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Since its creation in 2007, Hifiklub has led more than 150 collaborations which have allowed the Toulon trio to open its music to multiple artistic experiences revealing a constant desire for research and novelty. From unprecedented encounters to unique projects, Hifiklub has developed over the years a now substantial discography whose musical proposals range from pop to jazz through the most experimental sounds and even traditional music. One path, however, remained unexplored: contemporary music."Last Party On Earth" is organized around the association of three energies: contemporary composer Jean-Michel Bossini, singer Duke Garwood and the instrumental ensemble Hifiklub.

Surrounded by mysticism and darkness, the creation has cinematographic dimensions. It positions the listener in a depth and disposition of soul where the voice - and the poetry - of Duke Garwood is carried by Hifiklub and Jean-Michel Bossini around cold and tormented atmospheres. The album seduces by the detail of its sounds, its apparent tranquility and its intimate atmospheres thwarted by harsh flashes.

Mixed by Alain Johannes (Queens of the Stone Age, Them Crooked Vultures, Eleven), the album sees the exceptional participation of the string trio Anpapié (Alice Piérot, Fanny Paccoud and Elena Andreyev) who magnificently perform the score by Jean-Michel Bossini.

All songs performed by Hifiklub, Duke Garwood and trio Anpapié (conducted by Jean-Michel Bossini)

Pascal Abbatucci Julien – drums, percussion
Eléna Andreyev – cello
Jean-Loup Faurat – guitar
Duke Garwood - vocals, guitar
Régis Laugier – bass
Nico Morcillo – guitar
Alice Piérot – violin
Fanny Paccoud – alto

Collaboration is an essential ingredient to this open trio’s creative approach, forming a recurring theme in Hifiklub’s extensive discography and filmography. Based in Toulon, the hyperactive experimental rock band offer a diverse ever-evolving catalogue that now boasts over 150 artist collaborations since they started in 2006. Over the years they have formed as many fruitful artistic friendships allowing them to explore the endless possibilities of expression combining sound, image and text.

Some of the artists that feature in Hifiklub’s kaleidoscopic discography: Lee Ranaldo (Sonic Youth), Alain Johannes (Queens of the Stone Age, Them Crooked Vultures, Eleven), Roddy Bottum (Faith no More, Imperial Teen), Matt Cameron (Pearl Jam, Soundgarden), The Legendary Tigerman, Jad Fair (Half Japanese), Iggor Cavalera (Sepultura, MixHell), Jean-Marc Montera, R. Stevie Moore, Mike Watt (Minutemen, The Stooges), Fatso Jetson, Nels Cline (Wilco), Scanner, Mike Cooper, Eugene Chadbourne…

In 1977, in the midst of a period of political turmoil and social unrest that went down in Italian history as "years of lead", screenwriter and director Massimo Pirri made a film no one else had the courage to make: Italia: ultimo atto? (Could It Happen Here?). Here, Pirri explores the controversial (and, in the 70s, very current) topic of left-wing armed struggle. He does so through a storyline that is almost prophetic: in the film, a mysterious ultra-leftwing armed group plans and executes the killing of the Ministry of the Interior; in 1978 Christian Democrat leader and former premier Aldo Moro was kidnapped and killed by the Marxist-Leninist Red Brigades).

The violence of Pirri's storyline is fully captured by the score composed by Lallo Gori, who uses obscure synths, analog keyboards, and dry-sounding acoustic drums to create an extremely tense and frenzied soundscape of electronic textures.

The result is an album that combines dark, haunting jazz-funk with ambient atmospheres and suspenseful electronic sounds, and which ends up sounding like an instrumental proto-hip hop record where Moog synths take the lead together with drums.

At the time, this must have seemed like a low-budget, ramshackle soundtrack – essentially, a B-movie soundtrack. Indeed, the extensive use of electronic sounds was meant to compensate for the lack of acoustic instruments, such as the bass or (alas!) brass, which were replaced by keyboards and MiniMoog synths. Today, however, Lallo Gori's odd and minimalistic style of arranging makes this score sound unexpected, avant-garde, and innovative. In short, modern and contemporary.

Previously unreleased in any format, all tracks have been remastered from the original master tapes.

For its 20th anniversary, Keplar presents an absolute milestone in the history of IDM and ambient music for the first time in its definite form: »Together Is the New Alone« by Donnacha Costello was originally released on Mille Plateaux in 2001 as the second LP under the Irish producer’s given name and firmly established him as one of the leading artists in the field of forward-thinking electronic music after he had primarily made a name for himself with house and techno releases under the Jayrod moniker. This vinyl reissue with an entirely new artwork comprises all ten tracks originally only included on the CD version in their edited and final form in which they were last presented on the digital re-release under the name »Together,« remastered by Stephan Mathieu and self-published by Costello, in 2015.

Truly prescient artists rarely opt for introspective sounds, however that was the case when Costello set out to produce »Together Is the New Alone« during nightly session in his hometown Dublin between April and July in 2001, and it also explains the album’s enduring appeal and unwavering radiance twenty years on. While many of his contemporaries dedicated themselves to explore the musical zeitgeist and notions of the future in conceptual terms, Costello made them emotionally tangible, allowing his audience to feel their underlying ambiguity rather than just reflect on it. »Together Is the New Alone« is an album that wordlessly speaks of the paradoxical sense of social alienation and isolation expressed by its title and thus seems even more topical today than it did at the time of its release.

