Search:home free

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Spy from Cairo (aka Moreno "Zeb" Visini) returns with his 5th studio album on Wonderwheel Recordings: "Animamundi" features some special collaborations from his travels & live shows from over the past few years. The album reflects the move from his home in NYC to his mother's home in a quiet village in Italy to take care of her in her older age. It's been a difficult transition with Italy's challenging experience with the pandemic, including some of the strictest measures enforced on the public. He recalls by stating "This album was conceived between 2020 and 2021 in Italy, between lockdowns, restrictions, and various pandemic mandates. Its message is of hope and positivity - a reminder that we are all spiritual beings… Free spiritual beings… and that freedom can't be broken."

"Animamundi" is a reconfirmation that The Spy from Cairo overcomes all obstacles & delivers a diverse progression of his iconic "Arabadub" sound, with the help of collaborators like Andalucian vocalist Carmen Estevez, Mexican vocalist Mambe Rodriguez on the heavy hitting "Criminal," Egyptian vocalist Adii Small on "Beautiful Baraka," and former touring band member, the multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Fatima Gozlan from Hungary. The music can vary from heavy deep electronic synths and live eastern instrumentation with Zeb playing oud, saz, chiftelli, bass, percussion, and other instruments, all along giving it his signature dub mixing style.

The songs take inspiration from a wide range of musical traditions and cultures, including Turkish (on "Cosmic Pasha," "Qanun in Dub" – using the qanun, an instrument popular across the Middle East, with a sound between the European harp and a dulcimer – and "Black Sea," which utilises a typical Dabke melody), Egyptian ("Mizmirized," sampling riffs from a mizmar), Indian ("Seeds of Culture), and Sufi ("Divination," a devotional composition), fusing these reference points with healthy doses of cumbia, funk, reggae, psychedelic, and dub. Thematically, "Animamundi" deals with some of the struggles Zeb – and all of us – have faced the last two years, through the lens of his personal experiences. Yet, the tone of the record manages to remain positive, like an uplifting dance through the world's sounds; after all, "Animamundi" means "soul of the world" in Greek. With album art by Sam Angeli and layout design by Marcial Arts, this beautiful album is a truly well-rounded worldwide collaboration.

"Animamundi" will be released digitally on March 4th, 2022, with the LP to follow shortly after.

Mondo, in partnership with Back Lot Music Wright, are proud to present the premiere physical release of Steven Price's electrifying score to LAST NIGHT IN SOHO, the latest film by Edgar Wright.

Edgar Wright wanted a score to soundtrack the two eras of Last Night in Soho and tie together the stories of these two very different young women. To achieve this, Wright turned once again to his now-regular composer, Academy Award® winner Steven Price, who successfully scored both Baby Driver and The World’s End.

While Price’s influences for the score included contemporary film music by the likes of Ennio Morricone and John Barry, a “’60s session band” sound with echoing fragments of dialogue add a different and sometimes subliminally sinister edge to the score. The sounds of ‘60s Soho blend into the present-day London scenes as Eloise is sucked further into the past. “The idea is that Sandie’s voice becomes part of the film, so you hear her siren song from the ‘60s coming through, and Anya became an intrinsic part of it… I was pleased that the lead actress is also the lead singer in the film score; the whole thing knitted together.”

The album also features songs performed by Anya Taylor-Joy, including the lead single from the film "Downtown (Downtempo Version)"

Peer through the windows of the sun-dappled homes in Sicily and you will be faced with a small, strange ceramic object adorning each hallway. It is a glistening pine cone standing upright – a pigna – the longstanding symbol of Sicilian openness and welcome hospitality.

The pigna is a delightfully unusual and yet apt symbol for the title of the third record from Benjamin Harris, AKA Yarni. Ever since his debut LP release in 2017, Yarni has established a following committed to his musical openness, an intuitive curiosity that has spanned everything from house and techno to cinematic ambience and Japanese percussion, as well as jazz horns and afrobeat fanfares. For Yarni, anything goes and everyone is welcome. Now, Pigna sees Yarni reach his fullest and most musically diverse expression, taking its name and ethos from Sicily, but finding a sonic home in the luscious orchestration of a new ensemble of musicians.

Here, at the helm of a nine-person ensemble, Yarni artfully pieces together live improvisations to create the warmth of a seasoned group performing deep within the groove. Opener “Midnight Getaway” places the listener squarely within the disco-funk of Daft Punk as Yarni’s top-line synth intersects with a rolling bassline and a lyrical flute solo from Rachel Shirley. This optimistic tone of sunlit spaciousness is then heightened on “Utopia”, as Yarni’s horn section comes to the fore to pay homage to the ineffable syncopations of Fela Kuti’s pioneering afrobeat.

Rather than scratch at the surface of these musical genres, Yarni’s attuned ear embodies the emotive essence of his various sounds by paying intimate attention to their creation. There is the punch of that afrobeat sax on “Utopia”; the rhythmic skitter of breakbeats on “The Astral”; the sludging thump of funk in the bassline on “Nova”. Collaborators are given free reign, too, to incorporate their own unique stylings into this remarkable whole, from vocalist Emily Marks’ languid tone on “In A Dream”, to saxophonist Jonoa’s innate swing on “Cherub”, and the metronomic movement of bassist Ally McMahon’s playing throughout.

Listening to Pigna is ultimately to find yourself squarely within the comforting embrace of Yarni’s musical mind. It is a truly LP experience – a record to be placed on the turntable’s platter and then left to play, allowing yourself an immersion in these journeying soundscapes. It is no wonder fellow sonic travellers such as the late Andrew Weatherall and DJ Harvey have been supporters of Yarni’s work, since here is a kindred spirit – an artist shaped in the form of radical openness, speaking the hospitable, universal language of beautiful music.

Peer through the windows of the sun-dappled homes in Sicily and you will be faced with a small, strange ceramic object adorning each hallway. It is a glistening pine cone standing upright – a pigna – the longstanding symbol of Sicilian openness and welcome hospitality.

The pigna is a delightfully unusual and yet apt symbol for the title of the third record from Benjamin Harris, AKA Yarni. Ever since his debut LP release in 2017, Yarni has established a following committed to his musical openness, an intuitive curiosity that has spanned everything from house and techno to cinematic ambience and Japanese percussion, as well as jazz horns and afrobeat fanfares. For Yarni, anything goes and everyone is welcome. Now, Pigna sees Yarni reach his fullest and most musically diverse expression, taking its name and ethos from Sicily, but finding a sonic home in the luscious orchestration of a new ensemble of musicians.

Here, at the helm of a nine-person ensemble, Yarni artfully pieces together live improvisations to create the warmth of a seasoned group performing deep within the groove. Opener “Midnight Getaway” places the listener squarely within the disco-funk of Daft Punk as Yarni’s top-line synth intersects with a rolling bassline and a lyrical flute solo from Rachel Shirley. This optimistic tone of sunlit spaciousness is then heightened on “Utopia”, as Yarni’s horn section comes to the fore to pay homage to the ineffable syncopations of Fela Kuti’s pioneering afrobeat.

Rather than scratch at the surface of these musical genres, Yarni’s attuned ear embodies the emotive essence of his various sounds by paying intimate attention to their creation. There is the punch of that afrobeat sax on “Utopia”; the rhythmic skitter of breakbeats on “The Astral”; the sludging thump of funk in the bassline on “Nova”. Collaborators are given free reign, too, to incorporate their own unique stylings into this remarkable whole, from vocalist Emily Marks’ languid tone on “In A Dream”, to saxophonist Jonoa’s innate swing on “Cherub”, and the metronomic movement of bassist Ally McMahon’s playing throughout.

Listening to Pigna is ultimately to find yourself squarely within the comforting embrace of Yarni’s musical mind. It is a truly LP experience – a record to be placed on the turntable’s platter and then left to play, allowing yourself an immersion in these journeying soundscapes. It is no wonder fellow sonic travellers such as the late Andrew Weatherall and DJ Harvey have been supporters of Yarni’s work, since here is a kindred spirit – an artist shaped in the form of radical openness, speaking the hospitable, universal language of beautiful music.

