Search:house of pain

2025 Repress

DJ Quik is a giant of West Coast hip-hop. With 1995’s Safe + Sound, he scaled new levels of musical magnificence with his signature new age P-Funk/laconic G-Funk. A quintessential, sun-scorched LA album, this is pretty much essential. Typical for mid-90s albums the original vinyl copies are now rare so here’s the Be With re-issue, complete with “Tanqueray”, the hidden track from the original CD release.

A preternaturally gifted producer/rapper, DJ Quik has produced scores of LA gangsta rap classics. He’s released platinum and gold records of his own, as well as helped craft them for the likes of Tupac, Snoop Dogg, and Dr Dre. Quik has always been quirkier and more interesting than his gangsta rap peers, both musically and lyrically. An old-school funk producer at heart, he’s also incredibly nice on the mic. His raps often deal in boasts, jokes and good times but also cover his beefs, his trials and his trauma. Partying and pain, all mixed up. DJing and producing hype beat tapes from age 14, Quik’s tracks blended the languid funk and rubbery synths of Zapp and George Clinton with a gangsta aesthetic, creating a more danceable foil to Compton’s more typical nihilistic hedonism. Ultimately, his records sound custom engineered to drift out over sun-soaked barbecues.

By the time of his third album DJ Quik was a household name on the West Coast - California’s premier rapper/producer not named Andre Young. Released on Profile in 1995, Safe + Sound was certified gold. Less reliant on samples and more focused on live instruments, it elevated him from producer to fully-fledged composer. This sound — the quick, winding basslines, tinny high hats, smooth instrumental solos, soulful pipes, and Roger Troutman’s talkbox — defined him. This is an album of full-blown masterpieces. Rich soundscapes and masterfully arranged orchestrations with dense layers of sounds, intricate rhythms, and well-balanced songwriting.

The first track proper, “Get At Me” samples Cameo whilst Quik takes aim at the Judases in his life, the horn-laced chorus providing a triumphant feel. On the horizontal “Diggin’ U Out”, the soulful electric piano of Warryn Campbell lays a relaxed groove for Quik to talk over about one of his favourite topics: sex. Title track “Safe + Sound” chronicles Quik’s formative years over a slick instrumental. The moody bass locks a laidback infectious groove, the hook is catchy and Quik’s delivery is in fine form. On the uber-chilled “Somethin’ 4 Tha Mood”, Quik cooks up a breezy, feel good track of sparkly keyboards, syncopated claps, shuffling hi-hats, woozy synths and a floating two-minute flute solo courtesy of Robert “Fonksta” Bacon. Analysing the highs and lows of an average day in the hood, it echoes Cube’s “It Was a Good Day”.

“It’z Your Fantasy” is a silky smooth soundtrack to Quik’s detailed retelling of a sexcapade with a young lady and whilst “Tha Ho In You” is musically perfect for that midsummer family BBQ, its lyrical content is unsurprisingly decidedly less family-friendly. A real highlight, the infamous “Dollaz + Sense” is one of the most ruthless diss tracks of all time. The brutal lyrics ride a laidback West Coast beat, flipping a sample from Young & Company’s “I Like (What You’re Doing To Me)” as Quik fires lyrical shots at his arch Compton nemesis, MC Eiht. On the loping, hazy “Let You Havit”, Quik is again in gangsta mode, with more bars of barbs aimed at Eiht, rhyming over sun-kissed synthy-rollerskate funk.

Some of the finest tracks on Safe + Sound are those designed to de-stress. The evocative “Summer Breeze” is a classic warm-weather jam, anchored by a twangy funk guitar, breezy string arrangement, and a soulful hook delivered by Dionne Knighton. Quik’s nostalgic lyrics are not far from DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince’s “Summertime”, reminiscing over barbecues at the park, young love, and the brevity of halcyon youth. The relaxed and jazzy “Quik’s Groove III” is another highlight, as bass, guitar, piano and flute combine to create a smooth, soulful instrumental.

The swaggering “Shack Up”-sampling “Sucka Free” features a cameo from Playa Hamm, all funky braggadocio and over much too quikly (pun thoroughly intended). The jazz-flavoured “Keep Tha ‘P’ In It”, again featuring Playa Hamm but this time extending the cameo invitations to Hi-C, 2nd II None and Kam, is pure laidback P-Funk. The deep bass and industrial drums make sure the groove hits hard.

