Cerca:hold me down

Transparent Cloudy Clear "This Water" Vinyl. Idas viertes Album wurde finanziert von Capitol, in 14 Studios aufgenommen, vom New Yorker Label Tiger Style veröffentlicht und ging im Jahr-2000-Trubel unter. Die 14 Songs von "Will You Find Me" sind ein unermüdliches Kompendium und Ode an Schlaf, Sex, nächtliche Gespräche und andere bettlägerige Aktivitäten. Diese erweiterte Deluxe Edition zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum kommt in der Vinylausgabe mit 34 Outtakes, alternativen Abmischungen, 4-Spur-Demos und Covers aus dem umfangreichen Fundus der Band, die sich thematisch über vier LPs verteilt. Das begleitende 24-seitige Booklet dokumentiert Ida's Major Label Album, das es nie gab, mit atemberaubenden Fotos und einem ausführlichen Essay von Douglas Wolk.

'Sexy Tears' is a bold departure from Tristanne's (fka Tristan) critically acclaimed pop-jazz debut Wellif and lets you veer into uncharted territory, from the first tone, the bittersweet and haunting violin tones fade in on opener 'Steady Mouth'. In a split second, Tristanne lets you vanish in a dazzling matrix deep down a rabbit hole, a place where Piero Umiliani's 70s sleazy giallo era sensually resonates with Oneothrix Point Never goldwave frequencies. With a whisper of panting tension, her soothing voice and sonic subliminal temptation she unravels her own lush love secret domain, unlocking deeply hidden lost emotions and mutated feelings.

While mellifluous harp chords in 'If Only' set a scene for a tantalizing new world utopia the percussive clutter of 'Whordus' syncopes and mutate this future dream with a chiastic slide into a videodrome for a jilted generation.

With the help from her musician friends Elisabeth Klinck (violin), Indr? Jurgelevi?i?t? (kanklès), Kaat Vanstralen (flute) and Gert Malfliet (drums), Tristanne's 'Sexy Tears' will hit you straight in the heart, like a modern-day Cupido with a well aimed dazzling sonic arrow. Ready to stay there forever.

Under her stage name Tristanne (formerly known as Tristan), Isolde Van den Bulcke makes music she defines as sitting in a 'grey zone'. By valorizing self-reliance and learning as much as possible from the get-go, the musician and producer hasn't let hardship nor pursuing a niche genre hold her back. She studied jazz vocals for 8 years, released 2 ep's before her debut album 'Wellif' in 2022.

Recommended if you like Piero Umiliani on a Sunday morning, Broadcast on the beach, Oneohtrix Point Never in a romantic mood, Autechre on Ice, Ennio Morricone on LSD, and Pierro Piccioni popping perks.

The double vinyl LP includes the complete nineteen minute plus version of Tower of Meaning/Rabbit’s Ear/Home Away along with the previously unreleased songs That’s The Very Reason, and Too Early to Tell. Side four includes two instrumental tracks from the previously unreleased in the UK “Sketches For World Of Echo” Changing Forest and Sunlit Water

»Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds« explores sound’s relationship with architecture, inspired by the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery of NSW. Created from sound prompts responded to by artists like Jim O’Rourke and claire rousay, the work reflects on space, collaboration, and the fluid nature of sonic environments.

I like to think that sound haunts architecture.

It’s one of the truly magical interactions afforded by sound’s immateriality. It’s also something that has captivated us from the earliest times. It’s not difficult to imagine the exhilaration of our early ancestors calling to one another in the dark cathedral like caves which held wonder, and security, for them.

Today the ways in which sound occupies space, the so-called liquid architecture, holds just as much wonder, albeit one that is often dominated by functionality and form. Beyond those constraints however, how sound operates in the material world is something that exists at the fundament of our understanding of music, and moreover within the broad church we know as the canon of sound arts.

Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is a record born out of these relations. In a direct sense, the record is the product of an invitation by curator Jonathan Wilson to create a sound environment, reflecting on the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery Of NSW. The building’s name, which translates from the Gadigal language to ‘seeing water’, was opened in 2022 and this piece was offered as an atmospheric tint to visitors walking through the building throughout the year following its opening.

It’s also a record born out of a recognition for the porousness sound affords, especially as a device for collaborative endeavour. This composition is one born out of generosity and acoustic solidarity. Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is comprised not just of my sounds, but also that of an incredible array of artists who have also operated in the orbit of the Art Gallery Of NSW. The players include Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello and Vanessa Tomlinson.

The piece was constructed around two long form sound prompts that each musician responded and contributed to. These materials there when digested into the final piece you hear. The work could not exist without the substantial offerings these artists made, and I am immensely grateful to each of them.

I’ll finish with a little note that appears on the LP itself.

Place is an evolving, subjective experience of space. Spaces hold the opportunity for place, which we create moment to moment, shaped by our ways of sense-making.

Whilst the architectural and material features of space might remain somewhat constant, the people, objects, atmospheres, and encounters that fill them are forever collapsing into memory.

Lawrence English
Performed by Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello, Vanessa Tomlinson

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Now on album number seven , Metronomy has continued where many of their 2000s ‘cool’ band peers have dropped off along the way. Small World is a return to simple pleasures, nature, an embracing in part of more pared down, songwriterly sonics (some moments wouldn’t sound amiss on a Wilco release), all while asking broader existential questions: which feels at least somewhat rooted in the period of time during which it was made – 2020. For all that Mount seems to think he has made a comparatively sombre record, much of Small World still pulses with the zesty, tongue-in-cheek joie de vivre you’d expect of a Metronomy record.

