Search:hold the sun

‘SUN SHONE’ is a multidisciplinary music and art project of Istanbul-born, Amsterdam-based Deniz Omeroglu AKA Loradeniz,. ‘SUN SHONE’ marks the arrival of her debut full-length album: eight tracks of ambient electronic music painted masterfully with a palette of synthesizers, effects, percussion and ethereal voice.

‘SUN SHONE’ was conceived in two parts: the first tracks coming spontaneously to life in the aftermath of heartbreak, with Omeroglu trusting the creative flow and using it as a method of self- healing. What was initially planned as an EP release grew into a full-length album as she spent one month consciously working on the perfect B-side to complement the music.

Omeroglu wrote, performed and produced everything on the album, drawing on her deep knowledge of music theory and production; in addition to studying classical piano in the Conservatory from an early age, she holds both a Bachelor’s degree in Composition Studies and a Masters degree in Sound Design.

Many of the compositions on ‘SUN SHONE’ centre around interplaying synth arpeggios, oscillators expertly tuned for an equal degree of menace and sweetness that balances on a knife-edge. This ambiguity is echoed lyrically across the record, with its recurring themes of love lost and memories revisited. From the spoken word of opener ‘Saint Odds’ and ‘Swimmer’ to the layered choral swells of ‘No Moon’ and the melodic hooks of ‘Brick House’, Omeroglu’s voice is central to ‘SUN SHONE’, employed with impressive versatility. At times, it feels simultaneously fragile and powerful, perhaps nowhere more so than in the yearning swells of “Cloud Sofa’, a healing lullaby for lost love that offers up one of the most delicate moments on the album. 


Whilst this may loosely be referred to as an ‘ambient’ album, Loradeniz’s knowledge of modern day production techniques and experience as both a sound designer and seasoned DJ (both in clubs and on radio) makes its presence felt throughout; echoes of Artificial Intelligence-era IDM appear in the dancing arpeggios and rhythmic pulses of ‘Sea Serpent’ and ‘Waterbear’, while the album closer ‘Aftersun’ could easily be imagined working as the euphoric last tune of a club set at sunrise. 


With her debut album, Loradeniz weaves together an impressive breadth of styles and sounds, all held seamlessly together by a feeling; a cathartic desire to bring out all the melancholia from within. The album opens with the words ‘The search of love continues in the face of great odds’ a suitable mantra for a record that manages to combine melancholy with intense rushes of positivity and hopes for the future.

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.

Flying Vipers record murky dubwise reggae on a Tascam 8-track in their basement bunker. Their love of Jamaican and UK 70's roots and dub is their north star, but eclectic crates of records and a couple decades worth of punk shows bleed through on tape. Twin brothers Marc & John Beaudette on drums and bass telekinetically lock-in with Zack Brines' layers of vintage organs and electric pianos in concise melodic meditations. "With ‘Off World’, their first full-length album featuring vocalist Kellee Webb, the Boston area band uses this foundation to explore the fight or flight of contemporary survival." While largely original compositions, three covers encapsulate the lyrical and musical themes found throughout the LP; an alienation anthem from Northwest punk pioneers Wipers; the theme from the cult classic animated film La Planete Sauvage, featuring the acclaimed jazz harpist Brandee Younger; and quite possibly the first dubwise Sun Ra tribute. Their own singles like "Believers & Deceivers" and "Jackals" confront the grim reality of modern culture, wondering if life in America, and/or Earth, is worth fighting for or leaving behind. Through it all the drum and bass is there, to help you hold your ground and to guide your escape into sonic space.

Wenn sie nicht gerade aus dem Fenster auf die stürmische Skyline von Manhattan blickte, verbrachte Margo Guryan ihre dreißiger Jahre damit, Ohrwürmer für Leute wie Bobbie Gentry, Jackie DeShannon, Claudine Longet, Carmen McCrae und Julie London bei CBS's April Blackwood Music zu schreiben. Guryans zeitlose Gedanken über Liebe, Sonntage, Erdbeben, Weinen und Jungs namens Timothy haben unzählige Filme und virale Videos unterlegt. Meisterwerke aus früheren Zeiten. 28 ihrer Songwriting-Demos aus den 60er und 70er Jahren sind auf dieser 25-jährigen Jubiläums-Doppelalbum-Edition.

Selena Gomez and Benny Blanco team up to release their first project as a couple, "I Said I Love You First" set to be released on March 21st via SMG Music LLC & Friends Keep Secrets under exclusive license to Interscope Records. The album celebrates the pair's love story, giving fans a unique window into their relationship. This album came together organically as a direct result of the comfort that they both felt when working together creatively, allowing them to produce art that authentically reflects their experiences. It chronicles their entire story - before they met, falling in love, and looking to what the future holds.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

SUNAGA tatsuo (sunaga t'experience)
DJ and Music Producer. Basing his activities around his own club ‘Shibuya Organ Bar’, holds regular club nights throughout Japan. Apart from his own mix CDs such as the ‘Organ b. SUITE’ which many say is in a class of its own, has produced remixes for the ‘Soul Source 2: Jackson 5 Remix’ and Yasuharu Konishi’s ‘Punch the Monkey’. He began his own label ‘AFTERS OR’ in 1998,acting both as artist and producer. Releasing records under the alias of ‘Sunaga t experience’ on avex/cutting edge records, the ‘It’s you’ 12 inch made record sales of 7,000 records, an incredibly large number in the vinyl market. His name is known in Europe through such labels as IRMA and SCHEMA records, and has remained in the forefront of the industry since the beginning of the Tokyo club scene.

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.

Band leader, songwriter, arranger and producer of the now disbanded Pizzicato Five (1985-2001). Although having 2 successful world tours and 5 international albums under his belt, with fans ranging from London’s Karminsky Experience to Karl Lagerfeld, many of his fans know him as a DJ, spinning in Tokyo’s hotspots such as Shibuya’s ‘Organ Bar’. He tours regularly throughout Japan and abroad. In the Jackson 5 Remix Album, his remix ‘I want you back (readymade 524 mix)’ received an extraordinary amount of national radio play.
The remix album itself has scored healthy rankings in major record stores. In 1998, his own project ‘Punch the Monkey!’ (in which he remixes the theme tune of a popular Japanese cartoon series ‘Lupin the Third’) sold over 700,000 records, and this, some say, began Japan’s remix rush. His achievements truly invaded the mainstream when in 2000, he produced the No.1 single ‘Oha-Rock’ which became a social phenomenon in itself. Most
recently, he set up his own record label, ‘readymade international inc.’ from he which he plans to release new exciting solo works.
His talents also embrace film and photography and he is well known as a director in promotional videos, shows and advertisements. T-shirts and original goods which Konishi personally designed are sold in select shops such as BEAMS of Shibuya.
He is also a writer having regular columns in various magazines, and has also written several books. A collection of his essays have been published under the title ‘Kore wa koi de wa nai’ (’This is not love’)

SUNAGA tatsuo (sunaga t'experience)
DJ and Music Producer. Basing his activities around his own club ‘Shibuya Organ Bar’, holds regular club nights throughout Japan. Apart from his own mix CDs such as the ‘Organ b. SUITE’ which many say is in a class of its own, has produced remixes for the ‘Soul Source 2: Jackson 5 Remix’ and Yasuharu Konishi’s ‘Punch the Monkey’. He began his own label ‘AFTERS OR’ in 1998,acting both as artist and producer. Releasing records under the alias of ‘Sunaga t experience’ on avex/cutting edge records, the ‘It’s you’ 12 inch made record sales of 7,000 records, an incredibly large number in the vinyl market. His name is known in Europe through such labels as IRMA and SCHEMA records, and has remained in the forefront of the industry since the beginning of the Tokyo club scene.