Working with elements from techno culture, glitch aesthetics, intricate IDM rhythms and lush ambient textures, Costello never once throughout the album adheres to tried and tested formulas and conventions, but holistically moulds complex compositions out of distinct and discrete parts. The result is a record that is at once easily accessible and deeply affecting, but also infinitely rich and stunningly sophisticated in musical terms. A personal record expressing a universal sentiment—a truly timeless statement that will reverberate for decades to come.

(Kristoffer Cornils)

Originally released as a limited yellow vinyl LP in April 2021, this debut from Taiwan’s psych-heads Dope Purple quickly sold out and gained immediate cult appreciation. Now recut and reissued on swanky transparent lavender coloured vinyl. For fans of Acid Mothers Temple, Les Rallizes Denudes, Asian psych etc

'Grateful End’ in their own words ...

"Grateful End" is our album release in 2019 in the form of CD and cassette.

The title "Grateful End" clearly shows that this is our album with the theme of "End", such as "The Last Day of Humanity" and “Good Night, Good Death" are two of our songs with the theme of "End". However, this album also has another theme of " Live", in fact most of the songs on this album are based on our imagination of "Live". “End" is not the antonym of “Live”, "End" is just one of the stages of “Live”, in other words “End" is also our “Live”. “Grateful End" is a meaningful “End" for people struggling to “Live”. It is only when the “End" comes together with “Live” that we can find significance in it and pay attention to how people face the “End" of “Live”. The End of something enables us to understand “Live”.

Most of the tracks for Grateful End was recorded in 2018, before the epidemic, so our music doesn't reflect the situation of epidemic, but there was a time in 2020 when I thought about the reality that humanity was facing the last day of humanity. Thanks to the efforts of many people, humanity is not yet extinct, and thanks to the help of many people, we can now release this vinyl. We are very grateful to all of you.

But at the same time, the plight of the epidemic has re-emerged many humanity and morality issues that we have avoided looking at. Maybe we won't die out, but if we don't face our humanity squarely, we will lose our humanity in the future and will no longer be human. I don't know what our music can do about humanity, but it is true that music is one of the creations of humanity, and music cannot leave humanity. As music music lovers, our creations will always face humanity. I hope that in the future, after the epidemic is over, we can understand and inspire each other through our live and music.

Gatefold double LP. Black Vinyl. No DL Code is out in January, 1000 copies available. Since 2006 Maybeshewill have released four full-length albums of towering, cinematic instrumental music. After a decade long career that saw them tour across four continents they bowed out in 2016 with a sold out show at London’s Koko. Having reformed briefly in 2018 at the request of The Cure’s Robert Smith for a show at Meltdown Festival, 2021 sees the band return with their first new material since 2014’s Fair Youth. Having worked on ideas separately in the intervening years, it was the sketches of music that would become ‘No Feeling is Final’ that pulled the band back together. Building on the songs that they felt needed to be heard, together. ‘No Feeling is Final’ was born from a place of weary exasperation. From the knowledge that we’re living in a world hurtling towards self-destruction. We watch as forests burn and seas rise. As the worst tendencies of humanity are championed by those in power; rage, fear, greed and apathy. We see every injustice, every conflict, every catastrophe flash up on our screens. We stay complacent and consume to forget our complicity in the structures and systems that sustain that behaviour. As the world teeters on the edge of disaster, we sigh and keep scrolling, the uneasy feeling in our stomachs eating away at us a little more each day. However easy it would be to switch off and pretend all is lost, there’s no choice but to remain engaged. To set that feeling of hopelessness aside and use the fear and frustration as fuel to make something positive. ‘No Feeling is Final’ is a message of hope and solidarity. It’s a story of growing grassroots movements across the world that are rejecting the doomed futures being sold to us, and imagining new realities based on equality and sustainability. It’s a reckoning with the demons in our histories and a promise to right the wrongs of the past. It’s a plea to take action in shaping the world we leave for future generations. It’s a simple gesture of reassurance to anyone else struggling in these troubled times: “Just keep going. No feeling is final.” Continuing and building on the self-sufficient, do-it-yourself ethos that has been core to their existence, ‘No Feeling is Final’ was once again recorded and produced by bassist Jamie Ward, and released on the bands own Robot Needs Home Collective Label, in collaboration with close friends Wax Bodega (North America), New Noise (Asia) and Birds Robe (Australasia).