So sure, things are different now Joe Mount is getting older and what’s on his mind is changing, but that doesn’t mark a change in quality for Metronomy. An immaculate set of tracks, Joe Mount’s ability as a songwriter and arranger shines through on Small World, evergreen. Metronomy might be growing up, but they’re not afraid to still have fun with it all. Through the tumultuous ebb and flow of the years, Metronomy continues to endure and make great pop music – and, really, that’s all that we could ask for.

Electronic pioneer Sasha links up with Artche for dramatic new single 'Hold On', Artche also provides his own version of the track.

Last Night on Earth founder Sasha sits in his own world after more than 30 years of innovation as a DJ and producer. His meticulously crafted sounds have constantly redefined the underground, and with this label, he has spearheaded the melodic movement with his own music and careful A&R of exceptional contemporary talents. This latest release finds him working again with Newcastle-based producer and vocalist Artche, who has already collaborated to great effect with the likes of Franky Wah and Cristoph on Eric Prydz's Pryda Presents and also released solo on SHÈN Recordings. His mix of deep house and techno has won fans like Pete Tong and Lane B, and he asserts his skills once more here. Says Artche of his return to LNOE.

The fantastic 'Hold On' is a dramatic ride lit up with sweeping, spine-tingling synths. It has a grand architecture and widescreen atmosphere with profound melodies and moody bass rolling down below. Angelic vocal sounds shimmer amongst the epic chords and the whole sophisticated track makes an inescapably emotional impact. The Artche Mix works the drums into airy, dusty broken beats that bring a different vibe while the original vocals and lush synths remain in place and tugging at the heartstrings.

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

Capturing phantom drones behind dusty beats and haunted twangs, Ellis Swan and James Schimpl return for their third album as Dead Bandit. Locked into a musical language unique to their collaboration, the duo once again put us out to pasture across broad sonic plains, drums flapping like loose fence panels in the prairie breeze and bass rumbling like distant thunder. True to their previous two records, Swan and Schimpl keep the strung out guitars at the front of what they do, whether playing a naked, desolate strum or running six strings through disruptive effects processing until they're barely recognisable.
But while there are details of disturbance when listening to Dead Bandit's self-titled record up close, the wider impression is a smoother, more direct affair that toys with post-rock complexity and matches it with the emotional weight of melodic simplicity, gentle grooves and conscious arrangements. 'Weeds' offsets its languid fuzz guitar with shimmering sustained notes before settling into a patient, heavy-hearted composition charged with heartbreak leads pealing out in the middle distance.
By comparison, 'Glass' has a smoky, half-hidden backroom quality. Its brushed whisper of a beat, lingering guitar drones and subtle sub bass come on like a dub wise flip of a sad-eyed country ballad. The mood maintains on 'Half Smoked Cigarette', which captures the grey sky sullenness of post-punk and reframes it in the seductive isolation of rural America. While there's a thickness to the sound on these most direct of tracks on the album, there's also fragility inherent to the sound world Dead Bandit have been shaping out over these past few years.
'Buttercup' swaps sadness for sinister undercurrents, once more drawing on fulsome low end to fill out the sparse threads of instrumentation up top. 'Pink' finds a steady momentum for its own brand of brooding mystery, the sharp end of the beat bringing focus to the many-layered approaches to the guitar which roundly define the Dead Bandit sound. There's an even clearer direction mapped out in the vintage drum machine pulse of 'Koyo', all the better to carry swirling effects treatments and moody melodic figures. Even in these ominous climes there's space for plaintive, endearing hooks which land as the most direct phrases in Dead Bandit's musical lexicon to date.
The fundamental sound across this album holds true, but Dead Bandit are never bound to a singular practice. 'Lucien's Bitters' strikes up a pronounced drum machine beat which comes on like 90s downtempo, and it feels like a natural vessel for the heavy, shoegaze tinted lament of the guitars. At every turn, Swan and Schimpl prove their affinity for all kinds of approaches, and yet the end product is a deeply cohesive, immediate listen that shows just how clear their creative vision really is.

"Hachiku ""The Joys of Being Pure at Heart"" LP - Electric Blue Bio-Vinyl (140g)

Melbourne’s dream-pop outfit Hachiku return with their second album The Joys of Being Pure at Heart—a heartfelt exploration of vulnerability, resilience, and connection. Featuring contributions from members of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and collaborations with harpist Mary Lattimore, the record fuses shimmering indie-pop with orchestral touches, making it Hachiku’s most expansive and collaborative work yet.

Anika Ostendorf - the creative force behind Hachiku - shaped her inclusive, community-minded ethos by her time working at the queer-run Melbourne label Milk! Records, which also released Hachiku’s self-titled EP (2017) and debut album I’ll Probably Be Asleep (2020). The Joys of Being Pure at Heart (2025) sees Ostendorf lean into a new mode of emotional openness and radical honesty: not only with others, but with herself. As the saying goes, to be loved is to be known – with these 10 songs, Ostendorf lets her guard down and reminds us to hold onto the little joys that make life worth living in spite of it all.

