quête:human life

Svart Records is proud to present The Limit. Punk & Doom originators go straight to the soul of heavy rock on their new album Caveman Logic to be released via Svart Records on the 9th of April 2021. More than a super-group, The Limit goes over the edge, to deliver real-deal, soulful Rock and Roll. Consisting of members of legendary Punk instigators The Stooges, the founders of Doom Rock Pentagram, legendary NYC Punk originators Testors and infamous Portugese metal band Dawnrider, The Limit break out from the foundations of heavy rock and defy all expectations, to show a new generation what doom and punk really means. On the new album Caveman Logic, Bobby Liebling, singer and main-man of Pentagram, one of the originators of early Doom Rock and an inspiration for generations of Heavy Rock fans, on vocals, gives the performance of his career, singing like his life depended on it. Sonny Vincent, enigmatic legend of the early NYC Max's Kansas City, CBGB Punk scene with his band Testors, having been on the road and recording with members of The Velvet Underground, lays down the guitar driven songs, his writing bearing all the hallmarks of ground-breaking Rock history in it’s filthy DNA. Phenomenal bass playing from Jimmy Recca, ex- The Stooges, and Ron Asheton’s New Order, gives The Limit the intense and world-class, speaker-destroying bottom end. Joined by Hugo Conim on Guitar and João Pedro Ventura on Drums from Portuguese band Dawnrider, The Limit fuses star-dust pedigree with an organic incendiary chemistry that’s instantly raw and real. A dream come true to those that know their Doom/Punk history, The Limit brings the past right up to date on Caveman Logic, with an essential, burning passion at the heart of their songs. Seldom has a collaboration of well known stars in music sounded so vigorous and frenzied as The Limit’s caveman-like roar. The Limit is an astoundingly fresh and hot-blooded shot to the veins that Heavy Rock needs in this day and age. Conjured forth by stone-age pioneers, Caveman Logic goes to the heart of impassioned Heavy Rock and Punk, to deliver the basic and vital elements often missing in so much of today’s music. If you want primitive and straight to the soul primal rock, fresh from the grave and exhumed for a new unwitting future, look no further than Caveman Logic. This is it.

Svart Records is proud to present The Limit. Punk & Doom originators go straight to the soul of heavy rock on their new album Caveman Logic to be released via Svart Records on the 9th of April 2021. More than a super-group, The Limit goes over the edge, to deliver real-deal, soulful Rock and Roll. Consisting of members of legendary Punk instigators The Stooges, the founders of Doom Rock Pentagram, legendary NYC Punk originators Testors and infamous Portugese metal band Dawnrider, The Limit break out from the foundations of heavy rock and defy all expectations, to show a new generation what doom and punk really means. On the new album Caveman Logic, Bobby Liebling, singer and main-man of Pentagram, one of the originators of early Doom Rock and an inspiration for generations of Heavy Rock fans, on vocals, gives the performance of his career, singing like his life depended on it. Sonny Vincent, enigmatic legend of the early NYC Max's Kansas City, CBGB Punk scene with his band Testors, having been on the road and recording with members of The Velvet Underground, lays down the guitar driven songs, his writing bearing all the hallmarks of ground-breaking Rock history in it’s filthy DNA. Phenomenal bass playing from Jimmy Recca, ex- The Stooges, and Ron Asheton’s New Order, gives The Limit the intense and world-class, speaker-destroying bottom end. Joined by Hugo Conim on Guitar and João Pedro Ventura on Drums from Portuguese band Dawnrider, The Limit fuses star-dust pedigree with an organic incendiary chemistry that’s instantly raw and real. A dream come true to those that know their Doom/Punk history, The Limit brings the past right up to date on Caveman Logic, with an essential, burning passion at the heart of their songs. Seldom has a collaboration of well known stars in music sounded so vigorous and frenzied as The Limit’s caveman-like roar. The Limit is an astoundingly fresh and hot-blooded shot to the veins that Heavy Rock needs in this day and age. Conjured forth by stone-age pioneers, Caveman Logic goes to the heart of impassioned Heavy Rock and Punk, to deliver the basic and vital elements often missing in so much of today’s music. If you want primitive and straight to the soul primal rock, fresh from the grave and exhumed for a new unwitting future, look no further than Caveman Logic. This is it.

Hainbach erected three huge sculptures (or ‘totems’) from obsolete, once high-end research equipment, taken from nuclear research labs, particle accelerators and grandfather’s sheds. These forgotten relics of scientific progression and milestones of human evolution were repurposed by the artist and given a new lease of life in a completely unforeseen capacity; as musical instruments dubbed the ‘Landfill Totems’. The juxtaposition of religious, totemic imagery and electronic landfill is, in part, meant to act as a commentary on the environmental cost of progress; what was once the pinnacle of technology quickly becomes unviable and destined for the scrapheap except for the intervention of Hainbach, upcycling and redesigning them as pillars and shrines to the idea that progress doesn’t always have to cause destruction.

