Buscar:how hard

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

What began as a nostalgic nod to Camden Market’s bootleg culture has become the next chapter of in the Running Back Mastermix series. At once deeply personal and openly communal, it shows how a lifetime of production can be condensed into 90 minutes without losing its edge — proof that the mixtape, even in 2025, still has stories left to tell.
What followed was a patient excavation. Old DATs were pulled out of storage, forgotten files surfaced from hard drives, and new material was written to sit alongside them.
Together, these fragments revealed a body of work stretching back more than 25 years — tracks that moved across the spectrum of house and techno but shared a common thread of character and atmosphere.
In May of this year, the archive finally found its form. Recorded live on three decks using Serato, the resulting mix brings together 24 tracks: unreleased material from the past and brand new productions, all stitched together into a continuous narrative. It’s equal parts retrospective and statement of intent — less a museum piece than a living document.
Here the vinyl edition features a curated selection of 11 tracks from the mix.

As a label, we are specialists in musical diversity. With our newest installment of the annual System 108 compilation we present you two parts of hand picked creative output by our friends, residents and dearest guests. Curated by the artist Ira Bespalova, the concept of both parts is simple and deep: the good, the calm, the kind is part 1 and all anti-heroes, filthy electro-armored jams is part 2. All together - another twist of the planet, another beat of our big heart, that became shelter and home home for a whole new tribe. It pumps, it creates, unites and warms up, kicks it real hard, no matter how tough it is. Part 1 is densely populated by our new kids on the block! Isktrit, TURBOSH, BORIS REDWALL, DJ Yesyes, Dominique Mara have been releasing singles, EP's and album during 2023 and became an integral part of the collective. Here you will also find good old friends Maksimovna, Lipelis, Kito Jempere. Very special Siberian inspired trippy workout by RLGN and Sasha Kustov, Luchshiy Drug. And a super special guest appearance starring Magnus Opus and mo?se?. The running order is curated as a narrative, as an album that takes you on a journey. But separately, it all works as singles, DJ tracks and tools. Welcome to Nine Years Of Love!

The Sator Arepo, or Sator Square, is an ancient word puzzle comprising five palindromes that's etched on various historical sites throughout the Western world. Its origins are unknown, but the square has long been thought to hold magical properties, used as a charm against illness and evil, to cure insanity or to determine whether someone was guilty of witchcraft. Self-styled "punk ethnomusicologist", acoustician and musician Julien Hairon uses this mystical symbol as the starting point for his debut Judgitzu album in an attempt to reconnect with his Celtic heritage, exploring how its hallowed messages might harmonize with contemporary Tanzanian dance music.Hairon has been traveling across the world for over a decade, collecting field recordings from countries such as Indonesia, Australia, Cambodia, China and Bangladesh, and presenting them on his Les Cartes Postales Sonores label, re-issuing any curious cassettes and CDs he came across on the PetPets' TAPES imprint. It was during this time that he became fascinated by rituals that involved spirits, prompting him to examine his own ancestry when he returned to Brittany. "Many artifacts in the landscape remain," Hairon explains, "and the power of spirits is still palpable." He represents this Celtic mysticism on 'Sator Arepo' with murky drones and magickal synth tones, using xenharmonic scales (tuning outside of standard 12-tone equal temperament) that reach back to the ancient world. These sounds are augmented with fast-paced, sci-fi rhythms informed by his time in Tanzania; "Singeli has contaminated me," admits the producer.The most astonishing example of this is 'Miracle', a thrusting soundsystem experiment that layers serpentine, bagpipe-esque electronic wails over extravagant clusters of blocky percussion. Driven by the frenetic 175BPM pulse that echoes through the streets of Dar Es Salaam - popularized globally by forward-thinking producers like Sisso, Duke and Jay Mitta - Hairon opens up a rare conversation, seeking to draw parallels between today's most urgent dance forms and the archaic rituals of antiquity. On 'Vitalimetre', Hairon drives his sonic palette into the red, harmonizing with Dutch hardstyle and gabber, and splaying distorted drones over maddeningly blown-out kicks and ratcheting percussion. 'L'or Des Fous' takes a more meditative route, prioritizing Hairon's eccentric tonality with expressive sheets of pitch-warped sound that ghost walk across energized, rattling beats.If you heard Hairon's last Judgitzu release 'Umeme / Kelele', described by Boomkat as "one of 2019's deadliest dancefloor sessions," then you'll know how mindboggling this material can be. And with 'Sator Arepo', the French producer deepens his reach, grasping a world that we've almost forgotten and juxtaposing it with a landscape most of us barely comprehend.

