Suche:i lp o in dub

Here is another mystery from the universe comming straight out from London! Popping up from nowhere, don’t expect any infos about the person behind, it’s a very well kept secret… actually Tutu Ta reached us by telepathy to propose this sensationnal album for Macadam Mambo.

A concentrate of punkish dubby tunes combining ruffness, deepness, darkness, light, humour and serious vocals on very heavy beats and supa loud basslines. It’s raw but so gracefull in the meantime, 12 tracks, 47 min of pure bliss that won’t leave you on your knees, grab it fast it’s high demands style of music 

Founding member of Buffalo Springfield and folk-rock supergroup Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Stills' first solo album, Stephen Stills, earned a gold record, is the only album to feature both Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton, and climbed to #3 on the album charts. Stephen Stills’ single "Love the One You're With" became his biggest solo hit, peaking at number 14 on the Billboard Hot 100 and is the first track on this collection. 14 tracks from Stephen Still’s First US Tour, previously unissued and recorded Live at The Berkeley Community Theater in 1971, featuring David Crosby on two songs. In 1971 Stephen Stills embarked on a US tour, opening each show with an intimate acoustic first set, and closing each night with a riveting electric set featuring the Memphis Horns. These historic, previously unreleased recordings took place over two nights at the Berkeley Community Theater, with David Crosby joining him on vocals and guitar for "You Don’t Have To Cry" and "The Lee Shore." These recordings find Stills at peak performance in both vocal delivery and musicianship, effortlessly incorporating alternate instrumentation on his instantly recognizable tracks, including a seamless medley of “49 Bye Byes" and "For What It’s Worth” unexpectedly played on piano. Hand-picked by Stills from his personal archives, this album captures timeless and era defining performances. Fans who were lucky enough to catch his historic debut trek, dubbed “The Memphis Horns Tour,” were treated to the balladeer, the raving troubadour, the acoustic bluesman, the soul driver, and by far the most passionate music maker. Backed by a loyal cast of friends, including his usual steady rhythm section—drummer Dallas Taylor and bassist Calvin “Fuzzy” Samuels—along with keyboardist Paul Harris, guitarist Steve Fromholz, and percussionist Joe Lala, these Northern California shows were one of the most unique and intimate stops on the tour This album, rather than being an artifact from a bygone era, sparkles and stimulates. It cajoles you into thinking, feeling and—most importantly—moving. Stephen Stills Live At Berkeley 1971 is a cornucopia of priceless sound—and all of it bears the distinct and loving fingerprint of Stephen Stills.

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.

Recorded at Channel One and Randy's with a mix done at King Tubby's. 'Love Train' highlights The Revolutionaries 'rockers' sound and is a 'showcase' album which means the corresponding dub follows each vocal track. The album contains the original vocal cut of West Man Rock which was dee-jay'ed over by Ken Quatty under the same title, plus some outstanding Revolutionaries dubs of Jerry's vocal tracks. 'Love Train', was originally issued by Burning Sounds' sublabel Burning Rockers on red vinyl in 1979. Burning Sounds have on this re-issue album kept the original colour and label.

Classic UK roots and steppers from Pablo Gad, incl. Hard Times & Dub.

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

Following on from his 2020 solo debut "Tyson, Crying", Walker further refines his electronic sound, landing somewhere between techno, dub and house.

Incendiary pieces of electronic music that masterfully ascend to the spirit realm to elicit a perfect amount of gurn. Containing tracks that are equally at home on the steroid laden beaches of Ibiza as they are at a house party being played to the last lobotomised dregs circling the bags at 5am. Perfectly crafted - both lush and sparse at the same time - Walker takes the psychedelic, krauty sensibilities of King Gizzard and launches them into an electronic universe.