“Tanqueray” was originally a hidden track on the CD version of the album, but it’s too good to hide. This wild party samples Brass Construction’s gigantic “Get Up To Get Down” and soars in its drunk-ebullience. An apt way to close this party-driven set.

This 2022 Be With double LP re-issue has been mastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. Unusual for the time, Safe + Sound was originally pressed as a double, so all that was missing was the CD’s hidden bonus track “Tanqueray”, so we’ve fixed that. The original vinyl release never got a picture sleeve, so we’ve recreated the original’s promo-style silver-sticker and plain black jacket. A subtle cover for a wonderfully unsubtle record.

King Street Sounds continues to reissue house classics from their legendary back catalogue, this time releasing a second VA sampler featuring four deep soulful house tracks.This compilation showcases dancefloor fillers from notable artists such as Dennis Ferrer, Lil Louis, Masters at Work, Mood II Swing, and Kimara Lovelace. These underground anthems have stood the test of time and still sound as fresh as when they were first released.House music enthusiasts can once again come together and take the opportunity to own these incredible tracks on this fantastic EP.

Theresa Stroetges returns to Karaoke Kalk with her second album for the Berlin-based label, her fifth solo full-length with her Golden Diskó Ship project in total. Having released records with the Indian-German band project Hotel Kali as well as Painting, a group dedicated to audio-visual concepts, »Oval Sun Patch« sees her embrace influences from club culture, advanced electronic music, and pop more firmly than ever before. Over the past 15 years, Golden Diskó Ship has served a vessel with which the Berlin-based multi-instrumentalist has traversed a variety of genres and circumnavigated all conventions in the process. With »Oval Sun Patch,« Stroetges again sets sail into unknown waters with what is perhaps her catchiest album so far—beat-driven, playful, atmospheric, and at times thoroughly anthemic. This is the sound of Golden Diskó Ship moving forward.

A life lived in transit, the vastness of bodies of water and the isolation of islands as well as more generally notions of processes and progress have been recurring motives throughout Stroetges’ previous records and also mark »Oval Sun Patch.« In fact, the foundation for the six pieces was laid when she was working abroad and at times close to the sea. The massive three-part album closer »Earth Before The Space Race« was conceived as a multi-channel audio-visual performance piece during a 2021 residency at Zaratan Arte Contemporânea in Lisbon. The others were written in the following year during two other residencies when Stroetges first spent time in Austria at the sound art festival Klangmanifeste in Lindabrunn and then visited Portugal once more for a stay at Goethe-Institut in Lisbon. With the help of Shelley Barradas, who lent her a guitar, and Julia Klein, who helped her setting up a temporary studio in the Goethe-Institut Portugal’s auditorium, she made the preliminary recordings of what would later become this album.

»Oval Sun Patch«, later refined in Berlin and mixed in close collaboration with London-based engineer Hannes Plattmeier, is a direct result of Stroetges having to work with what was available to her at the time of writing and recording. While her distinct guitar playing—evocative yet funky, complex but catchy—once more features heavily and she uses her voice in manifold ways to sometimes harmonise with herself or creating complex canons as counterpoints to her her own lead vocals, the electronic gear she worked with dominates the album both compositionally and sonically. Stroetges’ music has always displayed a passion for club culture and advanced electronic music, but on »Oval Sun Patch« she proves once and for all how well these influences can be integrated into her unconventional approach to songwriting.

However, the punchy beat and Moroder-like bassline that form the backbone of »Dolphins With Soft Helmets,« the throbbing house and techno grooves underneath »Ephemeral Carnivores« and »Well-Oiled Machine« as well as the jittery IDM rhythms of »Google Your New Name« and her nods to trip-hop with »Tiny Island« do not so much follow established formulas as they use them as a starting point for wild experimentation instead. Stroetges juxtaposes complex rhythms with interlocking melodies and rich harmonies in ways that continue to surprise throughout and still leave enough space for the occasional wistful guitar or vocal passage. Nowhere does this approach feel more epic than on the 12 ½ minutes long »Earth Before The Space Race,« which takes its time to unfold, changing its pace and mood throughout.

