Suche:his men

(Sigha remix) Psyk returns to Non Series white after his first release back in 2012 with a three forceful, dancefloor oriented cuts and a sick Sigha´s remix. The record is a limited edition including an insert of an original design of Juan Mendez (Silent Servant).

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Swedish duo Thunder Tillman come together again in healing harmony to produce a much needed LP for troubled times. Thunder and his life coach Pony bring their spirits in sync for 40 minutes of improvised soundtracks for mental and physical wellbeing.

Recorded on Stockholm’s Wind Island, the pair have carefully selected specimens from their collection of vintage musical paraphernalia to channel these specific vibrations for maximum healing power.

Side one is a gentle wake up call for the soul, with pipes and chimes that gently give way to mind-expanding synths and feedback echoes that sound like sun glistening off a mountain river. Those sounds lead into an electric piano and life affirming synth figure, before disintegrating into santoor strings and chants with a slight Indian flavor. It’s a cosmic combination that invites relaxation and meditation, and the kind of deep breathing exercises that could turn back the clock on a host of bodily ailments. An electric piano comes back to the foreground with a bass and synth combination that drives forward with healing hands, before parting the frequencies for ear-tickling pads and voices. Rounding out the side is a chiming synth and santoor figure that brings the wandering spirit home and to rest.

Side two starts up with Cosmic Osmosis - a motorik drum machine beat and bass line that briefly brings to mind some of their more krautrock inspired modes across their three previous Eps, but soon collapses back into visceral synth twinkles and relaxing washes of analogue tones. It’s a dynamic that drives the whole record, sounds that excite the soul perhaps even the body on an atomic level, before bringing that energy down to a calming, relaxing home. There’s a craftsmanship to their synthesized tones that goes beyond mere artistry, and the interplay between sounds and frequencies is especially inspired, to the point where the music practically sparkles out of the speakers. Side two closes out with harmonic chimes that could put you on a Himalayan mountain side, and succeeds in raising the spirit, mind and body to higher plains of cosmic consciousness.

The Aural Healing Program is accompanied by a 40 minutes Visual Healing Program that will be unveiled in conjunction with the vinyl release. The first visual healing session featuring side B opener Cosmic Osmosis, is already available for all to partake. So just relax, let go and let the frequencies guide you.

What do you get when you combine "Canada's Dopest Female MC" (Exclaim Magazine) with Canada's Best Kept Secret? You get FREE: the debut collaborative MC/Producer project between Juno-nominated Hip Hop Artist Eternia and the criminally slept on Juno-Award Winning Hip Hop Producer Rel McCoy.

The first full-length release for Eternia since the critically acclaimed "At Last" with producer MoSS (Fat Beats Records), Eternia returns with all the slice & dice super-lyricism audiences have grown to expect from her, as well as a depth and simplicity that can only be attributed to the maturation of her certified veteran MC status. Rel McCoy expertly provides some of the most sophisticated, moving, soulful & dynamic production we've heard Eternia rhyme on, in the same vein as a Pete Rock or a Hi-Tek but with a sonic stamp all his own.

FREE is the sonic equivalent of a baptism: a first step towards wholeness and liberation. The album holds the tension between rebirth, faith and peace of mind juxtaposed with the day-to-day realities of anxiety, fear, uncertainty and failed relationships.

Propulsive tabla percussion and meditative drones collide in deep instrumental conversation on Shruti Dances, the debut collaborative album between UK heavyweights Auntie Flo and Sarathy Korwar, forthcoming on the newly relaunched, Make Music imprint.

Across six exchanges of dynamic electronic production and richly layered Indian classical percussion, Shruti Dances discovers two architects of rhythm and movement on an explorative journey through South Asian tonality and diasporic identity.