Luca Yupanqui was not yet born when she recorded her debut album. The music on the aptly titled Sounds of the Unborn is the expression of life in its cosmic state _ pre-mind, pre-speculation, pre-influence, and pre-human. It is the first album created by a person while they were still inside the womb, the expression of a soul that hasn't yet seen the light of day nor taken a single breath of air. It is a message that comes from a different realm, a sublayer of our existence. Sounds of the Unborn was made with biosonic MIDI technology, which translated Luca's in utero movements into sound. With the help of her parents, Psychic Ills bassist Elizabeth Hart and Lee Scratch Perry collaborator Iván Diaz Mathé, Luca's prenatal essence was captured in audio. They designed a ritual, a kind of joint meditation for the three of them, with the MIDI devices hooked to Elizabeth's stomach, transcribing its vibrations into Iván's synthesizers. They let the free-form meditations flow without much interference, just falling deeper into trance and feeling the unity. After five hour-long sessions, the shape of an album began to emerge. Elizabeth and Iván then edited and mixed the results of the sessions, respecting the sounds as they were produced, trying to intervene as little as possible, allowing Luca's message to exist in its raw form. This cosmic soul summoning created new sounds, striking into uncharted territory for Elizabeth and Iván as musicians. A new language was being created, a new form of communication. It was a music without intellect or intentionality behind it, with no preconception or attempt to create any specific sound or melody. Every note on Sounds of the Unborn occurred naturally. It is human nature to wonder what life is like inside another human being's consciousness. How does it feel? What does it sound like? All these questions became stronger and more important to Elizabeth and Iván while they were waiting for Luca to come into the world. At a certain point the questions turned into, What would she say if she could speak? How would she react to the outer world? And ultimately, What kind of music would she play if she was able to? This album is an attempt to answer those questions. RIYL: Brian Eno, Mort Garson, Kaitlyn Aurelia-Smith

Reuben Sawyer is nothing if not prolific. He's also a man of many talents - his various projects have included the coldwave sounds of The Column, Hollow Sunshine's blown-out psych-noise, Anytime Cowboy's take on countrified weirdo-pop, and even ambient house courtesy of Rose. Oh, and he's a visual artist too, of course. Pfft, who needs an attention span anyway? One thing he's also dabbled in, however, is post-punk. Human Trophy is firmly in line with that tradition, but pulling from multiple directions at once - one minute this album rattles along like Big Black with the tempo down and the textures dialled up, the next we're firmly in Christian Death territory. The twisting guitar lines and pummelling bass of 'Forming Horrors' even call to mind his blackened punk project Dry Insides, but with less velocity and a helluva lot more menace. Is 'Corpse Dream' a goth record? Possibly. Whether goth is a lifestyle choice for Sawyer or not, he's certainly adept at immersing himself in sounds and making them feel like a comfortable fit. As with all his projects, it feels like another effortless facet of Reuben Sawyer - and in keeping with the rest of his output, it's absolutely packed with songs you'll wanna play again and again. Penultimate track 'The Roads' is built on a none-more gloomy pile-up of darkly portentous rhythms and a firm sense of disquiet, but once you're locked into its circular riffage you'll feel an urge to keep the loop going endlessly. Then there's the closer 'Blood Apex', a dual-vocal nightmare set to music which draws you back in even as it attempts to push you away. Yeah, it's pretty great.

Debut album, duo from Detroit which includes Chris Samuels of Ritual Howls 350 Units of limited cloudy clear/Bronze splatter colored vinyl Electronic, Industrial, Experimental music for Fans of Ritual Howls, Throbbing Gristle, Coil, The Legendary Pink Dots, Drew McDowall, Suicide, Cabaret Voltaire // Mission to the Sun synthesizes ambient, post-industrial landscapes with expansive arrangements and haunting vocals. Comprised of Christopher Samuels (synths, samples, programming) of Ritual Howls and Kirill Slavin (vocals), the Detroit-based duo creates an atmosphere of lamentation for a world left behind. Fragments of industrial noise and hypnotic synths fill Samuels' foreboding, alien terrain, and it's in this vastness that Slavin's voice mourns the drudgery of everyday life and the loss of universal consciousness. The duo's debut album, Cleansed by Fire, takes the listener on a journey home to the inferno of the sun, navigating memories of a life lived, dissolved into time. A wind of desolation opens "Take Me Back," with Slavin mourning for a return home to a distant reality. The song uses repetition to build a somber ambience while maintaining a spaciousness sparsely accented by noise with care and precision. Slavin's lyrics examine the conflict and paradoxes that riddle the human condition with Samuel's instrumentation providing a fitting backdrop. "The Unbroken Sea" illustrates this symbiotic reflection with a propulsive bass line contradicted by ethereal synths that swell and contract, only to be finally engulfed by a pulsating crescendo of rhythmic noise at the end. The dystopian title track "Cleansed by Fire" marches steadily along to a creeping darkwave rhythm. The basic elements of dance music are there, yet the song remains devoid of danceability. Punctuated by lyrics inspired by J.G. Ballard and technological isolation, a glimmer of pop sensibility can be found beneath the haze of the track's potent mood. Mission to the Sun beautifully captures an alien feeling: one ripe with despair and longing, one that doesn't quite belong to this world or time. A slow, satisfying burn, Cleansed by Fire traverses the dystopian past and present, while moving toward the future.