»Oval Sun Patch« is an album about change. The lyrics describe constant transformations of sceneries, relationships, physical and emotional states as well as the climate throughout its running time. Stroetges in the meanwhile leads the way as a singer, songwriter and producer who lets her music evolve constantly. This is sound, moving forward.

46 tracks on a 3-LP collection – including: Adam & The Ants, Kate Bush, The Jam, Madness, Diana Ross, Lipps Inc, Paul McCartney, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark,

Spandau Ballet, Ramones, Siouxsie And The Banshees, Odyssey, Kool & The Gang…

"Atria" is an exceptionally deep, easy-to-play-on-repeat work from Denver-based FOANS, a continuity of heartbreaking melodic interludes and nostalgic, otherworldly softness. Originally self-released in 2014, "Atria", comprised of 9 tracks simply titled "Diorama", is a plunge into dubby textures, meditative rhythmic cadence, lamenting chords, and shimmering neon pads. While growing to become a household name, especially for fans of 100% SILK and the now sadly defunct Danish label Speaker Footage, FOANS has offered numerous beloved releases over the last decade, showing listeners who stumble across his artistic microcosm that he has his own trademark sound, one that is often very recognizable even in a crowded space; a remnant from his early years as a bedroom producer, Atria shows us that FOANS’ sound has always shimmered, has always moved through heavy emotions and uneasy silliness. It will likely continue to do so for years to come.

Perfect Location Records is honored to commit this stunning work to vinyl for the first time, with a digital remaster for digital collectors as well. The record will be packaged in a black die-cut jacket and include a download code along with a small matte print of the acrylic-on-canvas cover art by painter Andrea Willems.

Limited run of 200 physical copies.

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

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

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

Printed sleeve offering a painting from Dj Frendleyks himself :)

This is Tek-Hosue, a meeting point between freetekno and house... because there are no frontier !

No prizes for guessing the motivation behind this new EP, 5 Years Of B2 Recordings. It is a tidy and tasteful celebration of half a decade of top quality deep house from a range of key players. This one opens with Frenchman Brawther getting dubbed out and deep as ever with some nice lounge chords and blissed-out pads. Bengoa's 'Neftina Dub' has a subtle US garage shuffle to it that harks back to the 90s and Lex & Locke then bring rich paint chords and withering synth motifs to 'Atenas Blues' before Zaq's 'Make A Wish' shuts down with some cosmic rays of positivity. A fantastic EP so here's to the next five years.

High Hopes - New album from the Mole.
High Hopes is 17 songs across 40 minutes on one slice of wax that, as advertised, sounds nothing like last month’s Ep, High Dreams. Here, rather than the long form dance form, is a continuation of the beat tape pacing from the last album, a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.
What’s heard on High Hopes is the Mole’s exploration of a love letter, from one person to a family, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic, from a boy to a painted bird. Vancouver Island to Manantiales. The songs range from ambient sound bath and hip hop sludge, up to micro boogie and almost House before tumbling back down and forth again. Bubbling synths, MPCs swung out, samples chopped and chewed, bass and violins from Rick and Sophie, field recordings of birds and frogs and beaches, friends and family and fiestas. Did we mention the love ?! This album has got it all! Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope this wax: jacket, sleeve and cookie. Antonio’s work is typified by playful combinations and bold statements about living in a embrace of analog and digital health. His co lages marry the corporeal world with an updated, digitalized age of reproduction, inducing feelings of gratitude for the simple everyday scenes we sometimes lose touch with when we forget to slow down. Good living, like breathing, requires inhaling as well as exhaling.
We can’t always produce content, make art, we must also pause, and listen. And enjoy. The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs included on High Hopes. Rick May plays bass on both Que Rico and album stand out GoinF4er. Sophie Trudeau (Godspeed You Black Emperor) plays and arranges violins on GoinF4er and Danuel Tate (Cobblestone Jazz) and Julz Chaz (Wagon Repair) both play Vibes and Emaxx throughout the album. Working with these incredible talents not only enriched this album, but fulfilled a long standing goal of the Mole’s; to work again with the musicians from whom he learned so much. People who helped inform the shape of Mole to come.
The Mole who was As High As The Sky. The Mole has been ‘recognized’ by the ‘global underground’ since his critically celebrated premiere album, As High As The Sky, but his earlier Eps (Wagon Repair, Philpot, Musique Risquee) got the attention of Top DJs, clubs, and festivals around the world first. His sound remains unique, fresh and deep: enjoying plays in a wide variety of spaces and places.
High Hopes is the Mole’s 5th solo album and his 2nd album for Circus Company (The River Widens) who have also proudly released two eps of Mole magic (Little Sunshine, High Dreams).
*Isn’t that too much time for one record? Short answer - No. Long answer - depends on the material. Due to the many quiet passages in the album, the groove spacing can be modulated and the needle can slow it’s progress towards the center/end resulting in longer sides with continued high gain and low distortion.