One an elemental force on drums, the other on the decks, London-based, Indian-raised drummer/composer, Sarathy Korwar and Scottish-Goan producer/DJ, Auntie Flo first connected back in 2019, unaware both were navigating opposite ends of the beat equilibrium. Where Auntie Flo (aka Brian D’Souza) was new to Korwar’s reimagining of jazz, Indian classical music, electronics and spoken word, Korwar was already a big admirer of Auntie Flo’s intl-facing club output, having first discovered D’Souza’s Rainfall On Red Earth off his Soniferous Garden 12” and 2019 SAY award-winning (Scottish Album of The Year), Radio Highlife. Once properly acquainted, Korwar invited Auntie Flo to remix a track off his landmark 2019 album, More Arriving, described by The Guardian as “a stylistic leap from jazz to hip-hop to spoken word…a protest record encompassing the breadth of immigrant experiences”.

The seeds of an unlikely yet powerful musical bond had been sown and when mutual friend, co-founder of Mixcloud, and Make Music label organiser, Nikhil Shah, asked the duo to inaugurate the label’s new live/electronic direction (previously home to Leon Vynehall, U and George Fitzgerald), Korwar and D’Souza hit the studio. Expanding on early conversations around traditional Indian instrumentation, practicing meditation and improvisation, Shruti Dances (a riff on free dance movement, Ecstatic Dance) was born. Meaning 'that which is heard' in Sanskrit, shruti refers to a note in musical terms, but in this case also references the album’s most prominent influence and instrument, the shruti box.

“The shruti box formed the basis of the sound of the project. It’s a drone instrument, similar to a harmonium, and it makes an amazing sound. I’ve spent the last two years studying sound therapy, and immersing myself in ambient and drone through the Ambient Flo project, and am particularly interested in how they can induce meditative states of consciousness. I was really excited to hear what the Shruti box could do with this EP.” Auntie Flo

Across six tracks, (each named after 6 of the 7 main musical notes in the Indian solfege system), Shruti Dances draws on a celestial mix of traditional percussion and processed digital effects. On opening track Dha, Korwar’s sparse tabla rhythms hop across D’Souza’s scattered, arpeggiated synths, where as on Pa, a Balearic shuffle channels Moroccan Gnawa music and Senegalese sabar meets Mark Ernestus’s Ndagga Rhythm Force. Harmonic speed tabla and roaming drones provide a sense of the ethereal and fourth-worldly on Ma, a track that’s resplendent, curious atmosphere would fit snug into the deep listening-focused programming of Auntie Flo’s Ambient Flo online radio station, a curatorial platform and avenue exploring his interest/promotion of mental health, launched over the UK’s first lockdown. Ni sees Korwar pick up the sticks, thrashing toms in a spirited frenzy, whilst downtempo album closer Sa offers some room for reflection, its slow, swirling chords cloud our focus, leaving us with all but the distant sound of birdsong.

"Don’t be afraid, old son, it’s only me,
though not as I’ve appeared before,
on the battlements of your signature,
or margin of a book you can’t throw out"
~ Michael Donaghy

Whytwo is a young, enigmatic artist from Scotland, UK. A talented multi-instrumentalist and performer with an extraordinarily broad range.
First coming to Blu Mar Ten's attention after entering their 2017 remix competition, Whytwo created a wildly different take on their track 'Titans', bending it into a skittering, menacing groove while somehow maintaining a playful edge.

Fast-forward a little and we've now arrived at Whytwo's debut LP, 'Ghost', an exhilarating and elasticated take on Drum & Bass that exists in the hinterland between elation, melancholy and longing.

Mirroring Whytwo's music, the album's title, 'Ghost', is richly layered word, meaning, in different places and at different times; a memory of something or someone; to disappear without communication; to move quietly and quickly; to secretly do work for another; and, of course, a being caught between worlds.
From the old English, 'Gast', meaning 'breath' or 'spirit', the word eventually transformed into 'Ghost' coming to describe "a slight suggestion, mere shadow or semblance". All of these definitions relate, in some way, to the album now before us.

In conversations with Whytwo, he describes how his Jazz musician Grandfather was the person responsible for first giving him music-making software, and whose clarinet features on some of the album tracks. At the same time that 'Ghost' was being created, Whytwo was looking after a young child and some of the drums on 'Ghost' are recordings of the child hitting things. Whytwo describes the feeling of existing between these two extreme states, young & old, naive & experienced, primitive & advanced, and taking the role of a medium 'caught between worlds' whose task was to stitch together this generational fabric.