The Copenhagen-based, Scottish-born composer Clarissa Connelly’s music is evocative of the whimsical and almost child-like, tainted by an undercurrent of dark sensuality, disquietude and existential dread. Characterized by complex arrangements, big compounded chords, as well as a broad array of instruments, effects and sounds, her songs orient the listener towards utopian beauty that lie somewhere between the baroque and the primordial. With an experimental approach to vocal techniques, her voice can manifest benevolent fay-like creatures as easily as banshees and maleficent spirits singing melodies that retain the accessibility typically associated with pop-music. The compositions are lyrically and aesthetically grounded in Celtic folklore and Scandinavian vitalism. The threshold between the mundane and the fantastical are accentuated in her work, in such a way that the pursuit for – and the ability to recognize – real beauty in the world become anchored in the realm of work, everyday anxiety, motivation, human brilliance and failure.

With forthcoming album The Voyager, Connelly sets out to not only to study the relationship between nature and music, but also its relationship with time. She says: “I’ve always been especially excited about times in the north before Christianity came, and how the Pagan culture and Christianity became intertwined in people through rituals and formations in the landscape - burial mounds, passage graves, dolmens, etc.” She continues: “In some way, it’s very difficult to translate nature into an understandable movement of change. Looking at a mountain I often view a still picture of time – a moment right now – but sometimes, I can look at the mountain and see millions of years of change and movement. I believe that this point of view can be assisted by art and music. In a landscape ornamented with ruined Viking fortresses or ancient burial mounds, I find that I, for whatever reason, seem to be able to perceive time and comprehend history (the history of nature and culture) as a series of changes in a more salient way.”It is here that The Voyager derives so much of its power. It roots itself in history, mythology, capable of intertwining and unravelling both past and present. Songs such as Holler and The Hills Are Crying – opening and closing tracks on the album, respectively – conjure images of these ancient Danish sites, offering something more than just a fluid, long-forgotten way, and instead a tangible reverie that can educate, engage and thrill in equal measure. Connelly explains: “I have the idea, that the mystical and fantastical nature of these olden barrows and ruins can kindle a more dynamic and historically informed perspective. I think that an understanding of time as a movement is articulated when looking at the landscape in this way and can maybe bring us out of our little bell jar, and into a greater experience of life as a whole.”

The Voyager is released in conjunction with an app Vandringen (released 27 september 2020), conceived and created by Clarissa Connelly - along with the contributions of 21 other Danish musicians, painters, sculptures, performers - which highlights special ancient Danish locations, not viewable on Google Maps. These locations are presented with local knowledge and a number of them are interpreted for the modern day by the creatives involved. Connelly concludes: “I am very eager to write music that sounds like something that is happening now but has also happened a very long time ago. I have always found it fascinating to view history through changes in the landscapes around us, and therefore I started created this app and wrote this album.”

Luca Yupanqui was not yet born when she recorded her debut album. The music on the aptly titled Sounds of the Unborn is the expression of life in its cosmic state _ pre-mind, pre-speculation, pre-influence, and pre-human. It is the first album created by a person while they were still inside the womb, the expression of a soul that hasn't yet seen the light of day nor taken a single breath of air. It is a message that comes from a different realm, a sublayer of our existence. Sounds of the Unborn was made with biosonic MIDI technology, which translated Luca's in utero movements into sound. With the help of her parents, Psychic Ills bassist Elizabeth Hart and Lee Scratch Perry collaborator Iván Diaz Mathé, Luca's prenatal essence was captured in audio. They designed a ritual, a kind of joint meditation for the three of them, with the MIDI devices hooked to Elizabeth's stomach, transcribing its vibrations into Iván's synthesizers. They let the free-form meditations flow without much interference, just falling deeper into trance and feeling the unity. After five hour-long sessions, the shape of an album began to emerge. Elizabeth and Iván then edited and mixed the results of the sessions, respecting the sounds as they were produced, trying to intervene as little as possible, allowing Luca's message to exist in its raw form. This cosmic soul summoning created new sounds, striking into uncharted territory for Elizabeth and Iván as musicians. A new language was being created, a new form of communication. It was a music without intellect or intentionality behind it, with no preconception or attempt to create any specific sound or melody. Every note on Sounds of the Unborn occurred naturally. It is human nature to wonder what life is like inside another human being's consciousness. How does it feel? What does it sound like? All these questions became stronger and more important to Elizabeth and Iván while they were waiting for Luca to come into the world. At a certain point the questions turned into, What would she say if she could speak? How would she react to the outer world? And ultimately, What kind of music would she play if she was able to? This album is an attempt to answer those questions. RIYL: Brian Eno, Mort Garson, Kaitlyn Aurelia-Smith

Hailing from Los Angeles, Jimmy Tamborello has been a key figure in refining what today is considered electronica for over 20 years. "The Seas Trees See" is the first of two Dntel albums to be released in 2021 by Morr Music in collaboration with Les Albums Claus: a free-floating and rather loose stroke of musical genius, giving ambience a whole new meaningful context. It combines crackles and hiss with deep, yet modest, synths and poignant, yet elegant, vocals and lyrics. "Away", its counterpart album, will follow later in 2021. It will showcase Dntel’s unapologetic love for pop music from a long-gone era, presenting yet another aspect of his multi-faceted personality. Dntel has always covered many musical grounds – from the pop-infused hits on "Life Is Full Of Possibilities" (Plug Research, 2001) to his much more abstract works on "Aimlessness" (Pampa Records, 2012), "Human Voice” (Leaving Records, 2014), and his electronics for The Postal Service (Sub Pop). Whatever his style – Tamborello has retained his very own musical voice.