High Hopes - New album from the Mole.
High Hopes is 17 songs across 40 minutes on one slice of wax that, as advertised, sounds nothing like last month’s Ep, High Dreams. Here, rather than the long form dance form, is a continuation of the beat tape pacing from the last album, a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.
What’s heard on High Hopes is the Mole’s exploration of a love letter, from one person to a family, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic, from a boy to a painted bird. Vancouver Island to Manantiales. The songs range from ambient sound bath and hip hop sludge, up to micro boogie and almost House before tumbling back down and forth again. Bubbling synths, MPCs swung out, samples chopped and chewed, bass and violins from Rick and Sophie, field recordings of birds and frogs and beaches, friends and family and fiestas. Did we mention the love ?! This album has got it all! Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope this wax: jacket, sleeve and cookie. Antonio’s work is typified by playful combinations and bold statements about living in a embrace of analog and digital health. His co lages marry the corporeal world with an updated, digitalized age of reproduction, inducing feelings of gratitude for the simple everyday scenes we sometimes lose touch with when we forget to slow down. Good living, like breathing, requires inhaling as well as exhaling.
We can’t always produce content, make art, we must also pause, and listen. And enjoy. The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs included on High Hopes. Rick May plays bass on both Que Rico and album stand out GoinF4er. Sophie Trudeau (Godspeed You Black Emperor) plays and arranges violins on GoinF4er and Danuel Tate (Cobblestone Jazz) and Julz Chaz (Wagon Repair) both play Vibes and Emaxx throughout the album. Working with these incredible talents not only enriched this album, but fulfilled a long standing goal of the Mole’s; to work again with the musicians from whom he learned so much. People who helped inform the shape of Mole to come.
The Mole who was As High As The Sky. The Mole has been ‘recognized’ by the ‘global underground’ since his critically celebrated premiere album, As High As The Sky, but his earlier Eps (Wagon Repair, Philpot, Musique Risquee) got the attention of Top DJs, clubs, and festivals around the world first. His sound remains unique, fresh and deep: enjoying plays in a wide variety of spaces and places.
High Hopes is the Mole’s 5th solo album and his 2nd album for Circus Company (The River Widens) who have also proudly released two eps of Mole magic (Little Sunshine, High Dreams).
*Isn’t that too much time for one record? Short answer - No. Long answer - depends on the material. Due to the many quiet passages in the album, the groove spacing can be modulated and the needle can slow it’s progress towards the center/end resulting in longer sides with continued high gain and low distortion.

A collaboration between Duncan Bellamy (Portico Quartet) and Belinda Zhawi (MA.MOYO), Jump Ship, Sit Lean, Be Still, Stand Tall is a collection of sonic-poetry that sets Zhawi’s illuminating, elliptical words in dialogue with diffuse, explorative music and sound by Bellamy. Fluctuating between expansive contemporary classical arrangements and intimate layered vocal experiments, together they render these disparate forms into something distinct, melancholic and luminous.

Belinda Zhawi is a literary & sound artist based in London & Marseille, author of Small Inheritances (ignitionpress, 2018), & experiments with sound/text performance as MA.MOYO. Her work explores African diaspora research and narratives, and how art and education can be used as intersectional tools. Her literary & sound works have been featured on various platforms including The White Review, Vogue, NTS, Boiler Room & BBC Radio. She’s held residencies with Triangle-Asterides, France; Cove Park, Scotland; Serpentine Galleries; ICA London and was a Brixton House Associate Artist 2022 - 24. Belinda’s the co-founder of literary arts platform, BORN::FREE. She is working on her first full poetry collection.

