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Introducing "The Mesmerizers," a mysterious trio of maestros whose debut 7" record transports you to a bygone era of exotic enchantment. Unearthed from the depths of a forgotten studio and given new life, these captivating compositions beckon you into a timeless realm where the boundaries of sound and imagination blur. Within the sultry grooves of this vinyl treasure, The Mesmerizers weave a spellbinding tapestry of exotica, echoing the seductive rhythms and lush melodies reminiscent of a golden age that refuses to be tethered to any specific moment.

The Cat's Miaow return to World Of Echo with Skipping Stones: The Cassette Years '92-'93, their second compilation for the imprint, and the fourth in a loosely defined series of reissues associated with the group (also including The Shapiros' Gone By Fall: The Collected Works of The Shapiros and Hydroplane's Selected Songs 1997-2003). It's a smart selection of songs by one of Australia's finest independent pop music groups, whose initial run, across the nineties, was as mysterious as it was bewitching. A generous double album featuring thirty-five songs drawn from The Cat's Miaow's history, Skipping Stones lets listeners in on a bunch more secrets. The four cassettes that Skipping Stones draws from - Little Baby Sour Puss, Pet Sounds (both 1992), From My Window, and How Did Everything Get So Fucked Up (both 1993) - were released or assisted by Toytown, a Melbourne cassette label of rare taste, savvy and intelligence. Diving into that two-year period, Skipping Stones is full of surprises, rich with unexpected and inspired detours, while reminding everyone just how clear and distinct The Cat's Miaow's music was from the very start. Looking in from the outside, they always felt like a group that knew just what they were doing, but intuitive as they are, they weren't forcing anything: these songs always sound exactly what they need to be, rough edges, playful moments and all. The Cat's Miaow may have been bedroom dreamers, but their songs were richly informed, with the sweetest of girl-pop moves sashaying into walls of tremolo-d and distorted guitar, jangling six strings tangling with melodic bass that's pure Peter Hook/Naomi Yang, while the gentle trickle of a drum machine or the earthy twitch of brushes on drum skins provided the spine for Kerrie's and Bart's lovely, unforced singing. This double LP on World Of Echo feels like the very core of the thing - some of the most heartbreakingly beautiful, effortlessly lush and deeply moving pop music you're likely to hear. RIYL: Hydroplane, The Cannanes, Magnetic Fields, Belle and Sebastian, Jesus and Mary Chain

Sleap-e is reclaiming herself. The Italian singer-songwriter’s second album, 8106, captures the spirit of play; the child-like instinct to pursue what you love without compromise - and here it is, that particular magic that rarely survives adulthood, remarkably intact. Each of its eleven songs are vibrant shards which build a mosaic of Asia Martina Morabito’s world: the growing pains of your early twenties, remaining faithful to your dreams despite the hostility of adulthood, places of escape both real and imagined - and the pulse of Bologna, her home and north star. As a student of old-school iconoclasts like The Fall and inspired by the outsider streak of Jimmy Whispers and Daniel Johnston, it was not any particular musical quality of theirs which Asia wanted to channel in Sleap-e, but their confidence to “explode in a raw, free and authentic way.” Though her sound has shifted from the tender bedroom pop of her 2020 EP Mellow and her 2022 debut album Pouty Lips which was bedecked with jubilant brass and Mediterranean rhythms, it’s her self-belief which endures. 8106 is Sleap-e’s most raucous, unpolished and playful offering to date, steeped in the influence of “egg-punk”, an internet-grown genre which seeks to satirise the tropes of punk with its danceable irreverence. There is joy to be found, Asia feels, in refusing to conform, and it has brought her closer to herself than ever before. But to gain her sense of self, first, she had to lose sight of it. Summer of 2023, when the outlines of the record were made, was a difficult time for her. 8106 was the number of the hotel room she felt confined to, alone and adrift from comfort when she was working away from home. Writing this album was her getaway car. “It represents an important choice I made,” she explains. “I chose happiness. I chose myself.” The title represents a kind of mental post-it note reminding herself to stay focused on what she loves; it’s a talisman to protect her from hard times. She returned home, and there she began recording the album in residency at the Bronson Club, a hive of like-minded creatives and mentors who helped it take its final form. At home, her own music was played freely and instinctively. The artwork for 8106 is by Noemi Vola, a prolific Bolognian illustrator and author who specialises in designs for children, which reflects the “funky, fairytale mood” of the record itself.

The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours was made with the black watch bandmates and producers/engineers Rob Campanella (Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Tyde, The Warlocks) and Andy Creighton (The World Record, Parson Red Heads). Ben Eshbach, formerly of The Sugarplastic, arranged the strings. Kesha Rose guests on lead vocals on the second single, Oh Do Shut Up. And the great Lindsay Murray once again lends her beautiful backing vox to a number of tracks.

the black watch songwriter/frontman John Andrew Fredrick wrote the ten songs on this, his Los Angeles-based band's latest album, entirely unselfconsciously, with no set goal in mind other than to revel in the joy of songwriting, and, eventually, the luxury of recording his music with his more-than-accomplished band. The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours, produced separately and together by Rob Campanella and Andy Creighton evinces the black watch's often stunning ability to, as Andy Gill once observed in The Independent, "find chaos in the calm, melody in the miasma."

Fredrick, who has also published four comedic novels and a book on the early films of Wes Anderson, jovially describes himself as "a recovering Anglophile--one who'll never, one hopes, fully recover." From his home studio in the Angeleno Heights district of L.A., he waxes eloquent about how being branded, as it were, as a too-ardent lover of British music, film, and literature has left him as bemused as has the tag "prolific" that is often affixed to reviews of his work.

"I just don't think it's all that interesting to note that we've made so many records. Looked at one way, it's a sort of deflection from talking about the timbre if not the quality of the individual songs. Though I know it can be intimidating for fans who've just discovered us--a sort of 'My goodness, where do I start with this band that has put out LPs since 1988?' I get it. I do. I picture someone standing at our slot at a bin at a record store becoming overwhelmed at the prospect of picking the 'wrong' title. And then walking away and not picking up anything from us!" Fredrick laughs. "What can you do indeed?"

He started his career as a songwriter as a result of an American Football injury that left him bedridden in the home he grew up in in Santa Barbara, California. The year The Beatles immortal double-album came out at Christmastime he broke his leg so badly that he had to be home-schooled for an entire year. His parents, ex-teachers themselves, refused to let him watch telly for more than an hour a day. He propped a Silvertone acoustic on top of the massive cast that screamed all the way up to his thigh from his toes, and began to write little melodies and lyrics that, doubtless, did not in the least mask his love for the Fabs, The White Album in especial.

And he read and read and read--histories of the American Revolution and Civil War, mostly, and as many Dickens novels as his mum and dad could bring him. "That year," Fredrick observes, "surely made me who I am today. Proof that intensely unfortunate-seeming events can prove most fortunate. As a sport-mad kid, it made me absolutely mental that I was exiled from the activities I loved most and the school teams I played on. What a blessing undisguised that injury was! Not that I'd like to experience anything like it ever again, mind you."

Fredrick can even recall a few of the melodies he wrote as boy ("Utterly trite, of course, completely jejune"); and in a way, The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours showcases a kind of get-back-to-where-you-once-belonged sensibility. "I didn't intend, this time, to make an album per se. I write both songs and fiction in order to find out what happens, to find out what I might want to say," he notes. "Rob often asks me what a particular song is about; and I often reply that I either don't know, or would prefer that others say. Same thing goes for when people ask me where they should start with our discography. I never know what to say. Our LP from 2011, Led Zeppelin Five (remastered in 2021 for its tenth anniversary), has been our best seller, I think--but that may be because some stoned Zepheads thought their gods had perhaps put out a record they'd missed!"

Despite being deadly serious about music-making, TBW's been known to either whimsically or perversely title their albums. Examples: Jiggery-Pokery (an allusion to John Lennon assessing George Martin's productions), After the Gold Room (a pun on the Neil Young classic plus a local eastside L.A. watering hole), Sugarplum Fairy, Sugarplum Fairy (echoing Lennon's famous count-off to A Day in the Life), Fromthing Somethat (a garbled spoonerism/lyric while doing a vocal), Brilliant Failures (the 2020 release that, along with Fromthing Somethat, was named Album of the Year by venerable indie rock magazine The Big Takeover), and the aforementioned LZ5.

For the new LP, the band recruited longtime friends and allies Ben Eshbach (the Emmy-Award-winning frontman of The Sugarplastic) and Lindsay Murray (Gretchens Wheel) to compose and arrange strings and sing heaps of lovely backing vocals, respectively.

And the result? A collection of songs that Fredrick, in his quite-but-not-quite self-deprecatory way, might call another set of brilliant failures. "Every song, every LP we do, is a failure of sorts--no matter how powerful or beautiful or pleasing-to-us it turns out," John concludes. "I have often said that my aim is to write songs as good as anything on The Beatles... and I will never achieve my goal. And thus I'll have to keep at it, keep trying. And chin-chin to that!"