The Library Steps is a new pairing of an old rapper named Jesse
Dangerously and a young producer named Ambition
The duo is named in remembrance of the now demolished stone stairs of the
Halifax Memorial Library entrance, where among a loose and ragtag assortment
of the city's rappers they would gather across generations every Friday as the
doors locked, to freestyle, beatbox, and play tapes in a cipher called Public Rhyme
Distribution. Jesse and Ambition have been members of the Canada- wide
collective Backburner since 2001 and 2009 respectively, but only started making
songs as a rapper/producer duo in the spring of 2017. It took them more than a
decade of intention to pair off as a team. All of the beats and rhymes for Rap Dad,
Real Dad were created in the next few months as a time capsule of that season's
preoccupations. The beats are jazzy, soulful, and moody, with a prominent nod
factor, and the rhymes are confessional and witty, vulnerable and boastful,
intimate and intimidating. Under their fingernails, no microscope is needed to
detect the DNA of golden era rapper/producer teams like Pete Rock & CL Smooth,
Gang Starr, a gentler Beatnuts, or any group that was part of Native Tongues or
Hieroglyphics. Just as present are the influences of turn- of- the- century
underground boundary pushers like Sage Francis, Aesop Rock, MF DOOM, and
Buck 65, and for that matter, just about everyone who was on Roc-A-Fella at its
peak. Refracted here, those chosen ancestors and more recombinate into a hiphop that challenges, from unexpected angles, traditional modes and narratives of
masculinity. They are your rap dads, and they just may be your real dads, too.














[n] B6 . [A,Z]A+[A,,Z]B+

A thin patch of fog has comfortably placed itself in the middle of the valley. Sleepy oaks and pines encircled the small valley, giving it a protection from an unwanted eye. 3 women danced freely in-between open flames. It seemed like the fog did not mind this and only embraced their bodies in a mutual dance. Every move, every sway and every step igniting the flames brighter and brighter. Nobody would ever know though, as the trees still stood guard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thrown is a producer from the North of Czech Republic, who already made his first appearance on Moving Pictures’ V/A compilation in 2020. This time we are happy to welcome him back with his own vinyl EP titled “Between Two Flames”. Liberec based producer delivers a three-tracker tale, complemented with a fourth track - a remix by label’s own duo Aerial. Nostalgic, melancholic, happy, hypnotic? This is for you to feel and decide.

"Big Time" entstand mit einem Peitschenhieb in den seltenen, fruchtbaren Momenten, in denen sowohl frische Trauer als auch frische Liebe gleichzeitig auftreten, in denen sich Kummer und Verliebtheit gegenseitig verstärken, verkomplizieren und erklären. Verlust ist schon immer ein Thema in Olsens Songs gewesen, aber nur wenige können Elegien mit einer derart rücksichtslosen Energie schreiben, wie sie. Wenn diese aus allen Nähten platzende, bergab rasende Energie für ihre Arbeit unüberwindbar schien, beweist "Big Time", dass Olsen jetzt von einem verwurzelteren Ort der Klarheit aus schreibt. Dabei arbeitet sie mit einer elastischen Beherrschung ihrer Stimme - sowohl klanglich als auch künstlerisch. In diesen Liedern geht es nicht nur um die Transformation von Trauer, sondern auch darum, Freiheit und Freude in den Entbehrungen zu finden, die diese mit sich bringen. "Big Time" ist ein Album über die expansive Kraft der neuen Liebe, geschrieben in der Zeit, als Angel Olsen sich als queer outete und ihre ersten Erfahrungen mit queerer Liebe und Herzschmerz machte. Aber dieser Glanz und Optimismus wird durch ein tiefes und vielschichtiges Gefühl von Verlust gemildert. Während Olsens Prozess der Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Queer-Sein und der Konfrontation mit den Traumata, die sie davon abgehalten hatten, sich selbst voll und ganz zu akzeptieren, fühlte sie, dass es an der Zeit war, sich ihren Eltern gegenüber zu outen - eine Hürde, die sie eine Zeit lang vermieden hatte. "Some experiences just make you feel as though you're five years old, no matter how wise or adult you think you are", schreibt sie über diese Zeit. Nach diesem tränenreichen, aber erleichternden Gespräch feierte sie mit ihrem/ihrer Partner*in, ihren Freund*innen, mit Austern und Wein. "Finally, at the ripe age of 34, I was free to be me." Drei Tage später starb ihr Vater, dessen Beerdigung Olsen zum Anlass nahm, den/die Partner*in ihrer Familie vorzustellen. Nur zwei Wochen später erhielt Olsen den Anruf, dass ihre Mutter in der Notaufnahme lag. Eine Zeit im Hospiz kam bald darauf, und eine zweite Beerdigung folgte kurz nach der ersten. Eine weitere Reise zurück nach St. Louis, eine weitere Trauerbewältigung, eine weitere Vertiefung und Intensivierung dieser noch jungen Liebe. Drei Wochen nach der Beerdigung ihrer Mutter war Olsen im Studio, um dieses unglaublich weise und zärtliche neue Album "Big Time" aufzunehmen. Ausgelassene Anspielungen an Tammy Wynette und Kitty Wells tauchen auf "Big Time" ebenso auf wie die komplexen Orchestrationen ihres genreübergreifenden 2019er Albums "All Mirrors". Während jenes Album voller dramatischer Veränderungen und Wendungen war, liegen die Überraschungen hier in ihrer Einfachheit - ein langsames Anschwellen der Streicher, eine Instrumentierung, die wie ein Sturm zyklisch ist, oder funkelnde Hörner in einer lichtdurchfluteten Break-up-Ballade, während kaum ein Synthesizer in Sicht ist. "Big Time" wurde zusammen mit dem Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson in seinen Fivestar Studios in Topanga, Kalifornien, aufgenommen und gemischt. Drew Erickson spielte Klavier, Orgel und kümmerte sich um die Streicherarrangements. Olsens langjährige Bandkollegin Emily Elhaj spielte durchgehend den Bass.

"Big Time" entstand mit einem Peitschenhieb in den seltenen, fruchtbaren Momenten, in denen sowohl frische Trauer als auch frische Liebe gleichzeitig auftreten, in denen sich Kummer und Verliebtheit gegenseitig verstärken, verkomplizieren und erklären. Verlust ist schon immer ein Thema in Olsens Songs gewesen, aber nur wenige können Elegien mit einer derart rücksichtslosen Energie schreiben, wie sie. Wenn diese aus allen Nähten platzende, bergab rasende Energie für ihre Arbeit unüberwindbar schien, beweist "Big Time", dass Olsen jetzt von einem verwurzelteren Ort der Klarheit aus schreibt. Dabei arbeitet sie mit einer elastischen Beherrschung ihrer Stimme - sowohl klanglich als auch künstlerisch. In diesen Liedern geht es nicht nur um die Transformation von Trauer, sondern auch darum, Freiheit und Freude in den Entbehrungen zu finden, die diese mit sich bringen. "Big Time" ist ein Album über die expansive Kraft der neuen Liebe, geschrieben in der Zeit, als Angel Olsen sich als queer outete und ihre ersten Erfahrungen mit queerer Liebe und Herzschmerz machte. Aber dieser Glanz und Optimismus wird durch ein tiefes und vielschichtiges Gefühl von Verlust gemildert. Während Olsens Prozess der Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Queer-Sein und der Konfrontation mit den Traumata, die sie davon abgehalten hatten, sich selbst voll und ganz zu akzeptieren, fühlte sie, dass es an der Zeit war, sich ihren Eltern gegenüber zu outen - eine Hürde, die sie eine Zeit lang vermieden hatte. "Some experiences just make you feel as though you're five years old, no matter how wise or adult you think you are", schreibt sie über diese Zeit. Nach diesem tränenreichen, aber erleichternden Gespräch feierte sie mit ihrem/ihrer Partner*in, ihren Freund*innen, mit Austern und Wein. "Finally, at the ripe age of 34, I was free to be me." Drei Tage später starb ihr Vater, dessen Beerdigung Olsen zum Anlass nahm, den/die Partner*in ihrer Familie vorzustellen. Nur zwei Wochen später erhielt Olsen den Anruf, dass ihre Mutter in der Notaufnahme lag. Eine Zeit im Hospiz kam bald darauf, und eine zweite Beerdigung folgte kurz nach der ersten. Eine weitere Reise zurück nach St. Louis, eine weitere Trauerbewältigung, eine weitere Vertiefung und Intensivierung dieser noch jungen Liebe. Drei Wochen nach der Beerdigung ihrer Mutter war Olsen im Studio, um dieses unglaublich weise und zärtliche neue Album "Big Time" aufzunehmen. Ausgelassene Anspielungen an Tammy Wynette und Kitty Wells tauchen auf "Big Time" ebenso auf wie die komplexen Orchestrationen ihres genreübergreifenden 2019er Albums "All Mirrors". Während jenes Album voller dramatischer Veränderungen und Wendungen war, liegen die Überraschungen hier in ihrer Einfachheit - ein langsames Anschwellen der Streicher, eine Instrumentierung, die wie ein Sturm zyklisch ist, oder funkelnde Hörner in einer lichtdurchfluteten Break-up-Ballade, während kaum ein Synthesizer in Sicht ist. "Big Time" wurde zusammen mit dem Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson in seinen Fivestar Studios in Topanga, Kalifornien, aufgenommen und gemischt. Drew Erickson spielte Klavier, Orgel und kümmerte sich um die Streicherarrangements. Olsens langjährige Bandkollegin Emily Elhaj spielte durchgehend den Bass.