Duncan Bellamy (b. Cambridge, UK, 1986) is a multidisciplinary artist based in London. His diverse practice encompasses painting, silkscreen, photography, sound and music. His work examines the shape of time, loss and our relationship to the past and present in a period of compressed transformation. He is a founding member of Mercury Prize nominated Portico Quartet, and has contributed sound work to the artist Hannah Collins audio-visual installation I Will Make Up A Song. Bellamy is working on a debut exhibition and new music.

A Universe of Pop: Fleetwood Mac’s Tango in the Night Features Meticulous Production, Includes the Hits “Big Love,” “Everywhere,” “Seven Wonders,” and “Little Lies”

Experience the 1987 Album in Audiophile Sound for the First Time:

Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Captures the Perfectionist Details

1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

The perfectionism involved in crafting Fleetwood Mac’s Tango in the Night reached a level of intensity experienced by few artists before or since. Commercially and creatively, the painstaking efforts paid off. Recorded over the span of 18 months, the triple-platinum album spawned four hit singles and put Fleetwood Mac back at the center of mainstream conversation. Its demands also ultimately forced its primary architect, guitarist-singer Lindsey Buckingham, to leave the group shortly after its completion. Was it all worth it? A thousand times “yes.”

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set of Tango in the Night presents the 1987 record in audiophile sound for the first time. Everything co-producers Buckingham and Richard Dashut sought to instill in the music — the exacting tones, gauzy textures, plush atmospherics, shifted harmonics, unique pitches, pristine acoustics, biting rhythms — can now be heard with elevated accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Made under challenging circumstances, Tango in the Night is as much a universe of sound as it is an album. This reissue conveys that sonic spectrum in exhaustive manners that go beyond prior editions by playing with a combination of transparency, imaging, openness, and dynamics that provides uncanny insight into the meticulously layered vocal and instrumental tracks. Equally important, it also amplifies your connection to the elaborate melodies, contagious hooks, and airy highs that account for the album’s ageless pop brilliance.

As for the wondrous array of percussive accents, synthesizer elements, interlaced guitars, and lush choruses — all seemingly occupying the exact right place amid the soundstages and taking on shapes and forms that lend them a living, breathing quality? If your audio system is up to the task, the realism, presence, and warmth of Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition will have you considering Tango in the Night from a new perspective — one that puts its lavish, gorgeous creations on a par with those from Rumours and Tusk.

Unlike those records, Tango in the Night began from a more individualistic perspective in that it sprang from what originally was intended to become a Buckingham solo effort. Instead, it remains the final album credited to the peak Fleetwood Mac lineup involving Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, Mick Fleetwood, and John McVie. Though the participation of all the members varies from track to track, the cohesive arrangements and alchemic production on Tango in the Night suggest a unity that remains on a par with the band’s other landmark works.

Largely constructed from laborious methods that involved recording at half speed to achieve the desired sonics and tonal nuances, piecing together verses and choruses to attain seamless synchronicity, and Buckingham using a Fairlight CMI synthesizer/workstation in visionary ways, the songs pair electronic and acoustic elements to radiant effect. Tango in the Night also possesses light dance structures that resulted in several tunes being recast as dance mixes on extended-play singles. Above all, however, this is music that appears to float and cast dreamy spells.

Surrender to the frisky interplay of the opening “Big Love,” big pop punctuated with Buckingham’s back-and-forth “oh-ah” sighs that ping the Top 5 smash with innocuous sensuality and toe-tapping momentum. Delight amid the shimmering lights of “Seven Wonders,” whose shades and shadows shift amid Nicks’ raspy vocals and a large group chorus. Wrap yourself in the warmth of the weightless “Everywhere,” a flawless slice of hummable pop that topped with Adult Contemporary charts for three weeks and towers as an ode to the love everyone desires. Stare into the mysterious landscape of the title track (and dig the synthesized harp) just before it explodes, briefly ceding to a terse riff and locked-in grooves.