Das Bristoler Jazz-Kollektiv Ishmael Ensemble verdeutlicht mit "Visions Of Light", dem Nachfolger ihres gefeierten Debüts "A State Of Flow" (2019, "Album Of The Month" Mojo, The Guardian), wie zwischenmenschliche Beziehungen unter den Musikern atemberaubend ehrgeizige und emotional eindrucksvolle Kompositionen entstehen lassen können. Unter Leitung des Saxofonisten Pete Cunningham hat sich das Ensemble als explosive neue Kraft im UK Jazz profiliert, deren cineastischen Tracks Dub und elektronisches Feingefühl aus der vitalen Bristoler Szene kombinieren. Cunninghams Aufstieg als gefragter Produzent führte zu Remixen für Techno-Legende Carl Craig und das legendäre Blue Note-Label.

Before he was old enough to legally drink, there were "Best Of," rarities compilations, and .zip files floating through the ether.

Whenever industry prospectors earmarked him as the next big thing, he disappeared back underground, only to reemerge sharper, leaner, weirder.

Though only 26, the St. Louis- born rapper and producer has seen enough for several lifetimes--and raps as if he's tapped into many more. But after a few years of highs, lows, and traumatic odysseys, he was able to stare straight into the abyss and conquer it. This regained confidence is exhibited on fish don't climb trees, the largely self-produced new album that reaffirms him as one of rap's great auteurs.

While working on "fish", he vowed to be more true to the emotions and experiences he'd endured. Being true to those fractured, discordant feelings requires a prismatic approach. And so you get fish's exhilarating hairpin turns: from downtempo dub ("bora bora") to 808s rattling through a haunted house ("tourniquet"), beats that sound as if they're molting into new shapes in real time (the two- song suite of "daze" and "grey theory") to ones that that plunge to the
bottom of a pocket ("spirits").

The album's title comes from the maybe-apocryphal Einstein quote, about how a fish judged by its ability to climb trees will "spend its whole life believing it is stupid." For Watson, this meant embracing the cheery first half of the quote ("Everybody is a genius"), but also being cognizant of the dark undercurrents that flow just beneath seemingly innocent misjudgments and mis-categorizations.

The Rephlex alumni and Rinse.fm resident DMX Krew channels Prince’s spirit in this new electro-pop maxi on Cold Blow.

Picking up his electro-pop and synth-funk hat from where it was laid on 2022’s Party Life LP, Ed DMX is switching gears and picking up the pace with four dance-inducing tracks. Another one of the brilliant releases that we’ve become to expect from the consistently hot Cold Blow! The titular track “Still Got It” is a brand new production with vocal and dub versions of driving bassline and Linn fills, exclaiming “I still got the music in me, and it sets me free!” amidst heartbreak. Teardrops on the dancefloor, anyone?

On the flip side, we are treated with an archive gem from the Rephlex era! The Telex-like pacey vocoder synth pop “Paranoia” was recorded around the time of “We Are DMX” album in 1999, and what a treat it is!

The closing track is the only previously released one. A dub version of “Cold Love” borrowed from the Japan-exclusive, CD-only 2005 album “Kiss Goodbye” which Cold Blow has announced to be reissued soon!

Coming in blazing-hot off the heels of their very welcome reunion set for the recent Glossolalia LP, Dave Aju & The Invisible Art Trio are apparently out for no mercy here on their potent Elbow Grease debut for the label’s third offering.

“Next 2 You” was a deep jam session-based composition started overseas some 8+ years back in an earlier
incarnation, with the raw-edged flavors and voodoo feels of the OG underground era and has now been unearthed and blessed for pure dancefloor detonation by the everelusive LA-based musical squad.

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

Part of Tele Music Reissue Campaign, 2023 first time reissue, 140g vinyl

Wow! Pierre-Alain Dahan & Mat Camison's Rythmiques is another iconic release in the hallowed Tele Music catalogue. First appearing in 1973, it features tense funk, blunted jazz and heavy breaks all the way. Considered the rightful sequel to Continental Pop Sound, it's a vital album for producers and DJs; and you can probably guess that RHYTHM is central to the record's presentation. And you can really taste what's rhythm, to borrow a phrase. French drummer, percussionist and composer Pierre-Alain Dahan was a key member of the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Mallia et al!) and Jef Gilson Septet whilst his partner here, Mat Camison, was a pioneering synth LORD. So, you know this Be With reissue is absolutely crucial.