"Big Time" entstand mit einem Peitschenhieb in den seltenen, fruchtbaren Momenten, in denen sowohl frische Trauer als auch frische Liebe gleichzeitig auftreten, in denen sich Kummer und Verliebtheit gegenseitig verstärken, verkomplizieren und erklären. Verlust ist schon immer ein Thema in Olsens Songs gewesen, aber nur wenige können Elegien mit einer derart rücksichtslosen Energie schreiben, wie sie. Wenn diese aus allen Nähten platzende, bergab rasende Energie für ihre Arbeit unüberwindbar schien, beweist "Big Time", dass Olsen jetzt von einem verwurzelteren Ort der Klarheit aus schreibt. Dabei arbeitet sie mit einer elastischen Beherrschung ihrer Stimme - sowohl klanglich als auch künstlerisch. In diesen Liedern geht es nicht nur um die Transformation von Trauer, sondern auch darum, Freiheit und Freude in den Entbehrungen zu finden, die diese mit sich bringen. "Big Time" ist ein Album über die expansive Kraft der neuen Liebe, geschrieben in der Zeit, als Angel Olsen sich als queer outete und ihre ersten Erfahrungen mit queerer Liebe und Herzschmerz machte. Aber dieser Glanz und Optimismus wird durch ein tiefes und vielschichtiges Gefühl von Verlust gemildert. Während Olsens Prozess der Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Queer-Sein und der Konfrontation mit den Traumata, die sie davon abgehalten hatten, sich selbst voll und ganz zu akzeptieren, fühlte sie, dass es an der Zeit war, sich ihren Eltern gegenüber zu outen - eine Hürde, die sie eine Zeit lang vermieden hatte. "Some experiences just make you feel as though you're five years old, no matter how wise or adult you think you are", schreibt sie über diese Zeit. Nach diesem tränenreichen, aber erleichternden Gespräch feierte sie mit ihrem/ihrer Partner*in, ihren Freund*innen, mit Austern und Wein. "Finally, at the ripe age of 34, I was free to be me." Drei Tage später starb ihr Vater, dessen Beerdigung Olsen zum Anlass nahm, den/die Partner*in ihrer Familie vorzustellen. Nur zwei Wochen später erhielt Olsen den Anruf, dass ihre Mutter in der Notaufnahme lag. Eine Zeit im Hospiz kam bald darauf, und eine zweite Beerdigung folgte kurz nach der ersten. Eine weitere Reise zurück nach St. Louis, eine weitere Trauerbewältigung, eine weitere Vertiefung und Intensivierung dieser noch jungen Liebe. Drei Wochen nach der Beerdigung ihrer Mutter war Olsen im Studio, um dieses unglaublich weise und zärtliche neue Album "Big Time" aufzunehmen. Ausgelassene Anspielungen an Tammy Wynette und Kitty Wells tauchen auf "Big Time" ebenso auf wie die komplexen Orchestrationen ihres genreübergreifenden 2019er Albums "All Mirrors". Während jenes Album voller dramatischer Veränderungen und Wendungen war, liegen die Überraschungen hier in ihrer Einfachheit - ein langsames Anschwellen der Streicher, eine Instrumentierung, die wie ein Sturm zyklisch ist, oder funkelnde Hörner in einer lichtdurchfluteten Break-up-Ballade, während kaum ein Synthesizer in Sicht ist. "Big Time" wurde zusammen mit dem Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson in seinen Fivestar Studios in Topanga, Kalifornien, aufgenommen und gemischt. Drew Erickson spielte Klavier, Orgel und kümmerte sich um die Streicherarrangements. Olsens langjährige Bandkollegin Emily Elhaj spielte durchgehend den Bass.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

Federico Albanese is a composer born in Milan, Italy in 1982, and currently based in Berlin. His musical versatility is a natural gift that pushes him to explore music in all its facets. Albanese's compositions are airy and cinematic, blending classical music, electronics and psychedelia. Federico started studying piano and clarinet as a child before becoming fascinated by rock music. As a teenager he studied bass and became a self-taught guitarist and soon became one of the leading figures of Milan's underground scene, performing in several bands. Influenced by black music, folk, electronic, modern and contemporary classical music his skills as a composer soon emerged, He worked for 5 years as prop man in several film sets. This experience made him understand the power of the connection between music and images and helped him to develop his personal musical path. In 2007 Albanese met singer and songwriter Jessica Einaudi and together they founded the avant-garde duo ""La Blanche Alchimie"". Composing songs with Jessica he rediscovered his love for the piano, which from that moment on, became his main instrument. Since then Federico has scored several films, short films and documentaries, including a documentary on a project commissioned by Ermenegildo Zegna in the National Museum of XXI Century Arts in Rome. In February 2014, Federico Albanese will release his debut album entitled ""The Houseboat and the Moon"". He found a place, an imaginary place, where, whenever he wanted to, he could jump on and just float away. On this moving shelter, traveling across memories and imagination, lulled by water and led by the moon, Federico wrote the 13 compositions of his debut. He recorded all of the piano parts with a 1969 German tape recorder, the Uher Royal Deluxe, which allowed him to catch all of the tiny hidden shades, the imperfections, the noises of the piano and its surrounding space. Federico melts this rarefied sound with electronics, live recordings, strings, and homemade instruments. The result is a combination of contrasts and colors with a variety of atmospheres that wonderfully represents Federico's musical universe. Vinyl: thick gatefold covers, 180g vinyl,free download.

Lowest Form of Animal — Kublai Khan TX

Texas metalcore band Kublai Khan TX recently released the new song "Resentment," and now they've announced a new EP, Lowest Form of Animal, featuring that song and four others. Along with the announcement comes new single "Swan Song," which features guest vocals from Terror (and Buried Alive and World Be Free) frontman Scott Vogel.
"'Swan Song' re-tells many of life's harshest realities — both from afar and close to home," says vocalist Matthew Honeycutt. "Seeing the mental and physical damage of the sex trade in every corner and pocket of the USA — most remaining nameless and unsung. For what it's worth, we seek to share a single story: To reflect the thousands of lives lost in the unforgiving system that operates, unrelentingly, day and night."

Recorded back in 1999, 'Half a Dove in New York, Half a Dove in Buenos Aires' is the recorded debut of a NetCast improv between deep listening pioneer Pauline Oliveros and Argentinian free music trio Reynols >> a fascinating early example of the internet’s capacity to foster remote creativity in-the-moment that deploys the slowest electronics, accordion, voice, trombone and computer sounds on a next level ritual drone incantation recorded in another era, but made for our time.

As the story goes, Oliveros first met Reynols in the mid ‘90s at a Deep Listening workshop she held in their home city, Buenos Aires, where they impressed her with an improvised brass serenade. Years later, in 1999, they met again via NetCast - a series of very early online live improvisations - to explore the Internet’s potential for collaborations between artists thousands of miles apart. Finally mixed down in 2021 and mastered by Helge Sten (aka Deathprod) after marinating in the archive for 22 years, the album resonates with the late, great Oliveros’ legendary work in exploring alternate tunings, spatial dynamics and methods of intuitive performance - a remarkable slab of omnidirectional drone bearing traces of Miguel Tomasin's vox and Oliveros’ just-intoned accordion embedded in its cosmic roil.

Broadcasting from fabled record shop The Thing in NYC, with Oliveros (Accordion) joined by Jennifer McCoy (ICR), Kevin McCoy (Computer processing), and Monique Buzzarté (Trombone), and Reynols revolving Miguel Tomasin (Electronics, subliminal voice & Alclorse drums), Rob Conlazo electronics, leather gloves & e-gtr), and Anla Courtis (electronics, rubber foot & e-gtr) and dialling-in from Florida 943 in Buenos Aires, the results are an incredibly absorbing and consistently surprising testament to vanguard, experimental spirits prizing the internet’s nascent, unprecedented ability to connect minds and art across continents, language barriers, and modalities.

The album's first side, titled 'Micro Macro Wind Dance', puts Oliveros' accordion under a microscope, enhancing it with lower case rumble and noise from Reynolds' arsenal. Shifting glacially over 22-minutes, Oliveros plays subtly and slowly at first, letting the accordion breathe in-and-out like a sleeping mythical beast, before she transitions to fluttering bird-like phrases by the end of the side.

'Astral Netcast Pigeon' expands the dissonant drones to widescreen, submerging Oliveros' trills and drones beneath layers of dirt and grit. It's time-altering music that dissasembles yr head before you've completely worked out what's happening >> basically the perfect mid-point between Oliveros' deep listening practices and Reynols' wildly inspirational free-noise-drone freakouts.

