Starting where it all began, Toca opens with the group’s number 1 hit “Toca’s Miracle”, now a bonafide Ibiza club classic. The record also features further top 10 hits “Everytime You Need Me” and “You Are Alive”, plus bonus remixes from Above & Beyond & Inpetto.
Speaking of the release, Fragma’s Ramon Zenker says: “It’s a bit surreal that this is 20 years ago - time flies. I’m still proud of this album, and happy to have it available on vinyl for the first time.”
Gelb's semi-surreal observations lace things together perfectly.” UNCUT. Filled with loud and lucky abandon; heady steady and direct singalongs for the heart in constant turmoil. Giant Sand’s esoteric journey to ‘Heartbreak Pass’ is an exotic journey through hails of Youngian guitars, off-the-cuff jazz piano rounds and beautiful alt-country yearning. While containing only new songs for this album, this feels like a greatest hits and as such is a perfect entry point for Giant Sand neophytes. Fire Records give ‘Heartbreak Pass’ a long overdue repress on white vinyl, with new liner notes and updated artwork. There’s a roll of the tongue, a couplet and some convolution underpinning Giant Sand’s 2015 opus ‘Heartbreak Pass’. So the story goes, so legend has it, a mere 30 years into their career, almost ten years ago, Giant Sand were regrouped and, for a fleeting second, someone made sense of it all (the words, the genre swapping sound, the roll call of friends and accomplices, the majesty of polar opposites attracting). On ‘Heartbreak Pass’ the result from this lengthy travelogue is a memoir filled with trinkets exchanged along the way. Sure, the Arizona desert is there, gritty and unforgiving but Howe's one-man-band is joined by a throng of well-wishers, this time around including Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth), Grant-Lee Phillips and Ilse DeLange (Common Linnets), The Voices Of Praise Choir, oft-time collaborator John Parish, Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle, Maggie Bjorklund on pedal steel, Italian singer/songwriter Vinicio Capossela and many more. It’s an album that travels far and shows its road weariness in places but it’s a celebration in all its ragged glory. In his original sleevenotes Howe pondered the fact that “The album is roughly broken into three volumes - loud and lucky abandon; heady steady and direct (Gelb's vision of Americana); and the heart in constant turmoil and something about a transponder.” He summarised: “I can't recommend it, nor do I regret it. It's been one life split into two.”
Tracks: A1 Heaventually A2 Texting Feist A3 Hurtin' Habit A4 Transponder A5 Song So Wrong A6 Every Now And Then A7 Man On A String B1 Home Sweat Home B2 Eye Opening B3 Pen To Paper B4 House In Order B5 Gypsy Candle B6 Done
Party-starter Chrissy joins the Shall Not Fade family with a 4-track serotonin hit which draws on influences from his San Franciscan heritage, as well as those closer to home in the UK.
'You Don't Have To Worry' encompasses this fusion, with anthemic piano chords and uplifting vocals that enliven a swung breaks instrumental. 'Assure Us There's A Heaven' and 'If I Could' also come with plenty of swing, borrowing tropes from UK Funky to show house at its most danceable, whilst 'All These Dreams' is a modern take on old school vocal house.
‘Running Out Of Time’ is the first physical single to be taken from Billy Sullivan’s forthcoming debut solo album - due early 2023.
“Lyrically it’s about the idea that once you hit your late twenties, you’re running out of time. That you immediately have to sort a job, a house, relationship, kids. For the only aim to be stability within a mundane scenario. But we’re still fed this idea of ‘normality’ in a time where it’s harder than ever to achieve what is expected. I suppose it’s a response to not living up to those expectations
French firecracker Adrien Calvet shacks up on those sun-kissed Bali shores providing a luscious EP for Pantai People’s fifth release. Soulful serenity underpinned by bumping house grooves with that distinctive French feel.
On the A, title track ‘Le Doigt De Toto’ kicks off the journey with its infectious bassline, sweeping pads and absorbing vocals. Beachside or boothside, this one hits just right. Berlin’s Cinthie then works her magic giving it a late night, heads down, deep house rework.
Flip it for another two gems, the jazz-infused, acid-tinged ‘Riesling’ featuring Coupe Melba that slips down like a smokey Negroni with an added kick and the slap bass channelling, cosmic percussive workout ‘Esperance’.
reissue with original artwork!