And now your attention's been brought to a band (or you've heard of them or heard a track or two down the years) that has been pegged by The L.A. Weekly as "a national treasure" as well as "the most criminally-neglected indie pop group imaginable."

So here's to the prospect of that ostensible neglect becoming as much of a thing of the past as John Andrew Fredrick's year-long stint in bed.

Delphine Dora is a prolific composer, improviser and musician who has released on a plethora of labels including Recital, Morc, Sloow Tapes, Feeding Tube, Okraïna and more, and ‘Le Grand Passage’ is her Modern Love debut, a stunning set of songs for piano and voice, recorded in one take without overdubs or edits.

In an act of pure expression, Delphine Dora recorded the 8 songs of ‘The Great Passage’ in a single take, succumbing to a whirlwind of inspiration that transported her beyond the material world. Baroque paradigms bleed into fragile, introspective mantras, expressed through a made up language of existential yearning and channeled through piano and voice. It’s music that caresses the sublime, made without any premeditation.

Delphine was nearing the end of a three-day prepared piano residency when an technician stepped in to tune her grand piano for her final performance. He removed the objects from the strings and fixed the pitch, leaving Dora with a freshly tuned instrument. Mesmerised by its new sound, she proceeded to switch on her recorder and pour out her soul, channeling, in her own words, "something greater than myself".

The result is some of the most unusual but elevated material the prolific composer, improviser and multi-instrumentalist has ever recorded, rooted in a deep understanding of European musical history but willing to push at its boundaries, questioning the earthly logic of life and death, asceticism and impiety. Glistening imperfections lash 'The Great Passage' to the physical world, but Dora - seemingly possessed as she quivers in a fictional dialect - lets her fantasies intensify her spirit, lifting the music towards the heavens. It's not sacred music, per se, but it is unashamedly mystical.

On the luxurious, languid opening, Dora dissolves eerily familiar romantic piano motifs into an attentive ceremony, singing with charged emotion. Her words aren't really decipherable, but their resonance vibrates beyond language; it's striking to hear how confident she is in vulnerability. She lets the piano wrap into her voice, connecting us directly to a unique mode of emotional expression by urging us - the listener - to project our own meaning onto her abstracted words.

Dora refers to the act of improvisation itself as a way to indicate "the fragility of being”, and as her words blur in and out of focus, dipping from a hoarse croak to a choking wail, she places herself at the very edge of musical formality, questioning strictures put in place to suffocate self-expression. Her music has often been labeled "outsider", but here she sounds intimate and interconnected, more self-consciously candid than anything traditional might have allowed. She conjures affecting, plainspoken poetry, like a bedside diary written in a hypnagogic, delirious state: a stream-of-unconsciousness, channelling the beyond.

The album title connects to a book dedicated to French philosopher and activist Simone Weil, who famously pored over global religions to ascertain spiritual truths. To Weil, meditation was a passage to access mystical experience, or a bridge between humanity and divinity. In Dora's hands, this idea is a corridor between herself and the listener, a liminal place where she's able to address feelings without making anything explicit. The title, of course, also refers to life, its impermanence, finitude, and fragility, presenting the complex, multi-dimensionality of being through one of the most undiluted, unbridled set of songs imaginable.

Recorded at British Grove and Abbey Road studios, Daphne Guinness’s fourth
album, Sleep, is unlike anything Guinness has produced before. Contemplative, self-
reflective, and personal, it represents her most beguiling body of work to-date; a
sleek sophisticated experience enhanced by an array of esoteric creative touches,
complementing its dancefloor rush.

Mixed by Ricky Damian, known for his work with Lady Gaga, Adele, Georgia Smith,
Dua Lipa, her creative connections include long standing collaborator Malcolm
Doherty and Tony Visconti (who scored the album’s strings).

The album’s scale is further amplified by collaborators, including Guy Pratt (Madonna, Michael Jackson) and Rob Shirakbari (Burt Bacharach, Dionne Warwick), plus a 34-piece string section.

The scope of her associations extends far beyond the core album. Daphne collaborated with Nick Knight of SHOWStudio for the video to early single ‘Hip Neck Spine’, and with the iconic filmmaker and photographer, David LaChapelle for the current single ‘Volcano’.

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

Mancunians Aerial Salad describe their cross-genre sound as “Madchester Punk,” a nod to their heroes in Happy Mondays, XTC, and Carter USM, spiced with the current furore spearheaded by burgeoning Brit-wave bands like Yard Act, Shame, and High Vis. Their second album ‘R.O.I’ leans on these influences, driven forward by pure rock’n’roll swagger while conjuring a late stage, capitalist hell scape through brutalist lyrical narratives. To put it mildly, Aerial Salad is the band you want to see play the breakdown of establishment’s after party, and you already know you’re gonna love it! This is an album that moves seamlessly from pulsing post-punk beats to unstoppable stadium rock anthems. ‘The Same 24 Hours (As Beyoncé)’ is Britpop rallying against the fake facade of influencer culture, ‘All Yer Dreamin’ is Mark E Smith at the Hacienda, ‘Chances’ is Oasis taking on Talking Heads. Aerial Salad find space to explore new genres without losing the sense that this is a band born out of the hard touring, DIY punk scene, a community that continues to be close to their heart. The northern three piece want us to know they’re as authentic as it gets. Injecting that raw chaos and violent charm from the stage straight into their recordings. Their goal is to make themselves known to everyone and anyone, from rave heads to indie kids, poets to rockers. ‘R.O.I’ is fantastical while acutely bedded in modern post-Brexit, Un-united Kingdom canon. We’re all trying to find our places in this new world, let Aerial Salad be the soundtrack.

'starsdust' is an ambient album composed from the fragments of Runnner's 2023 album 'like dying stars, we're reaching out.' singles 'ten' and 'eleven' are glitchy, colorful moments of reflection stretched across a few meditative minutes. Runnner's noah weinman says on the creation of this release: "I made one rule for myself while making this record and it was that I wasn't allowed to record any new audio. Every sound on this album is a repurposed stem from Like Dying Stars, We're Reaching Out. I was allowed to pitch, flip, stretch, and chop anything I wanted, but everything had to begin from something already recorded for the last album. It started out as something fun to do in transit (and to alleviate my flight anxiety). I was doing a lot of solo touring at the time and my affinity for cheap Southwest Airlines flights meant a lot of layovers. I think I made the first three or four sketches either in the air or at the airport. I made the rest of the album during the spring of 2023 when I was mostly stuck in bed recovering from tearing my achilles tendon and the subsequent surgery. A project that seemed to perfectly fit my constraints. The initial process of making these songs was an attempt to remove myself from the process a bit. I'd (sort of) randomly choose stems from songs, like the bass from one track, the drums from another, and maybe find a banjo or piano loop from a third, and then throw them together. It usually made something chaotic at first, but the joy of the album was sifting through that initial cacophony and finding the kernel of the song to keep pursuing. Many attempts were abandoned, but the twelve featured here I consider to be my most fruitful endeavors. It was very exciting, scary, and rewarding to step outside of my wheelhouse on this record and I hope you ennnjoy it."

Every morning when Dent May wakes up, the first thing he says is, “What’s for breakfast?” For the Los Angeles-based songwriter and pop auteur, this question is part inside joke with his girlfriend, part sitcom-style catchphrase, and part mantra about getting up every day and persevering in the face of good or bad is happening around you in your life. It’s also the title of his sixth album, which is out on March 29, 2024 via Carpark Records. What’s For Breakfast? is May’s most immediate, nostalgic, and rollicking LP yet, one that’s concerned with breaking daily routines and rediscovering the joys of songwriting.

Over the past 17 years, May has been a consistently adventurous and prolific bedroom pop pioneer and connoisseur of impeccably crafted melodies. Though his songs are always well-written and comfortable, with What’s For Breakfast?, May has freed himself up to more playfully experiment with new and vintage musical inspirations. “I’ve occupied a lot of different lanes over the years,” says May. “I’ve always been drawn to making kaleidoscopic pop inspired by old soul, disco, country, whatever. This time around, I was tapping into music from my childhood, like The Strokes, Weezer and Elephant 6 Collective bands.” By revisiting the music of his youth—energetic and infectious guitar rock—he found a vibrant palate to explore for this new LP.

Lead single “One Call, That’s All” kickstarts with frenetic guitar-driven intensity. While the track slyly takes its name from the slogan of an ambulance-chasing Mississippi lawyer, May sings of unrequited love and phone-based ennui. “It’s a fast tempo pop-rock song that isn’t like anything I’ve done before,” says May. Elsewhere, opener “You Already Know” showcases May’s goofball lyrical charm with lines about playing chess online and looking like a Dawson’s Creek character. Beyond the jokes in the song, there is a bittersweet recognition of time passing and a call to action when May sings, “Now you already know what time it is / It’s time to live your life / Cuz it’s flying by / No matter the day, week, month or year / It’s time to do a lot / Ready or not.”