Jessica93, prodigal bastard of our glorious french squat scene, relocated on Born Bad : this is no picnic. Geoffroy Laporte, alone against all odds, alternates bass and guitar to build harsh loops with a drum machine spitting pre-Gulf War patterns. That’s where it gets tricky : every musical posse claims him. Grunge, sure, but Jessica doesn’t indulge in necrophilia. His circuit is punk, he doesn’t dress the part though. Cold wave, the atmosphere fits somehow, but the gear does not. The self-confident rock horde saw him playing with hair in his eyes… but he never joined the Party. Metal had something to say but sadly, nobody listened. Maybe it's time to give it a rest and let Jessica93 cook his great misery broth on her own, called « 666 tours de périph’ » (666 laps on the beltway). Witnessing Jessica93 live makes you dread that he'll get up the next morning, drive 200 miles and one nap later kick it again, when it takes us a good week to recover from the bad half of that same evening. Like so many other unknown soldiers during our very own world war of music, he patrols small venues relentlessly.



At the heart of this cultural pentacle painted by french weirdos Bryan's Magic Tears, and Carine Krinator, Jessica93 has built a sound validated by years of chosen vagrancy, birthing bands with joyously stupid monikers, in the humid jungle of small labels. Jessica93's debut album had a track celebrating Omar Little, HBO’s gay bandit from Baltimore. This story begins on the beltway, where Florence Rey, accidental copkiller turned to political icon of the 90’s. Geoffroy offers his brilliant analysis : " C’est la police qui nous tire d’ssus / C’est mon trou d’balle qui leur chie d’ssus « (Police shoots us down / my dripping asshole gets the job done).



A previous album was haunted by bedbugs, this one is essentially about love, a delicious scourge just as hard to eradicate. Two black diamonds peek out of the LP : ’’La colline du crack’’, heartbreak song about the ultimate temptation of violent delights, located on crackhead central in Paris. The brilliant chorus, ‘Take my hand and come with me to Crack Hill’ will put an end to the rumours, almost everything was really false. And Bébé Requin, alternative obituary that’ll make you shiver, where our nice couple states ‘’on kiffe la drogue dure et les ptits chiens’ (‘we love hard drugs and little dogs’). And that is the reason we face the wall of sound jostled by unnecessary shoulder thrusts: those nice fat chunks of charcoal poetry, hidden under light sarcasm.



The rest of the record demonstrates the know-how acquired in loop-by-loop construction of ruins that are pleasant to squat in together. There’s your classic doom delicatessen, with bits of heavy metal inside, crafted with the manic care typical of hard wankers. Arthur Satàn, who produced and mixed the album at home in Bordeaux, helped him get his head out of the reverb safe house. And Jessica93 took the opportunity to switch to the dark side of the language : french at last. Worth the wait ! Sing along : « nique sa mère / nique sa grosse mère » (translate that yourself).

Erik K Skodvin's feature-length score to Thomas Roth's thriller "Schächten" feels like the epitome of all his musical projects, conjuring a dark cinematic trip through 1960's post-WWII Vienna in a film that touches on topics such as law, justice & revenge.

Releasing a soundtrack as a stand-alone album can be challenging; and "Schächten" is by no means a typical listening experience. The record contains 24 more or less short pieces evolving through dramatic movements, underlaying menace and deep emotive scenes. One thing that stands out is the linear atmosphere throughout the story which creates a wholeness that keeps your attention to the very end. Set in wintery Austrian landscapes in dimly saturated colours, the film's dramatic events with dark political undertones feels like a perfect situation for Skodvin's atmospheric collages - perhaps sounding closer than ever to his early works as Svarte Greiner or Deaf Center. Cello, violin, piano, analogue synth and plenty of hardly recognizable instrumentation come together in a record that feels very organic in its subdued tones. The score also features percussion by Andrea Belfi as well as a Chopin piano interpretation by Kelly Wyse to the bizarrely schizophrenic piece "Judenfreund".