Pressed on Electric Blue, GreenPower Bio-Attributed Compound "

Scour ist eine Metal-Supergruppe mit Philip Anselmo (Pantera, Down), Derek Engemann (ex-Cattle Decapitation), John Jarvis (Agoraphobic Nosebleed), Mark Kloeppel (Misery Index) und Adam Jarvis (Pig Destroyer, Misery Index). Auf ihrem Debüt in voller Länge verbindet Scour Black Metal mit Grindcore, Punk und Thrash und bringt Extreme Metal in modernes Terrain. Scour ist auf einigen der bedeutendsten Festivals der Welt aufgetreten, darunter Roskilde, Hellfest, Tecate Metal Fest und Maryland Deathfest.

Music is like literature: getting through a second novel or second album is often a perilous exercise. Spatsz and Mona Soyoc, propelled into the limelight by their explosive Try Out, headed off to New York to record a follow-up to this fabulous debut. By Pass (1983) follows in the musical and sonic footsteps of its predecessor. The same sticky synth layers, the same flayed vocals capable of voluptuous flights, KaS Product still navigates the murky waters of a nervous, unhealthy cold wave, somewhere between the gall of Suicide and the gothic melodies of Siouxsie. And the melodies are always there, as on the stunning "Tina Town" and "T.M.T", two of the most successful tracks on an album that holds up remarkably well, and also deserves a closer look at its detours, such as "Taking Shape" or "Tape" at the end of the disc.

High Roller Records, aqua blue/ black galaxy effect vinyl, ltd 100, HRR mailorder exclusive, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, download code

High Roller Records, aqua blue/ black galaxy effect vinyl, ltd 100, HRR mailorder exclusive, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, download code

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

This new TopicDrift45 release comes straight outta Aachen. Originally released in 1982 on Rainer Wiedensohlers "Nabel Musik" Imprint with a whole LP called "Floating" and for the first time on a DJ friendly 45 cut. Side A "Running" was and still is a well known mover in the UK Northen & Asian Scene. While holding down the laidback mellow jazzy vibes with "Till We Get There" on the B Side. A true example for all those DJs out there collecting & spinning organic music in all its forms. Get it! :-)

As soon as Martin Circus was born in 1969, the band laid foundations for the French "Pop Musique" genre, deliberately turning its back on both French yéyés and rock'n'roll to better embrace psychedelia and the French language. In 1971, they were a pioneering, innovative group moving as fast as a speeding train, building upon everything they found on the way. However, faced with band members changing often, management issues and music evolution, Martin Circus ended up trying to fit in every style: soul, R&B, glam rock, disco, new wave, 80s mainstream music. To follow their journey is to listen to the world shifting along music charts. Behind the scenes, since the very first days of the band, one man had been pulling all the strings. Manager and artistic director Gérard Hugé used to work for both the band and the label - this has never been good news. What he cared about the most was getting records out, no matter who played on them. In the mid-70s, he registered the Martin Circus name, granting himself full power over the band. Deciding that it no longer had either a lyricist or a composer, he made the remaining musicians embark on a series of American 60s hits adaptations. As a result, they made tons of money : "Marylène" was a huge hit and gave them a new impulse. The Martins adopted a new look by wearing shiny Courrèges-style suits and platform boots, and on stage they performed dance moves choreographed by the eccentric Amadeo. They completely fit into the disco craze which was about to take over. Still, their music blended doo-wop and rockabilly with glam rock and funk music. They eventually hit disco with a soundtrack in the mannerof French disco groups such as Space and Voyage. Effortlessly, they released the epic 14- minute "Disco Circus", a track which was to become a real underground gem. DJ and remixer François Kevorkian then released it on the American Prelude label in a self-edited version, shortened to 7 minutes while retaining all the dazzling passages of the original track. It came to be a hit in the clubs of New York and Chicago, making a lasting impression on everyone who heard it. It got sampled on at least 40 tracks over the following decades and featured in dozens of bootlegs and prestigious compilations - by Laurent Garnier, Carl Craig, Juan Atkins, Joey Negro, The Beatnuts, The Rapture, and by Danny Krivit in the DJ culture film Maestro. As the 80s arrived, Martin Circus once again changed the way they looked and their style. Inspired by Devo and their cold dance music, by Buggles' synthpop and Plastic Bertand's postpunk. Throughout their career full of ups and downs, Martin Circus nonetheless managed to keep up with one stable element: contrary to what they seemed, the musicians never took the easy way out. Their playing and arrangements were consistently flawless and polished, they relentlessly dedicated themselves to playing quality music and this can only compel admiration. As Coco Chanel once said, "Fashion goes out of fashion, style never does."

Last May, Hard Times captivated us with The Lost D.A.T.S (Part One)—a remarkable collection of unreleased and freshly unearthed gems from the vaults of NYC legend DJ Romain. But the story didn’t end there. To our surprise and delight, Romain had delivered an even larger treasure trove of beats—too many to reveal all at once.

Now, Hard Times is proud to present the next chapter: DJ Romain – The Lost D.A.T.S (Part Two).

"1996-97? Yeah, that’s when New York was still NEW YORK!

That was around the time we really started to get hold of exotic herbs. Copper Haze, hydroponic! The vibes in the studio were always lovely. I had hair at the time! Dread-Locs down to my shoulders... I was still rockin’ the Wallabees, or British Walkers as we called them - representing for Brooklyn and my West Indian roots!