Wrekmeister Harmonies, the duo of JR Robinson and Esther Shaw, are sonic shape shifters with expansive ideas. From special performances to collaborations the band have worked with David Yow (Jesus Lizard) Ryley Walker, Ken Vandermark, Bruce Lamont, Mark Solotroff, Sanford Parker, Jamie Fennely (Mind Over Mirrors), The Body, Mary Lattimore, Olivia Block, Jamie Stewart (Xiu Xiu), Chris Brokaw, Fred Lonberg-Holm and Thor Harris (Swans). Inspired by artists such as Glenn Branca, Rhys Chatham, and Lou Reed, the duo approach each album as a new sonic adventure. Flowers in the Spring was born of deep, careful listening as much as composing. It explores music as a meditative practice with a focus on microtonal shifts and intersectional overtones. Robinson explains: "It"s the subtle movements within and without, the fine threads of sound, loud or quiet, interior or exterior that become valuable." Limiting himself to just four mixer channels on each piece; precisely layering guitar and electronics, intently listening and manipulating either the intensity or the duration of each loop to yield unexpected interactions, moments of beauty as well as dissonance. "Flowers in Spring" emerges from fizzing distortion, hewing monolithic slabs of drone from the rock face while electronics push through fissures. "Fuck the Pigs" uses layers of noise as it metaphorically shifts into the depths of winter, arctic winds howling while the guitar scars like frost across a windowpane. In contrast "A Shepherd Stares Into the Sun" is pure light and heat, overwhelming in its sheer celestial enormity. "Flowers Variation" was born of nature"s microscopic subterranean movements in its primordial gloom and buzzing synth pads. Each track holds multitudes of micro sonic details coming together to form the album"s expansive ecosystem.

Wrekmeister Harmonies, the duo of JR Robinson and Esther Shaw, are sonic shape shifters with expansive ideas. From special performances to collaborations the band have worked with David Yow (Jesus Lizard) Ryley Walker, Ken Vandermark, Bruce Lamont, Mark Solotroff, Sanford Parker, Jamie Fennely (Mind Over Mirrors), The Body, Mary Lattimore, Olivia Block, Jamie Stewart (Xiu Xiu), Chris Brokaw, Fred Lonberg-Holm and Thor Harris (Swans). Inspired by artists such as Glenn Branca, Rhys Chatham, and Lou Reed, the duo approach each album as a new sonic adventure. Flowers in the Spring was born of deep, careful listening as much as composing. It explores music as a meditative practice with a focus on microtonal shifts and intersectional overtones. Robinson explains: "It"s the subtle movements within and without, the fine threads of sound, loud or quiet, interior or exterior that become valuable." Limiting himself to just four mixer channels on each piece; precisely layering guitar and electronics, intently listening and manipulating either the intensity or the duration of each loop to yield unexpected interactions, moments of beauty as well as dissonance. "Flowers in Spring" emerges from fizzing distortion, hewing monolithic slabs of drone from the rock face while electronics push through fissures. "Fuck the Pigs" uses layers of noise as it metaphorically shifts into the depths of winter, arctic winds howling while the guitar scars like frost across a windowpane. In contrast "A Shepherd Stares Into the Sun" is pure light and heat, overwhelming in its sheer celestial enormity. "Flowers Variation" was born of nature"s microscopic subterranean movements in its primordial gloom and buzzing synth pads. Each track holds multitudes of micro sonic details coming together to form the album"s expansive ecosystem.

Attention space cadets!
Following last year's much lauded Kaliyuga Express debut 'Warriors & Masters', Nolla (Finnish psych/space rockers) & Mike Vest (Maximalist guitar guru, Bong, Blown Out, Drunk In Hell, Artifacts & Uranium, Modoki, Tomoyuki Trio, Mienakunaru etc) combine their visions once again and explore dark futuristic mindscapes.
They set their sights to the looming eons and gaze through an occult lens. Inspired by classic space rock, driving hypnotic krautrock and bleak synth soundscapes.
The ground was laid in improvised Nolla sessions and further ascended with gloomy prophecies and lyrical explorations by Ilkka and Otto. With Ohto’s assertive drums and Teemu's solid guitars the canvas was set for Mike to paint his transcendent multilayered guitars.
Bleak and overbearing sights are explored, but the future holds a speck of hope if you are prepared to embrace the darkness.
For fans of: Hawkwind, Can, Sun Dial, Bevis Frond, Space Rock, Krautrock etc.
Otto Juutilainen - Vocals, Synth, Lyrics, Mix, Mastering, Ilkka Vekka - Bass, Electronics, Lyrics, Art, Mike Vest - Guitar, Teemu Vilmunen - Guitar, Ohto Pallas - Drums
Recorded in Finland & the United Kingdom Winter/Spring 2024

*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.

LP limited to 500 LP copies. Nina Garcia ’s first solo record widely available via international distribution. Nina has collaborated with artists like Stephen O’Malley, Sophie Agnel, Fred Frith, Antoine Chessex, Louis Schild, Leila Bordreuil, and supported for bands like Sonic Youth, SUNN O))). After a decade of performing concerts under the Mariachi guise, Nina Garcia has finally unveiled her unique approach in Bye Bye Bird, her first album under her name. Bye Bye Bird is her second solo album. With no pretence or demonstration, the album is a captivating blend of chiaroscuro, melodies, and raw emotion. Nina Garcia’s album takes on an almost documentary-like quality by adopting a simple approach to gesture and sound recording. It offers a candid portrayal of a moment, a lack, a state, and a breathtaking energy. With ostinato as her only credo, Nina Garcia’s music is an experiment in freedom, where the peaks answer the abysses, and the power of movement and the emotion of sound serves as her compass. From very short (01:28) to never very long (07:34), the eight tracks that make up this set explore a moment, a space, a mechanism, an intention or a way of doing things. As a common feature of almost all these pieces (all but one, the last), Nina Garcia explores a new technique. She adds to her instrumentation, reduced to the essentials (a guitar, a pedal and an amp), an electromagnetic microphone which, when held in hand, makes it possible to listen in on the exact zones where the vibration of the string creates a sound amid vast spaces of silence. The guitar is unplugged, and the body/instrument relationship changes in dimension. In this series of variations, you can get caught up in masses of noise seen from very, very close up, evocations of melodies in the making, feedback on ridgelines, pulsations that hold their own, modulations weakened by exhaustion and harmonic bursts that hint at better days to come. Neither hopelessly chthonic nor beatifically ethereal, Bye Bye Bird is a sum of musical pieces that make a whole and give voice to echoes of what has been, the presence of what is and the hope of what will be, a record movement in the form of flight and salvation. Since 2015, Nina Garcia has been researching and creating around the electric guitar, halfway between improvised music and noise. On numerous stages in Europe and North America, she has played occasionally with Stephen O’Malley, Sophie Agnel, Fred Frith, Antoine Chessex, Louis Schild or with Luke Stewart and Leila Bordreuil’s Feedback Ensemble, in addition to more regular formations in which she participates, such as the ensemble Le Un, mamiedaragon, Autoreverse (with Arnaud Rivière), duets with trombonist Maria Bertel and percussionist Camille Émaille, and the installation piece De Haut En Bas, De Bas En Haut Et Latéralement (with Christophe Cardoen, Jennifer Caubet, Etienne Foyer, Anna Gaïotti and Romain Simon). “Nina Garcia has been actively moving the art of noise guitar into surprising and intriguing new spaces. She has been at it for some time now, a bit of a secret weapon all the while hiding in plain sight. As I listen to her music and ruminate upon seeing her perform it brings me to a realization which I have with very few musicians: the ego inherent in making art can be transcended through a purity of direct action. At least that’s the feeling I have when experiencing Nina’s music which comes across as serious and radical and wholly engaged in the moment of its creative impulse.

