Everybody's Gone To War and Sophia, plus Brit Award and Ivor Novello nominations.

Now two decades into her career, Pallot's rich and varied back catalogue suggests an artist determined to carve her own path. She has lent her distinctive vocals to songs like Circus from Amazon's Modern Love and her version of Love Will Tear Us Apart on BBC/RTE's Normal People.

The creation of her latest album, A Psalm for Emily Salvi, is a deeply personal endeavour. Born from an unexpected connection, the record is both a love letter to those who have supported her over the years and a tribute to the power of music in the face of adversity. One day, Pallot received a message from a woman named Emily (not her real name), who shared how Pallot's music had been a lifeline during her darkest moments. That message became the catalyst for the album, a reminder of the importance of perseverance, connection, and vulnerability. Recorded in London and featuring a stellar cast of British musicians from the jazz and soul scene, it is an album of light and dark and steeped in the classic singer-songwriter tradition.

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

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

"Louane is back with ""solo"", a new album that shows us a new side of the artist. She asserts herself, fully embracing her emotions, without fear of trying new things or putting herself in danger. After an 11 year career, we discover a body of work in which the artist reinvents herself and experiments more than ever. This new album celebrates the many facets of her personality, offering her, thanks to those who accompany her, a new freedom allowing her to express her individuality. A solo climb, without nets, with the strength of her conviction and talent.
Available on CD and LP. "

The eagerly anticipated release from the Glasgow-born award-winning producer and DJ comes with a
full-size booklet of lyrics & exclusive imagery selected by TAAHLIAH, as well as a fold out poster in full
colour print. If you’ve caught her ecstatic DJ sets, heard her AIM award-winning debut EP Angelica, or
spun her bootleg club edits, you know TAAHLIAH to be an artist not bound by genre borders. With her
debut album, Gramarye, she continues her eclectic approach, interweaving pop ballad songwriting and
club-ready anthems to delve into and represent her internal world.

"Five years since her debut album Delivery, Mikaela Davis has moved away from her hometown of Rochester, shared the stage with the likes of Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Christian McBride, Bon Iver, Lake Street Dive and Circles Around the Sun and entered a new decade. But it’s the ever-evolving relationships between her closest friends and bandmates that has propelled the Hudson Valley-based artist onto her latest album And Southern Star––a truly collaborative effort that ruminates on the choices we make, and the people we always come back to.

The band, made up of Davis (harp/vocals), Alex Coté (drums), Cian McCarthy (guitars/vocals), Shane McCarthy (bass/vocals) and Kurt Johnson (steel guitar), have been playing together for over a decade and it’s the first time they’ve appeared on a full length record together. Weaving 60s pop-soaked melodies, psychedelia and driving folk rock, And Southern Star picks apart the reflection we used to recognise, while trying to build a new one. It navigates the periphery of past selves, the coexistence of isolation and excitement in a new environment and the tension of growing away from what we thought we wanted, tackling it with a luscious, kaleidoscopic grace. “I finally feel like this album is more me than anything else that’s been released,” Davis says, adding that producing the album along with her four bandmates allowed them to carve out their own ideas, rather than someone else’s. It’s the band’s collective step into adulthood that has informed much of And Southern Star’s thematic landscape."

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.