From its founding in the late 14th century, the kingdom of Buganda has been celebrated through sound and nurtured a rich musical tradition in its royal court. Coming from across the kingdom, musicians would take turns in the palace to sound drums, xylophones, flutes, lyres, and more to praise and honour the existence of the kingship. In recent years however, the tradition has been more difficult to maintain, especially since 1966 where there was a violent attack on the palace that abruptly abolished the kingdom and during which royal musicians fled or were killed. And while the kingdom was re-established in 1993 as a cultural institution, many of the remaining musicians had since chosen to sideline their skills to deal with the issues of their day to day lives, the practice of the royal tradition waning in popularity, especially with younger listeners and players. But all is not lost. Scattered across the kingdom, a motivated team of older veterans and attentive young players are still keeping the tradition alive. Offering a transversal glimpse into the past and the present, "Buganda Royal Music Revival" collects recordings made in between the late 1940s and 1966 illustrating the older generation's skills, and presents them alongside recent recordings featuring old and young musicians who still carry on this musical tradition, some even performing for the current king, Muwenda Mutebi II. The later were made during the shooting of the 2019 documentary "Buganda Royal Music Revival" that presents through a film what this album conveys through sounds: a packed dive into a century-old tradition. The music displayed here is diverse and vibrant, presenting a variety of styles and highlighting instruments that illustrate the depth and sophistication that stemmed from the royal court experience of Buganda. As a starter, the album opens with 'Mujaguzo'. Often translated as 'The Drums of the Kingship', the mujaguzo is a crucial ensemble for the cultural tradition, made from drums collected by the kingdom throughout its long history and numbering around 100 drums (historical records suggest there were at some point over 300). They are the vitality of the kingship packaged into sound. From here, we're introduced deeper to an array of instruments and textures, like the buzzing Bugandan lyre (endongo) by contemporary royal player Albert Bisaso Ssempeke, the resonant akadinda xylophone with its 21 large wooden keys, Temutewo Mukasa's restless praise sung with his harp (ennanga), the hand-made gourd trumpet (amakondere), the entenga "drum-chime" and its core set of 12 drums tuned like the amadinda xylophone, or the tightly intertwined melodies of the flutes ensemble (abalere). With the music, the hissing and swishing sounds of old tapes reminds at times the listener of the long process, from the original recording to its archival digitization, that allows the talent of past musicians to still vibrate nowadays. This rousing selection of music and moods is a unique and all too rare exploration of sounds that celebrates the common history of generations of musicians, and the question remains open as to how this rich cultural tradition will shape and be shaped by the upcoming Bugandan future, and what engagement it will trigger among audiences within, but also beyond, the kingdom of Buganda.

Trio of Nils Økland, Sigbjørn Apeland and Øyvind Skarbø - apart from the unusual instrumentation of violin or Hardanger fiddle, harmonium and drums, is the empathy displayed by the group as a whole; the hyper-sensitivity with which each individual member appears to respond to the contributions of the others in the pursuit of a collective goal, however obscure or unknowable that goal might be. Such extreme alertness to subtle changes of mood and nuance, and to the evolving sound-world of each, totally improvised, performance is rare in music of any type. 1982 have made it their signature. And because 1982 have so singularly created their own identity and sound, they can do anything they like. Normal conventions of style and genre, format and duration cease to matter: it is all 1982 music, anchored in the strong personalities of the three players and their respect for the primacy of the group as an entity in itself. Thus they can record as a trio - as on the group’s first two albums, ‘1982’ (from 2009) and ‘Pintura’ (their Hubro debut, from 2011) - or with guests, as in the acclaimed '1982 + BJ Cole' (from 2012), and the collaboration with composer Stian Omenås and a quintet of wind players for ‘1982: A/B’ (from 2014). There was also the unique ‘message in a bottle’ intervention of ‘The Bottlemail Project’, begun in 2011, whereby 15 copies of a new recording were ‘distributed’ via USB sticks enclosed in bottles and released into the open sea from Bergen and various worldwide locations. The new album, ‘1982: Chromola’, as well as marking the group's tenth anniversary, represents a return to the essential identity of the trio playing alone, without guests. Recorded at Sandviken church in Bergen on the day following an evening concert, the album uses material from both occasions, engineered once again by Davide Bertolini, who worked on the band’s four previous recordings. As an album it is remarkable for many things, but perhaps most notably for the role of Sigbjorn Apeland, who plays pipe organ on all but one of the seven tracks rather than harmonium, which features only in the closing, seventh, piece.

No other pairing in the history of Darkwave ever matched the unfettered creativity, resolve, and DIY attitude from the collaboration between the two creative minds that compromise Lebanon Hanover.

The meeting of the Swiss musician Larissa Georgiou, aka Larissa Iceglass and British artist William Maybelline a decade ago in the latter’s hometown of Sunderland in the UK, was a monumental occasion, reverberating throughout the European music scene and even across the Atlantic.

Lebanon Hanover would emerge from the peak of the world-wide minimal wave revival, with their 2011 split 7-inch record with La Fete Triste issued as the catalog debut of Europe’s most ubiquitous Techno-Industrial EBM labels, Aufnahme + Wiedergabe

With Berlin as their new physical home, William and Larissa would soon, however, join the Fabrika Records family. From here, they would go on to release two full-length albums through the Athens based label, starting in early 2012 with their winter debut LP The World Is Getting Colder, and it’s All Hallows Eve follow up Why Not Just Be Solo.

It was Lebanon Hanover’s 2013 third studio outing Tomb for Two that would go on to cement the duo’s legacy, with the album’s single “Gallow Dance” becoming a post-punk anthem for the times, with artwork became the band’s defacto logo. Not only that, the song “Sadness is Rebellion”, also featured on the album, became the band’s official Mantra.

Two years would pass before the release of 2015’s critically acclaimed fourth record, “Besides the Abyss”. In the intervening years, William and Larissa, initially a couple, would find other partners, and relocate to Athens.

Meanwhile, Lebanon Hanover as a live act would expand rapidly in popularity, exceeding capacity during their performances at Wave Gotik Treffen in Leipzig, and performing sold-out shows across Europe and the UK.

With the playful Babes of the 80s maxi-single released in the interim, three years would pass before the next record from Lebanon Hanover, with 2018’s Let Them Be Alien, the band’s fifth studio album.

At the dawn of the global pandemic, where dystopian nightmares that were only ever seen before within the pages of books and flashes of silver screen celluloid, has become a daily reality, a new kind of darkness envelops the world. It was at this Lebanon Hanover returned, sharing a glimmer of hope with the single “The Last Thing,” the duo’s first song from their forthcoming sixth studio album Sci-Fi Sky.