Although many a vibe has shifted since the days of dubbing NNF001 one at a time on the floor of a Koreatown bachelor apartment in February of 2004, using stolen photocopies and tie-dyeing J-cards with wine, the label’s essential premise has not. Then, as now, the vision was to elevate and enshrine outsiders, foragers, hidden gems, and hybrid sounds on cheap tapes or affordable records, to be savoured and shared in the here and now. 399 catalogue titles later, the centre still holds.

To toast the label’s 20th anniversary and 400th release, we commissioned a gold roll call of alumni and affiliates: Alley Of The Sun. Named in homage to the Malibu mystic music fountainhead, skewed through a smoggy sideways lens, the 16-song, 90-minute, double LP suite spans every shade of NNF’s Pacific palette: rainforest ceremony, skyway motorik, Tascam rapture, silhouette shoegaze, basement vapour, astral ascension, jazz shadows, 5th world tropics, lucid dream drone, desert quests, prophecy electronics, ritual wreckage.

Equal parts snapshot, tapestry, and time capsule, the compilation reflects the breadth of NNF’s two-decade exploration and evolution, from simple soil to a sea of dunes. True undergrounds have no set sound or fixed polarity, only flashes of transient magic and forking paths, to be cherished and championed for as long as the candle lasts.

Repress!

Voodoos and Taboos first appeared in 2019. A mysterious outfit, their melting pot sound immediately caught the ears of the faithful; acid cut with house, electro beats shot through with a punk D.I.Y. attitude. Their escapades didn’t miss us here at Bordello.

Reversible Dreams collects four examples of this chameleon club style that Voodoos and Taboos have cultivated, the EP opening with the title piece. Cascading chords and whispered samples give way to rich bass strings as a playful piano melody transforms into squirming acid beams.

Claps and neat notes introduce “Unconditional Love”, vocoder lyrics mingling with spoken word and juddering space TB303 squawk. The flip adopts a darker hue. Off-kilter bars and stern beats introduce “Animae”, alien electro melodies descend as a fizzing late night energy takes hold. BPMs drop for “Destino Lontano.”

Warm basslines and Eastern scented synth-play weave their way through the piece, delicate strings and dawn sunshine leading to a close.

Written and recorded in a firestorm of creativity during the mastering phase of Lukah's upcoming double LP with Real Bad Man, Permanent Blackface is a monstrous vignette displaying the true power of Lukah's songwriting and the technical brilliance of his team. The album flashes before you like a lightning strike illuminating a barren cityscape.

Introducing himself as Mr. Blackface, Lukah identifies the true artist's responsibility to hold a mirror to the listener in order to confront and disarm taboos. In both content and music, the record balances vulgarity and introspection, the horror of silence, and the comfort of colossal, discordant sound. Over 12 songs the celestial, often blood-soaked color palette of soul and R&B that gave emotional weight to Why Look Up and Raw Extractions has been scraped away like a charred skeleton. With a small cast of voices consisting entirely of Lukah's immediate family, and production duties handled in-house by WALZ, Deener, Hollow Sol, Cities Aviv, SB11, and Lukah himself, the record has the intimacy of a theater production. The only voices present are Lukah, joined by his mother providing scat vocals, and his grandfather discussing the Jungian self-hatred of the colonial project and its terrifying repercussions for contemporary Black Amer-icans, with a fitting invocation of Dr. Frankenstein's monster. The beats here are reminiscent of noir, 78rpm swing and big band, evoking the underlying horror of a pre-Civil Rights movement America, where segregational binaries invert-ed folk tales through the white terror of ghosts, the black "spook", and mythic themes of fate and free will. The whip-lash of shifting perspectives keeps your head on a swivel in way only Lukah's superior pen can elucidate. Will it trigger anger that first voice you hear on Permanent Blackface is Judy Garland singing "Sweet Chariot"? But isn't this just Lukah speaking through her, announcing he's got "The Southin his mouth"? As the internet endlessly debates intention and appropriation in our artistic history, the insignificance of this small sample is put into perspective: another white pebble in a black ocean of Lukah's creation. "If the sun don't shine today / pray the sun come out tomorrow...pray the sun pierce through the sorrow"

The album introduces an unnamed character beset by disposition. As the story's scope increases, the gaze of the mir-ror shifts. How would white society feel if historical roles were reversed? How does a presumed white listener experi-ence the trauma of interacting with police?

Writing music, for singer-songwriter and producer Fine, “feels like being entrusted with a secret.” On Rocky Top Ballads, the Copenhagen-based musician’s debut album, these secrets take the form of minimalist compositions that search for glimpses of beauty in the everyday. Recorded, produced, and mixed by Fine, the album is a mystical soundtrack to a captivating songwriter’s explorations of process and intuition.

“The whole album is about the moments when you see a crack in something,” Fine explains, “where you briefly see another side of yourself or of someone you've known forever.”

Fine grew up in Denmark’s rural Northern Jutland; there, her father’s guitar and banjo playing formed the sonic backdrop of her childhood. In the years since, her musical curiosity has led her to work across a range of styles and sounds. In her early twenties, she became part of Danish electronic trio Chinah, which released three albums. You might also have caught her sampled vocals on the joyfully rollicking Two Shell song “Home,” from 2021. Then, last year, she — along with Erika de Casier and Smerz — co-wrote three songs for the massive, critically lauded K-pop group New Jeans. Fine is also a part of Clarissa Connelly Canons group back home in Denmark, and writes music under the moniker Coined with composer and songwriter Astrid Sonne.

But Rocky Top Ballads is a turn back towards a more personal, stream-of-consciousness songwriting style. Fine wrote and recorded these songs sporadically over the course of the last few years. In light of Chinah’s collaborative, piecemeal production style, Fine craved a more organic, intuitive process for these songs. Her work on the record combines sample-based production with the sounds of instruments she and her collaborators could hold in their hands, ones that inspired free-flowing improvisation: electric and acoustic guitar, even the Ensoniq keyboard that was in her childhood home. The resulting songs are equally inspired by the country and folk of her childhood, the hazy beauty of Mazzy Star, the avant-garde pop of Dean Blunt, and the songwriting of ’90s singer-songwriters like Suzanne Vega.