Todd Terje's 2012 EP It's the Arps rumbled the floors of warehouse parties and hedonistic sleepovers alike with lead single 'Inspector Norse' leading the vanguard of electro fun.
Please welcome: It's The Arps! Oslo's magic music maker Todd Terje has already gained a wunderkind like reputation for his gentle yet potent productions (we won't mention the 'E' word here) on labels like Full Pupp, Permanent Vacation and Running Back on top of being one of the best remixers money can buy (Shit Robot, Bryan Ferry, Dølle Jllle etc etc). What is there left for him to do Establish a label of his own! 'It's The Arps' is the starting signal for Olsen. And what a splendid one it is. Created from scratch and solely on the mythical synthesizer ARP 2600, it features four tracks (reads instant classics) that couldn't be a better follow-up to his 2011 super hit EP 'Ragysh'. Towering over the assortment is the laser crime scene called 'Inspector Norse'. Defying genres and blinkers, this is finest goose bumps dance music that makes you whistle along, laughing and crying all at the same time - but the rest isn't half bad either. The short, but sweet 'Myggsommer' gives away Terje's secret love for quirky exotika, whereas 'Swing Star Pt 1' and its brother have a (balearic) brilliance and witchery to them that is rarely found nowadays. Released on Olsen Records and housed in a beautiful sleeve courtesy of Bendik Kaltenborn. 100% Arp 2600 and 200% Todd Terje.
Reissue of the breakthrough sophomore album by the rising Belarussian post-punk/synthpop band // The second LP by Belarussian trio Molchat Doma, Etazhi, meaning "Floors", was first released in 2018 on Berlin-based Detriti Records. It became a viral hit, garnering over one million views on YouTube and becoming a legitimate phenomenon on Bandcamp. The band may fly under the radar in their native Belarus, but they've reached huge audiences across Europe and beyond. Six separate vinyl pressings of the album have sold out in quick succession, and Sacred Bones Records is now thrilled to bring the record back in print for good. Molchat Doma (translated as "Houses Are Silent"), founded in 2017 in Minsk, Belarus, stands at the intersection of post-punk, new-wave and synth-pop. Dark yet danceable, and with a heavy dose of goth ethos, their music is reminiscent of the masters that predate them, but make no mistake: Molchat Doma creates a sound and meaning that is immediately recognizable as all their own. The band is comprised of Egor Shkutko, who sings the Russian lyrics in his deep monotone, Roman Komogortsev on guitar, synths, and drum machine, and Pavel Kozlov on bass and synths. RiYL: Depeche Mode, New Order, Drab Majesty, Black Marble
restock coming...
Last Year, Dub Techno Veterans Paul St Hillaire And Rhauder Joined Forces For A Superb Collaborative Debut Album, Decoded. Sushitech Has Wisely Chosen To Breathe New Life Into Their Soulful, Dubbed-out Exploits By Handing Over The Parts To A String Of High Profile Remixers. The First Of Three Reconstructed Eps Begins With Cobblestone Jazz's Peak-time Take On "skank", Where St Hillaire's Patois Vocals Ride A Metronomic Techno Backing Track Rich In Restless Late Night Stabs, Delay-laden Woodblock Hits And Bleeping Electronics. Flip To The B-side For A Warmer And Hazier Take On "control" By Amorf. Sitting Somewhere Between Bass-heavy Tech-house And Head-in-the-clouds Deep House, It's Something Of A Hypnotic Delight.
2021 has been an incredible year so far for Jessie Ware. ‘What’s Your Pleasure?’ re-entered the Top 10 following a brilliant Graham Norton performance of ‘Remember Where You Are’ which has proved itself to be one of Jessie’s most connective singles to date. In addition, Jessie has two BRITs nominations, one for Female Solo artist and one for Album Of The Year – the category with a historic four women up for the award. On 28th April Jessie returns with a brand new single ‘Please’ taken from the upcoming deluxe release of ‘What’s Your Pleasure?’ officially titled as ‘What’s Your Pleasure? The Platinum Pleasure Edition’. Released on 11th June, the album features 6 brand new songs and more.