The result is nothing less than spectacular. Despite having its roots in Drum & Bass, the rules and conventions of the style are ruthlessly disobeyed resulting in glittering cascades of melody, harmony and rhythm that somehow burst with both sadness and joy, hope & loss, memory and anticipation. The music swoops and dips, briefly casting shadows before blasting them away with sunlight, evoking memories both personal and collective. This is 'Lost Soul Music' that manages to speak to all of us.

Despite being deceptively listenable, Whytwo insists this is not relaxing background music. Listeners should fully engage with the music beyond its attractive surface and absorb it at the same deep human level where it was created. 'Ghost's production levels are astoundingly high but focussing on those would be a mistake. They only serve to carry the spiritual content of the music across to the audience and unlock the valves of feeling. The beauty here is not the machine, but the ghost in the machine.

The album, which features some incredibly exciting and varied names including neo soul up-and-comer Greentea Peng, American jazz & soul vocalist Lady Blackbird (on ‘Sunlight’) and British blues vocalist Natalie Duncan, shows off both the rich history and calibre of Goldie and James Davidson’s individually but also how they can create something together that’s so cohesive and forward thinking. The sound the duo have been able to create is also partly due to their geographical locations over the past 18 months, bouncing ideas between Davidson’s studio in Bournemouth on the south coast and Goldie’s house in Phuket, Thailand; showing two songwriters and producers at the top of their game responding to a year and a half in very different atmospheres but similar trying circumstances.
Lead single from the album ‘Dassai Menace’ (released with double A-side ‘Fathoms’) was picked up by Virgil Abloh who used it to soundtrack his Louis Vuitton SS22 fashion film ‘Amen Break’ (watch here), with Goldie walking in the accompanying catwalk show. Goldie will also be in residence throughout the month of February 2022 on BBC Radio 1 alongside the likes of world renown DJ’s Sama' Abdulhadi, Folamour, Or:la, LCY and Scratcha DVA.

“Whoever gives nothing, has nothing; the greatest misfortune is not to be unloved, but not to love “ - Albert Camus

Cristian Marras - OCD - JoeFarr - Codex Empire

After a massive 30-tracks digital compilation celebrating a decade of existence, Gegen keeps moving forward with the release of their third vinyl record.

Starting it off is Berlin-based Cristian Marras: DJ, Producer and Rebels Conspiracy label founder who plays solid driving Industrial Techno and his track for Gegen is no exception. Opening with ethereal chants like a coven calling to arms, Asymmetric sounds like an existential journey from awakening to action, the switch in state of mind materialized by a menacing acid line immerging halfway through, leading us out of darkness.

Next is UK’s JoeFarr, a versatile and skilled craftsman who recently got music out on Soma followed soon by a release on Rebekah’s Elements. His track for Gegen is the bittersweet Timeless, built on the duality between soft emotional hopeful melodies and raw distorted cutting martial basslines and crushing sound design.

On the B side, Berlin’s OCD’s artist statement centered around the ideology of pain and the battle against anxiety caused by a senseless world with the goal to turn people’s fear and information overload into rage and find pleasure from overwhelming emotions in modern rhythms is in full effect on her track Egoismus. With its mournful pads like heartbroken fairies floating above an army on the move and thumping kicks characteristic of her hard sound, OCD brings you into an oneiric state where everything is out of control and too fast — a metaphor for our ages.

To round it all up is British-born, Vienna-based Codex Empire whose productions you might have heard on aufnahme + wiedergabe or Sacred Court. He brings to Gegen his signature dark and intense techno with Hagane, a track built on heavy rhythmic elements and metallic pounding sounds bouncing off each other for an unstoppable groove.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

By now counting more than four decades of constant activity, Pierre Bastien erected such a towering and influential body of work that any blurb attempt regarding his music could easily fall into redundancy. Not that his revolving soundworld, deeply personal and unique, has ever stalled into gimmick or self mimicry, being Bastien the tireless explorer whose vision can never be complete, only continuously redefined in a process of discovery equally playful and challenging. So, completely in touch with Discrepant's ethos. 

