Suche:how hard

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

“On course towards future raucous, beer-soaked headline festival
sets.” - NME
“Screw-you power, relentless motorik rhythms and impressively large
choruses.” - The Guardian
“Unrelenting, gritty energy” - Daily Star
Sprints unearth their frenzied new EP, ‘Manifesto’, out via Nice Swan
Records.
Produced by Daniel Fox of Girl Band - Dublin’s answer to Steve Albini
- the four tracks make for a hard-hitting gloom-punk journey you
can’t miss. Like the Irish guitar acts who have paved the way for
them - Fontaines D.C., Silverbacks and Girl Band - Sprints sound
urgent and vital at every turn.
‘Swimming’ is a confluence of rabble-rousing stadium rock, sleazy
garage rock and Sonic Youth experimentation. Lyrically, there’s a lot
to hang on to too, which is unsurprising given how topical the band
are: ‘Drones’ took on imposter syndrome; ‘Manifesto’ tackled
homophobia.
‘Swimming’ scorns on the increasing lack of opportunity after
following prescribed paths to become society’s idea of a ‘success’.
Sprints singer Karla Chubb explains: “While the homeless crisis
worsens, the city is sinking in debt and everyone can barely keep
their heads above water, you see an article stating that a new €25
million white water rafting centre is being developed after approval
by Dublin City Council. Sometimes you’d just rather drown.”
Sprints have hit a nerve. The velocity of this argument comes from
personal anguish but will chime with a generation. And with such
honesty running through their core it’s no wonder The Guardian,
NME and BBC Radio 1 and 6Music have tipped them for big things.
Tourdates - October 7 Roisin Dubh Galway, 8 Kasbah Limerick, 9 The
Grand Social Dublin, 21 The Waiting Room London, 23 Heartbreakers
Southampton, 26 Sneaky Pete’s Edinburgh, 27 The Attic Glasgow, 28 The
Castle Manchester, 30 The Sunflower Lounge Birmingham, 31 Bootleg Social
Blackpool, November 2 Surf Cafe Newcastle, 3 Sidney & Matilda Sheffield, 6
Mutations Festival Brighton, 7 Festival of Voice Cardiff, 9 The Shipping
Forecast Liverpool, 10 Oporto Leeds.

Donato Basile AKA DJ Plant Texture always wants his music to tell a story, and with his debut EP on Tresor Records, entitled Life, he’s now trying to tell the biggest story there is. According to the artist, “Life is about the fear of growing up”; both the anxiety itself and acknowledging and moving past it.
This narrative seems to have struck a chord with those who have heard the track, “People want to reflect themselves in the music; something personal. Lots of people have been in touch after hearing it; I guess they feel something melancholic in it. Personally, I imagine the track is like the life of a person; going from being born through childhood and youth and onwards, so perhaps they hear this?”
Having used an MPC since the early 2000s, Basile feels an intuitive connection to the hardware he uses, and so the creative process is very spontaneous: “I know where everything is so the music is made immediately. I make everything in the first ten minutes; after that if it’s not right then I just abandon it and start something else.” This immediacy, and familiarity with his equipment is apparent on the A-side, where Basile’s previous life as a drummer comes to the fore and tracks like Cycles and Ripetivo display his native understanding of groove but also how to stir things up - the three A-side tracks find classic techno rhythms seemingly falling apart only to snap back into place even stronger. The B-side finds Donato exploring more of his melodic side with WTT and the aforementioned title track showing Plant Texture’s love of breakbeat and classic techno.
The three digital bonus tracks continue this exploration of melody and syncopated beats - The EXP Days echos the wistful feeling of Life, as Basile meditates on the times spent at EXP, his record shop in Bari, which functioned as a meeting place for electronic producers in the area.

Hüma Utku returns to Editions Mego with her new album. The title Dracones makes reference to the mediaeval latin term "Hic sunt dracones" (Here be dragons), marking the unexplored, dangerous places on world maps, expressing the fear of chaos, the unexpected and the unknown.

This new work by the Istanbul sound artist is a sonic journal of an expedition into uncharted territory, one which occupies self and domesticity. Inspired by Utku’s experience of matrescence, Dracones explores the themes of familial demonology, metamorphosis and homecoming as well as human relationship to the experience of love woven layers of euphoria, alienation and consumption.