With the contemporary world sliding into darkness again, listening to the soundtrack feels like coming to terms with ones own anxieties - something that in the end comes through as a cleansing experience. As quoted in the film "Everyone is their own devil. And we make this world our hell".

Short synopsis : "Vienna 1960s - The young Jewish business man Victor has to witness how the prosecution of a Nazi crime against his family fails. The political and legal system is still virtually run by former Nazis with large parts of society being entangled in the past. When Victor also loses his grief ridden father and his girlfriend’s family opposes their relationship and his identity, Victor begins to loose faith in formal justice and takes matters in his own hands."

The Pitch is a quartet made up of Boris Baltschun, Koen Nutters, Michael Thieke and Morten Joh. Founded in Berlin in 2009, they play a hypnotic form of structured improvisation full of acoustic exploration and electronic intervention. On Neutral Star, The Pitch are joined by Australian guitarist/composer extraordinaire Julia Reidy for a record of star gazing electro-acoustic jazz.

Reidy's playing and compositional technique between Takoma-style fingerpicking and Glenn Branca'esque microtonality, perfectly complements the loose improvisational framework The Pitch is providing. Endless ≠ Limitless, a recent piece by Reidy and Joh, is transformed from a washed-out/obscured tape delay composition into a colorful, meandering ensemble piece with a swarming character - blooming with intrigue for the patient ear. The B-side strikes a more gentle tone: the 24-minute Neutral Star begins with a siren-like overtone whose drone-like flowing slowly morphs into a deterritorial modality with jazzy undertone. Accompanied by constant eruptions of vibraphone, clarinet, electronics and double bass punctuation – while permanently questioned by Reidy's drippingly pearly steel guitar work. Slowly evolving into new territories through the expansive instrumentation and keen listening between the players.

The fact that Neutral Star was recorded in one take (by Rabih Beaini in his Morphine Raum studio/venue) in front of a live audience and without overdubs is hard to believe, even for the trained ear. The recording appears to be too multilayered for a single snapshot, with its compositional structures constantly shifting and moving against themselves, counterintuitively and anti-cyclically. Reidy´s playing has been described as "unstable harmonic territory, and the collaboration with The Pitch interprets this concept brilliantly - adding further non-places to the territory. And the listener, however, is never left alone in the process of tectonic shifts - at least as long as their listening is attentive and contemplative at once.

In This Moment is an American rock band from Los Angeles, California, formed by singer Maria Brink
and guitarist Chris Howorth in 2005.
Their seventh studio album, Mother was released in 2020.

The band have received two nominations of Alternative Press Music Awards, including two for Best Hard Rock Artist and
one for Best Live Band. They have also received a Grammy nomination for Best Metal Performance.
Mother is available as a numbered limited edition of 1000 copies on white coloured vinyl.
This 2LP comes in a gatefold sleeve and contains a 4 page booklet.

Unknown Waveforms is the forthcoming album from Belgian trio KAU, set for release on October 10, 2025. Marking an evolution since their 2023 release The Cycle Repeats, this new record captures a more personal, immediate, and unfiltered version of the band's sound. In an increasingly digital world, KAU takes a different route, with an album rooted in human connection, live energy, and creative spontaneity. Here, the trio reflect their take on instrumental music, drawing heavily fromjazz, hip hop, and electronic influences.

At the heart of Unknown Waveforms lies the starting point of three musicians in a room, writing and composing music on the spot. For KAU, this idea mirrors their working method: long jam sessions, free-flowing experimentation, and shared moments of inspiration. Songs often take shape slowly, unfolding over hours or days, but always built collaboratively as a trio.

The album's title reflects the mystery behind how music comes together, but is also both literal and symbolic. Unknown waveforms are the sounds that arise when machines and people interact in unpredictable ways. Whether you're an experienced musician or just starting out, the creative process often feels elusive and hard to fully understand. But there are also certain moments: creative sparks that can't be planned or programmed. It ends up being more than notes, gear, or structure, it's about the process, the tension and energy that builds when people connect and create in the same room.