Spanning an epic journey across ten tracks that wander through industrial landscapes, and ascend beyond the atmospheric aether, Sci Fi Sky is Lebanon Hanover’s most cohesive artistic statement to date. With their icy hearts on their sleeves, this is the culmination of a decade’s worth of musical creativity radiating from the minds of both Iceglass and Maybelline, and altogether an otherworldly beacon of hope in a time of sheer darkness.

Prodigal son of the ESP Institute, Juan Ramos, rises from the cesspool of a world gone mad with 'Agua Del Cenote', his fifth release with the label. Whilst many artists are following their inner light to bring us some much needed joy amidst these rotten times, Juan (being the little shit that he is) follows an inner demon and delivers listeners and dancers a demented clusterfuck of sadistic chaos. The title track opens with what sounds like a butane torch and we metaphorically freebase into oblivion. Our perception of reality unravels, writhing in abrasive textures smeared across a low-slung, mid-tempo erotic thump. Everything feels blurry and distant, as if we’re swimming through an underground aquatic tunnel, in a panic, searching for an invisible band of spirits whose tune summons us into certain annihilation. Following this is a remix from a decorated lord of 20th Century electronics, Harald Grosskopf AKA The Synthesist. Harald wipes away grit and lethargy to reveal elements hidden deep within the mix as well as softens Juan’s sense of terror by building up to an optimistic layer of added synth. We’d love to offer some relief with the balance of the EP, however, the remaining two tracks paint complimentary hues in the same cerebral palette. 'Let It Go (Freaks Only)' veers closely to House in terms of tempo and gestalt, utilizing a vocal sample from Third Generation (Kerri Chandler) and a healthy dose of sub bass, but Juan hardly apologizes for his masochistic tendencies and certainly never relents into an uplifting mood. Closing the EP, Juan serves an antidote of sorts with 'Cuko', as if suggesting a way out of the swamp, but leaves it up to the listener’s intuition to not only see the carrot, but actually follow it into the light, thus completing the quest.

Germany-based metal band OBSCURA launch trilogy concept on stunning new album “A Valediction”. The group’s first (sixth overall) album for Nuclear Blast pivots on many fronts. Advanced, elegant, and yet refreshing, “A Valediction” sums up past endeavors effortlessly as it gazes with purpose and conviction into the future. OBSCURA are fan-renowned and critically acclaimed for challenging and then expanding upon norms. From “Cosmogenesis” (2009) through “Diluvium” (2018), the band flourished and made significant progress in a musical genre unprepared for a creative shot of German invention. “A Valediction” spearheads OBSCURA into a new era of extreme metal.

Guitarist/vocalist Steffen Kummerer founded OBSCURA in 2002. Early on, he set out to improve, redefine, and push forward. Under his self-label creation, the Bavarian released debut album “Retribution” (2006), followed by heavy touring throughout Europe. Word quickly spread that a brand-new band from the south of Germany was on the rise. Buzz lead to a deal with U.S.-based Relapse Records. The first record out was “Cosmogenesis”. In Europe, Metal Hammer Germany awarded the album 6/7 while in the U.S., “Cosmogenesis” hit the Billboard charts at #71. The cross-continental praise and fevered momentum landed OBSCURA on high-profile tours in Europe, North America, and Japan.

When follow-up “Omnivium” arrived in 2011, they upped their chart success (Billboard #11; Media Control #14), received more accolades from publications like Terrorizer, Rock Hard, and Decibel, had another massive round-world tour cycle, while enhancing and making progress on their clever brutality. OBSCURA further developed their sound on “Akróasis” (2016). Moored by jaw-dropping tracks like ‘Sermon of the Seven Suns,’ ‘Ode to the Sun,’ and the title track, “Akróasis” elevated OBSCURA to the highest levels of international renown, having climbed up the Billboard charts (#5) as well as earning top marks in Rock Hard (8.5/10), Metal Hammer Germany (6/7), and Revolver (4/5). The Germans toured the world yet again, playing over 100 shows in support of “Akróasis”.

OBSCURA’s most significant accomplishment was, however, just around the corner. The final part of a tetralogy, “Diluvium” (2018), fiercely pursued OBSCURA’s multi-album transformation into musical innovators and metal powerhouses. Music videos for the title track, ‘Emergent Evolution’ and ‘Mortification of the Vulgar Sun,’ in concert with a substantial interest in virtuosic, forward-thinking metal, posited OBSCURA in the good graces (yet again) of the worldwide press in addition to rocketing up, for the very first time, the official album charts in Germany (#58) and Switzerland (#93). The Germans also topped out at #3 on the Billboard Heatseekers chart with “Diluvium”.

OBSCURA‘s stats have been impressive: Twenty years active; six highly prized albums; over 600 shows on four continents. Worldwide fan and press engagement—the videos for ‘The Anticosmic Overload,’ ‘Akróasis,’ and ‘Diluvium’ have over 4.5 million views—is only getting stronger the longer OBSCURA continue to offer up and interact with (via play-throughs and member/gear spotlights) their very captive audience. This is only the tip of Kummerer’s custom ESP guitar, however. A Valediction finds OBSCURA turning the page to a new chapter in the band’s evolution. A year in the works, the songwriting sessions followed a new approach, where the framework was relaxed, allowing new inspirations, imagining, and opportunities to arise. Songs like the opening epic ‘Forsaken,’ the '80s-tinted ‘When Stars Collide’ (featuring Soilwork/The Night Flight Orchestra frontman Björn Strid), the brutal groove of ‘Devoured Usurper,’ the ethereal artistry of ‘Heritage,’ and the fleet-fingered title track benefitted compositionally (refined structures) and aesthetically (more dynamism) from OBSCURA’s restyled songwriting stratagem.