Fine describes her songwriting process as a “magical thinking method”: being in contact with the present moment and pretending as if she already knows the song she’s about to write. Many of the songs on Rocky Top Ballads use the original takes of Fine’s vocals, an attempt to capture a song’s initial essence and avoid disturbing the song’s generative idea as much as possible. You can hear that well-preserved spark on songs like “Losing Tennessee,” a minimalist and wistful reflection on the inherent loss and change of growing older. She wrote other tracks, like the piano-led “Whys” and the woozy “Coasting,” through a process of cutting and layering her improvisations, carefully merging multiple musical snippets into newly seamless compositions. And the stunning closing track “A Star” is the product of a slow process of evolution: beginning as an understated expression of sincerity before dissolving into a rich, distorted guitar-driven exploration.

As a songwriter and producer, Fine’s work often peers into the universes of experience that can be hidden inside a fragmentary moment. Sometimes she explores this literally — as in “Days Incomplete,” which she built off a short sample from “A Star.” This impulse — to zoom in, to recontextualize, to excavate — threads throughout her lyrics, too. What happens, her songs ask, when we pay close attention to those everyday images and physical realities we might otherwise ignore: the sky, the rain, the sun, the sea? On the spacious and swoony “Big Muzzy,” with its gentle sway and Cocteau Twins-inflected vocals, Fine sings about watching the “summer turn blue”; the grooving, propulsive “Remember The Heart” is a love letter to the sea where she grew up. In her airy voice, Fine traces meandering melodies that continually unspool with fresh insights.

A particular mantra guided Fine’s songwriting throughout the creation of Rocky Top Ballads: “Everything has potential.” In these songs, small moments are worthy of deep contemplation, and gentleness can evoke worlds of emotion. The resulting songs offer a gift of momentary pleasure, flowing and unhurried as a gentle breeze.

Marissa Lorusso

Ni A Nhw (‘Us And Them’) is a new collection of songs by Carwyn Ellis, sung mostly in his native Welsh. Drawn from his catalogue under four different guises - Colorama, Rio 18, Bendith and solo as Carwyn Ellis - it features songs spanning over a decade, most of which have not been available to stream before. Or on vinyl for that matter!

The music itself is mostly in a folk-pop / singer-songwriter vein so although it spans a number of years and projects, it holds together well. There are seasoned favourites - ‘Llythr Y Glowr’, ‘Gall Pethau Gymryd Sbel’ and ‘Ti’ have been staples on BBC Radio Cymru over the last 5 years or so. Covers include’Gorffennaf’ (‘Luglio’ in it’s original Italian) which was released with Rio 18 this Summer, and ‘Cân Am Gariad’ (Lesley Duncan’s ‘Love Song’) and ‘Hwiangerdd Takeda’ (‘Takeda no Moriuta’ in it’s original Japanese), both recorded with Bendith for their long-sold out 12” EP on Manchester’s legendary Aficionado label in 2017. Some of the songs on the album were previously only released digitally via Bandcamp as fund raisers during the Covid era - ‘Gair O Gysur’ as Rio 18 and ‘Drudwen’, ‘Cardigan Bay’ and ‘Ti’ as Carwyn Ellis himself.

As the album draws to its close, the tunes take a slightly more electronic turn, beginning with ‘Kerro’, from the Colorama mini album ‘Llyfr Lliwio’ originally released in 2011. The CD and streaming versions of the album close with the Begin remix of ‘Hapus?’ By Colorama, an epic Balearic chill out tune if ever there was one!

As Carwyn finishes work on the next Rio 18 album (due in 2024) this is a welcome reminder of his varied skills as a singer, songwriter, arranger, producer and collaborator - a colourful chameleon, comfortable working in any number of musical styles, and never prepared to sit still. This collection, following on from 2014’s ‘Dere Mewn’ CD, brings together all of Carwyn’s remaining Welsh rarities, whether solo, as a bandleader or as a collaborator. Ni a Nhw. Us and Them.

To celebrate the 30th anniversary of bob sinclar"s iconic label, Yellow Productions, step into the catchy world of the french touch with an exceptional and limited boxset with 3 LP vinyl records plus a poster. Discover hits, unreleased nuggets and rare tracks ranging from house to trip-hop, jazz and hip-hop. Discover some of the biggest names on the electronic music scene : Like Dimitri From Paris, Dj Gregory, Kid Loco, Martin Solveig and David Guetta!

Ever wish you could travel back in time and be in the thick of the 1960s rock explosion? Well, until an actual TARDIS is perfected, this album is the next best thing. Recorded in the wee hours of May 26, 1966, A Session with the Remains is a no-holds barred romp through their club set, captured live-to-tape in Capitol Records' studios. Recorded as an audition for the label, the albums seethes and snarls, twists and shouts, rocks and rolls and generally embodies the force of nature that was the Remains. Performing a mix of originals and current hits, the band is in command at every step, rocking one minute and pausing to kibitz between songs the next.

In attempting to describe this album, reviewers have used words like "blazing," "explosive," "delirious" -- but honestly, none of these descriptions comes close to what is contained in the grooves. It's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock & roll, ya know? All you really need to do is listen. After all, one guitar lick is worth a thousand words.

This BLAZING, EXPLOSIVE, DELIRIOUS album was painstakingly sourced from the one-and-only original two-track analog mono master tape and wrestled onto high-quality vinyl and compact disc for your review. I'd like to thank you on behalf of the group and Sundazed for listening and I hope they pass YOUR audition!

"A religious totem of all that was manic and marvelous about mid-'60s pop." - Rolling Stone

"Blazing through a mix of originals and covers, the Remains explode in a torrent melody, searing guitar leads and furious drumming. This quartet's ability to play with such delirious abandon yet still nail the tunes' sharp hooks and abundant vocal harmonies marks it as one of rock's more talented and incendiary units. - Chicago Tribune -

"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

British Funk Renegades - Baker Brothers: A Legacy of Groove and Innovation

Since 2001, British funk luminaries the Baker Brothers have been at the forefront of the UK funk scene, consistently redefining the genre while staying true to its roots. Their groove, deeply embedded in soulful nostalgia, draws inspiration from legendary acts such as Steely Dan, Sly and the Family Stone, The Doobie Brothers, D'Angelo, The Roots, The Meters, and Prince.

Renowned for their electrifying live performances, the Baker Brothers deliver an "in-your-face" experience that takes audiences on a journey through their extensive back catalogue, spanning eight studio albums and four live albums. These albums feature collaborations with notable artists, including Hamish Stuart of the Average White Band, Snowboy, and soul divas Vanessa Freeman, Hannah Williams, Acantha Lang, and Katie Holmes.

With over ten tours in Japan and numerous European tours under their belt, the Baker Brothers have proven their enduring appeal. They continue to navigate the challenges of band life with unwavering creativity and passion, using music as their vehicle to overcome life's hurdles.

As they forge ahead with new creations, the Baker Brothers' signature sound—characterised by tight horns, a driving rhythm section, and irresistibly funky guitar riffs—remains as killer as ever. Their journey is a testament to their longevity and their unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of funk.