There was no social media, no supervision, nobody all up in our business… It was classic "mind your own business" NYC Vibes! I was DJing at a lot of the hot clubs and THE hottest afterhours in the city. There were nights when I saw Micheal Douglas roll into the afters with Grace Jones - they were there to party and unwind and I was there dropping the dope tracks for the people.

When it was studio time, with my homie Matt Echols...I was probably setting things off with some quality herbage, a big ass bag of Funyuns and my trusty SP-1200, lol. I had picked up some tips and tricks from Todd Terry and by '96-'97 I was a Shaolin with it myself! This was around the time tracks like "Flowers" and "Only Love Can Break Your Heart (Dub)" were tearing up the clubs. I wanted to be able to get my ideas out with no problem, and by then I had a lot of confidence...

Being able to Dj in some of the hottest NY hot spots at the time, I was able to really see what worked and what didn't on the dancefloor. The best House Dancers from around the world and around the Tri-State area would be at my jams. I'm talking Ejoe, Voodoo Ray, maybe kids from the Mop-Top Crew... I was definitely taking note of the kind of rhythms and sounds that would make them go crazy on the dancefloor!

And that's how we went about it - I laid down the rhythms that made it happen in my sets and translated the vibes I was picking up from NYC itself. Matt threw down musically and we were just being as creative and inventive as possible! But we always kept in mind that our job was to make the people on the dancefloor jump!

A lot of the jams from those days got signed to various record labels, we dropped a lot of them on our own label...and some of them ended up in the archives - until now!"

Imaginary friends Akka & BeepBeep share the third release on their label: Floral Ancestors by Raduns. The 12” offers blooming ambient rooted in dub, lush drone and hand-picked cosmic that’s all grown deep in Detroit.

Spacious sonic arrangements vividly swell yet keep grounded within a sculptural rhythmic core. Raduns sows synth basslines and wispy pads next to harmonious guitars and muted field recordings. Grooving propulsion drives throughout. Rhythms appear, in negative space, like outlines between leaves. Recorded with machines direct to SD card, the compositions represent ephemeral blessings of experience. As if strolling into a verdant conservatory, the layered and diverse sensations blend into one cohesive revelatory experience.

On their first record, Raduns draws an ancestral line in Detroit as inspiration. A time when you could ride a streetcar from Dexter-Linwood to Belle Isle. A time before freeway expansion demolished vibrant Black neighborhoods. A time before the rebellion, motown and white flight. A time when Raduns’ great-grandparents were florists in the city, serving the community in times of celebration and times of grief. This melancholic circle shapes the project in which Raduns summons these Floral Ancestors, stretching upward from the darkness of the earth into the light of the world back down once more.

AKKA’s Side: “Grass Boulevard” exhales a luscious soundscape that develops through wave-crashing synths and circulated guitars to a transplanted acid lead. “Spread” lays out a decoration of blended sample and hold synth with kosmische styled guitar licks. Tracked as a single take in a Detroit community studio, the tune intuitively reseeds the symbiotic sprout between krautrock and Detroit techno.

BEEP’s Side: “Metrograde Bouquet” submerges you into the bulb of a handcrafted vase. Dub techno roots grow out into murky water with energy that is subtle yet profound. “Oldest of Arrangements” textures breaths of misty air cascading ventilating in on itself. The track’s time seems to stretch and disappear within a dark and deep undercurrent. A harmonic and reverberant resonance closes the record in a flowering of beauty and peace.

“You’re a flower child. Put this music out.” - Someone Important in Detroit

The Dancefloor Records reissues on Emotional Rescue comes in the form a true House classic. Produced and released by the Chicago legend Andrew Komis, It’s You is an original Deep House bomb and an education to those increasingly misusing the term today.

Essentially a cover / updated version of the all-time early House classic in ESP’s Its You, this 1989 update shows how much the scene was progressing in just 3 years with a tougher, heavier and deeper 12” that was all about rocking club sound systems.

Coming out on Komis’ own (Dancefloor subsidiary) Big Shot Records, this might not of been as big as Dionne’s Come Get My Lovin’, but has long been an ‘in the bag’ record for the likes of Derrick Carter and Solar. Just one listen spread across the time-defining “Mixes” and it’s clear why.

The stepping bass of the New York – London Mix was so indicative of the time. As the latter’s ascent as a clubbing capital took hold, ears were pinned to what was emanating from across the seas, especially the clubs of NYC and ‘Windy City’. Trademark Komis bass and hats ride are all here to allow the breathy vocals space to do their magic.

However it is the Free House Mix that really shows where things were at. Skipping hats, electro-meets-Belgian bass and a dark synth line pull the track down before acid touches take the song to a much deeper place and has long been the favourite version for the discerning DJ.

Ending with what was indicative of the time, the title says it all with the NU Style Mix. A drum heavy work out, taking in elements of successful records of the time, we get Break 4 Love percussion arranged around a NYC influenced Konder’s style quick cut-up editing for a more 'freestyle' mix to round out what is simply, an underground bomb and therefore, worthy of what this label has always been about, bringing great records to new ears.