OBSCURA wrote, recorded, and finalized “A Valediction” during the pandemic. The stipulations of working during this time allowed OBSCURA to work cross-country, tracking each respective part—drums, guitar, and bass—in national studios across The Netherlands, Austria, and Germany. Once the pieces were completed, the recordings were shipped off to award-winning producer Fredrik Nordström and Studio Fredman (In Flames, Architects) in Gothenburg, Sweden, where Kummerer and Münzner completed vocals and acoustic guitars using custom-built ENGL amps. Nordström was also tapped to mix and master. The final result is a deeper, heavier, yet more rounded production.

Lyrically, “A Valediction” is layered in structure and meaning. The word ‘valediction,’ by definition, deals with goodbyes and farewells. In a way, this is auf wiedersehen to the four-part album series while also addressing complex topics of Kummerer’s personal life. Instead of obscuring issues of loss, death, and abandonment in metaphor and allusion, the German laid bare his torment across songs like ‘Forsaken,’ ‘Solaris,’ ‘In Unity,’ ‘The Neuromancer,’ and ‘In Adversity.’ But for every line of desperation, he also offers positivity. Indeed, new beginnings—physical, emotional, or environmental—can provide light in the darkness. Lauded artist Eliran Kantor (Testament, Helloween) was brought on board to visualize the leitmotif. The bronze-themed colourway Kantor used exemplifies OBSCURA’s resistance to individual and sonic corrosion.

In 2021, OBSCURA will lighthouse their musical prowess, thematic complexity, and lyrical ambition on “A Valediction”. The group continue to be a beacon for change. No doubt OBSCURA’s new stats will amaze, but what they’re focused on is the release of “A Valediction” and then taking it on the road. Several high-caliber tours of Europe, North America, and Asia are planned through to 2023, with routes are in the works for the band to visit Australia, South America, and beyond. Truly, there is no band quite like OBSCURA. “A Valediction” proves that persistence, perseverance, and enterprising minds can achieve anything. Welcome to the next level!

There are records with empathy, records which are your friends and then there's the others... There might be little difference between them, a certain "je ne sais quoi", an "almost nothing but still something" which makes the difference between almost pointless and vital records. Despite, or rather thanks to his cynical despair, Matt Elliott's music never holds up a moralizing mirror to us - on the contrary, it creates a compassionate dialogue with listeners like the rhythm of two steps that synchronize to become as one. In 2016, Matt Elliot brought out his seventh solo album The Calm Before whose obscure title is neither exactly threatening nor comforting... the calm before what? Before the storm for sure but maybe also before the great record, the immediate classic we felt might be coming for a long time in the dual discography of the Bristol-born artist working under his own name and his electronic alias Third Eye Foundation. The elegant details and perspectives of Little Lost Soul (2000) already hinted at the upcoming masterpiece from the English singer-songwriter. The Mess We Made (2003) was Matt Elliott's first solo album and portrayed a universe in a kind of flight towards Balkan horizons made up of visceral despair. With the Songs trilogy, he put aside the electronic side of his work to continue working with a minimalist, stark and lucid style of writing. The Broken Man (2012) was full of tears and long laments sometimes carried by Katia Labèque's piano on a record which painted new shades of grey. On this record Matt began working with the producer, arranger and multi-instrumentalist David Chalmin (La Terre Invisible) who has kept on collaborating with the Bristol-born singer since then. Their partnership continued on Only Myocardial Infection Can Break Your Heart (2013) and The Calm Before (2016). Stéphane Grégoire is the head of the Ici D'Ailleurs label which has accompanied Matt Elliott since 2005 and perhaps he describes this album the best: "This new record by Matt is without a doubt his best album to date, a record that takes him into another dimension where he fully asserts himself as a songwriter and singer of the calibre of artists like Bill Callahan, Leonard Cohen or Johnny Cash." Matt Elliott's other records all seemed like empathic links between each other. Farewell To All We Know is an instant classic based on the sensitive piano and superb arrangements of David Chalmin, the sensitive cello of Gaspar Claus, the subtle bass of Jeff Hallam (who has also played with Dominique A and John Parish). There is a clear form of alchemy in all of this and still we find Matt Elliott's usual atmospheres and scenery, the same Eastern European folk music, long songs that take time to settle over time. Everything is the same but also is transfigured. By making his music stark and purifying and redefining the subject matter, Matt Elliott's work became so much more delicate. However this work is never frail nor really turned in on himself and thus becomes like a vital tune that vibrates and unfolds. The opening song Farewell To All We Know seems torn between the fear of what tomorrow may bring, inevitability and hope for the future in a permanent and progressive dramatic tension expressed by his Spanish guitar, the impressionist style piano and Matt's voice teetering on the edge of whispers. A funereal tribute to endless twilights and the dawns we all dream of seeing. There are touches of Leonard Cohen from Songs from a Room or Thanks For The Dance in The Day After That with Gaspar Claus's counterpoint cello. There is no spirit of resignation in Matt Elliott's work - life's path has to be followed against all odds. We have to follow the river's flow to reach the immense ocean and its infinite freedom. The haunted instrumental Guidance Is Internal harks back to the atmospheres of Howling Songs (2008) with its guitar parts full of scansions and muted threats. The music is transcendental but never seems afraid of the risk of falling. This is also what Bye Now tells us with its quasi-obsolete simplicity and sunburst melancholy reminiscent of the work of Luiz Bonfá, Bill Evans on Peace Piece or laidback crooners of the 50s. In Farewell To All We Know, Matt Elliott incessantly alternates between the dual desires to face up to the world or to protect himself from it. Hating The Player, Hating The Game is a lucid statement about the dullness of our daily lives sometimes, our right to get out of the game and no longer want to be part of it. Matt Elliott is tender but spares no one, particularly himself. Aboulia speaks of the tiredness of living and of looming death while Crisis Apparition says that there is always a time for reconstruction after chaos. This is like initially wearying wandering in the ruins of Aleppo with the slow dilution of the melody into a hallucinated drone. However the smell of great fires always fades and the earth always regenerates. Matt Elliott seems to suggest that the survival instinct is stronger than any cold winds could ever be. Matt Elliott never sings of certainties and prefers possibilities. Possibly the worst is over? Maybe... Maybe the storm has passed and devastated everything, now we just have to rebuild and live again. Farewell To All We Know shows us the distance that still needs to be walked and he walks next to you - right next to you, he is the friend who doesn't spare you the truth like all true friends really do.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