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2004’s 'Mantra Of Love’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what others had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2004 …

“Acid Mothers are strong folk. You'd think they'd tire quickly, all tucked away on their island, strewn about on tree roots while baking their lungs and throats to a knotty green tinge. But instead of waltzing through life like hippies, they manage to not only tour and put out records every year, but also to fill those albums with 30-minute jams and assorted freakouts. And while evil jam bands would fill that space with guitar work taken from the Classic Rock Manual of Clichés, Makoto Kawabata and company assault listeners with frighteningly dense walls of white noise, psychedelic swirl effects and, yes, even guitar solos-- albeit ones that are more Merzbow or Keiji Haino than Gary Rossington. Truly, AMT's endurance and threshold for cosmic lashings are both worthy of admiration.

But how much AMT can you take in one sitting? If there's anything this band has taught us-- via records such as 2002's Electric Heavyland and the ferocious Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O-- it's that they're not afraid to reach for the upper regions of consciousness. On Mantra of Love, they offer two titles over the course of one hour, never faltering along the way, and it's as if we listeners are just brief visitors passing through a never-ending, spontaneous group trip. For all I know, Kawabata has hundreds of hours of this stuff on his hard drive-- at any single moment, this record's sheer volume of sound is a clamor to behold. However, if you aren't dialed into that the particular space AMT inhabits (for me, it's the mystical fire-baptism standby), you might not hear their glorious noise for all the, well, glorious noise.

"La Le Lo" begins as a lengthy psychedelic ballad sung by Cotton Casino (who doubles on "beer & cigarettes"), who is accompanied by her own ghostly backing vocals. The band is playing a mantra as Casino waxes earth-mother stylings to the moon. The serenity is broken by a patented AMT rave led by Kawabata's electric sitar (!) solo. Ace rhythm section Tsuyama Atsushi ("monster bass") and Koizumi Hajime hold things together, as does the generally decent recording quality (not a given for these guys), but the real money is in effects-- lots and lots effects. Much like France's Richard Pinhas or AMT's countrymen in Les Rallizes Denudes and High Rise, the band understands the collaborative power of solo + overdriven Moog sirens and screams. And, also like those artists, Acid Mothers can go on all night if need be. About 25 minutes into this piece, any hell that hadn't already broken loose gets its due, and the band speeds to a fiery climax before winding down into glimmering astro-ambience.

The second track, "L'Ambition dans le Miroir", also begins as a minor ballad featuring Casino's haunting solo vocal. The Mothers set her up with a faux-blues drag and a thick buffer of synth-rays; when Casino actually enters, she fights for airtime with an array of falling stars and cosmic dust. However, this time there is no overwhelming solo to power the comedown. Casino intermittently coos in the background while droning horns keep the auxiliary pixie haze from evaporating. As they showed on In C and La Novia, AMT are more than adept at creating calmer storms-- listeners just have to catch them in the right light. Mantra of Love doesn't necessarily capture the most inspired moments in their canon but as usual with this band's records, it's rarely at a loss for moments of horror or grandeur.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. : Cotton Casino - Vocal, Beer & Cigarettes - Tsuyama Atsushi - Monster Bass, Vocal, Cosmic Joker - Higashi Hiroshi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Koizumi Hajime - Drums, Percussion, Sleeping Monk - Kawabata Makoto - Guitar, Bouzouki, Electric Sitar, Violin, Hammond Organ, Speed Guru

"Sympathy Pain is an unusual animal, as their collective backgrounds come from hardcore, drone, and experimental pop in Salt Lake City, Utah. Sympathy Pain began as Skyler Hitchcox’s gloomy drone project which was later joined by Casey Hansen (of Cult Leader) to explore and expand the sullen space that the project initially carved out. Sympathy Pain is rounded out by Chaz Prymek (Lake Mary) and Nora Price. The deep connections to Salt Lake City’s underground well of experimental music have deep entanglements. Sympathy Pain has emerged from those entanglements with a clear eyed thesis, transmuting the often oppressive cultural climate of Utah through a personal veil of heavy sorrow.

Swan Dive is the product of years of excavating that space into a cavern, yielding their self-described “emo)))” (a nod to the preeminent doom/drone band Sunn) while still holding onto the submerged soundscapes that began as the core of the project. The album is expansive — a winding ride that travels from minimalism, to claustrophobic ambient, to triumphant passages that all underscore its forlorn undercurrent.

Originally released in January of 2024 as a CD by The Ghost is Clear and cassette by Diabolical Records, Swan Dive finally finds a new life on vinyl - reissued by the Cincinnati, OH record label Whited Sepulchre Records.

Tracked with Wes Johnson at Archive Recordings in SLC, UT and mixed/mastered by longtime friend and co-conspirator Ben Young, the album features a haunting guest spot by Madeline Johnston of Midwife on “Heaven + Hell” to close out the album."

Conoley Ospovat, with appearances on Otake, Kimochi Sound, Blankhaus, and Cervidae, continues to build his longrunning home imprint: Continental Drift. Opening with a jazzy, atmospheric strut, Transcontinental Trip's title track sets the tone for this record as a more driving, basslinefocused affair than some of his recent downtempo excursions. The taut restraint & open air vibe of loose drumming & ¬eld recordings for Hold On feel like a nonchalant response to Ricardo's Sei Es Drum. Then, Ospovat's attention to melody & clever programming comes to the fore again on Sunbreaks. The tune is a moody dance­oor builder full of twists & turns before the EP closes out with the carbonated haze of Paci¬c Coast Rain

2024 Reissue

The syndicate manifests its sonic potential in full glory. Giving rise to this collection of colossal heavyweights, Sentry demonstrates its spotless record of selecting certified heavyweights for the discography once again, twenty-fold. Stepping into the ring are some of the scene's most prolific artists alongside a plethora of promising, choice newcomers.

Boasting more than an hour of supercharged sound system pressure with names like Caspa, Truth, Bukez Finezt, Nomine and Youngsta himself on the controls - the subsequent inferno proves to be an authoritative display of quality bass music, that is sure to reach roaring stacks of speakers all around the globe for years to come."

"Vintage flavours transmute into fiery low-end excursions in 'Sun Ra' as Onhell reigns with fire and brimstone and makes way for what's to come. Rolling on, Taso lays waste with dimly lit half-time flows as we enter the smoke-filled mansion of Argo's meticulously crafted 'Since Then' - a prime cut of hip-hop infused breakbeats and bass.

Abstrakt Sonance & Substance set the heater into overdrive and blunts aflame as we proceed into the shelling of 207's 'Gypsy Dub' - then promptly being crunched to bits by 'Crocodile' - encapsulating Dayzero's cold-blooded dance floor armaments. Brace yourself for battle as we step to the drums of Caspa's tribal warfare, full-frontal assault engineered for the club.

Unrestrained power surges propelling us onwards in Coltcut & Ourman's decidedly high-grade collaboration as listeners march through Khiva's haunting sound system belter 'Teeth' and a zealous dosage of Dubstep as envisioned by Truth. Led through eerie alleys and pressure-ridden environments with LSN on the buttons, the onslaught proceeds with the relentlessly driving 'R U Broke' in Mr. K's signature style.