Her newest track, ‘Please’ sees Jessie continue the energy of ‘What’s Your Pleasure’ in the form of a throwback to 70s and 80s dance music, and pulls it together in a wonderfully anachronistic style, all packaged with Ware’s outstanding vocals. The track fits perfectly into ‘What’s Your Pleasure - The Platinum Pleasure Edition’, Ware’s deluxe offering of her sensational 2020 record. This edition still bears the cohesive, complementary songwriting, the killer grooves and flawless production of the original version. The Platinum Pleasure Edition only serves to heighten the rich and powerful soul of last year’s release with tracks like Please, 0208 featuring synthpop visionary Kindness, the Endless Remix of ‘Adore You’ and a whole host more.
Talking about the upcoming deluxe and new single Jessie said: ”I had such an amazing response to the ‘What’s Your Pleasure?’ record that I didn’t want the lights to go up and the party to be over just yet! ‘Please’ is full of optimism and ready to be played in a place where we can all be together and flirt, dance, touch and kiss. A wonderful excuse not to stop the party from ending.”
It’s safe to say that the last twelve months have been pretty stellar for Jessie Ware. June 2020 saw Jessie release ‘What’s Your Pleasure?’ and gain not only her fourth UK Top 10 album of her career, but also her highest charting record when it entered straight into the UK Official Album Charts at No.3. As if this wasn’t amazing enough, she went on to release her first cookbook and continued her immensely popular podcast Table Manners and recently hit a massive milestone of 21 million individual listens, oftentimes featuring household names such as Dua Lipa, Kylie Minogue, Yungblud, Robbie Williams, Alanis Morissette., Dawn French and Dolly Parton to name a few.
Last year saw the album continue to receive widespread critical acclaim, with ‘What’s Your Pleasure?’ featuring heavily amongst ‘album of the year’ lists including for music critic Anthony Fantano, also known as The Needle Drop, who gave What’s Your Pleasure?’ the coveted no. 1 spot on his ‘Best Albums of 2020’ list, declaring it to be “a religious experience”. The record garnered praise from The Guardian who say it’s“Ware’s finest record yet"; Rolling Stone laude it as a “fantastic dance-pop record”; Pitchfork say “Jessie reminds us why we listen to dance music in the first place.”, GQ proclaim it as “the perfect album” and NME stated it was“pure escapism.”
Several things happened before a warm day when I met the four members of Frankie Cosmos in a Brooklyn studio to begin making their album. Greta Kline spent a few years living with her family and writing a mere 100 songs, turning her empathy anywhere from the navel to the moon, rendering it all warm, close and reflexively humorous. In music, everyone loves a teen sensation, but Kline has never been more fascinating than now, a decade into being one of the most prolific songwriters of her generation. She's lodged in my mind amongst authors, other observational alchemists like Rachel Cusk or Sheila Heti, but she's funnier, which is a charm endemic to musicians. Meanwhile Frankie Cosmos, a rare, dwindling democratic entity called a band, had been on pandemic hiatus with no idea if they'd continue. In the openness of that uncertainty they met up, planning to hang out and play music together for the first time in nearly 500 days. There, whittling down the multitude of music to work with, they created Inner World Peace, a collection of Greta's songs changed and sculpted by their time together. While Kline's musical taste at the time was leaning toward aughts indie rock she'd loved as a teenager, keyboardist Lauren Martin and drummer Luke Pyenson cite "droning, meditation, repetition, clarity and intentionality," as well as "'70s folk and pop" as a reference for how they approached their parts. Bassist/guitarist Alex Bailey says that at the time he referred to it as their "ambient" or "psych" album. Somewhere between those textural elements and Kline's penchant for concise pop, Inner World Peace finds its balance. The first order of business upon setting up camp in Brooklyn's Figure 8 studios was to project giant colorful slides the band had made for each track. Co-producing with Nate Mendelsohn, my Shitty Hits Recording partner, we aimed for FC's aesthetic idiosyncrasies to shine. The mood board for "Magnetic Personality" has a neon green and black checkerboard, a screen capture of the game Street Fighter with "K.O." in fat red letters, and a cover of Mad Magazine that says "Spy Vs. Spy! The Top Secret Files." On tracks like "F.O.O.F." (Freak Out On Friday), "Fragments" and "Aftershook," the group are at their most psychedelic and playful, interjecting fuzz solos, bits of percussion, and other sonically adventurous ear candy. An internal logic strengthens everything, and in their proggiest moments, Frankie