Tango in the Night teems with delightful surprises and well-honed specifics, especially when Buckingham and Christine McVie team together. In addition to the aforementioned “Everywhere,” the singer born Christine Anne Perfect plays a major role on four more cuts — all highlights — from the breathy, head-over-heels emotionalism of “Mystified” to the sweet, sweeping escapism of “Little Lies,” a cover-up of romantic despair aided by Nicks’ irreplaceable background vocals.

“If I see you again/Will it be the same,” asks Buckingham on “When I See You Again,” finishing up a song a longing-sounding Nicks had started while voicing words that many likely knew would resonate far beyond the confines of the heartfelt song — a goodbye wearing a faint disguise. Though Fleetwood Mac would never again reach the heights maintained throughout Tango in the Night, and members would go their own way, the album towers as a paean to what’s possible in the fields of pop, rock, and studio wizardry.

Joni Mitchell Gets Jazzy, Counterbalances Love and Trust with Freedom and Confusion on Court and Spark


Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP
Plays with Definitive Detail and Clarity: Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl Strictly Limited to 5,000 Numbered Copies
Box Set Features New Liner Notes
1/4" / 15 IPS / Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe


Court and Spark, the most commercially successful album of Joni Mitchell's trailblazing career, arrived after a year in which she took some time to breathe and kept a low profile. The pause led to more breakthroughs for the singer-songwriter. Marking Mitchell's increasing drift toward jazz (and affinity for Miles Davis and John Coltrane), Court and Spark garnered four Grammy nominations, earned the Best Album of the Year vote in the prestigious Pazz & Jop poll, and ranks #110 on Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and featuring new liner notes, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set presents the 1974 classic with definitive detail, tonality, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile-quality treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD sets.

Benefitting from a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible edition reproduces without compromise the textures, details, and breathtaking craftsmanship that help make Court and Spark into what many fans believe is the Canadian native’s finest hour. Notes bloom and decay as they do amid an acoustic live environment. Soundstages extend far and deep, with black backgrounds and balanced tones adding to the uncanny realism.

The reference-grade presence and openness put in transparent view Mitchell’s incisive words and unique phrasing, as well as the contributions of her prized support musicians — including Tom Scott and the L.A. Express as well as guest turns by the likes of David Crosby, Graham Nash, Jose Feliciano, and Robbie Robertson. Mitchell, experimenting with the melodic parameters of guitar and piano, is rightly found at the center of it all. The jazz-rock rhythms of drummer John Guerin, slippery guitar lines of Larry Carlton, vibrant horns and reeds laid down by Scott — crucial to the songs’ shape-shifting arrangements — can now also be heard with fresh ears.

Visually and physically, the packaging of the Court and Spark UD1S set complements its distinguished status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, both LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. This reissue is for listeners who desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including Mitchell’s “The Mountain Loves the Sea” painting — a picture of waves embracing and receding away from a mountain, a metaphor for the record’s lyrical themes — on the cover art.

Pitching deceptively light compositions against underlying tensions, Court and Spark witnesses the singer-songwriter finding her footing with a group of top-shelf musicians who seemingly understand her visions as well as expanding her lyrical palette and venturing further into territory no artist had dared explore. Mitchell’s accessibly complex structures, beat-propelled rhythms, and spirited interplay with Scott & Co. both give the music a different identity than her prior efforts and point in the directions she soon headed.

Lyrically, Court and Spark matches the wit, integrity, originality, and intellect of anything in Mitchell’s oeuvre — no small feat. Offsetting positives with negatives, and considering circumstances from multiple angles, Mitchell explores issues connected to love and freedom, certainty and confusion, and trust and fear with unfettered boldness and introspective empathy. She teeters between surrender and retreat, and spends a majority of the record sussing out the complications and sacrifices involved with such actions.

Mitchell addresses the transactional nature of desire (the intimate title track, the upbeat “Raised on Robbery,” complete with rock ‘n’ roll pep from Robertson and zesty sax from Scott); anticipation and disappointment of romance (“Car on a Hill,” “”Down to You); fame and celebrity (“A Free Man in Paris,” “People’s Parties”); and sanity (the dark and stormy “Trouble Child,” a satirical cover of Annie Ross’ “Twisted”). Throughout, she sings with an emotionally penetrating beauty and devastating honesty that teaches about ourselves.