What’s For Breakfast? marks another first for Dent in being his most collaborative LP yet. Alongside guest appearances from Jimmy Whispers and co-writes with Paul Cherry, are two standout singles with Jordana and Pearl & The Oysters respectively. Jordana assists on the wistful “Coasting on Fumes,” which captures the feeling of being stuck in a rut while the yearning “Time Flies When You’re Having Fun” guests Pearl and the Oysters. “My first album came out almost 15 years ago, so bringing in others to help out is crucial to keep things interesting,” says May. “I’m constantly falling back in love with music through the eyes of others. This album is about remembering why I like music.”

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

As she's gotten older, Ella Smoker has found that her subconscious has been trying to tell her "some pretty wacky stuff". Thoughts will come to the 21-year-old singer-songwriter in dreams, or as she writes lyrics in studio sessions, words floating onto the page before she's really had a moment to realise what they are. "As soon as we start making the music, my brain sort of turns off," she explains. "I'll be sitting there, writing all this stuff that feels like a load of nonsense, and a month later, I'll look back and be like `oh'. It all comes from a place I didn't even realise was there." In learning how to open up to herself, gglum ended up finding a kindred spirit in producer Karma Kid (Maisie Peters, Shygirl, Connie Constance), pushing past her natural bedroom-pop introversion to find joy in the process of collaboration. Whether it's the ragged radio-rock of `SPLAT!' ("basically about realising that somebody you held up very highly is actually just a massive shambles of a person") or the riotous, industrial energy of `Easy Fun', Smoker is able to reshape her vocal around the mood, creating a record which expertly balances light and shade. "I've never really done anything in like that vocal style before," she says of `Easy Fun's near-spoken delivery. "I love that song because it's not something I would have come up with on my own, but Karma Kid was great at pushing me out of my comfort zone. I just thought like, look: I can be a little silly with this." The release of `The Garden Dream' will offer gglum plenty more opportunity to get both silly and serious, to be bold in her exploration of new ideas and sounds But it will also offer the opportunity to further accept herself as the dreamlike artist she always wanted to be; confidently embellishing acoustic worlds that her listeners can burrow safely within. "I feel like I naturally gravitate towards wanting to make musical spaces that you can feel like you're living in, rather than trying to make songs", she says. "That's something I really wanted to solidify with this album: I basically want to make music that feels like when you're looking out the window and it's the end of the film and you're imagining what comes next. That's the sound of what I want to be doing."

Introducing, the experimental violinist and performer Vanessa Bedoret.

The London-based French musician today announces that she’ll be joining, Scenic Route, a label renowned for selecting and nourishing rising stars for the release of her debut album, Eyes, due out on 8th of March 2024. Launching with a taste of what’s to come, today she also shares single “1/2”, a textural track that tells of the dichotomy between those who are selfless and those who are self-centred, and their need to merge as one. This duality is reflected in the industrial metallic echoes under Vanessa’s soaring vocals and the piercing strings of her chosen instrument, the violin.

Treating songwriting as an instinctive process, Bedoret transforms her deeply personal experiences into pure emotion. Not following any set narrative, Eyes takes the listener on a journey via their own experiences, prompting introspection through Bedoret’s hypnotic melodies.

Through the album, she awakens the audience's imagination, to open up their emotional response. On “Ballad”, a vague, loving lyrical letter to someone close, Bedoret’s heartbreakingly soft lament is barely audible over the dramatic atonal strings. She flips her narrative again in the titular track, “Eyes”, so the listener empathises through her isolated violin, and takes on her anguish, not needing to understand the full story.

Bedoret began her classical training at age 6 and on completion at 18 she embraced the thrill of playing guitar in punk bands, and like many at the turn of adulthood, was quickly captured by the allure of the dancefloor. Her far-reaching taste doesn’t stop there, she also counts black metal to opera and from eurodance to IDM as inspiration. Her deep understanding of musical form elevates her experimentation to a truly unique sonic experience, one that never strays too far from her original love of classical music.

With only a string of releases under her belt via independent labels like Laura Lies In and Archaic Vaults, her refined skillset has meant she’s been in high demand for both solo shows and collaborations. These accolades include playing violin with New York avant garde collective Standing On The Corner at The Serpentine, as well as a part of Kahil El’Zabar conducts MOKI at the ICA, and Linder: Another Music in a Different Arcadia at the Design Museum alongside artist Linder Sterling, Naima Cherry, Maxwell Sterling, Kenichi Iwasa & Ella Frears.

For her solo performances, she’s shared stages with Standing on the Corner, Ekaterina Bazhenova-Yamasaki, Philomème Pirecki, John T. Gast and Nexcyia to name a few. She’s also performed as a duo alongside musician Severin Black in support of their collaborative EP release, First Passage / Excommunicated.

Through the lens of a life lived to it’s fullest and one that does not shy from experiencing the rawest of emotions, it’s clear that Bedoret has a nack for translating personal observations into cinematic crescendoes. The field recordings throughout only heighten this feeling adding both a grounding and other worldy sensibility. Lyrically, she allows you to peek into her private world and for a fleeting moment letting you lock eyes with hers, asking what do you see?

This debut is a glowing experimental work that purrs with a distinctive narrative. Vanessa Bedoret is a promising new act, ready to take 2024 by storm.

F8 . Liam Melly - Energy
F9 . Armin Van Buuren - Space Case
F10 . The Obsessed - Free Yourself
F11 . Ie Shuuk & B Stylezz - Konje
F12 . Armin Van Buuren - Lose This Feeling (Maddix remix)
F13 . Armin Van Buuren - Lose This Feeling (Dimension remix)
F14 . Armin Van Buuren - AI Vs Humanity (A State Of Trance Year mix 2023 outro)

What the listener might encounter on this album goes all the way down to the sound of a neuron transmitting pain, beatitude or any one of the countless senses and impressions we feel on any one day of life. N E U R O is the debut album by CURA MACHINES, a new project by Daniel Lea whose tracks are at once scientific in their capturing of the morphing of body cells as well as the larger expanses of a poetic filmscape of the contemporary metropolis.

The name CURA MACHINES comes from a sign Lea saw on a trip to Ancona, Italy at an abandoned hospital: Prima E Dopo La Cura (Before and after the cure). The sound in between, of what was lost or found, transmuted in the heavily manipulated and pulsating synthesisers, is the restoration here. With a physically visceral mix by Ben Frost and soaring re-amped bass textures from Yair Elazar Glotman, the album is lush with trans-morphing apeggia that shudder, quack and soar into ashen sparks.

Back in the turn of the 20th century the poet Rilke posited that the suture patterns of fused skull plates could potentially be played by the then-new technology of the gramophone, with each of us having our own personal tonal source code or anthem etched onto our skulls. And with a track like 'Suture' we have such an embodied sound: the close-up exhumation of the neural brain casing, stitched and sewn together in fleeting pulses of whisper and alarm.
The individual is exposed and isolated, but not without the promise of succour.

Or one also has the soundtrack to the loneliness of a morose private eye – a pulp novel set in a future time of neurosis or washed out euphoric beauty. It is here in tracks such as 'Terminal Zone' or 'Inversion Layers', music that is blinking in celluloid frames. The plot could easily be a sci-fi, paranoid tale of brain emulation, transhumanist crimes against humanity itself. After all this is Lea's soundtrack to Los Angeles, the city of angels that has been captured in countless movies: the racing tracking shot of the 2nd Street Tunnel at night, the freeways spreading out in a glorious sprawl of lit up veins and arteries. The last track 'Zosa' marks out the boundary line that delineates between day and night, when the lunar strains wane, the tides subside and the city comes to life.

30th year anniversary edition of Distorted Pony's industrial noise-rock classic 'Punishment Room, remastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in 2023. Back on vinyl for the first time in 30 years, recorded in 1992 by Steve Albini and originally released on Bomp!, this album is an absolute essential for any noise-rock aficionado. The Los Angeles band turned heads with their aggressive mix of industrial, post-punk, feedback assault on metal sheets and trashcans. The focal point of Distorted Pony (which formed in 1986 and called it quits in ’93) was Dora Jahr’s seething bass and the mix of screeching guitars from David U and Robert Hammer. "Distorted Pony was already history by the time Instant Winner was released, but with proper live-fast/die-young spirit the album leaves one hell of an impressive corpse — it’s easily the most potent of the three records

2023 Repress

Frank Maston’s Tulips is a sample-ready film score to the best 70s movie never made. Originally a super-limited self-release on his Phonoscope label in late 2017, Tulips has already become incredibly sought-after. Be With were introduced to Maston by mutual friends Aquarium Drunkard and it didn’t take long before we decided this modern classic deserved a reissue.