Cosmos are simply a one-take band who don't miss. When on Inner World Peace they sound wildly, freshly different, it may just be that they're coming deeper into their own. Inner World Peace excels in passing on the emotions it holds. When in the towering "Empty Head" Kline sings of wanting to let thoughts slide away, her voice is buoyed on a bed of synths and harmonium as tranquility abounds. When her thoughts become hurried and full of desire, so does the band, and she leaps from word to word as if unable to contain them all. As a group, they carry it all deftly, and with constant regard for Kline's point of view. Says Greta, "To me, the album is about perception. It's about the question of "who am I?" and whether or not the answer matters. It's about quantum time, the possibilities of invisible worlds. The album is about finding myself floating in a new context. A teenager again, living with my parents. An adult, choosing to live with my family in an act of love. Time propelled us forward, aged us, and also froze. If you don't leave the house, who are you to the world? Can you take the person you discover there out with you?" - Katie Von Schleicher
Several things happened before a warm day when I met the four members of Frankie Cosmos in a Brooklyn studio to begin making their album. Greta Kline spent a few years living with her family and writing a mere 100 songs, turning her empathy anywhere from the navel to the moon, rendering it all warm, close and reflexively humorous. In music, everyone loves a teen sensation, but Kline has never been more fascinating than now, a decade into being one of the most prolific songwriters of her generation. She's lodged in my mind amongst authors, other observational alchemists like Rachel Cusk or Sheila Heti, but she's funnier, which is a charm endemic to musicians. Meanwhile Frankie Cosmos, a rare, dwindling democratic entity called a band, had been on pandemic hiatus with no idea if they'd continue. In the openness of that uncertainty they met up, planning to hang out and play music together for the first time in nearly 500 days. There, whittling down the multitude of music to work with, they created Inner World Peace, a collection of Greta's songs changed and sculpted by their time together. While Kline's musical taste at the time was leaning toward aughts indie rock she'd loved as a teenager, keyboardist Lauren Martin and drummer Luke Pyenson cite "droning, meditation, repetition, clarity and intentionality," as well as "'70s folk and pop" as a reference for how they approached their parts. Bassist/guitarist Alex Bailey says that at the time he referred to it as their "ambient" or "psych" album. Somewhere between those textural elements and Kline's penchant for concise pop, Inner World Peace finds its balance. The first order of business upon setting up camp in Brooklyn's Figure 8 studios was to project giant colorful slides the band had made for each track. Co-producing with Nate Mendelsohn, my Shitty Hits Recording partner, we aimed for FC's aesthetic idiosyncrasies to shine. The mood board for "Magnetic Personality" has a neon green and black checkerboard, a screen capture of the game Street Fighter with "K.O." in fat red letters, and a cover of Mad Magazine that says "Spy Vs. Spy! The Top Secret Files." On tracks like "F.O.O.F." (Freak Out On Friday), "Fragments" and "Aftershook," the group are at their most psychedelic and playful, interjecting fuzz solos, bits of percussion, and other sonically adventurous ear candy. An internal logic strengthens everything, and in their proggiest moments, Frankie Cosmos are simply a one-take band who don't miss. When on Inner World Peace they sound wildly, freshly different, it may just be that they're coming deeper into their own. Inner World Peace excels in passing on the emotions it holds. When in the towering "Empty Head" Kline sings of wanting to let thoughts slide away, her voice is buoyed on a bed of synths and harmonium as tranquility abounds. When her thoughts become hurried and full of desire, so does the band, and she leaps from word to word as if unable to contain them all. As a group, they carry it all deftly, and with constant regard for Kline's point of view. Says Greta, "To me, the album is about perception. It's about the question of "who am I?" and whether or not the answer matters. It's about quantum time, the possibilities of invisible worlds. The album is about finding myself floating in a new context. A teenager again, living with my parents. An adult, choosing to live with my family in an act of love. Time propelled us forward, aged us, and also froze. If you don't leave the house, who are you to the world? Can you take the person you discover there out with you?" - Katie Von Schleicher
Vinyl LP[23,49 €]
As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"
Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."