Opus merciless injects straight fury in an auditory form in the spiked 'Lime Pickle' - Bukez Finezt keeping pace with a murderous Cembalo-ridden thug anthem, lunacy! Minimal instrumentation to its fullest effect, Sukh Knight's 'Modulate' keeps it spicy - as does the claustrophobic sub-bass chiming by Leftlow. Thanom ignites what's left of the residual air in 'Tumble It' - dangerous goods.

The subsequent time bomb armed by A:Grade & Feonix, cast into the abyss that is Nomine's space-bending 'Judas' - big speaker business. The clock strikes its final hour - Youngsta & Cimm finish off the survivors with a no-holds-barred showdown, the 'Last Judgement' executing its massive verdict.

On How It Ends (?), slinky melodies snake through nocturnal atmospherics, drawing you into a world built on poetic, painterly lyricism. Night Crickets, a long-distance groove affair that materialized during the drawn-out days of lockdown, has emerged once again to soundtrack our waking dreams.

David J (Bauhaus, Love & Rockets), Victor DeLorenzo (Violent Femmes) and multi-instrumentalist Darwin Meiners spearhead a loose collective of like-minded creative souls whom, through sheer tenacity and a burning desire to collaborate and create, transcend the restrictions of space and time. Audio files shared from Los Angeles to Milwaukee, from London to the San Francisco Bay, and the ghosts of Candlestick Park shimmer through the fog, coalescing in a glorious ‘gesamtkunstwerk’ that draws from the past, the present and the imagined future.

Declaring Bauhaus, Love And Rockets, and Violent Femmes iconic, foundational bands in the history of alternative music would receive little pushback from those in the know. San Francisco born artist Darwin Meiners is a fan of all three. A chance meeting with David J grew into a friendship, and Darwin not only became a bandmate, but his manager. After reaching out to Victor DeLorenzo through e-mail, Darwin met the Violent Femmes drummer after their set at Coachella. Soon, after the three collaborated on Darwin’s 2014 release Souvenir.

As the pandemic took hold, Darwin was looking for a new project to occupy the lock down time and approached Victor, who was keen to proceed and suggested that David join as well. The musical trust established between these three was immediate and Night Crickets were born. Within weeks a global process was initiated between them, the recordings eventually forming the album, A Free Society.

Following that release, inspired by how well – and quickly – they all worked together, the trio kept up their collaboration. “We are each free to discover musical connections that could only exist in an ideal creative setting” explains Victor. “We are very lucky to have three musicians who write, sing and play various instruments in one trio… our egos seem to melt into one when we face musical decisions, so our expeditions are always filled with pure discovery, humor and drive!”

How It Ends (?) was crafted with the same collaborative spirit as A Free Society. Each member contributed contributed unique elements to spur their collective creativity—whether a drum pattern, a lyrical concept, or a musical idea—and together, they expanded these initial sparks into the finished work. True to their approach, much of what you hear was captured in the first take, reflecting a genuine, unfiltered moment.

The music on the How It Ends (?) is a true evolution of the debut album. It is deeper and darker. Having said that, the dark tone is alleviated by a healthy measure of the buoyant, bouncy and melodic. “Much of the new material is very psychedelic and the contrast between this heavy, dark psychedelia and the more uplifting pop elements puts me in mind of The Beatles’ ‘Revolver’ album to some degree,” tells David J. “The recording process for the new album was exactly the same as the first in that we all recorded remotely, taking turns to share files and reacting spontaneously to the previous track, overdubbing then passing on once again until we all felt that the track was done.”

“While we didn’t start with a specific theme, the album emerged as a contemplative exploration of endings” says Darwin. “It touches on the loss of individuals, the shifting of ideas, and the fragility of systems. Beneath this sense of darkness and finality, however, there are threads of beauty and glimpses of hope. We invite you to immerse yourself in the album and experience the journey we’ve embarked upon.”

Strange Power!, the fifth record from Durham, NC-based songwriter and poet Anne Malin Ringwalt, emerges from the darkest waters of the self into a world remade. Releasing in conjunction with her second book of poetry, What Floods (Inside the Castle, Oct. 2024), Strange Power! overflows with Ringwalt's teeming and sensuous personal symbolry: glowing lilacs and gentle queens, dolphins wild and girls who grew up brave _ T.S. Eliot sung by Cat Power, backed by Mount Eerie. She sings: "I rose up from water." Ringwalt writes and performs with the authority of a lifetime spent harnessing the alchemy of storytelling; her belief in the power of words to heal and transform is palpable in each achingly- delivered lyric. Made amidst profound inner and outer change, Strange Power! also sees Ringwalt taking up the role of self-producer for the first time, mirroring and supporting the record's Orphic quest by gathering contributions from a coterie of friends wielding an electric range of American instruments. Violins, vibraphones, drum machines, electric guitars dappled with spring reverb, wind-blown shells, and a host of other numinous sounds form an unfurling and shadowy world which was then carefully honed during the mixing process (shepherded by Michael Cormier-O'Leary and Lucas Knapp) _ settling the final record in an eerie meridian between spareness and verdancy. The result is a beguiling and darkly blooming realm: the sound of a personal cosmos being remade, piece by piece. Ringwalt is at the height of her spirit as both songwriter-poet and singer, her willowy voice by turns conjuring and keening as she reckons with her deep past and the stories told since. Opening track "The Pines" sets the stage for a record of truly life-long scope: "I was a child, now I hold her / I was asleep for many years." Some songs, like the gorgeous "North Carolina" and "The Saint," were written as early as 2013 but, Ringwalt says, "insisted upon being remembered" as the record took shape; in its final form, they serve as inciting moments of self-discovery before the journey to come. "The Visionary" recalls one of Ringwalt's earliest musical breakthroughs _ her re-rendering of an Emily Brontë poem into a song at age 15 _ and, she says, "`cites' the melody of that song in the context of this new one _ a holding of the past and present and every layer in between/beyond, in utter solitude _ a solitude that reflects certain aspects of abandon as a child and an adult..." This unusually lengthy time-scale lends Strange Power! a deeply moving sense of narrative fullness. Stretches of the record _ particularly the "Judgment Day" ? "River" ? "Lilac Bloom" trifecta that form the black heart of Side 1 _ may recall familiar wanderings of personal underworlds such as Mount Eerie's Lost Wisdom Pt. 2 or Neil Young's Ditch Trilogy. Yet this hollowed landscape is in turn exorcized by the a capella "I Know," in which Ringwalt sings "I won't be gutted by you / For giving and trying to heal / I won't be gutted, I am not a fool / I deserve a love that is new" before the song concludes with a piano passage that recalls hymnal music _ suggesting a faith in life itself to offer new beginnings. Side 2 features some of Ringwalt's most powerfully introspective writing to date, as the songwriter casts off myth after myth in her search for personal transformation. By the final song, "Stories," the energy that has been gathering all throughout the record breaks loose as Ringwalt reflects: "I wrote so many stories, not knowing what the end was." But at this stage in the journey, we know there is no such thing as an ending; if the healing process is never complete, the storyteller's strange power is what finally offers liberation.