When it comes to producing music, it can be a good idea to get away from the studio and find a more relaxed environment. Inspiration does not necessarily require huge bass bins. Fewer pieces of gear make it easier to really focus on ideas first and let them be. After recording "Hate In My Heart" – his most recent album, released in 2018 – this way, Tamborello continued working in that fashion, mainly jamming and getting ideas together for upcoming live shows. One of the first results of this creative process was the opening track of "The Seas Trees See" – a cover version of "The Lilac and the Apple", originally recorded by Californian folk singer Kate Wolf in 1977. Tamborello turns the acapella song into a vocoder-like extravaganza. Working with the original recording, the track perfectly sets the tone for what "The Seas Trees See" turns out to be – a quiet yet mesmerizing journey through sound and emotion, bringing together his very own sound design, disguised samples and an incredible feel for moods and atmospheres.

"I thought a lot about making an album that you would find in a thrift store", Tamborello remembers. Something "like a mysterious collection of sketches that leaves a lot unanswered. It doesn’t beg for attention or have any big moments." Despite its perfect and gentle flow, it is worth digging deeper, to surrender oneself to all the painstakingly placed details. Whether the beautiful and haunting piano work on "Movie Tears" or the almost sidechained-sounding "Yoga App" – every aspect of this album has been beautifully crafted, often bringing one of life’s biggest questions to the table: What if? What would have happened if Tamborello would have done this on that track or that on this track? It is good that he did not. Small things add up to something great, diverse and riveting.

The subtlety of his latest endeavor is fascinating. It opens up a new world, in which small musical sketches mean at least as much as perfectly produced pop anthems – if not more.

Since his 2012 debut as Heathered Pearls, Jakub Alexander has constructed art — music, objects, installations, performances — as a way of re-imagining fragments of his past and mapping ideas for his future. The Polish-born, Michigan-raised, New York-based artist and producer sees imagery and narrative framework as fluid components to his craft. Alexander’s first album, Loyal, mimicked the hypnotic motions of ocean waves at night, offering melodic, loop-based ambient music as a tribute to the tasteful influence of his mother and aunt. The second Heathered Pearls album, Body Complex, found inspiration from comfort, imperfection, and visions of interior architecture, transforming Loyal’s soft textures into driving 4/4 figures, glacial tone drifts, and starry synth plateaus. His 2017 EP, Detroit, MI 1997 - 2001, reflected on a formative era through ephem- eral dance music. The third Heathered Pearls full-length,


Cast, returns to moodier loop formats joined by the distinctly new presence of the spo- ken word. The move mirrors the multitudes of its namesake: collaborators comprise a cast, healing in the bind of a cast, complex emotions and the shadows they cast. Alexander started work on Cast when living in Berlin and in Queens.

“I hit a wall listening to these tracks when they were instrumental.” This is where he diverged from previous modes, deciding to integrate speech. With a healthy distaste for aspects of performance art, he invited strictly non-scripted recordings, a series of anti-performances. This new format adds a surprising human element to music that has previously operated as sea-shapes or infrastructure. These flashes of language, Alexander’s close friends speaking about things, narratively and cerebrally, casually and profoundly, turn the distinctive Heathered Pearls sound into some- thing surprisingly gritty, tangible, and in certain sweeps, cinematic. It is as if the world outside of these compositions bleeds into the music, casting their verbal being from just off the surface, like the album’s cover artwork where the light hits the plexi object but misses the wall.

Alexander sees his covers as naturally unfinished workstations; the gauzed and patinaed copper on Cast continues in this philosophy. This is all to say Cast deals with absence as much a presence. Among the guest storytellers is Alexander’s friend and tourmate Nick Murphy (formerly Chet Faker), who unwinds a series of tender observations on “Basic Needs.” The swirling synthesizer immerses a series of empathies; feeling like an egg yolk, a window’s view, his love for the color yellow, and wanting yellow to love him back.

With his new album Rhapsodic, Nicolas Repac gives life to the archives of the hunter-gatherer of sounds: Charles Duvelle Nicolas Repac is pursuing the dreamlike magic of his art of sampling with his new album "Rhapsodic". The musician plunged into musicologist Charles Duvelle's pioneering field recordings, in order to deconstruct and revisit rare music archives gleaned from all over the world. Repac ventures into the craziest sonic and stylistic pileups - adding voices, rhythms and traditional music from "every world". He offers some "Rhapsodies" of multicoloured sounds and instrumentals, revisited through the prism of electronic music. He liberates himself from all ethnomusicological coherence to speak directly to the soul and imagination of his listeners - beyond the frontiers of time and space. Grafting heady grooves of traditional percussion from Benin onto sub-Saharan violin refrains, interweaving them with Mongolian morin khuur on a bed of pygmy mouth-bow, Nicolas Repac leads us on the most captivating of immobile journeys, to the heart of the most intimate impulses, the most human pulse.