The album picks up from where Continental Pop Sound left us, opening with the tense, stabbing thriller-funk of "Rythmiques N° 4". The dubbier "Rythmiques N° 5" is no less electric and definitely has a spacey air of wonky funk about it with the slightly off-kilter rolling piano. "Rythmiques N° 6" is more percussive-focussed with a brilliantly hypnotic opening that really stretches the drama out. “Rythmique N° 7” alternates between fast-paced, skipping drums and slo-mo funk, always with the clavinet high up in the mix. Wicked. The dope jazz of “Rythmique N° 8” truly mesmerises with licks of electric piano, funky bass flourishes and varied percussion. “Rythmique N° 9” has great, sloppy-yet-hard intro drums which sound like something Daft Punk could've pilfered circa Human After All, punctuated by a guitar rock refrain that repeats til the end but is never overdone. The A-Side closes with the beautiful, melancholic "Piano + Piano", a reflective jazzy piano track which could easily open a wide-ranging set this autumn and many after it. Stunning.

Opening Side B, "Auto Rythmiques" is a hectic yet compelling funk workout but it's all about the frankly devastating breakbeats on “Rythmiques N° 10 & N° 11” with effortlessly twisted funk bass lines over open drum breaks and enough tension and rhythmic switch-ups to keep your neck-snapping and your mind lifted. Downright essential. Taking leave from the heavy funk break action, the pastoral "Océan Horizon" is perhaps an unfairly overlooked highlight. A gorgeous, softly-aquatic, ambient gem, it's gently percussive with warm, floaty keys decorating the mellow rhythmic bed. The mercifully brief "Super Carrousel" is harmless fun-fair-funk but perhaps best skipped over whilst the intriguingly titled "Gay Shopping" is another throwaway exercise in inexcusable jaunt whilst. To close out this memorable set, thankfully, we're left with "Suspense N° 1" to get us back on course with its unsurprisingly tense mix of urgent stringed instruments that flirt with rhythm and melody yet the longer the track goes on. Deep.

One of the very best French drummers ever, Pierre-Alain Dahan began his career at the Blue Note in Paris with Sonny Stitt, Dexter Gordon and Daniel Humair. Some start, eh?! He also participated in the recording of Serge Gainsbourg's cult album 'La Ballade de Melody Nelson' before going on to make countless KILLER library funk records and be a key member in the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Sauveur Mallia et al), Jef Gilson Septet (alongside Henri Texier) and many more. Some pedigree.