We used to enjoy presenting Chapelier Fou's work using the idea of music in the form of a treasure hunt. However, while the phrase in itself it still just as relevant today, we would never have imagined that it would become such an integral part of one of his albums. Or two of his albums to be perfectly exact - Méridiens and Parallèles. Two records with twelve songs each which answer each other back in the form of anagrams. They are like the two sides of the same planet - similar but simultaneously so different. They need to be discovered one after the other taking the time necessary to travel through the sound territories produced by his imagination. The starting point is a sombre night in Uqbar… Chapelier Fou's opening reference to Borgès was obviously not made by chance. He subsequently confided in us the objective of his diptych, namely to combine reality with fiction to question certainties and our relationships with the imaginary sphere. He has continued with his traditional classical-contemporary electronic approach which, although now known to a wide audience, has the advantage of opening up a whole range of possibilities right up to the infinite scale. Moving away from an "État Nain" (Dwarf State) to take refuge on an asteroid...Throughout Méridiens, each composition can be seen as a universe in itself or a specific landscape with its own temporality. Proof of this is the introduction to the chamber music format composed for and performed by only strings which can only be given the date we want to give it. This is "État Nain" in which violins are played like guitars. In some parts we find the spirit of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra and the idea of cheering up classical instruments and not taking everything too seriously. In other parts, we find something close to a mischievous and childish unplugged grunge anthem that could be from the French series Les Shadoks. This mischievous view of things is shown to full effect in Am Scharchtensee. The introduction shows Chapelier Fou's whole classical universe and mastery of orchestration in which "modular" electronics provide a subtle and discreet backdrop. Then, the record suddenly switches to a surrealist dialogue between these classical sounds and modular synthesizers with the flavour of the German pioneers Kluster/Harmonia to name but one example. Timelessness and imaginary places. La vie de cocagne confirms this choice of total freedom. It's traditional music with old sounds, a kind of forgotten bourrée (old French dance) in which electronic sounds disturb the established order and thus reach another musical dimension. Le méridien du Péricarde followed by Désert de Sonora push this idea of a trompe l'oreille and a hall of mirrors even further. The latter track ends almost like a catchy 80s melody and we can no longer find any logical meaning. We let ourselves be carried away by this profusion of madness and are a little amazed by this mastery of sound, composition and space. It sometimes all seems like a succession of conjuring tricks. Chapelier Fou takes not being serious very seriously indeed. The end song Everest trail is the perfect conclusion, a deadpan track in which the primary aspect of a totally classical melody in all its straightness is underpinned by a permanent exchange of electronic tweets which mocks the main musical posture. This impertinence harks back to Pierre Schaeffer who directed the ORTF's very serious experimental department in another era and allowed the development of Jacques Rouxel's series Les Shadoks thus introducing the general public to the notion of concrete music. This is also perhaps why Louis Warynski's stage name is French – because he has opted to use his French musical heritage. Thus the first singles selected from this album, Constantinople with its groovy and jazzy allure and Le Triangle des Bermudes evoke composers like Michel Magne or Michel Colombier both of whom have totally open minds and consider all music to have the same importance, namely that of sound. In absolutely all the tracks that make up Méridiens, you will find at least one detail - a pattern, melody, sometimes a simple sound - that will draw you back to explore it a little more. And the words are carefully weighed for sure. It's quite simple. This is undoubtedly his most hypnotizing and catchy album. Chapelier Fou has become a complete master of his own universe. He draws the start and finish lines himself and no one can follow him in a field that now belongs to him alone. Composed imaginary spheres, illustrated territories...Music is just as meaningful as the more visual arts. Therefore the artwork of Méridiens had to project each of the twelve tracks considered individually and not just the whole album as such. Chapelier Fou therefore asked his old friend the contemporary artist Corentin Grossman to create twelve windows to represent glimpses of the twelve worlds composed for the record. Windows or mirrors when it comes to that? You can never be sure of anything...Space OK. But what about time? The years go by and sometimes we forget that fact. But a simple glance back is often enough to gently touch the time that has passed. It is over 10 years since his first official record and he has been composing, recording and sharing his music for almost 20 years. 20 years is a long time. It makes some people look old while others fall into reassuring but sterile nostalgia. Chapelier Fou, on the other hand, has released his most ambitious project and tried to take a higher view of his discography that was itself nevertheless irreproachable. Although the journey is over we can see Parallèles universes on the horizon. Chapelier Fou has announced 12 additional tracks which are like echoes of the compositions on Méridiens' and will be released on the album Parallèles next spring. They are neither twins nor opposites – they are instead totally original new compositions which go further in exploring a universe which is already richly abundant.