"Sun Salt & Air," is Mellow Drunk band leader Leigh Gregory's latest fulllength solo record released on limited edition LP.Recorded in Leigh's
home studio during the pandemic all of the main tracks (guitar and
vocals) were first laid down at home, then backing vocals, violin, cello,
and drums were added by additional friends and musicians remotely due
to the lockdown
San Francisco engineer/ producer Damien Rasmussen pulled all the tracks
together and mixed the record and Nikos Lavdas mastered the record for Tip Top
Recordings. Based in San Francisco Leigh Gregory has opened for the likes of
Supergrass, Luna, trashcan sinatras, The Church, The Clientele, The Morning After
Girls, LILYSand Gorky's Zygotic Mynci as part of Mellow Drunk."Sun Salt & Air" had
its beginnings back in January 2020 when I was working on a handful of new
demos. Suddenly COVID hit and the rest of the year became free to write and
polish up the tunes and finish a fully realized record. It was quite inspiring to have
plenty of free time to develop parts for the songs, plus being at home I could run
into the home studio and spend as much time as I wanted trying out guitar
sounds, vocal melodies, and lyrics as they came to mind. I wanted "Sun Salt & Air"
to be a classic vinyl record with five individual songs per side that fit together
seamlessly and flow from one song to the next. I really like the sequencing on the
record in that it has longer songs with improvised endings, short songs, an
instrumental, and an acoustic song without drums. What I've always loved about
a ten song vinyl record is that it takes you on a little musical journey from side to
side which by the end you're ready to flip over and listen again and again."

Vor gerade mal zehn Jahren wurde "Down To The Bone" von Les Disques Du Soleil Et De L'Acier veröffentlicht - ein DEPECHE MODE Tribute Album, auf dem SYLVAIN CHAUVEAU zum ersten Mal auf einem Album sang. Er interpretierte elf Tracks in seinem typisch minimalistischen Stil und ließ nur die ,bare bones" der Originale zurück. Mit dem ENSEMBLE NOCTURNE definiert er die Konturen dieser bekannten Hits auf ungeheuer intime Art und Weise neu. Das von Kritikern hochgelobte Album ist ein Muss für Fans von CHAUVEAU ("The Black Book Of Capitalism", "Nocturne Impalpable") und DEPECHE MODE. Zur Feier des zehnten Jubiläums des Albums macht sich Ici D'ailleurs an das Re-Issue auf CD und zum allerersten Mal mit neuem Artwork auch auf LP. Ein Jahrzehnt und eine ganze Stange Alben später ist "Down To The Bone" noch immer ein großer Erfolg für CHAUVEAU - das Album reicht weit über ein simples Tribute hinaus, indem es einen Schritt von den Originalen zurücktritt. Die Inspiration des Pop ist noch immer vorhanden, doch diese Stücke geben dem Ganzen einen melancholischen Touch. Das Album ist der beste Weg für CHAUVEAU, der Musik von DEPECHE MODE seine Liebe zu erklären.

Famed free jazz concert registration of an early New Direction for the Art performance. Recorded in 1971. Old-style Gatefold LP, with rare photographs & extensive liner notes by Alan Cummings.

The performance by Takayanagi Masayuki New Direction for the Art at the Gen’yasai festival on August 14, 1971 was an intense, bruising collision between the radical, anti-establishment politics of the period in Japan and the febrile avant-garde music that had begun to emerge a few years before. The ferocious performance that you can hear here was received with outright hostility by the audience, who responded first with catcalls and later with showers of debris that were hurled at the performers. Takayanagi though described the group’s performance to jazz magazine Swing Journal as a success, “an authentic and realistic depiction of the situation”.

In 1962, Takayanagi, bassist Kanai Hideto and painter Kageyama Isamu went on to form an AACM-style musicians’ collective called the New Century Music Research Institute. Every Friday, members gathered at Gin-Paris, a chanson bar in the fashionable Ginza district of Tokyo, to push the outer limits of jazz creativity.

But the pivotal moment for his music was the creation a new trio version of his New Directions group in August 1969, with the free bassist Yoshizawa Motoharu and a young drummer Toyozumi (Sabu) Yoshisaburō. Experiments eventually led to the creation of two basic frameworks for improvisation that Takayagi referred to as Mass Projection and Gradually Projection.

“La Grima” (tears), the piece that was played at the Gen’yasai festival, is a mass projection and listening to it, you can get a clear sense of what Takayanagi was aiming at. Mass projection involves a dense, speedy and chaotic colouring in of space that destroys the listener’s perception of time, and thus of musical development.

The ferocity of the performance of “La Grima” at the Gen’yasai Festival in Sanrizuka on August 14, 1971 was consciously grounded by Takayanagi in a particular historical moment, ripe with conflict and violence. A month after the festival, on September 16, three policemen would die during struggles at the site. This was the context that the three-day Gen’yasai Festival existed within. The line-up reflected the radical politics of the movement, with leading free jazz musicians like Takayanagi, Abe Kaoru, and Takagi Mototeru appearing alongside radical ur-punkers Zuno Keisatsu, heavy electric blues bands like Blues Creation, and Haino Keiji’s scream-jazz unit Lost Aaraaff.

New Direction for the Arts trio topped the bill on the opening day, playing an aggressive, uncompromising “mass projection” set of polyphonic improvisation. Alongside drummer Hiroshi Yamazaki and saxophonist Kenji Mori, Takayanagi soloed hard and continuously for forty minutes. This was performance as precisely calibrated metaphor: three musicians responding to the demands of the moment with instinctive force and fury, untethered by rules, leaderless yet not rudderless (the direction part of the group’s name was no accident). The piece was entitled La Grima – tears - and the fusion between the palpable anger of the performance and hopeless sadness of its title were also perfectly apt for the situation. This was a fight that the state was always going to win. Yet, by all accounts, the band’s set went down like a fart at a funeral. The band were showered with catcalls and debris throughout, and by chants of “go home” when the music finally came to an end.

However, looking back at the event in the year-end issue of Japan’s leading jazz magazine, Swing Journal, Takayanagi was surprisingly upbeat: New Directions brought a solid political consciousness to our performance and succeeded in an authentic and realistic depiction of the situation. But journalism revealed its superficiality in its inability to penetrate the core of the music. I don’t know much about anyone else, but we at least left behind a competent record.

It’s a fascinating statement in many ways. Perhaps on one-hand it can be read as stubborn, solipsistic and self-justifying, yet in conjunction with his statement in 1971 there are points that guide us towards an understanding of just what Takayanagi intended with his performance at the festival. As Kitazato Yoshiyuki has argued, it becomes an almost religious act, directed at the earth deities of the land. A union of anger, sorrow and malevolence that can be placed nowhere effective, all it can do is find expression and channeling. The forcible land seizures at Narita, the eviction of farmers from land that had been in families for generations, the destruction of communities: none of this can be prevented, not least by an artistic action. All that can be done is an attempt to mark the land itself, to soak it with the combined force of emotions and the volume of the performances, to bury something there that cannot be drowned out, even by the coming roar of jet engines.

The new 7" features the single, 'Romantic' which is a song about struggling to fit in, feeling down and finding comfort in romance. Connecting with someone because you both feel like you don't belong. "I gravitate towards things that bring me down, I always have, at least I know that now. Never forward, I thought all I had was the past. I used to think each birthday would be my last." "I sat inside on the brightest, warmest days. Everything I loved would always run away. Misery taught me everything I knew and then there was you." The B-Side is a cover of the Wedding Present song 'Octopussy" from their 1991 album Seamonsters. David Gedge himself said about the cover "Thanks... nice. Always interesting to hear different interpretations!" "God knows I've always had to fear the worst, but not that time. You brought me home and then you kissed me first. You were all mine." "A celebration of personal freedom" - DIY Magazine "Hekt's solo debut is part self-interrogation and part community offering, serving up tiny bursts of joy and doubt as refuge for anyone navigating a similar path." - Pitchfork "A first-person directness and grunge-schooled contrasting of melody" - Mojo

New York-based duo Bottler, Pat Butler and Phil Shore, are the vanguard of their own distinctly eclectic sound. Raw, emotive, bold and highly creative, the duo has successfully carved out their own path with a series of EPs that represent the broad scope of their production prowess. Over the last five years Bottler have been working on their debut album, ‘Journey Work’, a milestone achievement that marks a pivotal moment in their music career. The LP is a distillation of the duo’s multifaceted upbringing, blending a variety of styles together bound together by an overarching attitude and approach that embraces creative freedom and self-acceptance.



Pat and Phil are childhood friends whose bond is akin to that of blood relatives. Their parents are best friends and they grew up side by side, developing their deep love for music together; sharing discoveries and inspirations, learning to play and perform, and nurturing their creativity together. Now formally ordained as Bottler, they channel their eclectic tastes into a sound that encapsulates the love and trust that forms the foundation of the friendship. The duo blends a myriad of styles to create songs that emanate warmth, joy, sorrow, pain and the full spectrum of human emotion.



