Summertime sunshine, soaked up across two stunning tracks from Things You Say on Palm Recs. Bursting at the seams with festival energy the A side ‘Thank You Baby’ is a disco house belter, with that fist pumping feeling deep down in its soul.
On the B, ‘Play The Drums’ a hypnotic Italo disco flavoured foray into the depths. Space echoed vocals, punchy synth bass and a crisp beat will have the dancefloor in the palm of your hands.
Boogie Butt Records presents its new release: we are happy to find on this one our friend Will The Funkboss that we had presented on our previous compilation Boogie Slice Vol. 1. He comes back with an incredible dancefloor banger with two slices of Electro Funk coming in 7inch limited vinyl.
Willie The Funkboss is one of the French Rap producers we respect. From his beginning as a DJ in 1991 to his sparks in production at the end of the 90's, everything he touched was good.
He began his career as the resident DJ of the only French club dedicated to Soul and Hip-Hop and started to produce remixes and hip-hop instrumentals before leaving for NYC to perfect his productions and DJ's, before returning to Lyon.
Upon his return, he puts his discoveries to good use by founding Le Gang Du Lyonnais with his friend Raf, a group that specialized in producing French rappers and singers, collaborating with the best of French urban artists. In 2003, they went gold with the single of 113 (Mafia K'1 Fry) "Au Summum".
Today, Will The Funkboss produces Hip-Hop, Soul, Nu-Disco and House on quality labels (Plaizir Musik, Smokin Beats, …), still in the groove!
Just pop it!
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.
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.
Israeli producer Nenor delivers a 4-tracker of impeccably produced dancefloor weapons for his second outing on Razor-N-Tape.
Since releasing on Moodyman’s legendary Mahogani label a few years back and as part of duo Rabo & Snob, Nenor has been honing his craft in the studio, and now puts his skills on full display on an EP that ranges from the poppy disco house of 'How Can I Be Free' to the deep Larry Heard-esque textures of 'Do You Remember,' and the gritty underground bangers of the title track and 'Work That.' He did indeed take his time on this beautifully crafted record, and the result is something quite special.
Kalita are proud to unveil the first ever compilationvfocussing on the phenomenon of 'Burger Highlife', avcrossover of West African melodies with synthesizers, discovand boogie that took over Ghanaian airwaves during the 1980's and beyond. Highlighting key recordings fromvgenre-defining artists including Thomas Frempong andvGeorge Darko, as well as more obscure sought-after tracksvby elusive bands such as Aban and Uncle Joe's Afri-Beat,vKalita come to the rescue of audiophiles, DJs andvmusic-lovers alike with 'Borga Revolution!' Spread over avdouble-LP housed in a gatefold sleeve. Accompanied by av16-page booklet featuring extensive interview-based liner notes on each artist and never-before-seen archival photos.
BLEEP was the hype par excellence at the beginning of the techno movement in 1990/91. BLEEP – inspired by the beeping sound of small toy robots – stood for a phase of good mood and sounds that had never existed before. LFO with their groundbreaking track of the same name and Tricky Disco were two protagonists of those happy days.
More than 30 years later, Jürgen Laarmann (editor of the legendary Frontpage Magazine 89-97, promoter of Love Parade and Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) had the thought that nothing is missing in current electronic dance music as much as bleep.
The idea came about when discussing how to create a soundtrack for the art and techno hype of the day and the crypto art moving currenting stirring up the art market. The comeback of bleeps in a new guise is surely a tried and true remedy: the Bleep Gigaverse makes the blockchain shake.
With his old friend and Bash Records buddy Mijk van Dijk, Laarmann developed the NFT anthem with the striking Fazer bullet intro and a fat 2022 bleep that has been extensively tested on post-Corona dancefloors. Club legend Justus Köhncke (Whirlpool Productions among others) himself a big Bleep fan and Laarmann’s neighbor, contributed a house mix. Most recently, they managed to bring the great Michael Wells – the Godfather of Bleep into the Bleep Gigaverse. He contributes as Tricky Disco with all new bleeps and also with a Hardstyle mix, so the EP offers a spectrum with really different mixes.