Returning to the label after 2017 The Mecanocentric Worlds of Pierre Bastien, the french musician, composer and instrument builder, brings an array of instruments from different cartographies and legacies with the appropriately titled Sonic Folkways. Resorting to different types of horns, prepared trumpet, an army of percussion, from gongs and tambourine to castanets and maracas, violin and too many others to mention here, Bastien weaves together a highly textured and hypnotic mosaic that projects an exotica beamed from scraps of the future. 'Aha!' in the same interstellar wavelength as Sun Ra's cosmic tones, 'Moor's Room’ almost orchestral tapestry of small percussion and insects or the non-western strings and tunings salvaged from ancient alien ceremonies on 'Pan's Nap'. 

In an era where so much ink has been shed about world building in experimental music, Bastien can actually claim that to himself. The otherworld is right here, indeed.

A classic and essential Hi-Life & Afro Funk album from one of the greatest Ghanaian singers and composers reissued for the first time!

The legendary Alhaji Kwabena Frimpong's fantastic rare album was recorded in 1984 in Germany and originally produced and distributed from Hamburg. K . Frimpong was born on July 22nd 1939 at Ofoase in the Ashanti - Akim district, died Oct 18th 2005 in Kumasi (Ghana).

He entered right into music after elementary school by joining "Star de Republic" and later "Oko's band" after which he left for K. Gyasy's band where he worked for more than 6 years. As a prolific songwriter and singer, here's the reissue of his amazing album, a modern fusion of Hi-life and Soul . The excellent background is given by the famous Cubanos Fiesta with members of Vis-A-Vis band such as the famous Sammy Cropper on guitar or Slim Manu on bass.

Originally produced by Atakora Mensah in Hamburg, this four songs recording is a blend of danceable and spiritual Soul and straight Hi-life. A must-have vinyl of percussive Afro Funk for all the music connoisseurs, Abrabo is a true masterpiece, so hard to find and reaching crazy skills for a decent copy affordable.

Remastered by Frank Merritt at The Carvery. Pressed on Replika format. Fully licensed by the Alhaji Kwame Frimpong Family.

For our first release in the sound-clash series, Xander goes head to head with Papa Nugs.

Based out of Brighton, Xander has made a name for himself in the UKG/breaks scene over the last 18 months with his exciting sound design and work for his own label, Over and Out.

The A1, "Dead My Sound", combines moody bass-lines with snappy drums to make a fierce 2-step dance floor killer. The A2, "Watch It", follows up with a menacing Reese bassline.

Papa Nugs is another prominent name in the UKG and breaks scene at the moment, having also had an exceptional 18 months. With releases on labels such as Constant Sound and Ba Dum Tish, we knew he'd be the perfect competitor for Xander

The B1, "Blip", provides skippy garage drums and with warping bass stabs taking inspiration from dubstep sounds. The B2, "Do Something", showcases a completely different side of UK garage, with slamming 4x4 drums and a chugging bassline.

Justin Thurgur has been at the heart of the UK's World Music scene for over twenty years; principally in his collaborations with the former Fela and Femi Kuti keyboardist, Dele Sosimi, and with the pianist and composer Kishon Khan, most recently in his groups Lokkhi Terra and Cubafrobeat. He has also worked with the likes of Afrobeat drum legend Tony Allen, and with the Cuban giants Giraldo Piloto, Julito Padron and Changuito. Thurgur is also a member of the seminal English folk group Bellowhead.

'Many Faces' brings together this musical journey, with Afro-infused grooves and nods towards Cuban Jazz and Dub, with Thurgur's early passion for the likes of Miles Davis, Coltrane, Lee Morgan, Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, et al....