Dream Violence, Michael Beach’s fourth full-length, is an epic album that explores the duality of the human condition. Or, as Beach himself puts it, the album is about “human futility, passion, desire, anger, frustration, and the struggle to maintain hope in a somewhat hopeless time.” Dream Violence, then, addresses the existential crisis of being an artist in 2020.

Known for his work touring with the Australian guitar pop band Thigh Master and the late, brilliantly eccentric Israeli guitarist Charlie Megira, currently the focus of a number of reissues by the Numero Group, Beach is the architect of a sound that is both well-built and ramshackle, straightforward and indeterminably complex, out of the norm yet familiar in all the best ways.

Dream Violence unfolds like a revelation, filled with sonic tumbleweeds that reference Neil Young’s On the Beach, Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska, the Velvet Underground’s Loaded, and the Go Betweens’ Before Hollywood. Influences ranging from the enigmatic outlier Megira to Glenn Branca to the Oblivians are combined to create a new, exhilarating sound, part of the path that Beach has been on since 2008’s Blood Courses. A veteran of year-end indie rock round ups beginning with Golden Theft in 2013 and continuing with Gravity/Repulsion, released in 2017, Beach distills the best of those early albums and adds sharpened intent.

Dream Violence works beautifully as a start-to-finish album. There are magnificent stand-alone moments: “Spring,” a raggedly building ballad that perfectly captures the ennui attached to new beginnings; “De Facto Blues,” a born-to-lose anthem that, says Beach, “is the sound of people totally at their wits end;” “Curtain of Night,” a simultaneously derelict and bright tribute to the late Megira, which sounds like it could’ve been cut at Muscle Shoals Sound Studio after the Rolling Stones wrapped up sessions for Sticky Fingers; and the delicately vulnerable “You Found Me Out,” which evokes equal parts Lou Reed and Joni Mitchell. On the latter, the lyrics “You found me out, on a ship at sea, you pulled me in, made a wreck of me,” encapsulate “the aimless of a modern world view in a future without hope and the draw/dependence of love in those times,” Beach explains.

Through music, Beach strives to convey both passion and compassion, energy and action. “My hope is that something gets communicated that makes people think outside of themselves or their surroundings,” he says. “To ask questions, and consider the effects of their decisions. To communicate some essential part of the human spirit that understands intuitively how to feel connected to each other rather than divide, exploit, separate, ignore, and all the other heinous shit we have the ability to do with each other.”

Recorded on two continents, Dream Violence documents Beach’s move from Oakland, California to Melbourne, Australia as he navigated a new music scene, plenty of bureaucratic red tape, and, ultimately, citizenship. Parts of the album were recorded and mixed at Tiny Telephone Recording in Oakland, at the end of a 2019 tour with Kelley Stoltz producing. Other tracks were recorded at Beach’s new home in Melbourne, where he could be “relaxed and sloppy in all the right ways,” and partially remixed at Phaedra Studios.

At the Memphis-based Goner label, Beach joins an increasingly unique roster of international musicians that reaches far beyond garage or indie rock to encompass artists like gospel singer Rev. John Wilkins, Kentucky rockers Archaeas, New Orleans iconoclasts Quintron and Miss Pussycat, and no-wavers Optic Sink.

- The definitive overview of one of Canada's unsung musical heroes - Rare/previously unreleased recordings, photos, and interviews - Lyrics, discography, and filmography - Audio re-mastered by John Baldwin Mastering - Artwork by Christi Belcourt and Alanna Edwards - Liner notes by Kevin Howes (Voluntary In Nature) - Contributions from the Dunn family, Bob Robb, and Alanis Obomsawin (OC) // How did you first experience the poetry, music, and film of Willie Dunn? In a Montreal coffeehouse during the mid-1960s? On a CBC Indian Magazine broadcast with host Johnny Yesno? At a Toronto record store or Native Friendship Centre at the turn of the 1970s? Waiting outside of the Mohawk Nation Longhouse? Maybe in your parent's record collection on the Rez? A White Roots of Peace gathering? Pow wow? The Mariposa Folk Festival? Or was it that Save James Bay Benefit back in '73? On a good friend's stereo? Sitting around a crackling campfire? How about an old NFB film reel or VHS tape in high school? Or while attending Manitou College? A German concert hall in the 1980s? Maybe a direct action protest on the colonial streets of Canada? Busking in Ottawa during the 1990s? College radio? At Willie's celebration of life service in 2013 alongside Alanis Obomsawin and Willy Mitchell? LITA's Grammy-nominated Native North America (Vol. 1) compilation or the very anthology you hold in your hands? There should be no judgment for coming to things when you do. All that's important is remaining open to life-changing messages such as these_ Willie Dunn shared truth through song and celluloid. His original composition, "I Pity the Country," is an unparalleled statement on the greed and hate created by humankind, recorded in 1971 and still unfortunately needed today. "It's like the reason you're supposed to make music," said Kurt Vile about the song to MOJO Magazine in 2015. With "Charlie," Willie was the first to deliver the devastating story of Chanie Wenjack and the Canadian residential school system to the music community, nearly 50 years before the much-celebrated Secret Path, yet ignored outside of Indian Country and the folk festival circuit. Dunn's film technique, featured in 1968's The Ballad of Crowfoot (NFB), predates the "Ken Burns effect" to great effect. Are you catching the drift? Willie Dunn was not only a trailblazing leader in his time, but well ahead of the curve, simply without the PR push and big money backing of major label players. "He was our Leonard Cohen," said singer-songwriter Eric Landry about his musical hero. The only difference is that Willie refused to play the Hollywood showbiz game. In talent, he is Cohen, Dylan, and Cash rolled into one and along with Buffy Sainte-Marie, Floyd Red Crow Westerman, and A. Paul Ortega, brought a new set of perspectives and realities to the folk music tradition. Willie spoke directly to his people and Mother Earth through his creations, not only from experience but by examining his roots and connecting with the world in which he lived. We are humbled to help honor Willie Dunn. May he never be forgotten_ PEACE