The title track, Unknown Waveforms, captures that exact process. It opens with a quote from synth pioneer Wendy Carlos: "I'm just trying to show you how we get some of these sounds", inviting listeners directly into the creative space. The track focuses less on a polished outcome and more on the moment before a song is "finished": it's a portrait of experimentation, feeling, and raw expression.

This commitment to honesty permeates the entire album. KAU kept overdubs to a minimum, avoided excessive editing, and prioritized spontaneous choices over calculated ones. In a time when the future of live, improvised music feels uncertain, they double down on the physical, the real, and the immediate. The album resists the pristine polish of modern production, favoring the warmth and imperfection of analog synthesis. The band embraces the character of their instruments, particularly vintage gear, where subtle flaws add beauty, depth, and personality.

One standout track, cr_eye, is driven by the Moog Subphatty-a key instrument in the band's toolkit for its analog warmth and powerful sub-bass. The track centers around the conversation between bass and drums, allowing the keyboards to recede and create space. It draws emotional threads from earlier KAU tracks like Kampala and Kautokeino, bridging past and present with a shared atmosphere and rhythmic interplay.

Another highlight, Stratford, finds inspiration in London's transport system and the UK jazz scene that has long influenced KAU. A field recording snippet of the London Underground kicks off the track, connecting it to the rhythm of everyday commutes. Built around a hypnotic sequencer line from the Roland JX-3P, the track evokes the motion of a metro journey. Artists like Nubya Garcia, Yussef Dayes, and Alfa Mist, giants of the scenethat the band has admired for years, resonate subtly throughout.

Above all, Unknown Waveforms is a statement of intent from KAU: a celebration of imperfection, creative honesty and an insight in the process.

Tribute album to a lost brillant artist, gone too soon...
This double LP delivers his timeless classics, all remastered, eight stunning remixes by six artists, and a exclusive unreleased track.
A must-have for collectors and Hardcore fans.

Tribute album to a lost brillant artist, gone too soon...
This double LP delivers his timeless classics, all remastered, eight stunning remixes by six artists, and a exclusive unreleased track.
A must-have for collectors and Hardcore fans.

World of Echo unites with the confounding genius of TRii for a highly limited first time vinyl run of 2020's Music For Desert Reboot tape, first released as TRj on the TRjj Musik label and then again as a second cassette by Mascarpone earlier this year.

As with all the sounds produced within the TRjj/TRii /TRj/TRi universe, strange illusion is part of the process, and this is certainly music that befits such smoke and mirror nomenclature, a kind of gamelan Werkbund re-programmed via the isolationist sounds of DIY home electronics conceived for a film that might or might not actually exist. Consider this time-dilation rug-pulling that's well in touch with its own mythology, so much so that it's hard to think of any obvious contemporaries, but if you've ever enjoyed the minimalist murk of Civlistijavel, the private quarters confessionals of Thomas Bush's first LP or any one of Guy Gormley's projects, you'll not got too far wrong here. Is further clarification required? That perhaps misses the point, though there is a track that features around two-thirds in entitled 'First Time Realizing the Clock Was Absent' that might function as a form of instruction to the listener. Namely, where does the time go? Music For Desert Reboot might not provide the answer, but it certainly knows how to ask the question.

"I stood on top of the mountain and looked out over the landscape. It was so beautiful that my chest hurt. The light vibrated, time stood still, and the contours dissolved for a moment. Everything had changed; I felt it then. I took their little hands so as not to lose contact with the ground. Then we ran down the mountain, scraping our knees. Still, we didn't make it. You had already put away all the nautical charts, loosened the moorings and steered out among the skerries. Mum stood waving from the jetty. You were alone, you wanted it that way. It was to be just you in the boat this time. I called out to you. I think you heard me and felt less lonely. We couldn't carry each other anymore, no matter how hard we tried. We washed our wounds on the shore and scattered tears and rose petals in the bay. The children laughed and searched for treasures under water. We called to them that it was time to come up. They were cold, and we hugged them to warmth. One ran ahead, the other up on our shoulders. Up the mountain, our mountain."