Inspired by the deep-grooving soundtracks of Italian cinema - think Morricone, Umiliani and Alessandroni - Maston conceived the entire Tulips project as a continuation of these revered works. Frank designed the artwork and made two 16mm films to accompany the music: “It wasn’t just the LP… it was kind of a whole vibe I was trying to create. Not really trying to emulate the things that influenced me but more trying to make something that could sit alongside those records on a shelf. I’m still very proud of the project.”

There’s a distinct library music feel too, with wiry organ, spacey keyboards and loping 60s guitar hinting at KPM and DeWolfe. Like the best library music, Tulips creates a cinematic universe through sound alone, evoking moving images in the listener’s technicolour imagination. It turns out that was accidentally on purpose: “I was discovering a lot of library music for the first time… listening to a composer’s entire catalog or finding all this obscure stuff. I wasn’t entirely conscious of the influence until I started making this music and realized I was channeling the vibe. That’s when I began focusing more on weaving melodic themes throughout the record to make it function more like a soundtrack”.

Tulips was recorded between 2015 and 2017 in a small studio in a village called Zwaag in Holland, during downtime from Frank’s touring duties with Jacco Gardner’s band. “Tulips” comes from the title of the very first demo he made in Holland, it was the first thing that came to mind. Makes sense.

Recording in Europe with some very European influences in mind, Frank wanted to eschew any American influences. But we can still feel the studio wizardry of the likes of Brian Wilson and Harry Nilsson in there somewhere. A psychedelic bedroom-pop song-cycle, full of hypnotic hooks and dusty drums, Tulips manages to sound charmingly homemade yet wholly widescreen.

Dreamy opener “Swans” is an exquisite soul instrumental and recalls the soft-psych of Koushik, which Be With loves of course. Tropicalia influences abound in the cool and breezy “New Danger” and the KPM-references are loud and proud on the lush organ pop of “Old Habits”. Fast-paced “Chase Theme No. 1” manages to be both tense and laid back, decorated by acid-drenched spaghetti Western guitars. The glorious Gainsbourg-esque melancholia of “Infinite Bliss” is all gauzy flutes and happy-sad vocalizing and the title is almost perfect: it’s bliss, no question; *if only* it went on forever. Side A closes with “Evening”, a subtle bossa nova beat thing. Gorgeous.

Side B opens with the heat-shimmer guitars of “Rain Dance”, evoking an unreleased Byrds or Buffalo Springfield backing track. Yes, it’s that good. “Sure Thing” is music to accompany an elevator ride you never want to end, but in a good way! The ornate “Garçon Manqué” is as beautiful as the instrumentals on Pet Sounds (think “Let’s Go Away For A While”) and the wistful “Turning In” starts like a stroll in the park before Maston introduces a scorched-Earth guitar solo that would startle if it wasn’t so pitch-perfect. “Chase Theme No. 2” is a briefer, more keening counterpart to what we hear on side A. The head-nod bass-drums-keys funk of “Hues” rounds out this staggeringly assured set; still opening each phrase with a plaintive strum, but using vibrato and heavy reverb to accent the electric organ melody. Sublime.

All these top drawer musical references might sound like just more of the usual release notes hyperbole, but there’s a reason that this still-young LP already changes hands for big money. It really is that good. Of course that first pressing didn’t hang around for long and Frank’s regularly been asked about a re-press pretty much ever since.

Re-issuing Tulips on Be With made sense to Frank “because the record would fit in so well with the catalogue”. Having already delved into the archives of KPM and Themes, and beginning to do the same with Coloursound and Selected Sounds, the collaboration “just makes sense and seems inevitable”. We agree.

Frank wasn’t sure a record of instrumentals with obscure soundtrack references would be an easy sell when it was originally released, and was surprised when Tulips turned out to be exactly what some people wanted to hear. We reckon its timeless beauty ensures that it’ll *always* have an audience.

The record was originally cut to be played at 45rpm, a technical quirk that grants the home listener the opportunity to go deeper, for longer. Played at 33rpm, the more languid unfurling of the tracks proves just as wonderful a trip. As a psilocybin-soaked case study from Aquarium Drunkard back in January of 2019 describes, some of the songs sound as if they were intended to be heard that way. The slower speed allowing the listener to step inside and perhaps even “crack the code” of the music’s meaning.

Mastered for this vinyl reissue by Simon Francis and featuring alternative burnt orange artwork from Maston himself, this Be With pressing is limited to just 500 copies. Hypnagogic it may be, but please don’t sleep.

Three years on from the desolate beauty of their debut, Quindi Records is proud to present the second album from Dead Bandit. The ghosts of their past endeavours still haunt their guitars, but on Memory Thirteen the duo's delicately dishevelled Southern gothic feels tonally distinct from their prior outing.
Dead Bandit is Ellis Swan and James Schimpl - the former a noted solo singer-songwriter from Chicago with a penchant for eerie, witching hour murder ballads and the latter an accomplished Canadian multi-instrumentalist with a bias towards heartworn, roaming soundscapes. Their instrumental collaboration has an open, lyrical quality which says as much as any spoken line, and on this album they've especially embraced the power of contrast as we're guided between scenes, sometimes within the confines of one track.
'Peel Me An Orange' is especially instructive in this regard, beginning as a blown-out paean to sonic degradation and the acute sense of hopelessness it projects, only to yield to a lilting tape loop of twanging guitar before entirely widening out in an emphatic burst of post-rock optimism.
Post-rock isn't noted for its banal cheeriness as a genre, and Dead Bandit aren't about to lay down feel-good drive-time anthems, but the sense of pulling at extremes of energy and introspection show Swan and Schimpl to be testing the emotional limits of their weatherbeaten sound. The cautiously sentimental mood of 'Blowing Kisses' hints at the hard-won light which can be encountered while pointedly driving into darkness.
Sometimes noise is a subtle device - a looming bed of unease under the forthright pluck of Swan's distinct guitar tone or the cracking round the edges of a beaten up drum machine. On 'Memory Thirteen' the distortion on the bass becomes a central figure in its haggard waltz, while 'Staircase' and 'Perfume' leave the signal wet until the delay feedback becomes the body of the riff. Either way, the sound is never left untouched as Swan and Schimpl grow more comfortable in their exchange, blurring their respective sonic languages as they expand their shared vocabulary to create an album of depth, difference and devoted distortion.

Bristolian producer Claude Cooper returns with hot new single ‘Stay A While’, inspired by the vinyl discoveries made from months of digging and cataloguing the bulging inventory of Bedminster’s Friendly Records record shop.

‘Stay A While’ introduces some delightful twists to Cooper’s psychedelic-funk sound. Blurring the lines between sampling and performance, lush string flourishes are sliced with 6Ts girl-group vocals and rollicking piano chords resulting in a dreamy, end of night, lights up anthem in-the-making. The track is backed with the insistent ‘Dance Tonight’, a ragged bass-boogie surf-rocker that doesn’t take no for an answer.

Cooper’s irrepressible debut album ‘Myriad Sounds' (Jan ‘22) caught the attention of the UK's press and radio alike. Mojo's four star review described it as “Bristol’s beat scene backdrops late night jams”, Uncut enjoyed the "rugged psych-funk romp" and Louder than War declared "it’s vital and vibrant and exactly what we need to kick start the year”. BBC radio DJs including Cerys Matthews, Gideon Coe, Huw Stephens, Jamie Cullum, Lauren Laverne, Stuart Maconie, Tom Ravenscroft rinsed the singles, with Huey Morgan inviting Cooper to contribute a Block Party Mix for his show.

Bonus round 'More Myriad Sounds' (Apr ‘23) added Brooklyn vocalist Brain Fog to the melange with a bounty of pyretic vocal performances. DJ Mag called it “A fierce, kaleidoscopic trip” while Bandcamp Daily said “This album of cross-genre influences is as likely to get it included in any number of best-of columns, with the theme of serious fun as their common element”.

Behind the release is Friendly Records, the best little record shop in Bristol and now a burgeoning record label. Opened by Tom Friend on North Street in 2016, it’s gone on to become a hub of the local musical community. As well as Claude Cooper, the label has reissued two of Alison Cotton’s albums, 'The Twenty-Three Views' by outernational ambient jazz project Floating World Pictures, and Christian Madden & The Enemy Chorus’s organ heavy ‘The Extra Weight’.

Claude Cooper will return with a new album on Friendly Recordings this year.

ALWAYS + FOREVER is the first compilation to be released on Do You Have Peace? collecting unreleased tracks from both new and existing artists on the label. Featuring Time Cow, YL Hooi, Teresa Winter, Jonnine, Guest, Static Cleaner Lost Reward, Hermeneia, Zaumne, Birthmark, Silzedrek, Laughter of Saints, Vessel & Rakhi Singh. Originally imagined as a project to link together the dream pop related leanings of a disparate group of artists, as the project grew it became more amorphous but still kept a strange and half awake quality throughout. The pop leanings are still there, although often buried under slabs of reverb, but there are also less heavy lidded bedroom confessionals, as well as DIY chamber pieces and teary eyed instrumental passages. Most of the vocal-led tracks are in the first half of the album, leaving the second section to drift fully into hypnagogic sedative territory. Where vocals do come in they are more like half remembered fragments of dream speech than any kind of traditional narrative. The voices eventually leave us completely, drifting through 3 chamber pieces, reclaiming the classical arrangements of strings / piano / etc from the lofty heights of concert halls and scores to something more intimate and familiar, a box room in a flat, or a bedroom, a memory of lying awake staring at the ceiling and trying to go to sleep again.