Calgary songwriter Chad VanGaalen’s new album, ‘World’s Most Stressed Out
Gardener’, is a psychedelic bumper crop. A collection of tunes that does away with
obsessiveness, the anxiety of perfectionism, in favour of freshness and immediacy -
capturing the world as it was met while recording alone at home over a period of
years. “Don’t overthink it,” VanGaalen told himself again and again, despite the
push/pull love/hate of his relationship with songwriting. “I’m always trying to get
outside of the song - but then I realize I love the song.”
This is a record that gleams with VanGaalen’s musical signatures: found sound,
reverb, polychromatic folk music that is by turns cartoonish and hyperphysical - like
ultra-magnified footage of a virus or a leaf. Apparently, the album began life as a
“pretty minimal” flute record. (There’s only a vestige now, on ‘Flute Peace’, one of
three instrumentals.) Later it became an electronic record “for a while” and finally,
“right at the last second,” it “turned into a pile of garbage.” The good kind of
garbage: glinting, useful, free. Music as compost - leaves and branches ready to be
re-ingested by the earth, turned into a flower.
Throughout these 40 minutes, VanGaalen floats from mania to solace to oblivion,
searching for zen in all the wrong places. “Turn up the radio / I think we’re dead,”
he sings on ‘Nothing Is Strange’; or, on the inside-out rocker ‘Nightmare Scenario’:
“You’re stressed out when you should be feeling very well.” The singer’s mental
landscape is rotting and redemptive, beautiful in spite of itself - and his soundscapes
reflect this fertile decay.
He has been influenced by his instrumental work on TV scores (Dream Corp’s third
season began this fall) but still “nothing can really replace the human voice,” he
admits. Like Arthur Russell or Syd Barrett, it’s VanGaalen’s vocals that shine a path
through the swampland - from the cello-lashed ‘Water Brother’ to ‘Starlight’’s
krautrock pipe-dream.
These days, VanGaalen cherishes the privacy of the studio, the capacity to wander
around, get distracted, and “move at the speed of life.” Whereas once he would
obsess over mic techniques, now he puts the microphone in the same place every
time - trying to capture a song quickly, the idea at its heart. He’ll act on his
infatuations - for the flute, a squeaky clarinet, his basement’s copper plumbing
(remade into xylophones for ‘Samurai Sword’) - and then he’ll try to get out, “veering
away from responsibility,” before he overdoes his stay.
In the end, it’s like gardening. You have to live with your horrible decision-making;
the weather’s going to mess with you if it wants to; and if you plant a hundred
heads of broccoli, “now you gotta eat a hundred heads of broccoli - or watch them
go to seed.” But mostly VanGaalen just tries to be a deer: “I remember seeing some
deer come out in the Okanagan Valley once,” he says, “watching them wait for a
sunbeam to hit a perfect bunch of grapes - and then eating them right out of the
sunbeam. I’d recommend that.”
Initial LP copies pressed on clear with gold, red and blue high melt coloured vinyl.

“Nothing ever really disappears,” Cassandra Jenkins says. “It just changes shape.” Over the past few years, she’s seen relationships altered, travelled three continents, wandered through museums and parks, and recorded free-associative guided tours of her New York haunts. Her observations capture the humanity and nature around her, as well as thought patterns, memories, and attempts to be present while dealing with pain and loss. With a singular voice, Jenkins siphons these ideas into the ambient folk of her new album.
An Overview on Phenomenal Nature honors flux, detail, and moments of intimacy. Jenkins arrived at engineer Josh Kaufman’s studio with ideas rather than full songs — nevertheless, they finished the album in a week. Jenkins’ voice floats amid sensuous chamber pop arrangements and raw-edged drums, ferrying us through impressionistic portraits of friends and strangers. Her lyrics unfold magical worlds, introducing you to a cast of characters like a local fisherman, a psychic at a birthday party, and driving instructor of a spiritual bent.

Jenkins’ last record, 2017’s Play Till You Win, confirmed the veteran artist’s talent. Evident of Jenkins’ experience growing up in a family band in New York City, the album showcased her meticulous songwriting and musicianship, earning her comparisons to George Harrison and Emmylou Harris. Jenkins has since played in the bands of Eleanor Friedberger, Craig Finn, and Lola Kirke, and rehearsed to tour with Purple Mountains last August before the tour’s cancellation. Her new record departs from her previous work in its openness and flexibility, following her peripatetic lifestyle. “The goal is to be more fluid, to be more like the clouds shifting constantly,” she says. The approach allowed Jenkins to express herself like she never has.