May it bleep forever now!
By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann
BLEEP war für wenige Monate zum Beginn des Technomovements in 1990/91 der Hype schlechthin. BLEEP – angelehnt an das fiependen Sound von kleinen Spielzeugrobotern – stand für eine Phase guter Laune und Klängen, die es nie zuvor gegeben hatte. LFO mit ihrem bahnbrechenden gleichnamigen Track und Tricky Disco waren zwei Protagonisten jener glücklichen Tage.
Mehr als 30 Jahre später hatte Jürgen Laarmann (Editor des legendären Frontpage Magazins 89-97, Veranstalter von Love Parade und Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) den Gedanken, dass nichts der aktuellen elektronischen Dance Musik so sehr fehlt wie der Bleep.
Die Idee entstand, als man darüber diskutierte, wie man einen Soundtrack für den Kunst- und Technohype dieser Tage erschaffen könnte, jene Kryptokunst, die den Kunstmarkt aufwirbelte. Das Comeback der Bleeps in neuem Gewand ist das probate Mittel: das Bleep Gigaverse lässt die Blockchain erbeben.
Mit seinem alten Freund und Bash Records Kumpel Mijk van Dijk entwickelte Laarmann die NFT Hymne mit dem markanten Fazer-Geschoss Intro und einem fetten 2022er Bleep, der auf den Post-Corona Dancefloors ausgiebig getestet wurde. Club Legende Justus Köhncke (u.a. Whirlpool Productions), selbst großer Bleep Fan und Laarmann‘s Nachbar, steuerte einen housigen Mix bei. Zuletzt gelang es ihnen, mit dem großen Michael Wells den Godfather of Bleep ins Bleep Gigaverse zu holen. Er steuert einen NFT Tricky Disco mit ganz neuen Bleeps und einen Hardstyle Mix bei, so dass die EP ein Spektrum mit wirklich unterschiedlichen Mixen bietet.
May it bleep forever now!
By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann
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.
"A Ragged Ghost" is the eighth full-length album from electronic producer Jonas Reinhardt. Following albums on Kranky, Not Not Fun, Constellation Tatsu, and more, his debut release for Trouble In Mind brings together 11 new pieces that explore themes of life & death, netherworlds, and the liminal spaces in between. Taken together as a single narrative, the album offers a stirring exploration of mortality and immortality in what Reinhardt describes as 'a dance of religious syncretism, navigating spaces between the living and the dead'. "A Ragged Ghost" finds him synthesizing influences organically from familiar teutonic strains to the intense austerity of early 21st century electronic pioneers such as Biosphere and Susumu Yokota. A whisper of the Italo-disco-esque romps of Jonas' 2012's "Foam Fangs" EP & 2013's "Mask of The Maker" LP merge with his more kosmische leanings into a sinister, slightly funky, but also studious suite that at times feels like a lost sound library record from the KPM archives. Openers "Ape & The Universal Axis" and "In Lotto Commodore" decidedly sound like a selection from a lost film score while others like the bubbling "Sly Tomb" recall the works of Roedelius or Vangelis' serene soundscapes. Meanwhile, fans of the electro-ambience of Manuel Göttsching's strobe-light, proto-house (on his seminal "E2-E4") or the pulsing insistence of John Carpenter's visceral non-horror scores (i.e. "Escape From New York" or "Assault on Precinct 13") will find a lot to love about songs like "Tumb Tumb" and "Wretched Orchestra of Armistice".