Or, as Mitchell relays on “People’s Parties”: “Laughing and crying/You know it’s the same release.”

Outcast Planet Compilation vol.1 is the first in a series of volumes by Outcast Torino and features two records and 9 tracks, one for each resident DJ: Alex Dima, Bakked, Cristian Sarde, Denaila, Emanuele Montalto, Lorenzo Aribone, Munir Nadir, Paolo Macri and Paul Lution.

The collective from Turin comes together for the first time in a V.A whose sounds range from house to techno, with deep and electro influences.

Coming soon from Outcast Planet straight to your turntables, get your copy now.

When the quartet of Luke Martin, Gabriel Salomon, Klaus Janek and Andy Graydon gathered to record an afternoon of sessions in Andy's studio, it was both the result of years of cultivation and an afterthought. Klaus and Andy had been long-time, and now long-distance, collaborators since their shared years in Berlin. That city was also where Andy was introduced to Gabriel at one of his solo performances by their mutual friend, the painter Paul McDevitt. Years passed, and cities. After meeting and working together in Boston, Luke and Andy both found themselves transplanted to Minneapolis. And by happenstance Gabriel arrived a few years later. A new conversation was just starting to emerge when Klaus announced his arrival, stopping by on a North American tour. Suddenly the four got a chance to listen and play together performing on a bill at a local gallery, in one configuration or another, for the first time. Packing up after that show, Klaus leaned over to ask, "isn't there a moment we could meet again, to play?"

Nothing was expected, and so anything was possible. The circumstances lent their gathering an impromptu but grounded feeling, a unique mix of chance encounter and reunion. As befits an opening encounter, the focus was as often on listening to the unfolding sonic conversation as it was on making a recording. Everyone seemed to intuit the direction despite not knowing where they were headed. The four faced each other in a loose circle surrounded by speakers and microphones pointed haphazardly, as likely to catch the dog padding around curiously as the bowing of strings or rattling of a cymbal. The permissive spirit of the day was declared early, just before rolling, when Gabriel asked if we should close the studio windows or leave them open. "You know what my answer is," replied Luke. If it's in the nature of a recording to become fixed, to be bottled up, let us at least leave open the windows to hear what might be coming next.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

You Are The Morning was formed amid personal upheaval in 2021. "I came out as trans to my nearest and dearest," she says, "Some did not accept me, but some did." Jasmine got divorced, and a difficult home life meant she was writing while experiencing homelessness and precarious housing, sleeping on friend's couches and relying on community support. Despite the pain of some of its background, the record is an uplifting look at t4t love. Jasmine describes her first trans romance as the first time she experienced joy in a deep sense, because of her experience of living as a woman. First single `Skin on Skin' explores the new joy of physical touch. Usually a quick writer, it's a rare song that grew over time, during which a close connection with a friend began to form. "Sticking to the physical boundaries we wanted to have with each other became increasingly difficult. We were spending lots of time together, then falling in love. This song became a celebration of healing and physical catharsis found through unrepressed queer love." The first UK signee on Saddest Factory Records, the album was produced by Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus. Jasmine and her band travelled to L.A. to record at Sound City Studios. It was made across 12 days in a highly collaborative and emotional process, and because Jasmine sees her songs as fluid and ever-changing, the recordings carry that free and spontaneous spirit. jasmine.4.t is supported by an all-trans band, Phoenix Rousiamanis contributes piano and strings, with Eden O'Brien on drums and Emily Abbott on bass. With Jasmine's voice and songwriting at the centre, the record incorporates a wider cast of voices. `Best Friend's House' features a chorus including her bandmates, Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus ("the girls and the boys"), Saddest Factory Records label-mate Claud, Becca Mancari and E.R. Fightmaster. The song carries the communal spirit of the record's creation. On the closing track, `Woman', she is backed by the Trans Chorus of Los Angeles, a cross-generational group of trans singers who, like Jasmine, use their voice as a source of communal power. The song blossoms from solo performance to wider group catharsis. All the while, Jasmine sings unwaveringly about the power of knowing yourself at a core level: "I am, in my soul, a woman". The writing of You Are The Morning pulled from dark moments to tell its story. Surrounded by friends, the recording process was full of light. Through her performances, activism and artistry, jasmine.4.t is ushering in a new dawn.