*press Release From David Katz*

The Hardest Working Reggae Band In Southern England, Dubheart Is On A Mission To Spread Messages Of Peace, Love, Unity And Resistance Through A Heady Stew Of Contemporary Roots Reggae, Delivered On Live Instruments With A Hefty Dose Of Dub In The Mix. Cool Under Pressure, Their Latest Offering, Is The Band's Most Compelling Set To Date, A 'showcase'-style Album Where Every Vocal Track Is Followed By Its Dub Counterpart, And The Vital Contribution Of The Brassica Horns—from Rising London Ska Band Chainska Brassica—is Another Intriguing Element That Makes This Album Tougher Than The Rest.

Drawing On The Foundations Laid By Jamaican Stalwarts Such As Burning Spear, Dennis Brown And Culture, Dub Pioneers Like Scientist And Jah Shaka, Plus Newer Vanguards Such As Tarrus Riley, Grounation And Conscious Sounds, Dubheart Has Crafted A Distinctly Appealing Style That Is Very Much Their Own, Based On The Organic Presentation Of Their Musical Vision. Indeed, This Fully Self-contained Five-piece Is Firmly Engrained In The Neo-roots Movement Of The Present, With A Sound That Faces Ever Forwards.

The South Coast-based Band Was First Formed Back In 1999, And Slowly Built A Following Through Their Intense Live Performances, Which Always Harnessed A Live Dub Element. Their First Ep, the Solid Foundation Rhythm,' Issued On Their Own Karnatone Label In 2011 And Featuring Dub Mixes By Russ D Of The Disciples, Became A Regular Part Of Jah Shaka's Live Playlists. It Was Followed By The 7' 45, we Chant,' Featuring The Band's Charismatic Bristol-based Lead Singer, Tenja (who Originally Hails From France), The Track Becoming An Underground Anthem In Japan (via Rob Smith, Aka Rsd). Dubheart's First Album, Mental Slavery, Was Released In 2013, A Momentous Year That Also Saw The Band Win The European Reggae Contest Staged By Rototom Sunsplash, Leading To A European Tour With Festival Appearances At Summerjam (germany), Reggae Sun Ska (france), Overjam (slovenia), Sudoweste (portugal), United Islands (czech Republic) And The Sardinia Reggae Festival, As Well As Rototom In Spain. Then, In 2015, Karnatone Issued The Dub Companion To Mental Slavery, Mixed Down In A Heavy Dubwise Fashion By Drummer Gavin Sant, Otherwise Known As Fullness, The Band Was Then Invited To Participate In The Bbc Television Show, The Uk's Best Part-time Band, Leading To Their Ep Of Cover Tunes, 2016's full Time Pressure,' Again With Dub Versions From Fullness. part Of The Band's Appeal Lies In Its Tightness As A Recording And Performing Unit, When You See Them Live, You Understand That This Band Of Brothers Is On A Higher Mission, United In Their Wish To Use Music As A Means Of Upliftment. And That Sentiment Is Entirely Evident On Cool Under Pressure. The Melodic Bass Grooves Of Mark Shepherd Act As The Perfect Buffer To The Furious Rolls And Expressive Drum Patterns Of Fullness, David 'daddy U' Mountjoy Adds Scintillating Melodies On Keyboards, Including Some Delightful Wurlitzer Lines, And Richard Ramsey's Guitar Licks Tend Towards The Understated, Aside From The Occasional Solo Pyrotechnics, As Heard Here On rocky Road.' And On Songs Like can't Wait,' watcha Gonna Do' And The Title Track, The Brassica Horns Add Further Melodic Depth Through Fanfares Of Treble Brass Texture. with The Rhythms Laid Entirely Through Live Recording Sessions Cut At Fullness' Home Studio In Bournemouth (with Horn And Wurlitzer Overdubs Done Elsewhere), Cool Under Pressure Reveals Dubheart As A Band On The Rise, Heading For Unstoppable Heights.

The Dub Deconstructions On The Disc Allow The Listener To Hear The Exceptional Quality Of Their Playing, Emphasizing Each Member's Individual Talent, While The Lyrics Tackle Subjects We Can All Relate To, With watcha Gonna Do' Addressing Social Inequalities, can't Wait' Alluding To The Refugee Crisis, rocky Road' Imploring Everyone To Hold Strong In Trying Times, And rise Up' Calling For Direct Action Against The Unjust System That Rules Our Lands. Overall, The Outstanding Title Track cool Under Pressure' Really Sums Up The Band's Ethos: The System May Burden Us With The Stresses Of Censure And Control, But Our Obligation Is To Stay True To Ourselves And Resist. And The Music Can Help Us To Achieve This.

A new album by four-piece band District Five from Zurich is always a good moment to reassess one’s own expectations. After Burnt Sugar 2022 and Pause 2023, Come Closer is the third album by Vojko Huter, Paul Amereller, Tapiwa Svosve and Xaver Rüegg, which mixes a wide range of references without ever being bothered by the commitment to one genre only. Imagine the band as something like a catalyst, through which its members constantly process what they are influenced by. And these influences are in constant motion: derived from the old-fashioned and amicable interest of collaboratively making music, the band comes together in their weekly ritual, dedicated to this synthesis of interests. At one point, this unrestricted game was called jazz, but even a generous concept can become too narrow. Which is why the genre remains an important influence, but not the only point of reference. Rather, its qualities are the root system from which everything else grows.