The album title, like their music, is open to interpretation. The duo reveals themes related to chronicling life’s many ups and downs, the deep preparation that must be taken ahead of a spiritual ceremony or psychedelic experience, and, simply, the journey taken during the conception and creation of an album. A quote from Walt Whitman also partly inspired the title; “every leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars”. However, the intention behind the title is to allow for ambiguity, giving the listener an opportunity to write their own narrative.



Across 11 cuts Bottler illustrate their distinct take on electronic music, weaving in elements of indie, pop, rock, house and techno with confidence and panache. ‘Journey Work’ starts at ‘Home’, a song that is fizzing with positive energy, Pat’s vocals welcoming the listener to the start of this meandering audio adventure.

‘Chrysalis’ opens with delicate piano keys that guide us into a bombastic bassline and energising drum beats. As it progresses, scintillating layers of synth and strings are added, creating a highly affecting, uplifting atmosphere.



‘Melatonin’ follows up next, merging heartfelt vocal delivery with a sombre instrumental, and a stirring guitar riff. A glorious demonstration of Bottler’s songwriting capabilities, which are also evident on ‘Vinyl’, an uptempo dance number with an unbelievably catchy chorus. Here we see the duo channel their experience of playing in multi-member bands, as the breaks and arrangement feel perfectly suited to a festival-sized crowd.



On ‘Tacoma’, Pat and Phil channel their appreciation of house and techno into a haunting cut that utilises reverse strings and extended vocal refrains to chilling effect. A heady club track for the twilight hours. ‘Meds’ incorporates muted singing, mystical pad work and a mesmerising riff to produce a captivating slice of uncomplicated dance music.



This is followed by ‘Hot Water’, which feels like a trip to a Californian beach, circa 1965. The vocals drift over a bouncing bassline with a complementary guitar riff. ‘Mako’ features Samurai Velvet singing about fireflies and afterlife in a wonderfully heartrending manner, Bottler’s instrumental keeping things simple, yet highly effective.



We head back underground with ‘Weed’, a dense, gloomy cut with inspired use of chopped up vocal clips, stuttered throughout, alongside a mean bassline. ‘You’re Old’ is the soundtrack to an explosion of festival euphoria, dancing shoulder to shoulder with your best friends, forgetting all your troubles and living in the moment. An anthemic song that transposes Bottler’s idiosyncratic style onto the pop blueprint. Finally, ‘Cicada Rhythm’ closes the LP with a pensive, yet joyful feeling. A chunky bassline is juxtaposed with Pat’s angelic vocals cascading over the top. A hint of tribalism comes through, as we approach the end of the Journey Work…



Five years in the making, fuelled by the desire to express their deep love for music of all varieties, Journey Work is symbolic of the long road it takes to accept oneself and be comfortable expressing one’s truth. Diverse, dynamic and daring with a rawness and honesty that is rare to find, the album marks a triumphant debut for Bottler and one that crystalises their unique identity.

The long-awaited reissue of this rare Eastern and psychedelic Jazz LP by the famous Hungarian guitarist, originally
released in 1968. For the first time and as extended Edition with four bonus tracks: radio version from 1968/69 7”
singles 7”. Deluxe 6-sided Digipak CD with 20 page booklet and Gatefold Vinyl comes with long, exclusively written
inner notes by the famous researcher and biographer Douglas Payne.
“The performances on this LP have a restrained, introspective quality. Szabo’s work is lyrical, rather economical, and
somewhat angular, and his tone is warm and glowing.” – Harvey Pekar, DownBeat
“Gabor Szabo is at the musical zenith of his career. This album could rank as his best to date.” - Billboard
“But for sheer lyrical beauty, few players are in Szabo’s class. His startling use of dissonance is a delight, too, and
time and again he will alter a final phrase just slightly, totally reorienting a familiar tune.” – Alan Heineman, DownBeat
“This is definitely one of my ‘go to’ Gabor albums.” Mike Stax, Ugly Things
"Gabor Szabo’s Bacchanal documents one of the earliest and finest examples of what was then known as “jazz rock.”
Years before this new jazz style evolved – or devolved, according to some – into “fusion,” jazz rock was mostly
fashioned by younger jazz players whose ears were open to the emerging sounds coming out of rock and roll,
especially those of the Beatles and, later, Jimi Hendrix. " - Douglas Payne
After recording four albums for Impulse in 1967, the distinctive guitarist Gabor Szabo cut three strongest records for
the Skye label in 1968-1969: "1969", "Dreams" and "Bacchanal" all of them became a legendary classic. This time
EBALUNGA!!! are rediscovers "Bacchanal". Szabo's regular group of the era is heard on record for the last time:
guitarist Jimmy Stewart, bassist Louis Kabok, drummer Jim Keltner and percussionist Hal Gordon. With the exception
of two Szabo originals, the material is comprised of current pop tunes including two songs by Donovan, "Love Is Blue,"
"The Look of Love" and "Theme from the Valley of the Dolls."
Gabor Szabo was one of the most original guitarists to emerge in the 1960s, mixing his Hungarian folk music heritage
with a deep love of jazz and creating a distinctive, largely self-taught sound.
Born in Budapest, on March 8, 1936, Szabo was inspired by a Roy Rogers cowboy movie to begin playing guitar when
he was 14 and often played in dinner clubs and covert jam sessions while still living in his hometown. He escaped
from his country at age 20 on the eve of the Communist uprising and eventually made his way to America, settling
with his family in California.
He attended Berklee College (1958-1960) and in 1961 joined Chico Hamilton's innovative quintet featuring Charles
Lloyd. Urged by Hamilton, Szabo crafted a most distinctive sound; as agile on intricate, nearly-free runs as he was
able to sound inspired during melodic passages. Szabo left the Hamilton group in 1965 to leave his mark on the popjazz of the Gary McFarland quintet and the energy music of Charles Lloyd's fiery and underrated quartet featuring Ron
Carter and Tony Williams.Szabo initiated a solo career in 1966, recording the exceptional album, Spellbinder, which yielded many inspired
moments and "Gypsy Queen," the song Santana turned into a huge hit in 1970. Szabo formed an innovative quintet
(1967-1969) featuring the brilliant, classically trained guitarist Jimmy Stewart and recorded many notable albums
during the late '60s. The emergence of rock music (especially George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix) found
Szabo experimenting with feedback and more commercially oriented forms of jazz.
During the '70s, Szabo regularly performed along the West Coast, hypnotizing audiences with his enchanting,
spellbinding style. From 1970, he locked into a commercial groove, even though records like Mizrab occasionally
revealed his seamless jazz, pop, Gypsy, Indian, and Asian fusions. Szabo had revisited his homeland several times
during the '70s, finding opportunities to perform brilliantly with native talents. He was hospitalized during his final visit
and died in 1982, just short of his 46th birthday.

To avoid the “Quésaco?” on the sleeve of Piano Dazibao, François Tusques explains everything: A wall mural on which the Red Guard expressed their opinions during the Chinese proletarian cultural revolution. So much for the “Dazibao”, very good; but the piano in all that?

The piano, François Tusques was self-taught and his work was influenced by Jelly Roll Morton and Earl Hines before discovering Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell and then... free jazz. In Paris in 1965, Tusques mixed with Michel Portal, François Jeanneau, Jean-François Jenny-Clark, Aldo Romano or Jacques Thollot. He also met Don Cherry and above all recorded, with other like-minded Frenchmen (Portal and Jeanneau alongside Bernard Vitet, Beb Guérin and Charles Saudrais), the first album of free jazz in France, named... Free Jazz.

In 1967, Tusques again served up Le Nouveau Jazz, this time in the company of Barney Wilen (and Guérin, Jenny-Clark, Romano). Three years later his thirst for freedom led him to isolation; between May and September 1970, the pianist recorded, at his home, the first of two albums that he would release on Futura Records: Piano Dazibao and Dazibao N°2.

Under the influence of Mao and Lewis Carroll, the free spirit roamed and composed seven tracks which are not so much free as libertarian. As an homage to some friends (Don Cherry, Sunny Murray, Archie Shepp, Clifford Thornton but also Colette Magny, Michel Le Bris or the Théâtre du Chêne Noir), the pianist played cascading bouquets of notes, free-form wanderings, blues-ambushed dances, growls, discords, a fatal requiem... A cherished freedom, songs of hope and demands, François Tusques offers the most unrelenting of independent records.