“A huge thing for this record was to make it feel as close to our live show as possible,” says Tom Sharkett of W.H. Lung’s latest album. “We didn’t want it to sound live but we wanted to capture the excitement of the live performances.”

This is something that has become paramount to the group in recent years as they have undeniably blossomed into one of the most joyous and arresting live bands in the country. “The reason I’m in a band is to play live music,” says singer Joe Evans. “For me, music is live music. That’s what it’s for, to be played with people.”

The five-piece band, also featuring Chris Mulligan, Hannah Peace, and Alex Mercer-Main, decided to try something new on their third album after two incredibly successful collaborations with previous producer Matt Peel. In order to capture the energy, spirit and dynamism of their live shows, they relocated to Sheffield to work with Ross Orton (MIA, Arctic Monkeys, Working Men’s Club) who was able to harness this side of the band to remarkable effect. “Ross is the Sheffield Steve Albini,” says Evans. “He’s the king of not overthinking it and trusting the process of the art of recording songs. He was always there to stop us fucking around with cerebral stuff and get it down.” Sharkett echoes this too: “He was the exact producer we needed without us even realising. His productions and mixes are bombastic, lively and in your face and that’s exactly what we wanted.”

However, while this album is rooted in a sense of capturing a moment and a sparky liveness, that’s not to say it’s a raw or ragged record. It is still a meticulously composed, delicately layered and pristinely produced piece of work that, in true W.H. Lung style, runs the gauntlet from dance to pop to indie while still capturing that distinctly unique quality that is unquestionably their own. “It was a really big thing for me to realise what made us sound like us on this record,” says Sharkett. “I think the album sounds a lot more confident and self assured because of it. Some songs sound just so much like Lung and I’m really proud of that. I’m not sure we’ve done that as consistently across the other records.”

While the band have drilled deeper into finding their own singular identity, it’s not a record resting on its laurels. It’s a significant leap forward, expanding on their solid foundations while also breaking new ground. “The big difference with this record is its directness in every sense,” says Sharkett. “The songwriting is more upfront. Previously we’d focused a lot on vibe and production as opposed to just writing songs. The overall mission here was to revert to a classic songwriting structure and for the production to come afterwards.” And so what you have on this record are deeply considered and well-crafted songs, then recorded with blistering intensity in the moment, and then given a touch of experimentation afterwards. Then throw in Orton’s contributions to the band and it’s proven to be a real winning formula. “He brought a real dose of magic to the songs we’d written,” says Sharkett. “And brought an extra bit of wonk and quirkiness each time.”

The band’s ability to write more traditional and conventional songs is clearly a skill they’ve taken to with ease, at times there’s an almost Springsteen-like quality – but if he'd ever had an ecstasy period – to tracks such as ‘Thinner Wine’ and ‘Bloom and Fade’. While ‘How to Walk’ was constructed with one thing only in mind: that it would absolutely slay on stage. “I can’t wait to play this live,” says Evans. “We wanted a song to represent our live set, a new big one, and this is it.” Once again it leans towards the anthemic, with its driving, propulsive charge complete with incandescent synths and vocal melodies so irresistible you can already hear them being sung in unison by a crowd.

It’s an incredibly difficult feat to pull off a record that is more rooted in traditional songcraft while also capturing the power of a live performance, as well as pushing sonics into experimental new directions while working with a brand new collaborator. But here the band has managed to do just that. And the album’s closing song ‘I Will Set Fire To The House’ is a perfect example of such a thing. It’s a song that feels immaculately constructed but also very much alive and of the moment as its radiating synths engulf from the off, and Evans’ vocal is silky but powerful and in perfect symbiosis with Peace’s. It’s a song that captures the endless joys of music playing long into the night. “It may be a bit of a bloody bombastic way to end an album saying ‘and we’ll dance into the sunrise’,” says Evans. “But fuck it.”

MORE PRESS ON ‘VANITIES’ (MELO131)

"Vanities artily refines an exhilarating brand of up-front electro-dance" MOJO ⅘

'Idiosyncratic yet euphoric electronic pop on triumphant second LP' 9/10 Uncut

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'Dance music for the modern age' - The Times (4*)