A tape with the rather factual title “Rosa Beton – Demo 83” gained currency in 1983, albeit among an inner circle, or as it says in a lexical note on the band: Rosa Beton “achieved beyond-regional fame in and around Berlin”. Unlike some other bands that were merely rumoured to exist, this name was widely recognized in the East Berlin punk scene and the demo tape was received with some delight. It had been made in the suburb of Hönow, or more precisely in music enthusiast Thomas Wagner’s childhood bedroom. The band was less a classic combo than a short-lived pro- ject run, for a brief underground season, by 16-yearold Wagner and Ronald Mausolf, who was known as “Mausi” and had just come of age. An old clunker of a four-track machine served as an impor- tant nutritional supplement for the duo, allowing bass and vocals to be overdubbed separately. For a project without a professional background, especially for an illegal punk band in the East, this conventional procedure was clearly exceptional. Punk bands would usually record vocals and instruments simultaneously and on a cassette recorder. Recording gear was not readily available in the GDR, and it was disproportionately or prohibitively expensive. The adversities that had to be overcome in starting up a punk band were certainly challenging for teenagers. Rooms for rehearsals were few and far between despite wide- spread vacancies, and public space was taboo thanks to the state. Concerts, whether in flats and studios or under the protection of the Protestant church, remained rare events and, moreover, risky; starting with the party-loyal neighbour alerting the People’s Police as if there were a war on, to the ever-present “digging activity” of the Stasi. The only planned appearance by Rosa Beton never materi- alised. Whether it was the goddesses of fate who averted a show or the Stasi who prevented it can no longer be reconstructed. In any case, Rosa Beton never played live and thus joined a long list of GDR punk bands that, in the early 1980s, did not make it out of illegality into a public sphere, not even into a conspiratorial one. ausi compensated for the band’s lack of live performances by at least distributing a few copies of the demo tape. Among others, at the Kult, the Kulturpark Plänterwald, which provided an initiation field for the Berlin punk scene and a hotspot with a pull beyond it. The punks adapted the Kulturpark to their understanding of an amusement park.
They would thrash about to Schlager music and pogo to third-rate Ostrock bands, make fun of overwhelmed provincials, hang out and exchange half-baked ideas as superior knowledge. In between, the punks liked to ride the chain carousel, there was a certain liking for chains. The Kulturpark management made quite a fuss about the riot the punks put on. Initially they were banned from the chain carousel, then, when the punks switched to bumper cars, they were banned from the bumper cars, then from the roller coaster, and finally from the ghost

#40 ON ROLLING STONE'S 500 GREATEST ALBUMS OF ALL TIME: ANTICIPATES LATE 1960S TURBULENCE VIA PROPHETIC SONGS AND DARK THEMES
1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe



Any discussion about the finest psychedelic rock record ever recorded is incomplete if it doesn't grant consideration to Love's Forever Changes. Ranked by Rolling Stone as the 40th greatest album ever made, and named by Mojo the second-greatest psychedelic set in history, the effort is an internationally recognized seminal work of art. Transcending language and convention, its magnitude and magnificence need to be heard again and again. For here is an effort whose mind-boggling acoustic complexities and kaleidoscopic nuances are tailored for high-fidelity playback.

Nearly unlimited headroom, vast instrumental separation, transparent clarity, artifact-free atmospherics, and faithful balances appear out of jet-black backgrounds. Turn it up as loud as you want; the sole limitation will be your system's potential.

Commercially ignored upon release in November 1967, Forever Changes confronts the alienation, paranoia, violence, and strife that would soon plague the countercultural movement and send the Summer of Love into a tailspin. Apart from its lyrical themes and prescient malaise, the record's enduring nature equally owes to intertwined arrangements sewn together with Latin guitar-picked lines, finessed folk harmonies, mariachi-inspired horn charts, and subdued strings.

The seemingly opposing combination – ominous, dark reflections situated amidst lush, light melodic beds – affords Forever Changes a distinguished tension of claustrophobia and openness, dourness and ecstasy, ugliness and elegance enjoyed by no other record in the rock canon. Much of the contrast owes to leader Arthur Lee's mental state and pertinent observations. Lee, whose suppressed romanticism often surfaces even amidst the blackest shadows and most cynical moments, believed he would soon die, and hence channeled everything from lasting hopes to acid-addled decay to the chilling testimony of a Vietnam veteran in his narratives.

Alternatively sad and beautiful, the album-opening and flamenco-inspired "Alone Again Or" establishes the mood for what follows. Vocals overlap and soar; tempos rise and fall; surrealism trades places with reality.Forever Changes thrives both because of and in spite of a surfeit of labyrinthine chords and difficult notes that never repeat. Its ambitious construction almost forced the already fractured band to cede responsibilities to session musicians, which appear on two tracks. The quintet's resolve to not only complete the album, but to do so with such poignancy and curiosity, further enhances Forever Changes' standing.

No wonder that, in the twilight of his troubled career, Lee performed the record in its entirely during concerts met with overwhelming critical acclaim. It was, and will always be, a personal manifesto of timeless relevance and appeal.

About Tonder:
Match made! Between poet Alex Deforce and Azertyklavierwerke more specifically. Over a runaway beat, they seem intent on taming the search for love, or anything that smells like it from far or near. "Swiped right, match made" dictates Deforce as rhythmically and unflappably as if he were a Chat GPT controlled computer: more mechanical and cold love has never sounded. What follows would not have been out of place on the soundtrack of Fritz Lang's Metropolis: an industrial drum computer gasping for breath in an attempt to ward off an epileptic fit.
Contemporary yet headstrong, cryptic yet unapologetic: Tonder is an intriguing song full of contradictions that leaves you orphaned but also addicted.

About Soort Van Nerd:
A hearty dash of tristesse rubbing up against the best work of such masters of Weltschmerz like Sufjan Stevens or Spinvis: "Soort Van Nerd" translates as "Kind of nerd" and is a kind of genius underground pop song.
Melancholy and sincere emotion, it is still allowed. Melancholy but above all thoughtful: Azertyklavierwerke handles words and sound extremely sparingly but cuts deeper into his or anyone else's skin as a result. On a nostalgic but austere bed of a drum machine, a naive piano line he pokes Eternal-sunshine-of-the-spotless-mind-wise where it hurts: "I wish you could melt, like an ice cube in the sun."

Orphax & PONI (person of no importance) is a collaboration between the two Dutch brothers, Sietse (Orphax) and Tjeerd (PONI) van Erve. Since their early years they share a broad interest in music, fed mostly from their fathers’ record collection, ranging from early blues to Pink Floyd or Beethoven. But also listening to Belgian radio channel Studio Brussels (which during the late 80s and early 90s was a common listening close to the borders between The Netherlands and Belgium), and the late night Dutch radio inspired them in exploring the rough edges of underground music.

An exploration that gave them a common interest in indie and noise rock, but soon enough both followed their own path in music. Tjeerd moving more into underground guitar music, whilst Sietse developed a wider interest in (experimental) electronic and contemporary music. Both as listeners, but also exploring their own interests as musicians.

Now many years later these musical paths cross again in this album Inheritance (with a slight imagination, a translation of their last name van Erve). An album where Tjeerd brings in his dark and noisy lo-fi guitar songs and Sietse brings in his drones and electro-acoustic composition styles.

The album opens with its longest track, “As Received”. This combination results in a slow developing drone, with the intensity and tension of a well build-up post-rock track, that slowly unfolds Tjeerd his guitar layers and vocals. The title of the song refers to one of the PONI projects, where Tjeerd would send rough recordings to befriended musicians who than would rework those recordings without any restrictions which then would be released side by side with the original rough recordings. A project which actually sparked the idea of this collaboration (and that can still be listened to on PONI’s bandcamp-page).

On the flip side of the record, three shorter works give more room for regular song structures. In “Sunburns” this results in slowcore with subdued vocals, melancholic guitars and nasty synth and organ drones. When Tjeerd wrote the basis for the song, he actually had been listening to a lot of Codeine and Bedhead. One does not need much fantasy to recognize the influences of these bands.

“The Tears Are Necessary” is build up around various broken up piano tracks accompanied by moody drones to develop a fragile song.

The album closes with “Lockdown”, opening with silence as a moment of contemplation after the previous work but then quickly develops in a playful song where improvised play on piano, guitar and modular synthesizer create a lo-fi gem that clearly shows that both brothers still haven’t lost their love for Sentridoh or Guided By Voices.
All together resulting in an album that is an ode to the love of music, experiment, and creativity and a celebration of brotherhood.