On album opener “Michaelangelo,” before the heavy drum beat and fuzz guitars enter, Jenkins sings quietly “I’m a three-legged dog, working with what I’ve got / and part of me will always be looking for what I lost // there’s a fly around my head, waiting for the day I drop dead.” Phenomenal Nature thrives in this dichotomy between ornate sonics and verbal frankness, a calming guided tour to the edge. Later, on “Crosshairs,” amid lush strings, she sings conversationally: “Empty space is my escape / it runs through me like a river / while time spits in my face.”

“Hard Drive,” the third track and album centerpiece, opens with a voice memo Jenkins recorded at The Met Breuer: a guard muses about Mrinalini Mukherjee’s hybrid textile and sculpture works, which were then on display in a retrospective titled Phenomenal Nature. “When we lose our connection to nature, we lose our spirit, our humanity,” she explains. Stuart Bogie's saxophone & Josh Kaufman's glittering guitar make way for Jenkins' spoken word which constellates scenes from her life, gradually building and blossoming as she recreates a meditation guided by a friend who incants, “One, two, three.”

Sounds of footsteps and bird calls run through the album’s glittering conclusion, “The Ramble.” Meditative and bright, it recalls how Jenkins felt while writing and recording her new material: “Everything else is falling apart, so let’s just enjoy this time,” she said. If Phenomenal Nature has a unifying theme, it’s the power of presence, the joy of walking in a world in constant flux and opening oneself to change.

Cardinal Fuzz and Feeding Tube Records are pleased to announce ‘DATALAND’, a collaboration between Dead Sea Apes, Black Tempest and Adam Stone achieved mainly through internet data transfer during the Covid lockdown of 2020. Insistent, evolving electronic sounds encounter a variety of guitars and percussion, from the clockwork kosmische of 'Lost Hours' to the stumbling nosie dub of 'Shop Soiled', while Adam Stone's words meditate on life in the post-industrial west, our increasingly atomised and data-driven society and its logical conclusion in a corporatised dystopia.
'Dataland' is a meditation upon the average existence of a 'developed-world' human in the early 21st century. Whilst not struggling with the harsh physical demands of industrial labour as we did in the recent past, our plight continues to embody the melancholia and confusion of alienation. Under the bewildering complexity of rationalised social and economic systems, we may indeed have become unwitting prisoners within, what the sociologist Max Weber termed, "the iron cage of bureaucracy" - tripping the minutes away in a daily pantomime of data-driven surrealism. This six song collection is a fusion of electronica, monologue, 'real drums' and guitar, and was recorded at various locations in sad old England over the last two years or so. An almost psychedelic sense of puzzlement, nausea and fatigue accompanies being lost in the omnipresent number-generating machines and anti-human modelling systems that now run our world. This is the realisation that defines the essence of the album - that your life is now only as real as what is displayed on the screen of your constant technological companion.

Be assured that even dawning on sixty and with a career spanning more than 30 years, Popa Chubby continues to fight against the injustices of this world !
And the least we can say about 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic is that it offered him the “magnificent” inspiration that fed into the creation of his new album “Tinfoil Hat”! As he writes himself, this record’s creation was self-evident from the beginning of the first lockdown in March.
Back at his base in the Hudson Valley and following his last show played in Florida, our man immediately wanted to send a message of empathy and support to his fans, and that’s how the song “Can I Call You My Friends?” was conceived. The reaction was so sudden, warm, and intense that he found there was enough material for continuing this “dialogue” by composing other songs that today form the framework for “Tinfoil Hat.”
The whole thing was entirely “homemade,” recorded and played by Popa Chubby with the extra Guts and Soul that great causes often bring to life. “Tinfoil Hat” and the 11 songs that make it up were born from a mixture of love, despair, fear, frustration, pain, joy, sorrow, resolution and the leap into the great unknown imposed by the coronavirus that has been with all of us all since last
March. The Trump administration’s chaotic and reckless management of the crisis provided Popa Chubby with the inspiration for uncompromising lyrics. Like those of the title song (supported by, to say the least, an explicit clip) or themes such as “You Ain’t Said Shit,” “No Justice, No Peace,” or “Another Day In Hell.”
Without forgetting to pass on messages of hope (“Someday Soon, Change Is Gonna Come”) or even for good behavior in the face of the virus with “Baby Put On Your Mask.” In the album notes, he writes, “Like all of you, this pandemic has pushed me to the very edge of my humanity. But the music, the sweet music, has put me back on the right path once again. So I offer this work with humility and the deep devotion I have for you!”. That says it all!

British artist Robin Rimbaud (Scanner) traverses the experimental terrain between sound and space connecting a bewilderingly diverse array of genres. Since 1991 he has been intensely active in sonic art, producing concerts, installations and recordings, the albums Mass Observation (1994), Delivery (1997), and The Garden is Full of Metal (1998) hailed by critics innovative and inspirational works of contemporary electronic music. Committed to working with cutting edge practitioners he has collaborated with Bryan Ferry, Wayne McGregor, Mike Kelley, Carsten Nicolai, Michael Nyman, Steve McQueen, Laurie Anderson and Hussein Chalayan, amongst many others.