Musically, Dracones traverses a wide array of sonic tools whereby industrial sounds are imbedded with certain psychological angles, this is an album where, all matter meshes into a sly snapshot of the human experience with a tension and release exposure occurring frequently with dark corners opening up to bright layers of electronic experimentation.

The haunting opening track ‘A World Between Worlds’ tackles pregnancy, of which Utku was experiencing when making this record. The emotional, physical, spiritual and mental experience of this journey is all documented here.. This track features the ‘Lyraei’, an electromagnetic string instrument and modern interpretation of the ancient lyre, that was built and played by Mihalis Shammas. ‘Comfort of The Shadows’ moves from within to without, what was once hidden is now exposed. Utku’s ability to conjure the visual in the sonic is at the forefront as howling electronics give a distinct impression of movement. ‘A Familial Curse’ presents a desire to break the cycle of generational trauma with a creeping sense of dread that rolls into an industrial rhythm prior to landing in a beautiful place represented with shimmering guitar tones. ‘Here be Dragons’ is a rich and dark evocation, a spooked surrender to the themes of the record whereby Utku’s wildly distorted voice beckons all manner of phantasmagoria over cello and recordings of her ultrasound. ‘Care in Consume’ engages in further sonic exploration as a means of conjuring ‘matriphagy’, with its unique psychic energy coursing through electronic veins. ‘A House within a House’ could also be read as a body within a body as the pulse of ultrasound audio rattle amongst a cage of thudding rhythms and swirling electronics, one also ending in optimism as an exquisite melody is born from the prior fire. The striking journey ends with the more soothing ‘Ayaz’a’, a track embracing love and all the hardships that a period of fundamental metamorphosis brings, this is a heartfelt dedication to her son and concludes an album draped in life, experience, joy and pain.

Dracones is a deeply visual journey through inner and outer worlds, a space where symbolic evocation is supreme and passive listening is not an option.

All tracks composed,performed and recorded by Hüma Utku
Buchla 100, vocals, cello, electric guitar performed by Hüma Utku
‘’A World Between Worlds’’ features the ‘Lyraei’ built, played and recorded by Mihalis Shammas
Buchla 100 recorded in EMS Stockholm 2022-2023

Mixed by Enyang Urbiks
Mastered by Heba Kadry, NYC
Cover Artwork by Marco Ciceri
Design by Tina Frank

In the spring of 1983, members of Genesis reconvened at their studio, named The Farm in Chiddingfold, Surrey, to start work on a new studio album, their first since Abacab (1981). Genesis became their first album written, recorded, and mixed in its entirety at the studio room; previously they had to write in an adjoining space. Having the group work in their own space without the additional pressure of booking studio time and fees resulted in a more relaxed environment. They were joined by engineer Hugh Padgham, who had also worked on Abacab,

AllMusic writes: "Moments of Genesis are as spooky and arty as those on Abacab — in particular, there's the tortured howl of "Mama," uncannily reminiscent of Phil Collins' Face Value, and the two-part 'Second Home by the Sea' — but this eponymous 1983 album is indeed a rebirth, as so many self-titled albums delivered in the thick of a band's career often are. ... Anybody who paid attention to 'Misunderstanding' and 'No Reply at All' could tell that this was a good pop band, primarily thanks to the rapidly escalating confidence of Phil Collins, but Genesis illustrates just how good they could be, by balancing such sleek, pulsating pop tunes as 'That's All' with a newfound touch for aching ballads, as on 'Taking It All Too Hard.'" AllMusic reviewer Stephen Thomas Erlewine gives the album 4.5 Stars.

For fans who appreciate the evolution of the band's music over the years, owning this album is important as it represents a distinctive phase in their career.

This is the definitive deluxe 45 RPM 2LP Analogue Productions (Atlantic 75 Series) reissue of the classic Genesis. A classic for all true Genesis fans!

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

From the deepest trenches of deadstock 45s and the unsung annals of soft rock infamy, we present SR4HT02: (Till You're) Back In My Arms.

Universal Cave and the Street Road Band cover Dan Strimer with Insured Sound's cult anthem (Till You're) Back In My Arms which was originally released as a 45 in 1977 on Lost Nation Records out of Guysville, Ohio. When Universal Cave featured Back in My Arms on Soft Rock for Hard Times Vol 8 in 2023, we reached out to Dan Strimer to tell him how much we loved his record, and quickly made a friend who helped us release a cover of his song 47 years after it first came out. Dan is still making music to this day and there are even rumors of some unreleased recordings making their way out in the near future.