Case in point for this expansion of possibilities is the first track on Come Closer, which, and here comes a genre attribution after all, moves the album into the vicinity of dream pop. “Another One” centers the voice, evoking old and new memories alike. Accompanied by an adequately slowed-down guitar riff and rhythm, the musical framework remains stable before collapsing in a nervous, shimmering manner. Ready to be assembled anew. On the following seven tracks, District Five takes on this task, referencing post-punk motifs as well as progressive, meandering song structures. Condensed and expansive at the same time, driven by a desire for collective play.

This trusting cooperation between District Five’s members is ultimately the constant of Come Closer. Although the four musicians seem determined to find a different way to organize themselves as a band on almost every song, this conversational approach holds the album together on an intuitive level. And in the end, the only question that remains is: is it the members that influence the band, or is it the other way around?

Born and raised in Argentina, Morita Vargas is an experimental artist and producer based in Buenos Aires. She manipulates her voice through reverbs, delays and whispers, singing in a self-invented 'language'. The sound of Morita’s voice is a portal into her thriving, dreamlike world brimming, shimmering and beating with unrefined natural sensations which stimulate something primordial yet strangely contemporary.

As far back as 2014 she began work on her first productions - early sketches which later became the basis for ‘8’. It all started off as voice memos on her phone (recorded while roaming the streets and riding the trains of Greater Buenos Aires). Later on, Morita introduced various instruments into her vision: kalimba, harmonica, keyboard, flute, tambourine, chajchas, and cajón. Composed and performed from that period until its original release in 2018, ’8’ features 10 original voice-led compositions that in scope recall evocative portraits of synthesized landscapes and rainforests, attuned to a vibrant modern pulse and enchanting vocals. Morita Vargas “8” has achieved a kind of polyphonic soundscape which evokes unfamiliar realities through voyages within and between the realms of ambient and experimental music.

In numerology the number 8 symbolizes the transition between heaven and earth, the illumination of our infinite capacity for various metamorphoses. Tackling ideas of transformation, mutation, cyclical processes, death, creation, melancholy, and joy, the album you are holding is a monumental and deeply personal statement. You are invited to walk barefoot down the mystical path and indulge in the process of spiritual expulsion and renewal that is ‘8’. The path lies along the route of infinite meanings, somewhere on the border between dream and reality.

For Fans Of... Monophonics, David Axelrod, The Rugged Nuggets, Adrian Quesada. Debut LP from The Ironsides. Founded and produced by Monophonics member Max Ramey. Featuring members of Monophonics, including Kelly Finnigan. Reminiscent of a cinematic soundtrack from a 60s European film. The Ironsides have arrived. Changing Light is the first full-length effort from this masterful group of Bay Area musicians. It melds classic psych-soul sounds with sweeping orchestral arrangements – reminiscent of a cinematic soundtrack from a 60s European film. The Changing Light evokes strong imagery of an open road, a breathtaking view, and scenes of a vast landscape begging to be explored. Cruise up the coast, where sweeping orchestral arrangements rise and fall with the tide. As you head North, the countryside opens to an undeniable groove. Tremolo-soaked guitar tones grow on the vines, and timeless, soulful bass lines flow like wine. In higher altitudes, French horns and trumpets soar like eagles. A river below carries bellowing cello tones through a mountain pass into an expansive canyon. Down in the desert, fuzzed-out electric guitar cuts through the dry heat and leaves the listener thirsty for more. Plot a course, or just turn on the car and drive. Max recommends the latter. "The songs are inspired by landscapes - Each one could mean something to someone and create a completely different meaning for someone else." At the end of a long road, The Ironsides have found the perfect place to begin. Also Available From The Ironsides: Changing Light 7", The Raven / Song For Adrian 7"

Santos’ first release for Matt Edwards’ Rekids imprint, the four-track ‘We Were All Kids Once’ EP, is a continuation of the experienced producer’s output on his own Let Me Understand Records, which has seen a staggering amount of support from DJs since it’s launch in 2018.

Traversing rugged, tracky, Relief-influenced House/Techno (‘One Day’), drummy grooves (‘Don’t Touch’ and ‘Rollercoaster’) and cosseting beat-down Deep House (‘Someone’), ‘We Were All Kids Once’ is one of those genuinely essential EPs that provides exceptionally consistent dancefloor ammunition across it’s breadth.

With the likes of Ryan Elliott, Honey Dijon, Ame, Raresh, Luke Slater, Enzo Siragusa, Ben Sims and more supporting his output over the past few years, Santos is in the form of his career. While releases like the breakthrough ‘Camels’ and the anthem ‘Hold Home’ mark Santos as a producer of note at the turn of the century, his four solo albums and, most recently, his Let Me Understand Records EPs have proved he’s an artist that is constantly pushing forward.

Santos’ EPs regularly fall into the ‘if you know, you know’ category of various tastemakers across Disco, House and Techno and ‘We Were All Kids Once’ neatly displays why.

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

Andrew Macari's next offering comes on the small but already well-formed Vessel Recordings label and it delves into some super deep house sounds. 'U Hold Me Tight' is a shuffling, gently percussive number with swaying drums and the sort of groove to lock you in. 'Don't Make Me Wait' is a slower groove with drums that drag their heels in an intriguing way then 'Hana's Jazz Cafe' gets more funky with some playful swing. 'Curiously' shuts down with a nice raw and dusty sound topped with some freaky vocals.