It features both Khan and Sosimi, who have contributed as co-writers as well as bringing their own inimitable sounds on piano, rhodes and hammond organ. Alongside them are some of the leading musicians on the UK's African, Cuban and Jazz scenes, plus collaborations with rising star singers Jade Pybus and Sahra Gure.

Justin Thurgur - trombone (and some additional keys)

Graeme Flowers - trumpet and flugel horn

Simeon May - tenor, baritone and alto sax

James Allsopp - bass clarinet

Jade Pybus - vocals (on 'Woman')

Sahra Gure - vocals (on 'Be A Little Wiser')

Kishon Khan - piano, rhodes and hammond organ (on tracks 1,3,4 and 5)

Dele Sosimi - piano (on tracks 2 and 6) and vocala (on track 6)

Phil Dawson - guitar

Suman Joshi - double bass (except track 5)

Jimmy Martinez - double bass (on track 5)

Tansay Omar - drums (on tracks 1,3 and 4)

Kunle Olofinjana - drums (on tracks 2 and 6)

Yoann Julliard - drums (on track 5)

Afla Sackey - congas and djembe (on tracks 1,2 and 6), shekere and cowbell, and vocals (on track 6)

Oreste 'Sambroso' Noda - congas (on tracks 3 and 5)

Evie Hilyer-Ziegler - violin and viola

Paul Sartin - violin

Track 1 written by J Thurgur and S Gure

Tracks 2 and 6 written by J Thurgur and Dele Sosimi

Track 3 written by J Thurgur

Track 4 written by J Thurgur and J Pybus

Track 5 written by J Thurgur and K Khan

Recorded at Fish Factory by Simone Gallizio and Sean Douglas, at Boneman Studios by Justin Thurgur, at Better Pass Your Own Studios by Phil Dawson, at Thank You Please Studio by Kishon Khan and at 224 Studios by Matteo Musetti.


Mixed at Hi Street Studio by Mauro Caccialanza.

Mastered at Gearbox by Caspar Sutton-Jones.

Artwork by Matthieu Dufour

Photos of by Siobhan Bradshaw, Justin Thurgur, Stephanie Sian Smith,

Chantal Azari, Alex Bonney, Heather Hoyle, Nicole Thurgur, Joanna Mendel, Tansay Omar, Richard Gearey, Faye Hilyer-Ziegler and Svetlana Onye.

Adrian Quesada announces the release of ‘Boleros Psicodélicos’,
a sprawling and singular tribute to the golden era of balada music.
The brand-new album from the GRAMMY-nominated guitarist,
producer and Black Pumas co-founder serves as a celebration of
the super funky, slightly delirious and deeply soulful sounds that
transcended the cultural boundaries of Latin America throughout
the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Featuring vocals from Puerto Rican icon, GRAMMY-winner and
former Calle 13 member iLe, Colombian-American visionary
Gabriel Garzón-Montano, Mexican R&B star Girl Ultra, as well as
Angelica Garcia, Gaby Moreno, contributions from living legends
such as Marc Ribot and Beastie Boys musician Money Mark, and
many more, ‘Boleros Psicodélicos’ consists primarily of original
Adrian Quesada compositions, as well as covers of La Lupe’s
‘Puedes Decir De Mí’, Jeanette’s ‘El Muchacho De Los Ojos
Tristes’ and other balada classics.

All twelve tracks were produced, engineered, mixed and largely
performed by Adrian Quesada, honouring and extending the
influence of a personal obsession that he has cultivated over the
past 20 years.

Similar to his acclaimed 2018 album ‘Look At My Soul’, which
traced the deep roots and relationship between Latin and Texas
music, Adrian Quesada sees every song on ‘Boleros Psicodelicos’
as both a history lesson and a step towards a newly imagined,
more united future: “I always wanted to pay tribute to that sound
that I was already hearing in my head without realizing that people
had already done it. Balada changed the face of Latin music
forever. If something like that happened today, it would be normal
because everyone’s connected on Instagram. Think how powerful
this sound had to be for everyone to be connected through the
songs. As someone who grew up speaking two languages and
living on both sides of the border, I love how much music can
transcend barriers and boundaries. It really is a universal
language, especially back then.”