"A Ragged Ghost" is the eighth full-length album from electronic producer Jonas Reinhardt. Following albums on Kranky, Not Not Fun, Constellation Tatsu, and more, his debut release for Trouble In Mind brings together 11 new pieces that explore themes of life & death, netherworlds, and the liminal spaces in between. Taken together as a single narrative, the album offers a stirring exploration of mortality and immortality in what Reinhardt describes as 'a dance of religious syncretism, navigating spaces between the living and the dead'. "A Ragged Ghost" finds him synthesizing influences organically from familiar teutonic strains to the intense austerity of early 21st century electronic pioneers such as Biosphere and Susumu Yokota. A whisper of the Italo-disco-esque romps of Jonas' 2012's "Foam Fangs" EP & 2013's "Mask of The Maker" LP merge with his more kosmische leanings into a sinister, slightly funky, but also studious suite that at times feels like a lost sound library record from the KPM archives. Openers "Ape & The Universal Axis" and "In Lotto Commodore" decidedly sound like a selection from a lost film score while others like the bubbling "Sly Tomb" recall the works of Roedelius or Vangelis' serene soundscapes. Meanwhile, fans of the electro-ambience of Manuel Göttsching's strobe-light, proto-house (on his seminal "E2-E4") or the pulsing insistence of John Carpenter's visceral non-horror scores (i.e. "Escape From New York" or "Assault on Precinct 13") will find a lot to love about songs like "Tumb Tumb" and "Wretched Orchestra of Armistice".
Vinyl now gone back to June. RIYL: Slowdive, DIIV, Electric Youth, The Cure, My Bloody Valentine. Solo project of Los Angeles based Matthew Doty (ex-Saxon Shore). For Matthew Doty, Deserta has always been about exploring a sonic universe that allows him to express a kaleidoscope of emotions, without having to say much at all. Through a patchwork of reverb-tinged textures – drone guitars, lingering synths and driving percussion – the Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist weaves together stories of care, frustration and catharsis that ultimately stretch to a gentle resolve. On new album Every Moment, Everything You Need, Doty chronicles the kind of year we all fear, full of uncertainty, tension and sustained pressure, and transforms it into a celebration of perseverance. It’s an essential reminder that we have the power to shape the stories we tell. The pandemic meant that Doty had to give up his studio and downsize a lot of his gear and instead, carve out a space in his two-bedroom apartment to craft the next chapter of Deserta. Sharing the space with his wife and son, Doty and his partner are also essential healthcare workers, which meant the couple would often have to tag-team childcare, along with 13-hour shifts in PPE and people constantly calling with questions about the ever changing guidelines and protocols. Once the blueprint for Every Moment, Everything You Need was set, Doty reached out to a number of collaborators to stitch together his vision for the sonic landscape. James McAlister (Sufjan Stevens, The National, Taylor Swift) came onboard to perform and record drums, while Caroline Lufkin (Mice Parade) wrote and performed vocals on the ethereal “Where Did You Go.” Elsewhere, the LP was mixed by Dave Fridmann (Tame Impala, Mogwai, Interpol), with Beach House and Slowdive producer Chris Coady engineering and co-producing, making this the first time Fridmann and Coady had worked together on a project. While the vocals are more prominent than Deserta’s previous albums, it’s their amalgamation with the instrumental aspects that secures Every Moment, Everything You Need as Deserta’s most confident and assured release to date. An affecting emotional candor teamed with persistent riffs and tenacious rhythms sees Doty unafraid to dive deeper; an unrestrained approach that ushers in a lustrous purging of agitation and anxiety. Showcasing those dark, exhaustive thoughts through crucial swells and looped, electronic soundscapes, it’s an LP that’s infinitely layered, with something new to discover with each and every enchanting listen.
180g vinyl pressing.
During the late 2010s, music lovers around the world began obsessively listening to increasingly esoteric albums on Youtube. More often than not, they’d leave the browser on autoplay. This was how Facundo Arena, the composer and producer behind The Kyoto Connection, discovered the technonaturalistic pleasures of Kankyō Ongaku (environmental music), a distinctly Japanese interpretation of European, British and American minimalist composition and ambient music. “It was a kind of algorithmic magic,” he says.