"This is the time that we, who have benefitted from the Last Poets shouldbe able to say, 'it's the Last Poets. It's them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years_"

KRS One wasn't just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered
those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation - a poem
written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets' last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who's been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.

In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin
Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album -
Understand What Black Is - that earned favourable comparison with theirseminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion andlyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting - that of reggae music. Trackslike Rain Of Terror ("America is a terrorist") and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they'd lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d'etre remained the same.

"The Last Poets' mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives," wrote their biographer Kim Green. "They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people - that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change."

Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti's best work, dropped by Prince Fatty's Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who'd gathered in East Harlem's Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X's birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group's 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He'd written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. "We were getting ready for a revolution," he told Green. "There wasn't any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as "niggers" and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power." He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. "You're a gash man," Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. "Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven," he says, "it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound_" Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 "stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind." They'd walked into Sylvia's soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn't eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun's poem hasn't lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. "Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn't changed a bit," he admits, except "today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion." Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That's where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called "the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word- music" - a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar's father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he'd joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle. Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he'd learnt in the few weeks since he'd got there. "Niggers are scared of revolution," Umar replied. "Write it down" urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar's own words, "it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else's system of values and morals." And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear - a system born from political choice and that's now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it's put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people's acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets' use of the "n word" that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There's never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand. Umar's two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets' second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom "by any means necessary," and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. "All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares," he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen's ferocious drumming. Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they'd finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty's studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti's band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen's trademark grooves exclaimed, "oh, the Father_ we are home!" Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn't yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape - one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they'd once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who's been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK's now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question. The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets' own. It's important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we're presented with here aren't the result of sampling but were played "live" by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That's where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty's peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all- encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets' album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we're now living in. John Masouri

As Odysee celebrates its 30th anniversary, the label’s original founder Atila Kemal (T-Mirage) steps up to deliver this jaw-dropping E.P.

In 1994, Tilla was just 17 years old, and an integral part of the original St Albans collective that comprised Jim Baker & Phil Aslett (Source Direct) and Rupert Parkes (Photek), when he set up the Odysee imprint and released the first Source Direct record (Future London/Shimmer). With a follow-up release from Photek (Phaze 1/Try A Style) and a second from Source Direct, the profile of the label began to grow exponentially.

It was the 3 Mirage releases however that really put the label on the map. These tracks were engineered by Jim Baker but heavily co-produced by Tilla himself with a major focus on his keen ear for dark 70’s Noire samples and eerie abstract electronica pitted against soulful R&B vocals. In hindsight, the impact of this rather different soundscape on the Source Direct material that followed is unmistakable.

The A side track Dark Rhodes is a showcase of T-Mirage’s production skillsets. From the opening atmosphere of utter menace and spacious percussion, to the trademark call and response between the different breaks and speaker shaking subs; this track will take the listener straight back to that infamous dark 1995/6 sound that emerged from both the Odysee & Source Direct studios. What is particularly noticeable is the distinctive pairing of sets of samples to form unique sections within the piece, whilst maintaining the consistent rolling energy of the drums & bass. This was a clear stylistic trait the earlier tracks like Feel My Dreams, and is very much on display in Dark Rhodes; leaving us in no doubt that we are listening to the work of one of the OG St Albans Jungle masters!

One of the most important aspects of each Odysee release was to demonstrate versatility on the B side tunes. As a label that was an important part of the mid 90’s Atmospheric scene, it would be remiss not to revisit that style on this seminal E.P. The first of the two B-side tracks is the incredible Existence.

Everything about this piece is a pure distillation of Tilla’s musical style; from the intricacy of the break work and the depth of the subs, to the masterful dovetailing of the 70’s Noire and Jazz samples that build a cohesive arrangement drawing the listener deeper into the tune’s narrative- “A piece of music that’s just a pure expression.... A celebration of existence!” There is no need to re-invent the wheel, or to force groundbreaking new tricks when the strength of this classic sound is so overwhelmingly persuasive!

With the final track Flawless, Tilla delivers an absolute heart-breaker of a tune that rivals the very best of the original Odysee & SD B-sides. Misty-eyed pads and Jazzy rides launch the crisp rolling Think breaks. The deep melodic sub line and haunting guitar riffs draw the listener in, then hold the listener in suspense for a moment before dropping down in the body of the track. The gorgeous guitar motifs are paired with achingly gorgeous vocal ad-libs and avant-garde electronica, emerging orchestral flutters with that unmistakable 70’s Noire flavour. Once again it is

Tilla’s ear for those ‘special sounds’ that really sets this track apart, and as if that wasn’t enough, some 4 minutes down the track Flawless nonchalantly unveils another primary motif; well worthy in of itself of being the tracks centrepiece!
Absolutely stunning heritage-style Atmospheric Jungle at its finest!

Sister Rosetta Tharpe was a pioneering rock & roll figure, blending gospel and blues, influencing artists like Elvis, Aretha, and James Brown.