On vacation in Hawaii when we released Soft Rock for Hard Times Vol 8, Alex Tebbs Mitchell of Universal Cave kept coming back to Dan's catchy, rural classic rock tune. When Alex returned to Philadelphia, he assembled the Street Road Band to record a laid back, 'southwestern Balearic' cover version with André Ethier on vocals, Charles Simon on guitar, Jesse Spearhawk on Pedal Steel, Alex Tebbs Mitchell on Rhodes and bass, Ryan M. Todd on synthesizers, and Shawn Ryan and Brian Cassidy on additional programming and arrangement. The result is a blissful soft rock ballad inspired by the likes of Chris Rea and Mark Knopfler.

After recording the cover, we called in the UK's finest Balearic maestro's Coyote to take the multitracks to the White Isle and back for a remix worthy of Cafe Del Mar. Coyote send the song into a dreamy, dubby, deep house groove, confirming that the record is, in fact, Balearic.

Mixed by Alex Tebbs Mitchell
Mastered by Mat Leffler-Schulman

Reinventing himself as a vocalist on his new album 'Silver Blue', Pomrad fuses 80s fusion funk, raw electro-dance, and 90s rave grooves to craft his unique style of cosmic crooners. For Fans of Prince, Hudson Mohawke and Herbie Hancock.

Drawing inspiration from a wide range of genres, the record pays homage to the iconic African American productions of the '80s-such as Prince, One Way, the Gap Band, and Whitney Houston-while also nodding to UK-styled genres like Street Soul (The Antipode), '90s R&B (Is It True) or even grotesque 2-step (Sad Dancer).

Throughout the album, layered synth textures from instruments like the Yamaha DX7, RolandD-50, Simmons SD-5, and Korg Opsix create otherworldly atmospheres (Silver Blue), as tracks swing from the playful funk naivety of an '80s TV show intro (How It Feels) to corny synth ballads (Sweet Dear Lucky) or happy clapping turned hardstyle (Suzy Got Lost).

Pomrad wrote the songs over the past few years in his home studio in the Antwerp area. After a seven-year hiatus, following his collaboration with Onra, he returns as a fearless singer and storyteller with a distinctly Belgian surrealist flair.

It's hard to imagine El León Pardo, a loyal advocate of some of the most advanced projects in which folklore is the road map and the destination itself, without his kuisi. It's hard to see him with his hands free. Always holding on to that ancestral instrument, that pre-Colombian flute that survived the conquest and has become a symbol of resistance, overcoming the ravages of time, the imposition of ideologies, dogmas and religions. Despite all that, the kuisi continues with its liberating sound, the power of its cry, its invitation to dance, its sound a cure and a blessing. That's why it leads the way in this Viaje Sideral ("Space Voyage"), an astral journey in which the kuisi is the vehicle and the life force of the rhythm. Viaje Sideral feels like floating eternally in the infinite cosmos. This second long player from El León Pardo is inspired by humanity's relationship with the stars, escaping to mythical planes and led into a trance by Caribbean percussions, analog synths, deep bass, electric guitars and the hypnotic vibrations of the kuisis and trumpets that complete the soundtrack of this voyage. Through these nine songs, El León Pardo continues to create a sound of his own, evolving in his intention to pay tribute to the psychedelia of the tropical world of the Caribbean in the 1970s and 80s, but this time also taking as reference artists like Terry Riley, Kraftwerk and Mad Professor, including the roots of ambient and electronic music with the characteristic sound of the kuisi, an encounter of dreamlike and astral sounds, with the music of the bandas pelayeras of the tropics and figures like Pedro Laza and Juan Lara. In this new universe the Cartagena trumpeter dialogs with the past, processing the ideas that have emerged over the years and morphed into his personal search that gives an identity to his ideas, nurtured by figures like producer Diego Gómez (Llorona Records, Discos Pacífico, Cerrero) who awoke his interest in electronic instruments, Edson Velandia and kuisi maestros like Juan Carlos Medrano and Fredy Arrieta. In his sound there is a particular feature, one that contains histories of personal experiences, accompanied by the kuisi, including ancient Zenú flutes dating from between 600 and 800 AD and which helped create the atmosphere of "Invocación." "Viaje Sideral," the song that gives the album its name, was born from a dream in which two stars speed towards the earth and an imminent collision. As the record continues, the stellar connection becomes clear with songs like "Urmah" with Edson Velandia, inspired by an article about extra-terrestrial races and how the Urmah were a race of hominid felines, the greatest geneticists of the universe; and "Cumbia espacial," featuring rapping from N. Hardem, seeking to create that aura of immensity and consciousness of the infinity of the universe.