"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.
"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."
"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.
"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."
In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."
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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."
His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.
"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.
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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.
"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."
Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."
One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.
"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."
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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."
Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.
Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."
The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.
"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.
"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."
"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.
"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."
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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"
Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.
"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."
The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.
"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"
The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.
"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."
In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."
Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.
"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.
"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.
"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."
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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.
Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.
On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."
For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."
Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?
"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."
Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.
Black Vinyl[21,81 €]
Der Grundstein für "Quiet The Room" wurde vor zwei Jahren gelegt, als Helen Ballentine einen Song gleichen Namens komponierte und aufnahm. Im Gegensatz zu den meisten anderen Songs von SKULLCRUSHER wurde dieser auf dem Klavier geschrieben, dem erklärten Instrument ihrer Kindheit. Während Ballentine im Sommer 2021 den Rest des Albums schrieb, flogen ihr Visionen aus ihrer Jugend zu, wie die Fledermäuse vom Dachboden, während sie in der schwülen, stickigen Hitze durch ihre Wohnung in Los Angeles lief. Das Bild eines Hauses entstand in Ballentines Kopf, als sie die innere Welt ihrer Songs mit den äußeren Räumen, die sie jetzt umgab, zusammenfügte. Sie dachte dabei viel an ihre Kindheit in Mount Vernon, NY, die sie als größte Inspiration für die Platte bezeichnet. "It's like layers of tracing paper, like someone is trying to make a drawing and you're seeing the entire process", sagt Ballentine über die Entstehung des Albums. Bei der Durchsicht älterer Heimvideos fielen ihr die scheinbar harmlosen Aufnahmen auf, die durch das Fenster gemacht wurden und sie am Klavier oder beim Spaziergang im Garten zeigten. Versteckte Bedeutungen, die über die Ränder der Bilder hinausgingen, eine sich abzeichnende Dunkelheit, die außerhalb des Blickfelds schwebte (ihre Eltern stritten sich, waren auf dem Weg zur Scheidung usw.). Das Haus schaffte es nicht länger, sie alle unter einem Dach zu beherbergen. Ballentine versucht nicht auf "Quiet The Room" die oft zitierte Unschuld der Kindheit einzufangen, sondern will diese in ihrer intensiven Komplexität darstellen. Das Ergebnis ist ein atemberaubendes wie leise bewegendes Werk geworden, das die Reisen widerspiegelt, die wir durch unsere körperlichen und geistigen Sphären unternehmen, um uns der Welt zu präsentieren.
With a career spanning more than eight decades, The Isley Brothers have one of the longest, most influential and most diverse careers in popular music. The group began in 1954 as an American family music group originally from Cincinnati, Ohio, which began as a vocal trio consisting of brothers O’Kelly Isley Jr., Rudolph Isley and Ronald Isley. The Isley Brothers have sold over 18 million records in the United States alone.
Go For Your Guns is the fifteenth album by The Isley Brothers. Originally released in mid-April 1977, the album peaked a month later at No. 1 on Billboard’s Top Soul chart, and at No. 6 on the Billboard 200. The album Includes “Footsteps In The Dark” as sampled by hip hop artist Ice Cube for his hit “It Was A Good Day”. The song peaked at No. 7 on the Billboard Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart and No. 25 on the 1993
Billboard Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart.
Go For Your Guns is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on red coloured vinyl, is housed in a gatefold sleeve and includes an insert.
Tropical Disco continue to rewrite the disco handbook as they clock up an impressive quarter century of vinyl releases with a sublime Volume 25 of their series.
Featuring four disco cuts laced with jazz, funk, touches of electro and lots of dancefloor swagger it perfectly continues to build and diversify the sound of the series. Getting in on the party are a trio of Italian disco lovers Musta, an artist whose releases regularly set the disco and house charts alight, alongside the highly rated Corrado Alunni and the mysterious Fun Kool both of whom also hail from Italy.
Opening proceedings, and in stellar form, is co-label boss Sartorial whose ‘Hootin N Tootin’ is a real jazz funk gem. Incessant piano riffs, a groove of a bassline which edges towards acidic in places, guitar licks aplenty and choppy drums all combine for a track which could be played anywhere from a jazz inspired pool party to the funkiest of clubs. ‘Hootin N Tootin’ is as musical as it is dance worthy, two very handy traits which will see it survive the ever onwards march of time.