Am Freitag, den 13. Mai gilt es erneut die Tanzschuhe auszupacken: Florence + The Machine veröffentlichen ihr neues Album „Dance Fever“!

Mit 14 brandneuen Songs wirbelt Frontsängerin Florence Welch sich in die Ohren und Herzen von Fans und erkundet in dem Album die pandemiebedingte Sehnsucht nach dem kollektiven Miteinander in Clubs und Festivals, gesellschaftliche Stereotypen und dem Tanzen. Das historische Phänomen der „Choreomanie“, auch bekannt als „Tanzwut“, in welcher sich große Menschenmengen im Spätmittelalter bis zur Erschöpfung oder gar zum Tode dem Tanz hingaben war eine besondere Inspiration für die Frontfrau, die aufgrund der Pandemie mal einen heißersehnte und dann doch schreckliche Pause im ordentlich gefüllten Touring-Kalender erdulden musste.

Weiter inspiriert von Horrorfilmen wie „The Wicker Man“, „The Witch“ und „Midsommar“, sowie düsteren Gothic Fiction-Texten erschuf sie zusammen mit der Regisseurin Autumn de Wilde eine magische, nahezu ekstasische Welt.

Das Album wurde produziert von dem sechsfachen GRAMMY Gewinner Jack Antonoff (Bleachers), Dave Bayley (Glass Animals) der zuletzt mit „Heat Waves“ die deutschen Charts eroberte und Florence selbst. „Dance Fever“ erscheint als CD, Deluxe CD und 2LP.

Mikey Dread is known as one of the most multi-faceted artists, comfortably taking in both the positions of producer and artist. By the late Seventies he had started his own label, working with artists such as Edi Fitzroy, Sugar Minott and Earl Sixteen, as well as producing his own work. On his own label he released World War III in 1980. The album includes the tracks “The Jumping Master”, “Money Dread” and “Break Down The Walls”.

World War III is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on translucent yellow coloured vinyl.

When dubwise music really started to come into its own in the early to mid 70s, it made overnight stars of backroom boys who had hitherto worked behind a mixing desk to serve those who were beginning to hoist reggae to an international stardom that it had long deserved, but that it had only achieved on short and non-sustained bursts until Chris Blackwell decided to throw a lot of promotion and money at the work of Bob Marley and his fellow Wailers in 1972. Of those men, there was no bigger star than the late Osbourne Ruddock, the great King Tubby’s and the man who, from a tiny home-made studio in the Waterhouse district of Kingston, Jamaica, did more than most to reposition the boundaries that production and mixing of Jamaican recordings.

Across eight studio albums, DECAPITATED grew from the adolescent dream of teenagers from a small Central European town to one of the leaders of the metal genre. Each successive album further expands the band’s sound with genre-bending authenticity and integrity. As Metal Injection rightfully observed, “any self-respecting death metalhead knows the name well.”

DECAPITATED’s music is a weapon forged by four young men from a historic medieval-fortified town in Poland, which catapulted them to the top of a worldwide subculture. Like a rose in the devil’s garden, the DECAPITATED story builds triumph from tragedy. The gleeful grotesquery of extreme metal imagery and rifftastic bludgeoning beckons listeners to uncover broader truths.Upon the release of 2017’s Anticult, Metal Hammer declared DECAPITATED “a serious successor to the likes of Pantera and Lamb Of God – a band who can draw new legions into the metal world as its new champions.” Their diverse follow-up, 2022’s Cancer Culture, delivers on that promise.

Instantly recognizable devastation and deceptively sinister hooks abound. Freshly minted DECAPITATED anthems like “Last Supper,” “Hello Death,” “Just Cigarette,” “No Cure,” “Iconoclast,” and “Cancer Culture” shimmer with sonically sharp production and unrelenting bombast. There’s also a newly increased emphasis on melody, even venturing into darkly romantic territory. Wacław "Vogg" Kiełtyka (guitar), Rafał "Rasta" Piotrowski (vocals), Paweł Pasek (bass), and James Stewart (drums) are at the top of their game, delivering the goods at peak performance. Jinjer vocalist Tatiana Shmayluk and Machine Head frontman Robb Flynn make guest appearances.