High Roller Records, 2nd pressing, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, black vinyl, ltd 200, 4 page insert, download code, poster

High Roller Records, 2nd pressing, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, black vinyl, ltd 200, 4 page insert, download code, poster

All the music in the world is at your fingertips, and it's up to you to set the vibe_ So, what should we listen to? If you're having trouble deciding, turn on the radio. It's the perfect place to discover something new, or jam along to a tried-and-true station that'll never let you down.Tune In is due out 11/1/2024 via Chiefdom Records. The second of three installments in the Terrestrial Radio series, it's a carefully curated collection of instrumental fusion, designed to serve as the perfect radio mix for fans of jazz, hip hop, funk, soul, reggae and beyond. It's the latest release from Cincinnati based executive producer Doctor Bionic (Jason Grimez). As a DJ, producer, and former member of 90s rap group MOOD, Grimez' musical career revolves around hip hop. He's always preferred to sample songs from the late 60s and early 70s because of the authentic tone. "Growing up collecting and sampling records was an education, whether we realized it or not," he explained. Grimez records and produces music using analog gear to emulate the instrumentals that he's always loved as he works with some of the best musicians in the Cincinnati area to bring his ideas to life. Among others, Jonathan Luck Spaulding and Josh "Mojo" Cole made several appearances on guitar throughout the record. Every Doctor Bionic release is accompanied by a unique, thought-provoking album cover. For Tune In, Grimez worked with Refael Idan Suissa, a painter and digital artist based in Israel.Next time you're looking for some new instrumental tunes to set the tone, you can count on the growing catalog from Doctor Bionic. Tune In is available everywhere on 11/1/24.

"Inferno" ist das 17. Album von Motörhead und wurde
ursprünglich am 22. Juni 2004 veröffentlicht. Es war das
erste von vielen Alben der Band, das von Cameron Webb
produziert wurde. "Inferno" wurde das härteste Album von
Motörhead seit Jahren, obwohl der letzte Song des
Albums "Whorehouse Blues" mit seinem
Country-Blues-Stil und Lemmy an der Mundharmonika so
etwas wie eine Ausnahme darstellte. Das Album wurde
als ihr bestes seit einem Jahrzehnt gepriesen. Das Album
erscheint nun neu als orangefarbene Doppel-Vinyl und als
Digipak

Bicoastal disco aficionado, Super Elevation label/shop owner, and all-around legend of the scene, Tom Noble brings forth a sprawling project 15 years in the making with his House of Spirits full length LP on Razor-N-Tape.

Slow-cooked over more than a decade, the eight tracks that stretch across this double 12 inch pack are the realization of Tom’s unique vision of modern dancefloor soul, with lush live instrumentation and deviously catchy hooks. Boasting a near encyclopedic knowledge of decades of club music, Tom draws on influences like Patrick Adams & the Mizell Brothers to build a sound that’s both reverent to the past, but feels extremely fresh and immediately timeless.

The lead off singles ‘Times Are Changing’ and ‘Please Take Me There’ and respective remixes by Harvey Sutherland, Makez and Sizmo have already garnered huge support, and ‘Holding On’ the beloved original House Of Spirits single from 2020 appears with a shiny new mix. The album opens with ‘Love Trip,’ an uptempo invitation to the sonic world to follow, and moves through various moods, like the Brit-funk vibe of ‘Time Is Running Out,’ the mid-tempo groover ‘I Get Lifted’ and the downtempo R&B smoothness of ‘Diamond Eyes’ featuring dreamcastmoe on vocals.

The cheeky dollar bin artwork rounds out this package perfectly, and with the tracks mixed to perfection and cut tough for the floor, this is an essential record that will surely find a permanent home in the bag.

RTJ3, the third outing by the firebrand rap duo of Killer Mike and El-P, features a cadre of talented guest performers, including Zach de la Rocha, Danny Brown, Tunde Adebimpe of TV On The Radio, Kamasi Washington, and more. The album is "essentially the Run the Jewels manifesto, an outpouring of rage and defiance that never loses sight of the objectives: rallying the troops, holding all accountable, and toppling oppression." (Pitchfork)

Released on Christmas Day 2016, the album charted in 11 countries, with its breakout hit from the album, "Legend Has It", being featured in the Super Bowl advertisement for the global blockbuster feature film "Black Panther". Embraced by fans and critics alike, it's received praise for its near-perfect execution as well as its sharp, visceral observations, blistering beats and superb guest artists, cementing RTJ as one of the most important artists of its era.

The third EP by the adventurous and unstoppable Stefan Schwander that you might already know from one of his other disguises such as Harmonious Thelonious, A Rocket In Dub or Antonelli Electr. - just to name a few. All tracks were virtuously and solely jammed out on Elektron's Monomachine once again.

Deep basslines, ravy bleeps, piano chords and synth melodies are awaiting us and let us reminisce of Jamaica, UK and Chicago while stepping and dancing into tomorrow.

The EP starts off gently with 'Title Track'. The first bleeps, chords, an incisive bassline and we're already grooving. Strings are building the framework while some house piano and a ravy melody let us hum along.

'Sublime' speeds things up with its shuffling, minimalistic beat but the dub bassline holds it down and functions as a resting pole to the vibrancies around. A pristine synthline comes in and supports the meandering chords. Dance off.

On the flipside 'Definition Of ...' sums it up what While My Sequencer Gently Bleeps is all about: a deep bass as bedrock, lively percussion, a little melody, tiptoeing chords. Everything sensitively used, telling a story. Listen on repeat.