Musta’s ‘El Matador’ meanwhile has a high energy, fun-filled approach to life. It’s a track which very much defies pigeon holing but which comes from the same effusive family of earworms as Samin’s ‘Heater’ and may well prove to be just as big a breakthrough hit if it lands in the right hands over the summer. It’s very much a track with a big mischievous smile on its sun worshiping face.
Corrado Alunni’s ‘Funk Decision (Dub Mix)’ falls very much into the early Soulfuric camp of Soulful house music, a sound which Tropical Disco has regularly flirted with recently with some fantastic results. Divine live sax, guitar loops and ass shakin’ bass all merge perfectly for a very classy six = minutes of shimmering dancefloor groove.
Fun Kool’s ‘Low Tow’ sees out the EP and takes us off on an 80’s inspired electro journey. Stabby synths, subtle cowbell and Vangelis-esque keys all combine for a track which brings Metro Area’s take on the genre immediately to mind. ‘Low Toe’ deserves all the plaudits which undoubtedly come its way, a future classic for sure.
That Tropical Disco keep conjuring up EP’s of this quality is a major cause for celebration in itself. Disco in 2022 is a progressively more and more interesting place to live given the multifarious avenues which it continues to open up and this EP is a perfect example of the depth, diversity and incredible quality of a genre overflowing with passion. We very much hope that the first 25 volumes are only the beginning.
Volta Recordings – a brand new label digging in those much-prized vaults that hold some of the creme de la creme of Italian house, officially licensed, remastered and reissued for a new generation to indulge in.
First up an absolute classic club stomper from the early '90s. Peaktime piano house, produced by the prolific Luigi Stanga under the one-hit and out, S.L.D. moniker. Pure ecstasy bubbling up through those joy-filled chords, fizzing synths, choice vocal samples and grooving basslines. Too right we’re getting hot.
Demon Records is proud to present a new ‘Best Of’ collection that gathers together twelve
highlights from across the Box Tops’s career.
• Formed in Memphis in 1967, the Box Tops were fronted by Alex Chilton (who later went on to lead
Big Star) and are best known for their blue-eyed soul and psychedelic pop-rock sound on hits
including ‘The Letter’, ‘Cry Like A Baby’, ‘Choo Choo Train’ and ‘Soul Deep’. Alongside those classic
singles, this new collection also includes a selection of lesser known fan favourites including ‘Neon
Rainbow’, ‘Sweet Cream Ladies, Forward March’, and their cover of Procol Harum’s ‘Whiter Shade
Of Pale’.
• Pressed on 140g vinyl and housed in a printed inner sleeve featuring new liner notes by Alan
Robinson. Also available as a comprehensive 2CD edition.
Clear Vinyl
The second release in the three-part Greatest Hit series starts off with the cleverly named bangy banger 'Emergency Loop'. Ghost in the Machine probably put this track on there so that no one would notice that the rhythms in the second track 'Drunken Master' are so weird that probably not even the best DJs in the world can play it. Not quite triplet, not quite dotted. Your problem, not ours. Obviously. Hidden away on the entire b-side is Ghost in the Machine's beautiful remix of Torgue's 'A Night at the Opera', available on vinyl for the first time ever. Another very obvious money-grab which you absolutely can't live without.
Over recent years, there have been countless reissue of reggae-disco rarities and slept-on classics. Soul Jazz has, surprisingly given that they first dipped into the style 20 years ago on the now legendary Reggae Disco Hustle compilation, been surprisingly silent, so it's nice to see them joining the party in fine style. Disco Reggae Rockers is a fitting sequel to its illustrious predecessor, featuring as it does a wealth of killer covers of - and more adventurous 're-versions' inspired by - vintage soul, disco and funk tunes. The plentiful highlights include Devon Russell's inspired take on Curtis Mayfield's 'Move On Up', Risco Connection's super-sweet version of Diana Ross classic 'It's My House', Valerie Harrison's interpretation of Me'lissa Morgan's 'Fools Paradise' and Hortense Ellis re-frame of Candi Staton hit 'Young Hearts Run Free'.