VINTAGE CROP serve to serve again. Over the last four years the Geelong group have become a burgeoning force in the Australian punk scene. Their burly, brusque yet supple songs have evolved from the garage rock of 2017’s ‘TV Organs’ album into the post-punk panic attack of last year’s ‘Company Man’ EP. Now they’ve sculpted their sound further, the barrage now offset with robust songwriting, their full-pelt bounce tempered with flailing guitar lines and sardonic commentary. Bringing to mind Wire tackling tracks from early 7”s by The Yummy Fur, it’s an inspired approach, both striking and effortlessly mirthful. Vintage Crop still dish-up plenty of commanding stomp, their lyrics remain as keen-eyed as ever, but now they’re unafraid to mess with the tempo and drive their point home.
‘Serve To Serve Again’ is Vintage Crop’s third full-length album. It was recorded by Mikey Young after a year of playing solid shows, including tours in Europe and the UK alongside Louder Than Death and URSA and some of the band’s biggest shows to date in Australia with Amyl & The Sniffers, R.M.F.C. and The Stroppies. This allowed Vintage Crop to nail the songs live before committing them to tape, pulling and pushing ideas, stretching them into new-found territories. ‘First In Line’ races off the blocks with its sawtooth riff and splintered beat, all jagged edges and ragged vocals. Quickly follow a pair of totemic bruisers in the guise of ‘The Ladder’ and ‘The North’, both brimming with a nigh anthemic quality, confident in their faculty to rouse the rabble. ‘Jack’s Casino’ is a lurching romp about gambling, ‘Streetview’ is similarly propellent, only choosing to meander and divert itself with cryptic trips around the neighbourhood: “He only moved to that side of town because the postcode is worth it’s weight in gold”.
There’s no better poised nod to frustration than ‘Gridlock’ - “the hustle and bustle of inner-city traffic is driving me nuts because the radios on static”. Guitar lines entwine and wriggle wildly free from the song’s pouncing rhythm and potent vocal, making for the most vigorous of rackets. ‘Just My Luck’ prowls with a shared thrumming verve, whilst ‘Everyday Heroes’ closes out the album with measured flair. Skewed and fervent, rangy at times yet always assured in its intent ‘Serve To Serve Again’ is long-legged leap for Vintage Crop into the delirious now. These songs strive to make sense of futility, they criticise the chain of command, question privilege and most importantly make us want more from life. Now all we have to do is turn up the volume!

After meeting and working with Janko Nilovic - the extraordinary French library maestro - on a new album, while traveling and performing together around the world for almost 10 years, Igor Zhukovsky & Romeo Miussky - the multi-instrumentalist production duo, and rhythm core of The Soul Surfers - were inspired to make a record of free, spiritual, esoteric sounds which blended together on tape and made Sound Excitement happen.

Drawing on their experience as soundtrack composers and using heavyweight Soviet analog equipment, including a few vintage personal instruments belonging to some legends of the Soviet leftfield music scene, Igor & Romeo started experimenting with genre-blending music. The outcome of their recordings are a mixed bag of different moods and genres.

“It's something similar to a library record or more like a compilation of many different library records on one LP for a good decade if you know what I mean? It's the work which we're really excited about and excited to share with you! ...oh that's hell of a wordplay!"- I. Zhukovsky

Hotel Paral.lel, released in 1997, marks the full length debut release from Austrian Christian Fennesz, originally released by MEGO, following the twitching drone as found on the 1995 EP Instrument, also included in this deluxe 2LP reissue. Once launched, Hotel Paral.lel was to instigate a sublime exploration of a wide variety of forms, from formal abstraction to shimmering drone around to ground zero glitch pop.

Recorded just before mobile computing devices became omnipresent it was an investigation into the sonic possibilities residing in guitar based digital music. Sz launches the career with a constantly buzzing sound that resembles a fax machine encountering a G3 laptop for the first time, realising the game is up. Nebenraum is the first foray into the style for which one would attribute to Fennesz. A glacial drone unexpectedly morphs into a gorgeous melody and microscopic groove. Adding pulse and melody was hearsay in the radical end of experimental music up until this point and with this single gesture, everything changed, for everyone. Blok M nails this trajectory home with a straight up 4/4 beat. Such rhythm also features on Fa with a euphoric mix of a thudding beat, sharp splinters of noise and a devastating exploding melody. Repetition plays heavily through this album as the hyper metronomic beat on traxdata lays a bed for all manner of buzzing electronics. On the closing “Aus” we see a glimpse of what was to come in the future works of Fennesz, an experiment in popping, bubbling pulse pop. A far more darker and experimental work than Fennesz’ subsequent work. This is an exquisite radical field of freeform noise, sliced techno beats and subtle ambient texture all coming together to create a timeless work. There’s little out there in the world of music, still to this day, that sounds remotely like Hotel Paral.lel.

With a radical reinvention of music Hotel Paral.lel is an essential addition to collectors of pioneering music in the late 20th Century and sounds as enthralling today as it did to the shocked ears occupying 1997.

Remastered by Stephan Mathieu.

The new album ‘Til The Oceans Overflow’
connects with the 40th Anniversary of Fischer-Z’s
iconic ‘Red Skies Over Paradise’ album. It is set
once again in Berlin and contrasts the personal,
political and social changes between 1980 and
2020. The internet and social media have radically
affected people’s freedoms and manipulability and
characters mentioned in the 1980s songs are
brought forward 40 years in their lives to illustrate
some of these changes.

The basics of this new album were recorded by
founding member / frontman John Watts in the
famous Hansa Studios in Berlin but the pandemic
put just about everything on pause. His
international band contributed parts from home
across the internet to John in Brighton, who
included them in his production.

John Watts, the heart and soul of the ever-evolving
Fischer-Z - by definition a live performer - has
spent the last year and a half getting his teeth into
making this new themed band album. He is more
eager than ever to promote the new songs, along
with all his classic hits, with a gigantic list of
upcoming shows.

Fischer-Z are stronger than ever. Their last album,
‘Swimming In Thunderstorms’ (2019), put them
back on the map big time with many festivalappearances and sold out club shows:

In November 2020, with the entire world locked down at home, Amir
Bresler was itching to create - He'd spent years onstage, but never
released a full solo album

A friend's invitation brought him to a rural village outside Tel Aviv, and the move lit a spark: Bresler set up shop in the village's local auditorium named 'The House of Arches', and planned single-day sessions with different combinations of Tel Aviv's finest, including keyboardist/ producer Rejoicer, Yemen Blues frontman Ravid
Kahalani, bassist Gilad Abro, pianist Nomok and trumpeter Sefi Zisling. For nearly a week, crews of friends drove north and dug into psychedelic jazz and funk, all built upon Bresler's polyrhythmic beats. They captured spontaneous bursts of energy ' free-form jams in the morning reigned into tight, mesmerizing grooves in the afternoon. Those six compositions ' each recorded live in one day ' make up
House of Arches, Amir Bresler's first solo LP, out on Raw Tapes, with grooves as deep as the Mediterranean where it was conceived.

Nothing is explained in the mysteries around us, but some art touches their soul: last year, Justin Tripp, one half of the US-American impro electronic duo Georgia and London-based electronic artist Zaheer Gulamhusein man behind projects like Waswaas and XVARR -joined forces as STRING. Together they went on a virtual vacation and never came back. As the virtual is fully real due to its virtuality, they created a truly authentic aural hardware journey, hauntingly adventurous, calm, and surprising.

Without defining the scope, STRING tumbled through a dark musical zone that stretched to the horizon, letting the sound shape itself while falling discreet into an appealing abstract space. Hovering clockwise shortly above the ground, they formed impossible geometric musical figures - weightless, fluid clouds, made up of relations between asymmetrical elements. Like in nature, their collaborative work avoids identical characteristics. In an expression of respectful admiration, they softly celebrate the irregularities between their specific genetic musical fingerprints, creating eight light binding clouds of dawn. A meditative musical voyage that transports cosmic particles of idealistic Berlin school ambient right into the heart of their electronic machines. All tunes swing calm but constitutive, dancing around synthesized surfaces that form obsessed flaming orbs of fear and hope, of matter and antimatter.

A shared love for hardware and the ethos of improvisation guided STRING into an experimentation, in which each party aligns closely to the core ideas of co-operative, in-the-moment electronic music, tied across the eight tracks in a sequence.

Finding a home with the highly esteemed Hamburg based label V I S, STRING’s debut “Last Index Of...“ will enter the earth in double vinyl and cassette format, plus tripping on at the digital platforms.

Historically informed violin player, prize-winning street musician, new age experimentalist, chamber ensemble performer and conservatoire deviant. The career of Valentina Goncharova (b. Kyiv 1953) shares parallels with those associated with the broader new music movement of the 20th century and the dissemination of home recording technologies.

Valentina’s was a youth spent immersed in the world of classical music study under soviet rule, first in Kyiv- later in Leningrad & now St. Petersburg, from the age of 16. With the supervision of professors M. Vayman and B. Gutnikov she learned concert violin and developed alternate playing styles alongside skilled pianists. A student of the Leningrad conservatoire during the years 1969 - 1983, her repertoire included music for violin and later expanded to contemporary music composition.