Back in the 1990s video games were still largely seen as nerdy: fun, sure, but basically a guilty pleasure that you’d soon grow out of. The release in 1995 of wipE'out'', a lightning-fast, razor-sharp, futuristic racing game that helped to launch the PlayStation in Europe and North America, changed all that. This was a game that looked and sounded both adult and cool, the kind of game you would put on display in your living room, rather than hide away under your bed. Key to this was the fact that wipE'out'' borrowed unashamedly from the clubbing experience and electronic music, in a way that put it at the heart of progressive mid 90s culture. It soon became a phenomenon.

wipE'out'' looked sensational, with Sheffield agency The Designers Republic - known for their work with Warp - creating the visuals, packaging and manual for the game, drawing heavily on the bright colours and excitable geometric shapes of the rave and club flyers of the early 90s.

wipE'out'' also sounded like a new rave dream. The European version of the game included music from The Chemical Brothers, Leftfield and Orbital, the kind of fashionable game syncs that were almost unheard of at the time. Equally striking was the game’s original music, which came from Welsh musician Tim Wright, aka CoLD SToRAGE, by this point already a veteran in the video games world, having worked on the music for Amiga titles such as Lemmings and Shadow of the Beast 2. His music for wipE'out'' was, if anything, even more extreme than the big-name syncs, mixing the accelerated beats of drum & bass with the pure synth rush of trance to make music that sounded as breathlessly exciting as playing the game felt.

These tracks were burned into the brains of millions of gamers; the soundtrack to a generation of late-night anti-gravity racing, as the sun gingerly rose beyond the curtains. But they haven’t, perhaps, quite got the respect they deserve, something that this release will address. In 2023, video game music is finally getting its dues; here, remastered and repackaged –and also remixed by cutting edge producers such as Kode9, μ-Ziq, Brainwaltzera, Simo Cell, Wordcolour, James Shinra, Surgeons Girl and Dattassette– are some of the most important, thrilling, innovative and most fun songs ever committed to game release.

“A piece of music never truly comes to An end. Revisiting a theme illustrates this idea that life goes on.” These are the words of Wayne Shorter, uttered in 2018 upon the release of Emanon, his final opus. On this record, the octogenarian uses dusky hues to shade in the passions of his youth - drawing and science-fiction, as well as the causes he has defended all his life - the fight against ecological upheaval and structural racism. This sentiment did not fail to resonate with Julien Lourau, who has reached a stage in life where he has begun to look back over certain pages written by the man he has always considered one of the masters of his trade. Five years later, this Parisian native has also chosen to revisit his glory days, offering reworked versions of specific tracks composed by his titular elder throughout the 80s. “When I play this music, I find myself back in my teenage bedroom. These are my standards, and they remind me of autumn in Rambouillet.” At that time, after practising his scales, Julien would also play Dungeons & dragons, and immerse himself in SF as well as heroic fantasy - epic influences which are not without a certain connection to the dreamworlds Shorter conjured up, as another fan of landscapes beyond the grasp of reality.

This album features four themes taken from Atlantis, which came out in 1985, and two from Joy Ryder, released three years later. To these, he has added a composition penned at around the same time for Sportin’ Life, the penultimate LP by Weather Report. This is rounded off by a tune taken

from Native Dancer, the record which, ten years earlier, in 1975, brought together this saxophonist who learnt his trade alongside Art Blakey, before joining Miles’ second quintet, and Brazilian Milton Nascimento.

“Between Native Dancer and Atlantis, Shorter did not release anything under his own name, but he took the time and care to really perfect his writing. Upon his return, he injected a very Brazilian form of subtlety into his compositions, especially rhythmically. And from a harmonic point of view, these themes are extremely sophisticated, and reveal truly singular colours. In fact, he decided to display the score as if it constituted the liner notes of Atlantis.”

Julien Lourau is a fan of every Wayne Shorter era, from his Blue Note days, where Mr Gone defined the bases of a truly unique repertoire, all the way to his final quartet - a reference like no other. He decided to focus on this “highly electric” period, which is not necessarily Shorter’s best known, nor his most widely appreciated - despite being a unanimous reference, Shorter has nonetheless never had a direct descendent. In Lourau’s line of sight there lies a desire to focus on typically South American tonic accents which characterise this repertoire, twinned with the ambition to switch up their actual sound “by attempting to open up onto a production highly influenced by eighties fusion". However, he admits that modifying the structures of these most unique of worlds constituted a fresh challenge. “There’s this labyrinthine harmonic system where you’ve no idea how it holds together, but where it’s actually impossible to touch the slightest element without the whole edifice wavering. It is in fact a very difficult thing to achieve!”

In order to successfully transcribe all this creativity free of obstacles, Julien Lourau once again called upon the help of Mathieu Debordes. From January 2023 onwards, Mathieu endeavoured to break down all the musical elements, on paper, before creating any actual music. The record was therefore constructed on the faith of these scores, without necessarily transiting through a creative residency - just two live gigs, to make sure the setup worked. Besides Mathieu Debordes and his synthesisers, Julien Lourau has assembled an ad hoc team by his side. On the bass, according to the track, we can hear erstwhile companion Sylvain Daniel or a new acolyte on the fretless bass, Joan Eche Puig.

Stéphane Edouard, on percussion, even dives headfirst into an unlikely proto-rap of sorts, on Pearl On The Half Shell (where, on the original version, Bobby McFerrin adjusted his interventions in a rather madcap style). Aesthete and drummer Jim Hart as well as pianist Leo Jassef also figure on this release - both were present on previous project devoted to label

CTI. “At sixteen, I wanted to sound like Michael Brecker rather than Ben Webster - that was equated with modernity in those days”, adds Julien with a smile, as for him, all this rings out a little like a logical next step, a joyful immersion into the fountain of youth. And if, for this record, he plays the soprano more than ever, the saxophone Shorter set in his sights on, he never tries to replicate an unattainable ideal note by note. What would be the point?

“Wayne Shorter is not just a saxophonist’s saxophonist. In fact, I don’t know a single person who has risen to challenge of his solos. I have not done it myself either, but on the other hand, I have retained a lot of his phraseology. His way of approaching the instrument reveals a more evanescent language, a work on colour and shape. Keeping this in mind has allowed me to gravitate towards certain elements, that in hindsight, I find echoes of in my work, even in Groove Gang.” Shorter etches out these phrases, creating a groove within which Lourau had traced subtle punctuation, managing, from a highly written base, to create fresh apertures, promises of a great escape. Emblematic of this standpoint, his regal version of Ponte de Areia, originally a wonderful dialogue between Milton Nascimento and Wayne Shorter. Here, the Frenchman takes liberties with the original melodies, without ever growing distant from the original spirit, extending one section with delicacy, offering a rubato development and then a groove “like a little suite”. Julien Lourau also renews with an accomplice from last century, Magic Malik, who lends his high-pitched vocals to the track. Though they had not recorded together for more than twenty years, the two of them got on as if they had only ceased collaborating yesterday, everything flowed naturally. The track was wrapped up in just one take, much like other themes, such as opener Who Goes There where the flautist deploys smooth, enchanted and smoky wisps.

Fundamentally, reflecting of the sleeve which features a child playing with a ball, image that could symbolise the sun just as much as the moon, Julien Lourau manages to translate the ambiguous candour which characterizes Shorter’s work - solar and crepuscular at the same time, that of a visionary and poet definitively situated outside of all chronology, but with whom Julien shares surprising and ‘timely’ coincidences. Shorter was born August 25, 1933, the same day as Julien’s father, “if we take time zones into account”, and who died on Lourau’s birthday, March 2, 2023. Should we take this as a random fact? Or could we not see here the sign of a destiny connecting the agnostic Frenchman to the man who, as a fervent Buddhist, believed in the transmission of his spiritual flow ?