In 2020 Anna Högberg put her widely celebrated band Anna Högberg Attack on hold, retraining as a nurse whilst continuing a solo practice and playing in other groups. With Ensamseglaren she makes a spectacular return with her own ensemble — this time a double sextet — performing an album length suite of new music written in dedication to her late father — the titular ‘ensamseglaren’ pictured on the LP cover as a young boy.

 (ensam in Swedish can mean both alone and lonely, seglaren = the sailor).

Shot through with renewed energy and a brutally affective emotional punch, Högberg’s formal experimentation opens up vibrant possibilities for the assembled musicians to let loose with some of their wildest and most ecstatic playing on record.

Högberg’s contention with grief leans into collective joy as method of mourning — the big band as extended family; where bonds are made through a shared experience of being together. Where everyone gets to be themselves without expectations of who they should be or what they can do. It’s a radical commitment to care — of her self and others — that animates and unifies this suite of music’s radical dynamics and variations in colour: from whisper-quiet textural intensity to harrowing distortion and double drum chaos; raucous and solemn song.

"Throughout history, humans have had different images of the transition between life and death. Imagine standing on the seashore on a summer evening and seeing a beautiful vessel being prepared for departure. The sails are hoisted. The evening breeze comes, the sails fill and the boat glides out onto the open sea. You follow it with your eyes as it heads towards the sunset. It gets smaller and smaller, until it finally disappears as a tiny dot on the horizon. Then you hear someone next to you say, ‘Now they have left us.’ Left us for what? The fact that they got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared is only how we see it. In reality, they are just as big and beautiful as when they were here, lying on the beach by our side. Just as you hear that voice say ‘Now they have left us’, there may be someone on another beach who sees them appear on the horizon, someone waiting to welcome them when they reaches their new port."

The Keith Tippett Group's Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening is a landmark in cutting edge fusion/avant-jazz. A vital and profoundly adventurous Jazz-Rock record that still swings very hard, it was first released on Vertigo in 1971.

Original copies are now very tricky to score and, as most of you really should know, it’s aged ridiculously well.

A legendary work, this Be With re-issue has been newly remastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, demonstrating just why this deserves to be back in press. The stunning gatefold jacket fully restores Roger and Martyn Dean's original, arresting album artwork to complete this must-have reissue.

Alive and bursting with a joyful energy that has to be heard to be believed, Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening flirts with perfection. It's truly magical and forever essential.

A brilliant jazz pianist, composer, arranger and bandleader "who could make the outlands of modern music feel like the most hospitable of places" (The Guardian), Keith Tippett's second album is oft-regarded as his Canterbury album.

Indeed, not only does he draw heavily on Soft Machine members past, present and future but the album title itself archly references a Soft Machine composition. Ray Babbington handles bass alongside Neville Whitehead and the drums are shared between Brian Spring (Nucleus), Robert Wyatt(!) and Phil Howard (who would go on to replace Wyatt in Soft Machine). Gary Boyle (Isotope) is on guitar whilst the great percussionist Tony Uter is enlisted for his conga and cow bell expertise. Elton Dean on Alto Saxello, cornetist Marc Charig and Nick Evans on trombone round out this quite stunning ensemble.

Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening presents a collective of superhuman musicians really, *really* enjoying themselves in the studio. The sheer exuberance of the performance is totally infectious. It's wild, energetic, atmospheric and, bluntly, bordering on chaotic at points. In a word, it's beautiful.

Robert Wyatt's drumming opens the record with a bang on the majestic Be With favourite "This Is What Happens". Some have described his work here as "easily the most inspired of his career on record." It's an ultra-funky conga-driven groove that truly sparks via the duelling interplay between the three horn players. In the background, Keith's insistent piano, in conversation with those unignorable drums, is the anchor that keeps this piece rollicking away. Breathtaking.

The epic, energetic "Thoughts to Geoff" is a 10-minute jammer that tends towards the dissonant and improvisational but becomes more fluid, laconic and melodic as it unravels. The interplay between soloists and ensembles is particularly dazzling here - blazing solos by Evans, Charig and Tippett himself in a flourish of angular arpeggios interspersed with chordal elocution. Phew.