The audio for Rythmiques has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce The Leisure Principle, a new solo LP from London-based bassist and sound artist Otto Willberg. A key player in the London underground, Willberg is often heard on acoustic and electric bass in free improv settings and bands with Laurie Tompkins (Yes Indeed) and Charles Hayward (Abstract Concrete), as well as the fractured No Wave unit Historically Fucked. His previous solo releases have ranged from extended technique double bass to explorations of the acoustics of a 19th century artillery fort. But nothing Willberg has committed to wax so far prepares a listener for The Leisure Principle, six unashamedly melodic improvisational workouts created almost entirely with heavily filtered bass harmonica and electric bass. On the opening ‘Reap What Thou Sow’, a single-note bass harmonica loop pulses along underneath a roaming bass solo, the side-chained envelope filtering (where the dynamic behaviour of the bass determines the filter for both bass and harmonica) fusing the two instruments into a single stream of burbling shifts in resonance. After several minutes of patient exploration of this low-end landscape, the music suddenly opens up in widescreen with the entrance of Sam Andreae’s graceful melodica chords, spreading out across the stereo field. From this epic opener, each of the remaining pieces goes on to explore a slightly different aspect of the terrain. On ‘Shadow Came into the Eyes as Earth Turned on its Axis’, a similarly buoyant harmonica bass line provides the foundation, but this time playing a soulful descending riff, its almost R&B feel abstracted and half-obscured by the filtering. On ‘Mollusk’, echoed bass arpeggios skitter between elegiac chords somewhat reminiscent of the opening of John Abercrombie’s ‘Timeless’, before settling into a hypnotic groove. On the record’s second half, Willberg pushes further into the possibilities of his idiosyncratic instrumentation. On ‘Wetter’, bass and harmonica come together into a monstrous, growling jaw harp; on ‘Had we but world enough and more time’, the subtly shifting pulsating patterns start to feel almost like a kind of evaporated, drum-less dub techno until an eruption of wheezing bass harmonica gives the piece a comically folkish turn. Willberg’s melodically inventive and virtuosic bass performance calls to mind any number of fusion touchstones, from Jaco Pastorius to Mark Egan’s singing tone in the early Pat Metheny Group—even Anthony Jackson’s work with Steve Kahn. But with its radically reduced instrumentation, The Leisure Principle is also an exercise in minimalism, and the absence of percussion gives even its funkiest moments a strangely abstracted quality. At times, its uncanny blend of the abstruse and the immediate suggests the fried pop experiments of David Rosenboom or the skewed but deeply musical DIY of 80s underground groups like De Fabriek. Both easy on the ear and profoundly strange, The Leisure Principle proudly takes its place among the most eccentric offerings on the Black Truffle menu.

Founded in 1971, Matumbi was among the earliest and best British reggae bands. They did, however, also record under different guises, including The 4th Street Orchestra. In their acclaimed Rough Guide to Reggae, Steve Barrow and Peter Dalton rate this album (and its counterpart Leggo! Ah-Fi-We-Dis) as "the best showcase for Matumbi's talents". This release marks the first LP reissue of this genuine UK roots-monument since 1976.

Original member Dennis 'Blackbeard' Bovell (of LKJ and Dub Band fame) knew the local sound system-scene like the back of his hand and most tracks on Ah Who Seh? Go Deh! were initially cut as exclusive 'specials' for his own Jah Sufferer sound system and for fellow soundmen. Hardly anyone hearing these tunes at reggae parties or would have guessed they didn't originate in Kingston but were recorded in London. And neither did many who bought the records when they were released a few years later. That's hardly surprising, as the material Bovell & Co churned out could easily compete with the toughest output of their Jamaican counterparts. A splendid version of the 1970 Kingstonians smash "Singer Man" is the most familiar tune here. But it's the band's own outstanding, heavyweight roots tunes like "Jah Chase Dem" or "Za-Ion", their versions popping up later in true sound system style for maximum impact, that will have reggae fans prick up their ears.

Ah Who Seh? Go-Deh! is available as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on orange coloured vinyl.

The Skankin' Monks featuring Kenyatta Hill making a big tribute to his father, the legendary Culture vocalist, Mr. Joseph Hill. Babylon's Big Dog is a rearranged remake of the Culture classic from 1982's Lion Rock LP.

The Skankin' Monks are a reggae formation from Amsterdam that gets inspiration from several styles. In 2013, they had a big hit with singer 'CHEZIDEK's "ALL MY LIFE" - Since then they collaborated with artists like Eek-A-Mouse, Meta Dia, Kenyatta Hill & Christos DC etc.. The Monks meditate on the music they're creating & they have only one goal; to let everyone enjoy the musical zen in unity.

repressed !

Undesignated remixes is an expansive project containing 12 remixes of tracks from dgoHn’s iconic 2020 full-length by some choice artists from in and around the Love Love sphere. Remixes that take dgoHn’s unique razor-sharp original productions and send them through a loop and round the twist, some stripped down, some messed up, most but not all maintaining the speedier tempos that dgoHn likes to work around. The result is a collection of seriously futuristic electronic music with some stylistic leanings towards labels like braindance or drumfunk or jungle but completely genre-eluding as a whole, reshaped from the minerals of the original LP by some absolute dons of their craft.