Five years after the release of "Je vous dis" in 2018, Geins't Naït and L.Petitgand's second album from the "Mind Travel" and "Make Dogs Sing" collection on the German label "Offen", the duo are now writing a new chapter in their story with this fascinating poetic tale. The same mysterious and heady atmosphere which characterises the two musicians is present in this new work but clearly they have never ceased refining and polishing their sounds to give their compositions even more power and depth. Geins't Naït and L.Petitgand here offer twelve new tracks with names as enigmatic as the title "Like this maybe or This" itself and the record's whole universe. In reality, these mysterious names lead us to let ourselves be taken to the deep meaning of their creation. The subject matter is certainly difficult to grasp and invites us on an inner journey while leading us to doubt and question ourselves incessantly. There is a perfect alchemy between these two artists though this was far from self-evident as they come from two very different schools. Thierry Merigout, who is now the only representative left from the late 80's experimental project Geins't Naït in Nancy, comes from the post-industrial scene. As for Laurent Petitgand, he is a pure melodist who is best known for his work as a composer of music for films and live shows and has collaborated with Wim Wenders and Paul Auster in particular. "Like this maybe or This" is a fully accomplished symbiosis between Geinst Nait's industrial and experimental tonalities and the celestial melodies of Laurent Petitgand. "Shape of the storie" starts the album with a bewildering atmosphere which mixes a sample of a guttural voice with cavernous resonances thus prefiguring the album's general atmosphere. However, while some tracks like "HAC" fuel our existential anguish, other tracks have a poetic and melancholic tonality which touches our deepest humanity. This is the case of "Dustil" whose subtle piano notes combined with the melancholy violin show us a sublimated world. This fascinating blend of violence and gentleness makes this record an atypical work which enables listeners to lose themselves in an emotional nebula where they can perceive the turbulence and also the intensity of our inner life.

Infamous Southern wrecking crew return with an all country & western album, marking their 25th anniversary. Features numerous guest legends from the Grand Ole Opry along with Jello Biafra. Join those Legendary Shack Shakers as they mark their 25th anniversary as a band on Planet Earth to celebrate the occasion, they’ve invited former members to help them record an all country & western album! From spaghetti western to bluegrass, western swing to rockabilly, Tex-Mex to country folk, the variety of the genre is on full display. Always ones to respect their history, the Shack Shakers have also included some Kentucky local legends to “pick and grin”. Hotshots such as Stanley Walker (Grand Ole Opry band leader for Jean Shepard and guitarist for Sun Studio’s “Rockin’ ” Ray Smith) and Jack Martin (dobro-player for Lester Flatt) really give those “young ‘uns” a run for their money. And the always-ornery “Hillbilly” Bob Prather (Louisiana Hayride fiddler and running buddy of Opry star Onie Wheeler) pitches in too. Just add The Dead Kennedys’ Jello Biafra, hillbilly royalty Chris Scruggs and an Old Crow Medicine Showman and you’ve got a recipe for what could only be a Legendary Shack Shakers masterpiece. Titling it Cockadoodledeux was done, admittedly, to bookend 2002’s Cockadoodle-Don’t, an album by which many fans were first made aware of the group. However, it also serves to signal the start of another twenty-five years! Just as the plucky, two-headed chick emerges from the egg on the cover, so too begins a fresh start for the band’s creative energies. Once again, generations of fans both young and old get to lean in, listen and expect the un-expected.

Following March’s 9696 Dream mixtape and July’s Flex Time EP, this new album sees 96 Back shine the spotlight on his own vocals for the first time, at points (such as on lead single ‘9 To Find 6’) operating fully in the realms of experimental pop. At other times, such as on ‘Teach Me Tenderness’ and ‘Feel Hard’, 96 Back stretches and processes his vocals to almost breaking point, while album closer ‘Melt You’ sees him duet with past collaborator Iceboy Violet, ending Love Letters on a sombre but romantic note. That’s not to say Love Letters is fully removed from the dancefloor, however: tracks like ‘Don’t Die’ and ‘Love Compact’ are precision-tooled for the club, while the likes of ‘Felzin’ and ‘Vibrant Colours’ continue to explore the intricate but emotive electronics that 96 Back has been so successful with in the past. More varied and vivid than any of 96 Back’s releases to date, Love Letters feels like a coming of age moment. It casts its net incredibly wide at points, and it’s an album full of ambition, but it meets every challenge it sets itself — as affecting in its quieter, tender moments as during its dramatic peaks. In 96 Back’s words: “This is a record I feel like I’ve been trying to write for years, it feels like the most accurate body of work to match the ideas in my mind. Trying to project a lot of the records I hold very dear to me through this lens, interpreting how they sound to me and merging them with ideas of finding the drama and excitement in the full spectrum of emotions on the tip of my tongue, that’s what ended up being Love Letters, Nine Through Six.”