Up next, the no less-urgent Mingus-referencing "Green and Orange Night Park" is a soaring example of ambitious jazz mixed with rock aggression, with Dean strutting his stuff by launching into a scorching solo. An absolutely jaw-dropping piece. Arguably the highlight of this album of huge highlights!

Though much of the album tends to fall on the raucous side ("Gridal Suite" approaches free-jazz at its most chaotic and, dare we say it, "difficult"), there are a few more sedate, at times spacey numbers, such as the deeply impressionistic "Five After Dawn". The rhythmically complex "Black Horse" is the most accessible track here, a sort of swinging Big Band number with tight grooves, soaring horn & reed melodies, a sizzling Boyle guitar solo and tasty electric piano riffs from Tippett. An hypnotic climax to a staggering record.

This Be With edition of Dedicated to You, But You Weren't Listening has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at Abbey Road Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning gatefold sleeve has been restored in all its brainchild glory so you know you're dealing with the definitive reissue, here. Now, are you listening?

Metatone is a tonic-containing substance used to help restore health and vitality after illnesses or when you are feeling tired. A metaphor, which perfectly describes Ement's debut album - a mixture of peak-time electro/techno tunes spiced up with the modern traces of EBM, which perfectly fits clubs and festivals. It is a personal dancefloor experience materialization of a non-stop party rebel, who started his music production journey in the periphery and got inspired by his brother's hard dance production experiments. After an intensive exploration of the local and foreign club scene through years of intensive djing, remixing and never-ending afterhours, Ement finalized his recent definition of dance, which launches on the new co-curated PZ Records label.
An unexpected break and a long-lasting limbus of the dancefloor consumption turned out as a perfect slot to reveal one of many underestimated Lithuanian producers, who are too shy and too critical to themselves. It's no fiction, as "How Much Is Too Much" was already noticed and compiled by Dave Clark in his "Whitenoise" radio show.

“New York’s Harlem River Drive is a dividing line, a highway where the rich zip past the poor,” says singer Jimmy Norman. Eddie Palmieri’s Latin-funk band of the same name tackled these hard truths, playing prisons and speaking to the common man. Ultimately, Norman and Palmieri made a powerful socio-political statement that continues to resonate to this day." Pablo Yglesias/Wax Poetics. When initially released in 1971, many critics panned Eddie Palmieri’s album Harlem River Drive. Those critics were wrong. Regardless of critical opinion, the release was not the crossover success Palmieri and Roulette Records had hoped for, at least in the immediate. Over the years the release has developed a following among listeners, DJs, and aficionados of rare-grooves. The record may have been recorded towards the end of the Latin soul era, yet it features that genre's wonderful mix of Puerto Rican soul, Spanish Harlem Latin, and New York funk. Palmieri worked with an incredibly talented crew of Latin and R&B session musicians to create this quintessential New York vibe, a synthesis of funk and Afro-Cuban sounds. Contributors include Victor Venegas from Mongo Santamaria’s band, Palmieri’s brother Charlie, an accomplished musician in his own right, Bruce Fowler who went on to join Frank Zappa’s band, Dick Meza who went on to great things with Tito Puente, Ray Barretto and Celia Cruz, as well as Andy Gonzalez who’s pedigree includes recordings with Barretto, Johnny Pacheco, Willie Colon and even Chico O’Farrill. Also appearing Randy Brecker and one of the all-time greatest of the greats Bernard Purdy. An over-arching theme of Harlem River Drive is the thought that, as Palmieri puts it “The U.S. is richest country, all this immense wealth, side by side with the most intense poverty, racial prejudice; how is that possible?” A question that’s perhaps more even more relevant today than it was in 1971. A question that can be further explored with Get On Down’s reissue of this seminal recording.

The successor to 2022"s Bajascillators glides easily into frame, but once there, Inland See is deceptively immediate. It"s so dialed in, you hardly even feel how present the music (and you the listener) is. Time wharping"s always been a resident magic for Bitchin Bajas, as is flow, which is translucent like water here. That"s the Inland See vibe, unique unto itself. In turn, each of the four songs here are entirely within themselves, all together forming an essential whole. The coincision"ll cause yer breath to shorten, like an exciting and non-fatal kind of exercise! New freedoms, yet more molecular structure in each one. With every successive Bitchin Bajas release, we see that the real key for them is a sense of discovery, that tingle that comes when you feel something breakíing through. The sky opening up. The stuff that fills this Inland See holds you up powerfully, as if you"re floating, saltwater or helium-wise - effervescent, effortless, elemental.