The improvisatory nature of free jazz and then-budding experimental rock circles also intrigued Valentina during this period in Leningrad. Departing from the rules of the conservatoire, she briefly performed in underground rock clubs alongside future members of the industrial group Pop- Mechanika (Popular Mechanics). This perpetual state of flux is central to the variety found within ‘Recordings Vol. 1’, though as opposed to any degree of uncertainty Valentina’s practice is one
in flux by way of earnest curiosity.

Pushing further into an exploration of solo electro-acoustic sounds, she took to home taping on a modified Olimp reel to reel recorder. Intrigued by the manipulability of dubbing and the fresh sounds of DIY effects chains, Goncharova developed pickups alongside her husband Igor Zubkov. Her infatuation with the music of Stockhausen, Xenakis, Ganelin Trio and Pierre Boulez channels through considerations of space and erratic sound design, the 3 movements of ‘Metamorphoses’ embodying this textural approach to musique concrete.

The compositional skills developed in Leningrad unfold in the romantic gestures of ‘Higher Frequencies’, whilst manipulated cello combines with synthesise keys across ‘Passageway To Eternity’.
The slow, pulsating drone soundscapes recall the likes of Robert Rutman’s US Steel Cello Ensemble or even deep listening pioneer Pauline Oliveros.

The juxtaposition of written notation and improvisatory flare is central to Goncharova’s sound world. This period of home recording documents a confluence of minimalism, free form and flirtations
with new age tropes (inc. bell chimes and cavernous vocal mantras).

Experimenting with unusual performance techniques, such as shouting into amplified cello strings, Valentina’s home studio functioned as a place to foster full artistic and creative freedom
away from any academic strictures.

Relocating to Estonia in 1984, and in parallel to the deeply personal music of ‘Recordings Vol. 1’, Valentina performed at jazz festivals and gave classical concerts across Eastern Europe. In a sense, the recordings on these discs offer only a glimpse into her lifelong body of work. Over the past few decades she has taught at Tallinn Music College, expanded and updated post- Soviet popular music repertoire, collaborated with the Russian Philharmonic Society of Estonia and given concerts and charity events alongside the Catholic Church.

Hers is a life dedicated to the exploration of sound, a career forged through careful study and ceaseless intrigue. In a time where technological interconnectedness has allowed for music of the pas
to be continually mined and evaluated through new lenses, Shukai present an artist whose tendency for private home-taping had allowed recordings to go unheard for thirty years.

In March 2020, Tahiti 80 had a plan to start recording their new album in the studio. That plan, of course, along with everything else in the world, got derailed. But the five-piece group was resilient and resourceful. They quickly shifted to a socially distanced plan B that included file swapping and virtual sessions, all refereed by producer Julien Vignon. The result, due for release in March 2022, is the buoyant Here With You, a collection of eleven upbeat songs that unfold like a prescription for a post-pandemic panacea.

“When lockdown in France happened, we said, 'We're not going to stay at home not doing anything,'” says singer-guitarist Xavier Boyer. “And our new plan became a hopeful thing, waking up every morning and seeing what the other guys had worked on. It wasn't always easy, but this new method allowed a freer approach where we could really go all the way with an idea without being influenced by each other’s suggestions. It must've been overwhelming for Julien, who ended up selecting all our arrangements. But he stayed positive all the way through.”

To help stay inspired and focused during their time in isolation, the band created a mood board, with the centerpiece a photo of an early '90s rave in the UK.

Boyer says, “Whenever you see pictures from this era, people seem very innocent. There are no cell phones and everybody is in to what they are experiencing. We kept that picture in mind as a kind of mantra that would help everyone feel connected to this idea of people celebrating, gathering and just having fun. We were missing the connection with people, and thought it would be great if we could create music that would inspire that kind of emotion.”

Indeed, the songs on Here With You are brimming the feeling of communion that we've all been missing over the past two years. It's there in the catchy opener Lost in the Sound, which walks the walk with Chic guitar flicks, urban nightfall sparkles and an inviting chorus (“Your heart grooves like a thousand 808s on the right time”). It's there in the Jackson 5-style syncopated bounce of “Vintage Creem,” the lush, dreamy “Breakfast in L.A.” and the panoramic sweep of “UFO.” And it's there in the first single “Hot,” which matches an irresistible groove with a neon-lit, percolating arrangement that evokes the disco clubs of 1979.

What's remarkable is that though Tahiti 80 displays a clear affection for sounds of the past, from bubble gum to '70s soul, they never trade in mere pastiche. Their take is more a slightly warped and playful carnival mirror mash-up of classic pop styles, given depth through Boyer's hang-gliding, coolly emotive vocals and lyrics that often rub against the euphoric grain of the music.

“I like to think of songs as a three-minute drama,” says Boyer. “This concept of drama definitely adds different levels to our music. There's the melody, the lyrics, then the production that can maybe emphasize or counterbalance the interaction between the yin and yang in a song.

“There's a difference between the very upbeat, sunshine-y soft rock and the lyrics, even on our past albums,” he continues. “Not dark, but a little more melancholy, and also looking for some kind of motivation, talking to yourself. Like with a lot of Motown songs, you get that feeling where you body’s dancing while your mind’s reflecting, reminiscing.”

That alluring blend of happy-sad has been a signature part of the Tahiti 80 sound from the time Boyer and bassist Pedro Resende formed the group in 1993, as students at the University of Rouen. Taking their name from a souvenir t-shirt given to Boyer's father in 1980, the duo recruited guitarist Mederic Gontier in 1994, and with the addition of drummer Sylvain Marchand a year later, the lineup was complete. The foursome released a self-produced and self-financed EP, 20 Minutes, in 1996, which resulted a record deal with French label Atmospheriques in 1998. Their full-length debut Puzzle, produced with Ivy's Andy Chase and mixed by Tore Johansson, went gold and featured the international hit “Heartbeat” that established the band throughout Europe and Asia.

In the years since, Tahiti 80 – with the additions of Raphaël Léger on drums and Hadrien Grange on keys - has released eight acclaimed albums. The band has fused what MOJO called a “glorious entente of old and new technology” (including singles like “Yellow Butterfly,” “1000 Times,” “Sound Museum,” “Crush!” and “Big Day,” which was featured on a FIFA video game soundtrack), while collaborating with such producers and arrangers as Richard Swift, Tony Lash and Richard Anthony Hewson, who famously arranged The Beatles' “Long and Winding Road.” Boyer has also put out two solo albums, the first under the anagram Axe Riverboy and the second under his name. In 2019, the band released Fear of an Acoustic Planet, a stripped-down reimagining of some of their best-loved tracks from the previous twenty years. It served not only as a look back but a reminder of their formidable songwriting skills.

Boyer is definitely a student of the timeless three-minute pop song format pioneered by '60s artists like The Beatles and The Beach Boys. He says, “I see it as kind of a frame for a painting. Most of the songs on this album, I wrote a verse, pre-chorus and chorus. There aren't many middle eights. I wanted it to be very concise. I feel like people have less attention. There's so much music. It's too easy to switch off or skip to another track, so I want to hook the listener. The three-minute song is kind of an easy code to crack, but at the same time you have to figure out a new way to tell the stories that we've heard before.”

And the stories on Here With You are very much about the longing for connection. Of the album title, Boyer says, “In the world right now, that can mean a lot of different things. Like missing our fans, missing going to concerts. In a way, it can be a statement of what happened last year, and a wish of 'I want to be here with you again.' It's our ninth album. We've had some had some very open, conceptual titles like Puzzle, Activity Center. Sometimes they were more specific like Fosbury orWallpaper for the Soul. Here with You, seems more personal, more engaging in terms of relationships. When I suggested that title, everyone in the band said, 'Yeah, that's it.'”

Until Tahiti 80 can resume a full tour schedule, Boyer says he hopes the new record will make that personal connection. “If I see from the point of view as a music fan, sometimes I see albums I like as companions throughout my life. So if we can be a part of people's existence, even if it's a song that reminds them of the time they were driving with the windows open and it was sunny. Or a sad song that resonates with them after a breakup. That's what we're all looking for when we're making music. You do this very personal thing and you want it to touch as many people as possible.”

2023 Repress

"banging piece of sound art" - The Observer

"...a fascinating piece of Brutalist techno that pivots between crisp machine-like minimalism and granulated noise." - Clash

"A piece of immediately engaging techno it reveals more of itself with each listen." - CMU Daily

Nik Colk Void is well established with her work as one half of Factory Floor, one third of Carter Tutti Void (alongside Chris Carter and Cosey Fanni Tutti) and with the late Peter Rehberg as NPVR, but perhaps surprisingly, "Bucked up Space" is her first solo album release.