Upload by upload, the utopian music of Hiroshi Yoshimura and his 80s Japanese contemporaries transported Facundo back to his childhood. When he was five, his father placed him in karate lessons and began watching martial arts movies with him. From those early experiences, Facundo became fascinated Japanese history, tradition, and culture, particularly that of Kyoto - the cultural capital of Japan. Kankyō Ongaku reminded him of hearing the sounds of Japanese folkloric instruments as a young boy, and suddenly, the way the influence of Japan had manifested in his music made sense. “I had the sensation that for many years, I’d been doing something similar to the style,” he explains.
Inspired, Facundo used an iPad and an old Akai cassette deck to record Postcards, his homage to Japanese minimalism and Kankyō Ongaku. By this stage, he was twelve years deep with The Kyoto Connection, the musical project he launched in 2005 in his hometown of Buenos Aires, Argentina. Over that late 2000s and 2010s, Facundo, later on joined by collaborators Rodrigo Trado (drums), Jesica Rubino (violin) and Marian Benitez (vocals, now his wife), released numerous D.I.Y albums. Project by project, they followed the threads between 80s synth-pop, ambient, new age, house, techno and acoustic composition.
Postcards introduced The Kyoto Connection to listeners around the world and brought Facundo into our orbit. During Argentina’s covid lockdown, Facundo received a set of soundscapes recorded in Kyoto by the Japanese musician and sound designer Masafumi Komatsu. Over several insular months, he decorated them with synthesisers, samples and subtle rhythms, creating The Kyoto Connection’s next album, The Flower, The Bird and the Mountain to be released via Isle Of Jura offshoot Temples Of Jura.
Ostensibly made up of twelve distinct tracks, listening to The Flower, The Bird and the Mountain feels more akin to spending calm, meditative time in twelve specific environments. Although the foundations they rest on are recordings made in geographic locations around Kyoto, Facundo has yet to visit Japan. As a result, the landscapes he paints sit somewhere between fiction and fact, richly pictorial sonic imagination juxtaposed with echoes of reality. Regardless, as his bubbling melodies and glistening synthesisers glide against Masafumi Komatsu's recordings, Facundo guides us into a blissful zone of tranquillity well worth spending time within.
Original Sonic Groove family member, Reade Truth returns to the label after a 20+ year hiatus. His latest effort, “2nd Qtr ” consists of four hard-hitting acid techno workouts. Once again Reade bristles with his uniquely psychedelic style that has many of the techno vinyl purists paying high prices for his past releases on Discogs. Get ready for an intense acid fueled journey thru your mind and into the stars beyond.” A1 An Acid Break (Or So It Seems) A2 Night House (Acid To Body) B1 Chemical Play Skool B2 Divided Pleasures
Yellow Vinyl[30,97 €]
The first volume of Back To Mine was released back in 1999 by Nick Warren, designed to showcase a selection of tracks you’d find and be heard playing at the artist's home. Selectors have come in the form of New Order, Pet Shop Boys, Fatboy Slim, and Faithless who all dug deep to find their essential at-home listening.
The latest compilers in the Back To Mine series are none-other than the renowned four-piece, Horse Meat Disco. The horsemen are known for their incredibly fun, deep-diving selections, and this shines through in their Back To Mine compilation in flamboyant style.
Over the course of 16 years of their nightclub tenure, they have become a global brand as pinnacle players of the queer party scene in London and beyond, holding down residencies in New York, Berlin, and Lisbon. Their flamboyant nature and incredibly fun, deep-diving selections have made them one of Disco’s most beloved acts.
Across 15 eclectically brilliant tracks, Horse Meat Disco, which comprises Jim Stanton, James Hillard, Luke Howard, and Severino Panzetta expertly traverse through classic disco cuts, wonky dancefloor groovers, and silky smooth soul.