Set on the descending plains of a mountain range amid a dense forest, Krosno boasts a 14th-century Gothic church, a Subcarpathian museum, and stunning artisan glassware. In this Polish town, teenage music student Wacław "Vogg" Kiełtyka discovered records from bands like Morbid Angel, Cannibal Corpse, Metallica, and Machine Head. The guitarist and his younger brother, drummer Witold “Vitek” Kiełtyka, cofounded DECAPITATED in 1996, inspired by a wide range of technical death, blackened thrash, and local heroes, like KAT and the world-renowned Vader. Death and black metal reigned supreme in the Polish scene of the 1990s, where Behemoth originated as well. In fact, a Vader song called “Decapitated Saints” inspired the band’s moniker.
The organic musical chemistry between the Kiełtykas was akin to the brotherly connectivity and vibe driving Pantera, Gojira, and the classic era of Sepultura. In 2006, Kerrang! praised the first three DECAPITATED albums - Winds of Creation (2000), Nihility (2002), and The Negation (2004) – as “superbly conceived and executed eruptions of technical brilliance and razor-sharp songwriting that turned these youthful Poles into one of the genre’s most widely respected bands.” That year’s Organic Hallucinosis further perfected Vogg’s penchant for blending extremity with catchy hooks.

The rule-breaking ferocity and invention of the first four albums reinvigorated death metal, as DECAPITATED inspired a new generation of bands who followed suit. Sadly, this era came to a shocking end in late 2007. While touring Russia, the band’s bus collided with a large truck near the border with Belarus. Both Vitak and then-singer Adrian “Covan” Kowanek sustained severe head injuries. Tragically, Vitak passed away in a Russian hospital a few days later. He was just 23.Vogg summoned the courage to continue, in honor of his brother and what they created, and returned with a new incarnation of DECAPITATED and the fiercely adventurous comeback album, Carnival is Forever (2011) featuring new vocalist Rafał "Rasta" Piotrowski. Blood Mantra (2014) introduced bassist, Paweł Pasek. Blabbermouth declared it “perhaps the most poised and gutsy” DECAPITATED album, adding “its courageous bends make it a turbulent but pleasurable ride.”

Cancer Culture sounds brilliant, modern, and tasty. “There is no place for any fake, plastic, bullshit drum machine or anything like that,” Vogg insists. “It’s all organic, pure, and clear, showing the true face of the band. Vogg and company entrusted the Cancer Culture mix to David Castillo at Sweden’s Fascination Street Studios / Studio Gröndahl (Sepultura, Carcass, Opeth, Katatonia), and legendary American producer Ted Jensen (Metallica, Slipknot, Pantera, Machine Head, Korn).
The devoted supporters who traveled to see DECAPITATED on international tours with the likes of Lamb Of God, Meshuggah, Soulfly, Fear Factory, and Suffocation over the years will recognize the ever-present pummeling backbone. Longtime fans and newcomers alike will connect to the variety of atmospheric depth throughout Cancer Culture’s ten boundlessly energetic and creative tracks.
“If you told me 25 years ago, in my neighborhood in the South of Poland, that I would be in Machine Head, sharing riffs with Robb Flynn,” Vogg marvels. “It’s simply incredible. It means that everything is possible in your life. That gives me the faith to believe that I can achieve even more in my career. The dreams we have when we are kids, things we can barely imagine, can happen.” Flynn contributes a hauntingly beautiful vocal to the Cancer Culture track “Iconoclast.” “Clean vocal singing is a really new thing in DECAPITATED,” Vogg notes. “It’s really unique and amazing.”

Driven by Vogg’s passion and integrity, the dual emphasis on creative invention and technical prowess maintains DECAPITATED’s stature as genre-leaders in 2022 and beyond. The band’s supporters continually demonstrate confidence and absolute certainty DECAPITATED will deliver.