Off World presents the final album in its trilogy of surreal and spacious leftfield electronics. "A stellar project headed by Sandro Perri, one of the most singular producers in contemporary music" (Boomkat), this third volume is another distinctive collection of tracks constructed from semi-improvised ensemble recordings made over the past decade with a varied cast of coconspirators. Drew Brown, Matthew Cooper, Susumu Mukai and Andrew Zukerman join Perri again on a variety of synths and machines, along with violinist Jesse Zubot (Tanya Tagaq, Fond Of Tigers). Perri also continues to add organ and piano to the mix, while Volume 3 notably features first-time Off World contributors Nicole Rampersaud on trumpet and Martin Arnold on guitar, both mainstays of Toronto's vibrant improv and out-music scenes. The Quietus calls Off World "genuinely explorative_the musical equivalent of a Dali-esque landscape" which through all sorts of genre-defying twists and turns, at times evokes "offkilter, late Miles Davis ambience". Off World 3 doubles down on that jazz-adjacent trope in certain respects, while holding fast to Pitchfork's dictum that Perri "cultivates his own genreless brand of futurism." Marked by longer tracks than previous collections, three of the album's five songs clock in around the 10-minute mark, where overtly improvised instrumental playing wends its way across alternately bubbling and woozy electronic beds. "Impulse Controller" is a languidly skewed rhumba where ambling melodic undercurrents and dubby electronic pointillism provide a dulcet promenade for Rampersaud's Miles-esque trumpet excursions. "Ludic Loop" see-saws along in a slow synthy two-step, punctuated by Perri's restrained piano chords and Arnold's fried electric guitar. "Empasse" is perhaps most reminiscent of earlier Off World collections, though again slowed and stretched, with oozing synth bass ostinatos counterposed by ambient layers of viola and violin filigree from Zubot. These three centerpiece longform tracks each highlight one of the album's instrumental improvisers, and taken together, make for the most scintillating sedate and ruminant album in the trilogy. Off World 3 sounds as sui generis as ever, but in wrapping up the series, Perri sprinkles the project's emblematic alien surrealism with decidedly anthropic elements and temporalities. This final volume in the trilogy could also be seen as a re-statement of Perri's politico-aesthetic mission, as aptly celebrated by Pitchfork and its glowing 8.0+ reviews of Perri's 2018/2019 solo albums In Another Life and Soft Landing (released between Off World 2 and the present volume): a uniquely purposeful, subtly detailed cannon of songs "busy, vibrant, and bursting with life, but that aren't ever in a rush to get anywhere."

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Folk duo lilo's ascent continues with second EP, I Don’t Like My Chances On The Outside. Having met at school aged 11, Christie Gardner and Helen Dixon’s friendship runs over a decade deep. Starting out with homespun recordings and YouTube covers, by the time they moved to London in their late-teens, they had an unshakeable creative bond that forms an incredible bedrock for them to flourish from. Their exceptional debut EP Sleep Country (Practise Music) came out in late-2021. Taking cues from alt-folk and classic country, it showed a maturity and dexterity that belied their years. As Loud & Quiet said of the band in a recent interview, "what sets them apart from their contemporaries is a real understanding of Americana-influenced folk’s lineage as a genre. Think Emmylou Harris’ soul bearing and the pitchperfect vocal glide of Karen Carpenter." New EP, I Don’t Like My Chances On The Outside, is a truly brilliant follow-up that underscores that we're no longing talking about promise with this duo. Working with producer friend Joseph Futák, they're now firmly in their stride, deftly counterbalancing delicate moments and harmony-led pop highs across a full-bodied band sound. Their lyrics speak for their generation too, encapsulating the panic, anxiety and love of twenty-somethings at a time of great uncertainty; from single 'Settled' where the financial realities of needing to move back in with your parents to the sheer relief of ending a relationship on 'I Don't Love You Anymore' and 'Just A Thought's failing attempts to pull a friend away from a bad person ("It's your hill to die on," they warn), nothing is off the plate.

Cleveland-based producer Tim Thornton makes music under the moniker Tiger Village. Thornton has carved out a niche in the American experimental underground through the wide-spanning releases of his own label Suite 309, as well as through his day job as a quality control supervisor at the Gotta Groove Records manufacturing plant — meaning that his ears serve as the finish line for a vast slate
of vinyl projects that hit the market every year. The Celebration, the fourth Tiger Village release on Hausu Mountain since 2014, joins a catalog that includes releases on Orange Milk, Patient Sounds,
and HausMo sublabel Blorpus Editions, along with a battery of music self-released through Suite 309.


Within the jittering IDM-adjacent networks of The Celebration, Thornton expands his craft on multiple concurrent trajectories, digging deeper into complex drum programming and labyrinthine synth arrangement while further exploring passages of vocal synthesis and non-recursive song structures that thrive on unpredictability and constant fluctuation. Thornton can’t help but bring a wide-eyed curiosity to anything he produces, as he rejects the dead-serious gun-metal intensity of many strains of contemporary electronic production in favor of bright tones and wonky rhythms.

Like fellow Hausu Mountain artists Wobbly and Moth Cock, Tiger Village revels in cheeky compositional about-faces and
carnivalesque synth lines. In all their staccato voices and peals of abstract texture, Thornton’s tracks blur the lines between harmonic electronic elements and drum patterns. The album morphs before our
ears every few seconds or so, allowing arrhythmic loops and alternating rhythmic grids to contrast against whatever might seem to be the bedrock of any given piece. By paying attention to the
trajectory of every dollop of sound, Tiger Village pulls off magic tricks in his pointillist arrangements in which nothing remains static — everything pushes towards a state of progressive complication.

Die französisch-irische Alternative-Rock-Metal-Band MOLYBARON ist bekannt für ihren energiegeladenen, harten Sound, der Elemente aus Alt-Rock, Hard Rock und modernem Metal zu einem eklektischen, dynamischen Klangerlebnis verschmelzen lässt. MOLYBARON liefern eine intensiv rohe, originelle musikalische Signatur, welche Fans aller Genres anspricht. Mit "SOMETHING OMINOUS" verschieben MOLYBARON die Grenzen und präsentieren eine einzigartige Mischung aus tiefem Groove, stampfendem Metal und Heavy Rock. Songs voller Charakter, die durch eine donnernde Rhythmussektion, krachende Bässe unter riffgeladenen Gitarren und chilligen Synthies vermittelt werden. Tracks mit eingängigen Refrains, die durch nachdenklich stimmende Texte geprägt sind, nehmen den Hörer mit auf eine Reise voller Überraschungen und neuer Entdeckungen. Das Album ist ein Beweis für MOLYBARONs außergewöhnliches musikalisches Können, das mühelos durch ein breites Spektrum an Emotionen und Musikstilen navigiert und ein wahrhaft eindringliches Erlebnis schafft. Jeder Track ist akribisch ausgearbeitet und geht nahtlos von stampfenden Hymnen zu introspektiven Balladen über. Der unverkennbare Sound von MOLYBARON wird sich tief einprägen. Die Texte von "SOMETHING OMINOUS" befassen sich mit tiefgründigen und manchmal provokanten Themen und erforschen die Komplexität der menschlichen Erfahrung in der heutigen Zeit. Sie ziehen sich wie ein roter Faden durch die 10 bewusst knapp gehaltenen Songs und kommen direkt auf den Punkt, sind aber aktueller denn je: Alterung, Verfall und die Erosion der Gesellschaft. Das Album nähert sich dem akuten Bewusstsein für den Lauf der Zeit, wenn wir älter werden - dem nachklingenden Bedauern über kostbare Zeit, die mit unwichtigen Dingen und Beziehungen verbracht wurde, der Erwartung, die zu verlieren, die man liebt, und der Angst, alt und allein zu sein. Darüber hinaus geht es um den aktuellen Zustand der Politik - die Absprachen zwischen Staat, Medien und großen Unternehmen; die Manipulation der Öffentlichkeit, die systematische Zensur von Andersdenkenden und unabhängigem Journalismus. Dieses Album ist nicht einfach nur Musik; es ist berauschend und macht süchtig und hungrig nach mehr. "SOMETHING OMINOUS" ist ein Muss für Deine Sammlung.

Keane’s first official compilation album, The Best of Keane, pressed to 180g vinyl for the first time. Features their biggest tracks ‘Somewhere Only We Know’, ‘Everybody’s Changing’ & ‘This Is The Last Time’ as well as two new songs written during their 2012 Strangeland era, ‘Higher Than The Sun’ and ‘Won’t Be Broken’

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada , the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore , speaks not just for its beloved namesake _ a hotel in Croatia facing renovation _ but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephem - eral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore's decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slow - ing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements . "When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency." For the title and inspiration, Lattimore's mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water's edge. "There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to `say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back' and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way." Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special _ for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm _ and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels import - ant to memorialize them, "to bottle it for a brief second.

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada , the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore , speaks not just for its beloved namesake _ a hotel in Croatia facing renovation _ but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephem - eral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore's decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slow - ing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements . "When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency." For the title and inspiration, Lattimore's mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water's edge. "There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to `say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back' and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way." Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special _ for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm _ and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels import - ant to memorialize them, "to bottle it for a brief second.