The successor to 2022"s Bajascillators glides easily into frame, but once there, Inland See is deceptively immediate. It"s so dialed in, you hardly even feel how present the music (and you the listener) is. Time wharping"s always been a resident magic for Bitchin Bajas, as is flow, which is translucent like water here. That"s the Inland See vibe, unique unto itself. In turn, each of the four songs here are entirely within themselves, all together forming an essential whole. The coincision"ll cause yer breath to shorten, like an exciting and non-fatal kind of exercise! New freedoms, yet more molecular structure in each one. With every successive Bitchin Bajas release, we see that the real key for them is a sense of discovery, that tingle that comes when you feel something breakíing through. The sky opening up. The stuff that fills this Inland See holds you up powerfully, as if you"re floating, saltwater or helium-wise - effervescent, effortless, elemental.

First time reissue of this French cold-wave / minimal-synth treasure.



November 1981 – In the heart of autumn, we set off in two cars along the Nationale 1 (!) to reach Choisy-le-Roi, where a 16-track studio was waiting for us—a place where, over the course of a weekend, we would finally be able to carve our own grooves into vinyl. We were quite nervous, as Guerre Froide had already been around for a year and a half. Our elders in Kas Product had already released two EPs—one with four tracks, the other with three—in 1980, even though they’d started only a few months before us. Admittedly, there wasn’t really a sense of urgency—some of us came from the punk movement, where the prevailing mood was still very much No Future, even if we’d long since stopped believing in it... And yet others had truly lost everything, like those from the generation before us. The reasons, ironically, were often the same: heroin and/or love—hard drugs, in both cases.

Speaking of which, I had a terrible stomach ache—due to nerves or some form of tension—which forced us to make a pit stop in the Oise region so I could rush to the toilet of a local café. That same stomach discomfort would hit me again once we arrived at the studio—whose name, incidentally, I’ve since forgotten...

We had gotten there thanks to the generous initiative of a friend, Sylvain S., known as “Perlin” (what a phonetic coincidence!?), who had specifically created the Stechak Products label to produce our record. Stechak because it was consistent with his earlier association called Tchernoziom, and Products as a plural tribute to the trailblazers from Nancy.

Guerre Froide originally consisted of four members: Fabrice Fruchart on guitar-synth (Korg MS-20), Patrick Mallet on bass, and Gilbert Deffais, known as “Bébert”, on Korg drum machine. At the time, I was already singing in a rock/post-punk band called Stress, and that’s how Guerre Froide picked up the bad habit of rehearsing in the same basement in Amiens as Stress. Within a month or two, we had half a dozen songs. We then had the opportunity to record a 4-track demo with a friend from Radio France Picardie, and to perform in October at a festival held at the Amiens municipal circus. Then came the now-legendary concert on November 11 at B.J.’s Club. After that, we self-produced and released 50 completely DIY copies of a cassette titled Cicatrice. A few concerts later—after Jean-Michel Bailleux had joined us on bass and Patrick had switched to guitar, which felt more natural to him—and with more concrete plans starting to take shape, we had to find a new rehearsal space and start renting a room.

Then came the moment when Fabrice told us he was leaving to go study in Lille... After the June 19, 1981 concert, which was naturally dubbed “Farewell to 2F,” Marie-José, Bébert’s wife, offered to take over on synth.

That’s when Perlin, who was a close friend of the Deffais couple and a great fan of our music, offered to fully finance the production of a 4-track 12-inch EP—covering the studio time, mastering, pressing, and artwork. What up-and-coming band would have turned that down? An improvised contract was signed with each member of Guerre Froide. The first step was choosing which four songs we would record. Berlin 81 was an obvious pick, having already become the group’s flagship track. We wanted to avoid reusing songs from Cicatrice, so the focus shifted to new material—some written before, some after Fabrice’s departure. Ersatz, for example, was his composition, but Mauve and Peine Perdue, which were also selected, were both written by Patrick.