A regular of Australia’s thriving musical circuit, Kane Dignum aka Little Fritter makes his debut on Hot Creations with Dub Riddem. The EP continues an impressive 2020, that has seen the Gold Coast native’s standout productions land on the likes of Desert Hearts and etcetc already this year.

Those aforementioned features are present right from the offset, as Dub Riddem leads proceedings. A reverberating vocal keeps us hooked, before hard-hitting drums combine with a shimmering cow-bell lead to form a real dancefloor weapon. Puff Puff comes next, with prominent kicks giving way to a chuggy, up-and-down bassline, whilst lyrical samples echo in the background to create a choppy, groove-lead atmosphere. How Lucky Should We Feel? rounds things off in a similarly club-ready vein, merging resonant vocal cuts with punchy drum patterns and bringing shimmering hi-hats in tow.

Little Fritter has been a regular on the electronic music circuit for more than a decade. Having had his first release back in 2008, few artists have stayed as relevant and cutting-edge as the Gold Coast mainstay. Performances at Berlin’s Club De Visionaire and Barcelona’s Off-Sonar cemented his reputation as a respected prospect in the scene.

Florence + The Machine feiert gemeinsam mit Jules Buckley und seinem Orchester Lungs, ihr mit dem
BRIT Award ausgezeichnetes Debütalbum, das vor 15 Jahren mit großem Erfolg veröffentlicht wurde. Am
11. September 2024 wurde Symphony of Lungs bei den BBC Proms mit einer herausragenden Performance von Florence + The Machine und Jules Buckley zum Leben erweckt, die das Album Lungs in seiner
Gesamtheit neu interpretierten. Dazu gehörten die meistverkauften und bei den Fans beliebten Singles
„Dog Days Are Over“, „You’ve Got The Love“ und „Cosmic Love“ sowie Raritäten, die Florence nach
eigenen Angaben seit mindestens 15 Jahren nicht mehr gespielt hatte, darunter „Bird Song“ und „Falling“.
Jules Buckley und sein Team von Arrangeuren verwandelten das bereits wunderschön produzierte Album
in ein orchestrales und chorisches Meisterwerk.
Zusätzlich zur Live-Übertragung der Aufführung auf BBC Radio 3 wird Universal Music Recordings in
Zusammenarbeit mit der BBC die Live-Aufnahme dieser Aufführung offziell veröffentlichen, zunächst auf
digitalen Streaming-Plattformen im Oktober 2024, gefolgt von 2LP schwarz, 2LP farbig und 2CD-Formaten
im März 2025. Die physischen Produkte enthalten atemberaubende Bilder des Auftritts sowie eine herzliche
persönliche Notiz von Florence selbst.