Out of the primordial chaos of pandemic and two years since their last full-length outing SUPERSAN, those sassy purveyors of World Dance of the highest calibre return with a bang. Duo's 3rd studio album soon to be released by Boom Selectah Records promises to turn heads and perk ears of the aficionados of Afro House but also has a potential to spill out from the niche and conquer the hearts of wider audiences.The album titled 'Little Dakar' is' the labour of love of two long time collaborators from Greece, Kostas and Valantis. This time their quest for musical purity and honesty is enriched and enhanced by stirring alliances. Scattered inside the audio-tapestry of this exotic wax flower you will find the vocals from 'the voice of Senegal' Jefree, and enchanting strumming from the fret of George Koltsiou. While rich traditions of Senegali music are particularly evident (and reflected in the album title), 'Little Dakar' goes far and beyond the sounds of a steamy Dakar Disco dancefloor. Finely tuned ear is in for a treat and could easily travel the distances between Senegal, Angola, Ghana, Uganda and Mali to name but a few. But you don't have to be an expert to fall in love with this album. The multidimensional colours of African musical heritage are easily accessible to a novice too as the references to better known House and Funk traditions could be heard loud and clear throughout the record.
Superchunk’s Incidental Music: 1991-1995 is the band’s second compilation of singles, B-sides, and EPs, originally released in 1995 shortly after their landmark album Foolish. It collects fan favorites from soundtracks such as “Shallow End” and B- sides like “On the Mouth,” as well as covers of The Magnetic Fields, The Verlaines, The Chills, and even Motörhead. AllMusic’s Fred Thomas says it all: “Incidental Music is an essential piece of the Superchunk discography and a snapshot of the band as it transitioned from the scrubby radiance of its early days into the more nuanced songwriting machine it became throughout the mid-’90s.” Exclusively for Record Store Day 2022, the double LP makes its first reappearance on vinyl since its original release, with LP1 on opaque green and LP2 on opaque orange housed in a gatefold jacket.
Als BBC Radio 1's Breakthrough Artist Of The Year 2021 tragen TSHA's DJ-Sets eine strahlende, zukunftsorientierte Energie in sich, während sie gleichzeitig Vintage-Dancefloor-Sounds und den klassischen Raver-Spirit atmen. Die Idee von Acid House (siehe Smiley-Artwork) und der Old-Skool-Rave-Kultur sowie das Ethos von Frieden und Liebe haben die junge DJ/Produzentin zu ihrer 'fabric presents' Arbeit inspiriert, die Rave, 90er Dance, House, Techno, UK Garage, Soul, Grime, Disco und Bassmusik sowie ihr eigenes Exklusive 'BOYZ' umfasst. Dabei spiegeln viele aufstrebende Künstler in ihrem Mix den unverkennbar britischen Clubkultur-Sound wider, dem sie mit diesem Werk Tribut zollt.2LP auf smiley-gelbem Doppelvinyl mit DL-Code.
In the constant state of flux that house and techno are in since their inception, Berlin’s Sascha Funke is at once a fixture and an emblem of the city’s transformations. Probably best-known for his work on BPitch, Kompakt or the evergreen MZ, Funke’s EP for Running Back is an amalgamation of sounds, influences and atmospheres. Subdued rave euphoria, robotic disco-influenced techno-pop and hints of Berlin’s long gone „Dubmission“ party ethics get re-arranged, extracted and reconfigured with „German engineering“ values.
Take the ritual QAM for instance. Using a sample and the legendary morse melody of the weather forecast at the end of each „Tagesschau“ and putting it in a completely different context, is a prime example of a free-form approach to making music and making nostalgia future-proof.
That also holds true for the rest of the EP. While titles like FEZ (Freizeit- und Erholungszentrum) or SEZ (Sport- und Erholungszentrum) refer to lost places in East Berlin, the tracks are anything but. Yearning, precisely programmed and full of joie de vivre at the same time, they all lock into and complement each other. So much, that you will find a new favorite with every listen.