Opening the album Equinox does a fantastic job highlighting the lushness of ‘Puppet’ layering sky-high sunshine pads before sliding into Meat Beat Manifesto’s heavy sci-fi acid dub version of ‘Daisy Takes Two’. A woozy remix of ‘Lucky Gonk’ by Macc & dgoHn marks the first new material from them as a duo since ’09 and Wisp also makes a rare appearance bringing his inimitable post-rephlexian vibes on an agonisingly wonderful, melody-heavy remix of 'Electryon'. Skee Mask’s choice of remixing ‘Robin’s Windmill’ turns the original into a bundle of writhing rhythms organically unfolding with swelling ambient tones. Homegrown heroes Rognvald & Scrase both opt for pumped up post-breakcore in unconventional time signatures while Djrum emphatically provides the LP’s dose of peak jungle choppage, tempering the drum breaks of ‘Ninnyhammer’ with a blistering amen. Also featured on the LP are crisp and beefy drum workouts courtesy of Coco Bryce and Forest Drive West, visceral and apocalyptic half-time bass from Activia Benz affiliated duo Quavis and virtuosic noir-jazz tearout from fellow East-Anglian Carl Brown.

This classic album from 1973 saw its creator, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry exploring synths and starting to develop his Black Ark sound - the enigmatic producer was at the time in the process of building his famous studio and honing his ideas about dub as a musical form.

The LP opens with the eerie “Kentucky Skank”, Perry’s ode to KFC, complete with frying chicken sounds, spliced between winding tapes, a ghostly trumpet, and futuristic moog synthesizer, overdubbed at London’s Chalk Farm studios.

U Roy’s “Double Six” and I Roy’s “High Fashion” & “Hail Stones” illustrate just how strong The Upsetter’s deejay material had become, while versions of the Chi-Lites’ “We Are Neighbours”, Sam & Dave’s “Soul Man” and a re-working of Al Green’s “Love and Happiness” (retitled “Jungle Lion”) all betray the funky soul influence that was increasingly shaping his work.

The backing tracks illustrate the producer at his best; the audio spectrum is fully differentiated while spatial placement an important component - something it would take years for him to achieve at the Black Ark.

Double Seven is available as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on silver coloured vinyl

. It started in a cafe in Chico, California, with a flier, covered in glitter, wires, feathers, and assorted melted items, with a three-word advertisement: “Noise person wanted.” It wasn’t a sign. It was a sample. A tiny piece lifted from the visionary environment that the band XDS would continue building over the next couple of decades, hoarding an eclectic stockpile of collage materials/influences/approaches for assembling psychedelic dance-punk jams played with homemade instruments, blown-out samples, off-kilter drumming and dub baselines. Shoko Horikawa had come from Japan to (the small, music-crazy college town) Chico for school, and responded to Jesse Hall’s mysterious flier and a pitch to collaborate on making interesting sounds. The partnership would end up featuring her syncopated polyrhythmic drums alongside his vocals (through a duct tape-and-PVC-pipe mic) and custom-built Guitar-o-bass, plus synths/samplers and various noise-making devices. The two-piece Experimental Dental School eventually morphed into XDS as the duo moved the operation from Chico to Oakland to Portland and back to Chico, touring the world (playing alongside the likes of Deerhoof and other innovators) and releasing 11 recordings (on Cochon Records, German label TCWGA, etc.) as they went. On the new XDS album, Bicycle Ripper, the band’s genre-bending roots are as deep as ever, but the goal now is to be less “noise” people and more “fun” people. The songs are weird yet cohesive, with jittery grooves and inventive hooks. Throw a dart at the album and hit “Hot Panther, Cold Moon” for one random sample: an unrelenting fuzzed-out bass dances with a insistent drums; a sharp turn into sparse tin-can-guitar break; then a return to the dance floor with a bonus overdriven bass riff and full-throttle drums. The Panther stays hot whether she’s under the “hot hot sun” or the “cold cold moon.” It’s all very irresistible and, yes, really really fun