Rimbaud first met Belgian artist Hans Op de Beeck at Le Fresnoy Studio national des Arts Contemporains when they were both Visiting Professors in 2012. Op de Beeck lives and works in Brussels, Belgium and creates sculpture, installations, video, photography, animated films, drawing, painting, and writing. His various works show the viewer non-existent, but identifiable places, moments and characters that appear to have been taken from everyday life.

The artists found an immediate creative connection, and a year after meeting Staging Silence (2) was completed. In 2019, they returned to the theme and created Staging Silence (3).

Each of the films is realised through the same principles, as two pairs of anonymous hands construct and deconstruct fictional interiors and landscapes on a mini film set of just three-square metres in size. The films take the viewer on a visual journey through depopulated, enigmatic and often melancholic, but nonetheless playful, small-scaled places, which are built up and taken down before the eye of the camera.

Ranging from hyper-realistic fictional land and cityscapes to absurd, almost surreal, dreamscapes, the various locations are connected by the sense of mystery and melancholy that pervades them. And at every moment Rimbaud's score is amplifying and illustrating these moments, from tragedy to nostalgia, witty to optimistic.

Introspective and lyrical, Staging Silence offers us a world of mystery and intrigue, held together by nature and time. This is a very humane works experienced at a time when many of us feel disconnected from the world around us. The peculiar silence that permeates this hauntingly beautiful work is very much an illustration of our times, anticipating a future in the past. Staging Silence is an exquisite study in dreamlike abstract ambience, a kaleidoscope of sounds and tones that engage the head and the heart.

WRWTFWW Records is beaucoup happy to announce the official reissue of Pierre Barouh's hard-to-describe-but-easy-to-enjoy French flair meets Japanese avant-garde lost treasure of experimental-electronic-chanson-pop with a new-wave-minimal-bossa touch, Le Pollen. Originally recorded July 1982 at Nippon Columbia Studio in Tokyo and composed, arranged, and played by a who's who of Japan's most groundbreaking musicians of the 80s, the album comes as a LP with bonus 7inch, housed in a heavy sleeve displaying two immaculate photos of Barouh and holding a printed lyrics insert.

A free-spirited world traveler with an incredible ear for music, Paris-born singer and activist Pierre Barouh introduced the sounds of Brazil (and more) to Europe and pushed the envelope with his pio-neering label Saravah, home of adventurous innovators Brigitte Fontaine, Areski, Jacques Higelin, Naná Vasconcelos, and Roland Bocquet's Catharsis among many others. His bohemian border-free vision of modern chanson, blending musical tradition from various parts of the globe with forward-looking artistry, resonated particularly well in Japan, where the scene spearheaded by Yellow Magic Orchestra fell in love with everything Barouh.

And so one day in 1981, Pierre Barouh received an invitation from a Japanese label to come record an album in Tokyo. Not one to turn down an escapade around the world, the French visionary jumped on a plane and landed in a studio surrounded with a dream line-up of musicians: Yukihiro Takahashi (who had named his solo debut Saravah! after Barouh's imprint) and Ryuichi Sakamoto of YMO, Yasuaki Shimizu and his Mariah bandmates Masanori Sasaji and Hideo Yamaki, members of the Moonriders, Motohiko Hamase, Mitsuru Sawamura of Interior, Kazuhiko Katoh and the list goes on. Also participating in the making of the album were longtime collaborator Francis Laï and the mys-terious and beautiful David Sylvian.

The result is Le Pollen, a sincere and affectionate mix of nouveau chanson, techno-pop, post-punk, jazz, bossa, ambient, and minimalism. And probably something else entirely. Honestly impossible to classify in a particular genre, Pierre Barouh's fascinating cosmopolitan music melting pot is, above all, a reassuring ode to humanity, where friendship, exchange, and collaborative creativity breeze freely. Making music together. It's all love.

Pierre Barouh sadly passed away in December 2016, leaving behind a monumental legacy of music and art for us to cherish, and a life philosophy that's well worth considering:

La vie, qu'elle soit longue ou brève
Moi, tous mes rêves
Je les prends toujours au sérieux
Quand l'utopie brise les chaînes
C'est l'oxygène,
De ceux qui sont restés curieux

Life, be it long or brief
Me, all my dreams
I always take them seriously
When utopia breaks the chains
It's the oxygen,
Of those who've remained curious

From the song "L'Autre Rive" on Le Pollen.

‘PEACEMEAL’ is yet another reinvention for Ron
Gallo - a human being on a lifelong chase of
himself and using music as the main vehicle.
On his third LP, he exits the noisy confines of the
garage and goes outside where there’s no limit to
embracing all aspects of himself.
The result is a colourful hodgepodge of 90’s hiphop, r&b, weirdo pop, jazz and punk. The sounds
change but the sense of humanity, humour and a
truly eccentric worldview is the common thread in
all of Gallo’s music.
Mostly written and recorded during a period of
self-isolation in summer 2019, it’s an uncanny
foreshadowing of the global situation that was to
come and give all the songs a new meaning. This
is feel-good music that attempts to confront and
understand human existence.
Ron Gallo just wants to be himself, destroy
expectations and encourage you to do the same in
a world that does just about everything to try and
box us in - not to mention, this is his best most
fun one yet.