"Free Jazz " - Ornette Coleman (as); Eric Dolphy (b-cl); Don Cherry, Freddie Hubbard (tp); Charlie Haden, Scott LaFaro (b); Billy Higgins, Ed Blackwell (dr)

The term 'free jazz' was already inexistence – but it had a quite different meaning, namely jazz without paying for an entrance ticket. The album "Free Jazz", however, was intended to lend its name to a quite different style of jazz. 'Free' playing – now this meant that no one was bound to conventions, you could let your imagination run loose. Free jazz gave one the chance to find new rules for every new composition. And it was to be the greatest boost to innovation in the world of jazz. Ornette Coleman’s album from December 1960 stands at the beginning of the free jazz era like a massive portal. Coleman thought big: he brought two quartets into the studio at the same time, both with two wind instruments and no piano, and let them play together for 36 minutes without a break – a collective improvisation. There aren’t any precise themes, although short, fanfare-like motifs do exist in which the winds come together. A continuousdense rhythmic beat underlies the music almost throughout – and the pulse is felt rather than heard. One musician after the other comes into the foreground to improvise, almost like at a jam session. First Coleman, then Dolphy, then the two trumpeters. The other winds, however, never remain silent, then make comments and support one another continually – the energy level is immense the whole time (it was cold in the studio ...). Only when it is the turn of the bass and drum players do the winds remain silent for about eleven minutes. This album is not only a historic caesura, but a truly great experience over andover again.

This Speakers Corner LP was remastered using pure analogue components only, from the master tapes through to the cutting head. More information under pure-analogue

All royalties and mechanical rights have been paid.

Recording: December 1961 in A&RStudios, New York City, by Tom Dowd

Production: Nesuhi Ertegun

Robert Sotelo is a mercurial melodist building a resplendent world of pristine DIY pop from the ground up. The Glasgow-based artist’s songs are meticulously crafted, patchworked together with eclectic arrangements and ardent vocal performances. Each of his albums to date has been accompanied by a growth-spurt, 2017’s debut ‘Cusp’ was packed with miniature psych overtures, whilst 2018’s 'Botanical' was more keyboard-minded and playful with a near-absurdist palette of sound. ‘Infinite Sprawling’ came out towards the end of 2019 and surprised with songs pulled together like a wakeful stretch, brisk with a lightness of touch. This was neatly followed by ‘Leap & Bounce’ melding a sparse synth-pop minimalism to an emotional undertow.
This November Upset The Rhythm will release Robert Sotelo’s vivid new album ‘Celebrant’. ‘Celebrant’ was intended to be and still is to some extent a joyous wedding album (Sotelo is recently married), but in his own words “the pandemic and the death of my aunt Carmen intersected with the original concept so the album is darker than intended in places.” More cinematic and measured than prior albums, Sotelo expounds that “it is purposefully a bigger sounding attempt at my keyboard songs and I felt more ambitious about it in general.” That’s certainly reflected in these twelve sophisticated loops of song, all curiously affecting and catchy, sprinkled with Sotelo’s offbeat musings and keenly accurate observations. Guitars are rarely employed on this record with Sotelo recruiting Iain Mccall, Ross Blake, Celia Morgan and David Maxwell to contribute brass, woodwind, spoken word and acoustic drums respectively. All of these additions blend well with the album’s synthetic core, softening and subtly shaping its pop-first nature into something more nuanced, vulnerable and human.
‘Celebrant’ is a plucky synth-centric collection of unbridled songs at times surefooted at others threatened by disconnect, skilfully steered by Sotelo with typical classy touch. ‘Dear Resident’ is divinely metronomic, ‘Behaviour’ luxuriates in pitching a silken saxophone into a frenzied drum-off. ‘The Currency Is Love’ swaggers with 80s vibes aplenty: “all the globe is listening as a system of concern” sings Sotelo in clipped manner, enjoying the placement of each word in each song precisely, however seemingly stumbled upon and surreal their selection might seem. Other highlights include title track ‘The Celebrant’ with its lush environ of droning keys, swooning woodwind and baroque reverie, and ‘This Is My House’ a woozy, maze-like triumph of melody. ‘Influencer’ is similarly masterful with melancholic strains of synth, sax and voice: “extract the data from the fruit straight off the tree, conducive testing proves it’s not reality, create a substitute to simulate the tide, with rich efficiency the differences can hide.” The song itself a cipher for an ill-imagined future we might be living in already.
With ‘Celebrant’ Robert Sotelo has made an album that sounds as big as its heart and imagination, true depth of feeling, true depth of connection. It’s an ornate album, complex and thoughtful, a fitting tribute to a wedding in unsettled times. What a treat that we’ve all been invited to the reception.

12" Vinyl with reverse board sleeve

DJ, producer and artist Call Super announces their latest release, the double EP titled ‘Cherry Drops’. This is the third and fourth release to come on can you feel the sun, the label they co-founded with London-based DJ and producer Parris.

The adventurous EP by Call Super, real name Joseph Richmond Seaton, is a collection of tracks written around the time they were working on a larger project called ‘Tell Me I Didn’t Choose This’, which reflects on a period in their life of upheaval, trauma and self-discovery. However, the music on Cherry Drops became a release from that project - a distraction from painful reflections and recollections. Reconnecting with music made solely for the dancefloor became their much needed escape, as it was in those spaces they originally found release and freedom during pivotal periods in their life.