Through evocative, emotionally resonant music, Goodbye, Hotel Arkada , the new LP from American harpist and composer Mary Lattimore , speaks not just for its beloved namesake _ a hotel in Croatia facing renovation _ but for a universal loss that is shared. Six sprawling pieces shaped by change; nothing will ever be the same, and here, the artist, evolving in synthesis, celebrates and mourns the tragedy and beauty of the ephem - eral, all that is lived and lost to time. Documented and edited in uncharacteristically measured sessions over the course of two years, the material remains rooted in improvisation while glistening as the most refined and robust in Lattimore's decade-long catalog. It finds her communing with friends, contemporaries, and longtime influences, in full stride yet slow - ing down to nurture songs in new ways. The cast includes Lol Tolhurst (The Cure), Meg Baird, Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Roy Montgomery, Samara Lubelski, and Walt McClements . "When I think of these songs, I think about fading flowers in vases, melted candles, getting older, being on tour and having things change while you're away, not realizing how ephemeral experiences are until they don't happen anymore, fear for a planet we're losing because of greed, an ode to art and music that's really shaped your life that can transport you back in time, longing to maintain sensitivity and to not sink into hollow despondency." For the title and inspiration, Lattimore's mind returns to the island of Hvar in Croatia, where she first saw those silver ladders at the water's edge. "There's a big old hotel there called the Hotel Arkada, and you could tell it had been hosting holiday-goers for decades in a great way. I walked around the lobby and the empty ballrooms and it looked like a well-worn, well-loved place. My friend Stacey who lives there told me to `say goodbye to Hotel Arkada, it might not be here when you get back' and I heard soon after that it was actually going to be renovated in a very crisp, modern way." Lattimore became fixated on the ingredients that make a place special _ for Hotel Arkada, the patinaed chandeliers, the patterned bedspreads, the echoes of its intangible charm _ and how when those leave this world, as they inevitably always will, it feels import - ant to memorialize them, "to bottle it for a brief second.

Baby Queen veröffentlicht ihr Debütalbum „Quarter Life Crisis“.

Das Album stellt für die leidenschaftliche Künstlerin ein Zeichen ihrer Reise als Künstlerin dar. Mit ihrem „Bedroom-Pop“ Sound begeistert die gebürtige Südafrikanerin, welche 2016 nach London zog, Fans auf der ganzen Welt. Ihren Durchbruch schaffte die talentierte Sängerin mit der Netflix Serie „Heartstopper“ für welche sie den Titelsong „Colors Of You“ schrieb. Des Weiteren wurden in der erfolgreichen Serie ihre Hits wie „Want Me“ & „Dover Beach“ aufgenommen. Baby Queen kreiert ihren eigenen Stil in dem sie Pop Sounds mit einer punkigen Aggression kombiniert.

Das Album ist als CD und Vinyl erhältlich.

Stelios Vassiloudis enters an inspiring new phase as he unveils his sophomore LP All Else Fails available March 25th via Balance Music.

Hailing from Athens, Greece, Stelios Vassiloudis poses a triple threat as a composer, producer and DJ. Having been active in the electronic music scene since the early 2000s he has cultivated his own brand of distinctive ambience reflective of his rich and diverse musical background; transcending the dance floor via an emotional narrative of complex soundscapes, intricate harmonies and hypnotic rhythms. Over the past decade Stelios has released music under various other monikers, yet this new endeavour is his most diligent to date - allowing him to rediscover his love for making music during the process, "I'm more hopeful, inspired and determined than ever before."

Ten years on from the release of his debut LP, Stelios' detail-oriented offerings remain incomprehensibly thought-provoking and thorough with this new album. Noticeably dissimilar to any previous efforts, Stelios consciously took a step back from the pressure of maintaining a steadily flowing supply of functional, club-oriented music and as the world stood still amidst the pandemic, he embraced the opportunity to reconnect and express himself with a broader musical vocabulary. He admits that: "with the world around us seemingly on the fast track to Armageddon, the music ended up being very much reflective of the sadness and helplessness I felt."

All Else Fails is a stimulating odyssey to anyone listening. Harmonically dense, arcadian glistens seep throughout the ten tracks, each complementary to the next. Bask in the wistful iridescence and you won't be disappointed.

Stelios carved his way into electronic music by traversing around the globe as a DJ and performer - performing at intimate underground bars in Beirut, festivals in Miami, after-hours in Tokyo, beaches in Goa and mega clubs in Argentina. Having developed a formidable discography on esteemed labels such as Bedrock, Poker Flat, Ovum, Constant Sound and Darkroom Dubs, among others, Stelios' studio prowess and coveted productions cemented his reputation as a versatile and acclaimed artist. His intense passion and drive for innovation in music serves as the fuel to keep him inspired and relevant, qualities that no doubt ensure his reputation as an artist of the highest calibre, will endure.

After taking time out from working together to focus on separate musical projects, maverick composer Alan Roberts (Jim Noir) and crowd-rousing vocalist Leonore Wheatley (International Teachers of Pop / The Soundcarriers) have re-joined forces to introduce Co-Pilot. Each the other’s wing person, they’re plotting an escape through Manchester’s claustrophobic grey skies with the pencil case colour of a hand-sewn multi-coloured primary school patchwork quilt. “We are both the creators in charge of navigating Co-Pilot’s overall sound which changes from track to track,” Leonore hints at what to expect. “There are about 6 different genres on one album, it's a pick n mix record!”


Happy in the haze of many boozy hours the album was recorded over just a few months whilst holed up and hanging out in Al’s city centre Dookstereo studio. The former Mill allowed the pair to relax, laugh and create without constraint. Armed with their original demos and vocal recordings from Al’s flat, they’d nip by the offie to pick up some Dutch courage before setting to work: building arrangements from a drum beat and basic chord pattern, the pair were so in tune they rarely spoke, allowing only the music to lead the way. “We’d communicate through nods of agreement or grimaces of dismay,” Leonore recalls. “Using the instruments with Al in production mode, we let the sound dictate the process whilst being drunk enough to follow it.”
The sound of life coming full circle after honing their separate crafts, Leonore had previously played keys and vocals in Jim Noir’s live band before moving on to front International Teachers of Pop for two critically lauded albums of joyous dancefloor filling bangers - their self-titled debut (2019) and Pop Gossip (2020). During that time Al would further expand Jim Noir’s universe with AM Jazz, which was celebrated as the no.1 album in Piccadilly Records’ ‘End of Year Review’ (2020), followed by the Deep View Blue E.P. (2021) cementing his status as one of Manchester’s finest songwriters.
As Leonore added her vocal magic to Al’s early demos of what would eventually become Co-Pilot’s ‘Spring Beach’ and a crooked original version of closing track ‘Corner House’, the vibe was prophetic “like the ending of Grease as Danny and Sandy take flight through the clouds”, letting their imaginations fly. The songs were the catalyst to spark a new phase of the pair working together, picking up where they left off. “From messing about with sounds during rehearsals in the very beginning it was always clear we liked the combination of sounds we made,” Leonore recalls.
Powered by a ‘try anything’ approach, Co-Pilot blends the musical DNA of what you’ve come to expect from each of the pair’s previous flight paths. “Whatever is switched on or nearby gets used. There's no 'correct' for us. If it sounds good, record it,” Al tells. United through typically turbulent wonky pop and lurking samples, whether culled from 70s TV themes or recreations of past and found sounds (see Al’s 60s tropicalia guitar on ‘Brick’, or the innocent ‘Swim to Sweden’ which opens with an ice cream van jingle Al recorded from his bedroom window) their process offers up a bucket load of Easter eggs. The album even features snippets from dearly departed pal Batfinks whilst ‘Motosaka’ is perhaps the most expensive 2-minutes on the album, featuring a Columbia Records Japan-cleared sample of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s ‘Thousand Knives’. Its synth squelches and Tom Tom Club funk also received the blessing of Haroumi Hosono, Godfather of Japanese Electronica, who agreed to being sampled in an original version of the song. “We just kept listening back and hitting gold,” Al recalls. “I was thinking ‘yeah, not sure what this is but I like it! We were buzzing with what we had made.”
But the sound wouldn’t come without self-imposed instrumental challenges. Thanks to an old mellotron sample on ‘Move To It,’ the moog riff and nautical accordion breaks on ‘Swim To Sweden’ and the 6/8 and 7/8 jaunt of ‘Brick’, time signatures were lovingly skewed to create Co-Pilot’s unique mood. “It was a bastard getting the drums right,” Leonore reveals, “but I like the wonkiness”. Levelling up through the lyrics, the words of smoky and evocative ‘She Walks In Beauty’ are based on a Lord Byron poem, with the sentiment of remembering Leonore’s late grandparents. “I wanted to see how much I could get away with just singing on one note, and how I could harmonically change everything else around it vocally,” she says. Elsewhere ‘Can You See’ was written from the perspective of a concerned sister to a brother which tells of keeping someone safe. “The lyrics are quite metaphorical about day-to-day happenings, people loved and lost. Others are rhythmic nonsense! It’s up to the listener to figure out what’s true.”
It’s clear from Al’s productive production techniques and Leonore’s knack for vocals and lyricism, Co-Pilot’s course is engineered by two aeronautically adept sonic storytellers. “We share a pretty similar sense of humour,” Al tells, “It is funny listening to this quite serious album but knowing we were giggling as we recorded it all. It’s been great to have another brain to bounce off.” Their destination might be unknown, but the clouds are about to part for a sound that is light years ahead. “You'll like at least one song,” Leonore suggests, “and hopefully them all.”