*Full colour artwork coming soon, this is a digitally generated mock-up. Comes in a risograph sleeve featuring liner notes and original Saturn artwork. *

Recorded at the Choreographers’ Workshop in New York, 1963, Waaghals Records presents two songs from Sun Ra’s Continuation sessions on vinyl for the first time. Known for its lo-fi recording quality coupled with heavy use of echo and reverberation, the material recorded at the Choreographers’ Workshop holds a special place within the Sun Ra catalogue. This unique blend of avant-garde jazz and bold production methods is described as “low-budget musique concrete” by Sun Ra biographer John F. Szwed.

Taken from the 1970 Saturn album Continuation, side a features the complete unedited version of New Planet. A bouncy Ra track that somehow ends up in a sound-bath of low, throbbing frequencies and echoes. The b side, Meteor Shower, remained unreleased until 2014, making its first official appearance on vinyl here. The opening trumpet salvo warms us up for a micro trip through the vast cosmos, with more echoed percussion and a beautifully bowed bass solo. It is no surprise that in recent years this particular piece has been sampled, most recently by RP BOO and Armand Hammer.

Tape transfers and audio restoration by Michael D. Anderson and Irwin Chusid of the Sun Ra Archive.

Caroline Says' haunting new album, The Lucky One, is a poignant exploration of how the ghosts of past relationships linger, sometimes holding more sway over our hearts and minds than our current connections. We revisit these ghosts through evocative landscapes of our memories - hometown bars, road trips, and late-night swims. Through a series of fractured and persistent memories these songs capture the bittersweet realization that the past, though imperfect, can sometimes be a more comforting and meaningful companion than the present. Opening track, "The Lucky One," confronts death's role in shaping our memories head-on, as it ponders the way death freezes a person in time, forcing us to confront the complexities of grief and its lasting impact on our relationship with the one we lost. Other tracks delve into the complexities of relationships that naturally grow apart as life takes us in different directions. For example, "Faded and Golden" reflects on the bittersweet nature of reunions with old friends, where the idealized memories of youth can clash with the realities of the present. Then, "Actors" takes this a step further, acknowledging the influence of perception and desire in friendships, and the idea that in many ways "all friendships are imaginary friendships," as it confronts the disappointment of inauthentic connections, and the facades we sometimes put on in relationships. "Roses" began when Caroline was looking through her grandma's collection of commemorative Kentucky Derby glasses, each one etched with the name of a winner. The song delves into the story of "Sunday Silence," the horse that won the year Caroline was born. Researching the horse's journey from near-Triple Crown glory to retirement in Japan sparked a metaphor - a pressured being (the horse) desperately trying to please but ultimately disappointing. The owners eventually selling the horse becomes a relatable symbol of unmet expectations, and the sting of falling short despite our best efforts. Album closer, "Something Good," revisits Caroline's Alabama childhood. Lost on a recent trip to Birmingham, unable to find the familiar path to a riverside hangout, the experience becomes a powerful metaphor; we can't always retrace the paths in our memories, but those memories, however unreliable, continue to shape us. In the end, The Lucky One celebrates this enduring power, acknowledging how past relationships and experiences, even those lost to the haze of time, continue to inform the stories we tell ourselves, and the way we navigate the present.

The Concealed Club Manifesto project pays homage to the mid 2000s underground UK club music scene, an era of music which acts as well of inspiration and creativity for the Nouveau Monica, and has no doubt helped shaped his sound. For the French producer, the UK club scene holds a special allure and mystique, especially since he observed this phenomenon from afar, and was idealized as one of the most “pivotal” moments in underground club culture, making it seem intangible, hence concealed. Nouveau Monica’s sound palette is deeply rooted in the UK scene, which he combines with his own personal musical background. This mid 2000s UK club sound is what the producer defines as his “Golden Era” and the genres created during that time are the building blocks of the Concealed Club Manifesto EP.

“See the Light” closes the EP as a triptyque. First with the OG version, cut out to be the straightforward, grimy, clean, and uncluttered bass track the producer always seeks for when going for the uncompromisingly strong raw material.

The second version conducted by Nouveau Monica as an alternate 4/4 version of the same title, harmonizes the repetitive chopped vocals with a technically syncopated drum loop designed for a new mental perspective, an after-hours sensation that blurs the line between euphoria and melancholy.

The last iteration of “See The Light” comes from none other than Hodge himself. A club tailored cut with a heavy groove, pattered with percussive elements, followed by sun drenched melody and sweltering pads that unleash into a a bellowing bass track, perfectly suited for peak sunset hours at a day rave an unforgiving Soundsystem.

A/B Side Effect, Black & Gold, limited to 200 copies. More than 4 years after "Sculpture Of Violence," GIVER from Cologne, Germany, announce their third album "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation" for September 20, 2024, on End Hits Records. In recent years, GIVER have not only refined their hardcore sound to be more brutal and atmospheric with elements of metal and post-punk, but thematically, it's clear that their new album serves as an even more drastic political manifesto. Capitalism, culture wars, the climate crisis, and their societal implications and consequences are central themes on "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation." GIVER critique the prevailing neoliberalism and its ongoing agitation for the uncompromising pursuit of happiness and satisfaction. The band explains: "What neoliberalism has established is a lonely place. Its driving force is the individualized pursuit of constant fulfillment, altering the way we interact with each other. Whatever we do to achieve satisfaction, there's always a lingering sense of something missing. Happiness and contentment are never the goal; they've been replaced by profit margins and excess. These are endless and extremely unevenly distributed. Anger arises in this vacuum. With this album, we want to remind that it's the economic conditions and inequalities that should be the target of our collective frustration. They create depression, despair, and a downward spiral. Being anti-fascists is not enough; we must also be anti-capitalists." This anger is also reflected musically in the furious 11 new tracks. Filled with powerful guitar riffs and sometimes bilingual lyrics, some of the songs also introduce a new, deep style of spoken word for GIVER, making the eventual eruptions that much more impactful. With the release of their third album, GIVER venture into fresh and melodic territory, integrating elements of post-punk, black metal, and hardcore into a sound that sits somewhere between bands like Oathbreaker, Converge, or Chelsea Wolfe. Although "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation" builds on a foundation of biting, powerful metal, it also incorporates dark vocal lines that could be found on a Fontaines D.C. or IDLES record. "The Future Holds Nothing But Confrontation" was produced by Lewis Johns (Rolo Tomassi, Employed To Serve, Funeral For A Friend).