Members went on to Sinkane, and Pompeii, This Morning. Originally recorded in the
summer of 2005 out west, while on tour, by Vince Tennant. The recording had been
shelved and unreleased. In 2023, Expert Work Records reached out to Sweetheart and
got the recording re-mastered. It will be released on limited vinyl and digital.
This is also a companion piece/ record with EW018 (Sweetheart- The Process of
Making Us Well). We highly suggest getting both records.
Sweetheart's "The Unbearable Tightness Of Being" is one of those records you should
put on your radar as soon as possible. A rediscovered artifact from 2005, the album is
a sonic panorama that intricately incorporates post- hardcore, noise rock, punk,
screamo, and indie elements into an innovative and complex sonic landscape. The
guitars, wielded with finesse, serve as the driving force behind Sweetheart's sonic
assault. From the opening chords to the closing refrains, they deliver a relentless
barrage of riffs that defy predictability. The interplay between the two guitarists
manifests as a dynamic dialogue - a musical conversation that seamlessly transitions
from chaotic dissonance to moments of clarity. Catchy, intricate, and hypnotic chord
progressions unfold, evoking the spirit of At The Drive-In and Fugazi while carving a
distinct sonic identity.
However, it's not merely about sonic assault; Sweetheart infuses the album with a
nuanced approach to melody. Amidst the aggressive riffage, this material treats
listeners with moments of harmonic beauty and unexpected melodic twists. Themes,
leads, melodies, and harmonies intermingle, creating a rich auditory experience that
transcends the boundaries of conventional post-hardcore.
The production quality of this long- lost gem further accentuates its brilliance.
Recorded in 2005 but kept in the shadows due to financial constraints and a desire for
perfection, the album has now found its moment in the sun. Expert Work's decision to
release the LP in 2024 has allowed audiences to appreciate the intelligent
craftsmanship that went into its creation.
"The Unbearable Tightness Of Being" is more than a musical journey; it's a sonic
exploration transcending all the possible sonic boundaries. Sweetheart's commitment
to experimentation and honesty, as emphasized by band members reflecting on their
creative process, is palpable. The act of listening, treated as a discipline, is evident in
the careful construction of each track - a result of repetitive practice, internalization,
and an unwavering dedication to their craft. In the grander narrative of the album's
release, the band's reflections on the passage of time and the meaning of their work
imbue the music with a poignant depth.
"The Unbearable Tightness Of Being" is a mandatory addition to any record collection.
It's not just a revival of the early 2000s scene; it's a sheer example of Sweetheart's
enduring brilliance and a celebration of a significant part of their musical legacy.

I talk quite regularly with Basic Rhythm about all sorts of topics and he regularly sends me music that he's working on, of varying styles and sounds. When he sent me Gargantua last year, there was something about it where even though it wasn't very sonically similar to a lot of the other music I've put out on Future Retro London, there was something about that piqued my interest. I played it out a few times and noticed that there was an energy to it that I enjoyed and I eventually got over my hesitations and signed it for the label. I also did my own remix of Gargantua to try out a few ideas I had for how it could sound a bit different but still maintain the spirit of the original.

Selectors Convention was initially made for a forthcoming joint label project (which is to come hopefully next year, fingers crossed) but was better suited for coming out on a release with Gargantua, as I thought it was similar in the hard edge dancefloor approach that is embodied in Gargantua. I also did a VIP of Selectors Convention, based off wanting a special version of it to play at a Future Retro London event.

Thanks to Basic Rhythm for Gargantua (and letting me remix it) as well as supplying the source images for the artwork.

The complete album - pressed on limited edition 180g vinyl

Tenor saxophonist Ben Webster (1909 - 1973) had already enjoyed a long and fruitful
career by the time this 1957 session was recorded. However, as Bob Blumenthal
explains in the original liner notes, he still wasn't known for the sensual ballad feeling
that became his trademark during the last two decades of his life. At that time, he was
still recognized for the hard blowing fast tenor sax style he played with both the Duke
Ellington Orchestra and his own multiple small groups.
Even though his repertoire was generally linked to that of Duke Ellington, this classic
Norman Granz produced session presents Webster playing four popular ballads and
two of his own bluesy compositions, Soulville and Late Date. On hand in support are
the incredible Oscar Peterson Trio (Herb Ellis, Ray Brown), and drummer Stan Levey.
"The by turns grizzled and vaporous-toned Webster really hit his stride on the Verve
label. This 1957 date with the Oscar Peterson Trio is one of the highlights of that
golden '50s run. After starting off with two bluesy originals, Webster gets to the heart
of things on five wistful ballads. Providing sympathetic counterpoint, Peterson
forgoes his usual pyrotechnics for some leisurely compact solos; his cohorts -
guitarist Herb Ellis, bassist Ray Brown, and drummer Stan Levey - are equally assured
and splendid. Newcomers shouldn't hesitate to start here." - ***** Stephen Cook,
AllMusic

Recorded in 1958, this album showcases Chet Baker’s undeniable charm as both a singer and trumpeter, embodying the essence of cool jazz. Accompanied by an elegant trio featuring Kenny Drew on piano, George Morrow on bass, and Philly Joe Jones on drums, Baker revisits standards with disarming grace. His soft, melancholic voice shines on tracks like “Do It the Hard Way” and “Everything Happens to Me,” where each note feels suspended in time. His airy trumpet subtly converses with Drew’s piano, creating moments of pure musical poetry. A must-listen for fans of intimate and refined jazz.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.