Void explains, "When Peter Rehberg initially asked me to produce a record for Editions Mego, I didn't feel quite ready and asked if we could make a record together instead. Collaboration is so ingrained into what I do, I only felt ready to make this album after working through ideas live, using the audience in place of the collaborator."

Bucked Up Space combines Void's love of improvisation with the driving force of beat-driven music absorbed from performing in galleries, residencies and clubs across the UK and Europe. She goes on to say, "You find out more about yourself when you explain your ideas to others, and that's how I felt the live performance worked for me."

The process steadily teased out a language and Void employed a variety of tactics in the recording process including a methodical approach of collecting data at her home studio in a manner not dissimilar to keeping a diary. Her microscopic focus on raw instrumental noise, layered and reformulated, resulted in a sound catalogue that Void divided into groups for their tone, density and texture.

These initial pieces were taken to a studio in Margate to put them into a more cohesive compositional context. Something that pragmatically started as cold and detached was given warmth, unity and emotion in the studio. Via improvised repetition co-existing alongside organised production, Void conjures new sonic muscle with tracks such as 'Interruption Is Good' and 'FlatTime'. Initial recordings are rendered into sequences initiating the organic rhythms, triggering awkward jerks of high hats and percussion, or used to activate the margins of post effects detectable in the tracks like 'Demna', 'Big Breather' and 'Oversized'.

Void explains: "It was important to me that the simplicity in the work disguised a lot of complexity, I want this work to be absorbed instinctively."

The sleeve image, a still from We Are City by Brazilian artist Maria de Lima, was chosen to illustrate Bucked Up Space, which Void describes as "a distorted reality, the space that lives at start of an idea, then floats in public view, before returning to inform my understanding of the idea. Once the idea is out in the world, it moves and morphs into something else entirely."

Written, performed and produced by Nik Colk Void, the album was engineered by James Greenwood, mastered by Rashad Becker and tracks 1, 4, 5, 7 and 9 were mixed by Marta Salogni.

Bucked up Space is the result of the ideas and resulting sounds of free exploration morphing into a personal structured album that fearlessly moulds patience, listening and restraint. It's a sharp focussed work embracing collective action through the lens of the self. All this, and also one of the best abstract dance records you will hear in some time!

Loraine James' new ambient-minded alias, Whatever The Weather, follows her 2021 solo LP Reflection (Hyperdub). In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she'd ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as "free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done," allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment - the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at "25°C," a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James' proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, "0°C," its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout "17°C." Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. "2°C (Intermittent Rain)" ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side's opener, "10°C." The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. "4°C" and "30°C" display the range of James' vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones' Chino Moreno and American Football's Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at "36°C," while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

Growing up in the Californian sprawl and the vast suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona, Caleb Dailey largely dismissed the country and western music that surrounded him. Instead, he was drawn to independent rock, experimental zones, and other genre-defying forms, which led him to create skewed rock music with Bear State and establish the “minimal art label” Moone Records with his brother Micah Dailey in 2013. But in the early half of the 2010s, Dailey began to hear things differently. Drawn into the left-of-center works of artists like Gram Parsons and Blaze Foley, a more idiosyncratic take on country, folk, and roots music began to swirl in his imagination.

Wandering into the form’s cowboy chords and lonesome scenes, Dailey found himself wondering what his own country album might sound like. The result is his debut solo album, a collection of covers called Warm Evenings, Pale Mornings; Beside You Then. Produced by John Dieterich of Deerhoof, Keiko Beers, and Dailey himself, it’s a melancholy charmer, rooted in traditional ideas but free roaming in its scope. Laced with synths, pedal steel, acoustic guitars, and commanded by Dailey’s full and woozy voice, it owes as much to the busted waltzes of Lambchop and the homespun lo-fi folk of Little Wings (whose Kyle Field appears on the album via a spoken intermission) as it does to the songwriters and performers who provide its source material, which include Parsons, Foley, Elvis Presley associate Chips Moman, steel guitarist Buddy Emmons, and others.

“The subversive nature of country music isn’t as much at the surface as some other genres,” Dailey says. “But the deeper down the ‘country hole’ I went, the more I wanted to be part of it. It is truly a strange world.”

The hands of Dailey and his collaborators, which includes a wide roster of DIY experimentalists like James Fella of art punks Soft Shoulder, Jay Hufman (Gene Tripp), Lonna Kelley of Giant Sand, Japanese DIY hero’s Koji Shibuya and Tori Kudo, Nicholas Krgovich, Markus Acher of The Notwist, and more, that strangeness is accentuated. Dailey doesn't aspire to retro Nashville fetishism or sanctioned notions of “realness” so much as a genuine outsider authenticity. Take his version of Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind” for example: a highlight of the record, it pairs familiar genre signifiers like pedal steel and guitar strums with warbled synths. Then there’s his read of “Dreaming My Dreams,” originally made famous by Waylon Jennings (who also did time in the Arizona desert), which morphs from a mournful ballad into a wash of far-off sonic noise.

The attention here is on the songcraft itself, with Dailey inhabiting these songs and turning them inside out to reveal unexpected tenderness and playfulness.

Recorded at home with an acoustic guitar and 4-track, Dailey began open correspondences with his collaborators, who fleshed out ideas and added touches, often working with skeletal frames before Dieterich and Dailey shaped it into a cohesive whole. “John is the reason this album exists,” Dailey says. “He sculpted all these parts together in such an otherworldly way. He is truly a magician.” Deeply allergic to insincerity, Dailey avoids any trace of irony. He’s created a cohesive gem out of disparate parts, uniting Americana songcraft with experimental disassemblage. From this bric-à-brac, he’s made something touching and beautifully strange.

Kristine Leschper's The Opening, Or Closing Of A Door, is a paean to the
sensory world and is the first Leschper has released under her given
name, having retired the moniker Mothers after eight years of performing
and releasing music under it
Though both projects are guided by Leschper's idiosyncratic approach to
songwriting, they couldn't sound more different. While Mothers drew inspiration
from the stark, skeletal sounds of post-punk and contemporary folk, Leschper's
new work is practically baroque, integrating an array of synthesizers, strings,
woodwinds, and over a dozen percussive instruments.
The at-home recording process gave Leschper freedom to set her personal ethos
to music divorced from the pressure of an audience. As she worked on The
Opening, Or Closing Of A Door, the constellation of ideas that had guided her
personal transformation began to cohere into something communicable through
music

Loraine James' new ambient-minded alias, Whatever The Weather, follows her 2021 solo LP Reflection (Hyperdub). In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she'd ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as "free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done," allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment - the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at "25°C," a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James' proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, "0°C," its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout "17°C." Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. "2°C (Intermittent Rain)" ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side's opener, "10°C." The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. "4°C" and "30°C" display the range of James' vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones' Chino Moreno and American Football's Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at "36°C," while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

‘Hive Mind Records are here to help you through the winter months with this generous helping of Wet Tuna with their signature deeply fried rural psychedelia.

Matt Valentine (MV) and Pat Gubler (PG Six) have been jamming together since the mid '90s, floating around in the US psych-folk scene, playing together in Tower Recordings and separately with influential underground crews Woods, The Golden Road, Garcia Peoples and The Weeping Bong Band. Both MV and PG Six have been prolific with their solo work and over the years they've recorded for labels such as Ecstatic Peace, Drag City, Woodsist, 3 Lobed, and Crash Symbols and we are very happy to be joining such esteemed company.

On these recordings, made during the first months of the COVID lockdowns in the forests of the Vermont wilderness, MV and PG Six handle the guitars and synths but they're joined by fellow forest freaks S. Freyer Esq, Jim Bliss, Coot Moon and Carson 'Smokehound' Arnold on bass and drums. Brought to you in their patented mind-expanding SPECTRASOUND, Eau'd To A Fake Bookie Volumes 1 & 2 delivers an irresistible gumbo of deep, cosmic psychedelia, primitive drum-machine grooves and woozy country-funk jams. These 6 songs are cover versions of artists as diverse as The Blackbyrds, Michael Hurley and Jimmy Cliff, but stretched out over 4 sides, the album is entirely Wet Tuna - loose, free-flowing and lots of fun!’

NAPPYNAPPA is a prolific artist from Washington DC with a highly creative and free approach. ONDAMICUNDERDACOZMIKLYTZ coalesces his expressive hip hop soundscapes with layers of eclectic influences. The album features production from long-time collaborator Black Moses, as well as Pat Cain, Zac Clare, Tooth Choir, Jelani Kwesi and RICTHESUPERSONIC.

NAPPYNAPPA is one half of the group MODEL HOME alongside Pat Cain. He has featured on over twenty albums in the last two years alone, including the celebrated Disciples compilation ‘One Year’, the acclaimed ‘SE’ on Max D’s Future Times label and ‘both feet en th infinite’, released by Don Giovanni Records.