Ever-evolving the mythologies and magic of Dialect's sonic sphere, Andrew PM Hunt returns with Atlas of Green, elegantly molding unexacting details of memory and mistranslation into the framework of the British musician and composer's creative pursuit. The album imagines a young musician named Green working in a future dawning era where lost signals and enduring impulses are unearthed from the sediments of technology and time. Across twelve compositions, Green becomes the compass in an epoch of transition; one shaded with pastoral patinas and studded with the fragments of allegorical ruin. As tattered as it is tender, Atlas of Green is a patchwork of scavenged relics and bygone hues, cast through the iridescent shimmers of a mid-future in flux. Growing up on the Wirral Peninsula in North West England, Hunt was surrounded by stone age landmarks and rock carvings that infused the landscape with legend. It was beside those carvings on a residency at Bidston Artistic Research Center where he began the journey of Atlas of Green, experimenting with tape loops and exploring the center's library of sci-fi. Here Hunt also encountered the work of Italian philosopher Federico Campagna, a writer who believes we're at the end of our current world. This encouraged Hunt's exploration of how the fabric and fantasies of our current era might endure into the future of Green, as they try to make sense of the riddles of the past, utilizing broken electronics and simple acoustic instruments to create new mythic forms. This question of endurance led Hunt to inscribe Atlas of Green with its own lucid markings - sometimes almost anthemic adornments - which unfurl through the album's melancholic air as possible new metaphors for how the human spirit might persist through dark days and regain lost wisdom. As Hunt reflects, "We're not just on an endless procession through constantly better worlds. Our lack of action (on climate and inequality) feels hopeless at times. I find some comfort in the idea that maybe the world needs a new song in order to tell a new story about itself". The image of Green as a journeying adolescent in-between eras developed out of a burgeoning interest in the fantasy writing of Ursula K. Le Guin and Gene Wolfe and occurred at a point in Hunt's life where the question of starting a family was looming. Green became a device for thinking about the future, or futures, putting someone in another world and granting access to a slightly longer timeframe than one's own life. What would this person, in this as-yet-unsung world do with something as powerful as music? As Hunt notes, "I imagined them doing what we've always done with music - using it to build a map of feeling, providing boundaries and tracing the edges of our emotions, defining a space of possibility and giving voice to our intuition. This is an alternative future to the one of endless growth but one which still holds space for hopes and dreams." Mapping new folds in the passage of time, Atlas of Green is traced with an aura of sonic urgency which arises through its process-led construction. Following a series of live shows in early 2023, the record was created with an assemblage of analogue electronics and acoustic instruments, including scratched records and a broken four track, collaging studio work with recorded live recordings featuring work in progress. Where the indeterminate energies of Under~Between (2021) appeared through digital processing, Atlas of Green embraces chance encounters within the malfunctions of physical media and glitching gear. Within these interwoven clusters of organic and blemished sound, Dialect reclaims the joyfulness of the inner amateur and creates a soft landing for new seeds of magical possibility - rooted in the bounds and abundance of realism. "As a planet of people we have to deal one way or another with our finite existence. We have to deal with that loss with hope still in our hearts - our capacity to love cannot be contingent on things lasting forever, and so this image of Green is not a vision of dystopia, nor utopia but an expression of trust and an acceptance of limits."

Mermaid Chunky. It's all in a name, sometimes. The danceable, costumed, curiosity rich duo of artists Freya Tate and Moina Moin are as imaginative as they profess. Or, to get more to the point, as we all need them to be. Freya and Moina are two visual artists and musicians from Stroud and South London, places where they importantly found communities (Stroud's SVA and the capital's Total Refreshment Centre) of like minded people just as willing to chase down an idea to its possibly illogical conclusion. And it is in the collective and the idea of participation that Mermaid Chunky really clicks. This is a party, a collective dance, made all the better with more: people, ideas, layers, kick drums, recorders, saxophones, frogs. To wit, the album's first track and first single, "Céilí," named after a traditional Scottish or Irish social gathering and dance, which builds from a simple recorder line into a swelling, warm burst of major chord dance music. Goosebumps or check your pulse. Further down the rabbit hole, "Chaperone" is almost boardwalk electro, like Fischerspooner on a ferris wheel; "Frogsporn" and "Nature Girl" are mucky, trippy dirges filled with stalactites of synth and squelch; "Tiny Gymnast" is a kaleidoscopic waltz into the night. Hold onto your seats, ladies and gentlemen. You might be wondering how we, DFA Records, all the way over in cynical Brooklyn, entered the picture. There was a day a few years ago, sun shining in full Springtime splendor, when James heard something while waiting for a coffee down the street from the office. It sounded simple yet deceptively complex: a dance track, but one where the one - that anchoring first beat in a measure - could be heard a thousand different ways. Frustrated and interested, he Shazamd the song, playing at the shop from an episode of Zakia's Questing show on NTS, and brought it back to the office, where we all listened to it about fifty times. (The song was "Friends," from Mermaid Chunky's VEST EP, released in 2020. It led to an invitation to open for LCD at Brixton Academy in 2022. Mermaid Chunky has also played live alongside The Comet Is Coming, Alabastair Deplume, Snapped Ankles, and many others.) Thus began our search for Mermaid Chunky. A quest it has been and a quest it will always be.

Endeckt die Electronic Music Anthology Collection neu. Diesmal dem TipHop gewidment. Echte Perlen, liebevoll ausgewählt vom französischen privaten Rundfunksender FG, gesammelt auf 2 Vinyl.

WE ARE WINTER'S BLUE AND RADIANT CHILDREN (WAWBARC) is the new quartet of Mat Ball (BIG|BRAVE), Efrim Manuel Menuck (Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Thee Silver Mt. Zion), and Jonathan Downs and Patch (both Ada). On "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" they present six modal lullabies drenched in seared distortion, slathered across striding electronic pulses. Ball and Menuck began creating music in and for the bleakest moments of Montréal winters: "We're honoring that idea of winter, when you come inside and your house is warm, a place that only exists because of how cold it is outside," says Menuck. They later recruited Downs and Patch to flesh out their initial ideas. Menuck met them in 2015 when recording Ada's final album at Montréal's Hotel2Tango _ where they reconvened to make this record. "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" is an album about witnessing bleakness from a place of safety. Carrying newfound descriptive depth, thanks to the quartet's open-ended songs freeing him from writing in meter, Menuck likens his lyrics to photorealism. On opener `Rats and Roses' he sings of an unnamed city struck by an unknown cataclysm, but the details are local: specifically, his neighbors inadvertently poisoning birds when tackling a rat infestation. It's backed by blown out synths and guitars reaching a soaring crescendo. "Seeing things from a distance and not being able to intervene happens a lot on the record," Menuck explains. "If you're a feeling and thinking person, that's just part of the human condition. We watch horror unfolding from afar, unable to do anything concrete to change it." A powerless witness, able to describe but not intervene. `Dangling Blanket From A Balcony (White Phosphorous)' references Michael Jackson holding his child over a hotel balcony in 2002_the bizarre media spectacle still lodged in Menuck's psyche. This and the album's closing track also elegize white phosphorous, a technology of war designed to light up battlefields but capable of inflicting horrific burns on those it touches. Illumination and horror in one, here underpinning scenes picturesque and terrifying. "The last song `(Goodnight) White Phosphorous' is deliberately like a lullaby," says Menuck. "Written from the viewpoint of watching white phosphorous falling outside your window." Scorched and tarnished and laden with harrowing imagery, "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" is also a record bathed in light: the bewilderment of hopeful spirits witnessing despair, watching a blizzard of distress unfold outside from a place of relative shelter and comfort. You could call that emotional ambivalence, maybe numbness. But those words are too passive for the weight of conflicted feeling resonating through the album. "I never know how I feel on an overcast day when the sun is still bright despite the grayness and the light is very flat. The colours become more saturated, and you see a single flower, say a morning glory, whose colour is so vibrant beneath the gray, I don't know if that's a lovely sensation or a terrible sensation. It's both," says Menuck.