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The first revolutionary fracture in The Fall was the sudden departure of guitarist Martin Bramah. Commonly understood as the only viable challenger to Mark E Smith's dominance of the band, Bramah was The Fall's first singer and primary songwriter at the start. His subsequent group, Blue Orchids, was originally a reconstitution of the first recorded line-up of The Fall, without Mark, but with another slightly later Fall member, Eric McGann. After slight revisions in the lineup, Blue Orchids created a singular sound of maniacally aberrant psych on two thrilling singles - "The Flood" and "Work" - before recording one of the most imperfectly perfect debuts in what could no longer really be called 'rock and roll'. 'The Greatest Hit (Money Mountain)' eschews the frenetic energy of those singles to present itself as the greatest 'morning after the trip' albums ever - Martin and Una's wonderful explanations of the experiential backdrop to "Sun Connection" take up nearly as much space as those of all the other songs combined! Without exception, the songs are brilliant, majestic and memorable . . . plus it's possible that more covers of songs from 'The Greatest Hit' have been recorded by bands of credibility and renown than from any single Fall LP (although we're counting!), with near-contemporaneous versions arising from Fish & Roses, Slovenly, Dustdevils and Aztec Camera and many others since. Never reissued on vinyl since its 1982 release, due to objections from the WB Yeats estate for the album's musical interpretation of the author's "Mad As The Mist And Snow" (now in public domain!), this deluxe edition includes a bonus album with two unreleased pre-album demos, two further demos released only on long out-of-print cassette compilations from more than forty years ago, and scorching live set featuring several of their early songs, extensive liner notes from Martin Bramah and Una Baines, a reproduction of the original lyric fold-over booklet and (with the 2LP version), a download card. The original artwork for the album and booklet have been restored painstakingly, and as Bramah himself says, "It's better than the original." Four decades later, we're ecstatic to make this classic available again. Tiny Global Production's first album, "Awefull", is also available. A companion to this release, it contains the band's first two 7" singles, the album's four-song follow-up 12" 'Agents Of Change', and two unheard demos.

After 8 years Georgian pioneer George Dzodzuashvili is back as Post Industrial Boys with a new album. It's his most personal record to date and opens up its own world: a world full of memories of a bygone time and observations so precise you almost feel like you are living and capturing them yourself with a Super8 camera.

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Jakarta Records is proud to present “Les Grandes Vacances” courtesy of Beirut’s Cosmic Analog Ensemble, aka multi-instrumental phenom Charif Megarbane. The LP is an expansive musical odyssey, one that paints a melodic tapestry woven from an eclectic panorama of sonic tools. Funky beats, dreamy melodies + cinematic flair combine to create an experience that transcends time. From vibrant funky energy to introspective moods and library-inspired tunes, “Les Grandes Vacances” captures the essence of past and present, inviting you to indulge in the perfect balance of “groove-stalgia.” Out January 19, 2024.


Cosmic Analog Ensemble (1.6k Spotify Monthly Listeners – SML), the prolific one-man band helmed by Charif Megarbane (61.5k SML), the staggeringly prolific producer, instrumentalist, and all-around musical mastermind, returns to his “Ensemble” with LP “Les Grandes Vacances.” Megarbane's artistry has garnered widespread recognition, with notable placements in Spotify Editorial Playlists like "Global Groove" (679k) and "Folk Fabrique" (162k), along with coverage from esteemed platforms / publications such as BBC Radio, Bandcamp, The Vinyl Factory, Time Magazine, and Esquire, among others. Building on the success of his debut solo release “Marzipan” in 2023 via Habibi Funk, “Les Grandes Vacances” is a sonic journey that captures the full scope of Megarbane’s sonic habitus. As a composer and producer, Megarbane touts hugely versatile, sometimes volatile musicianship — his 100+ catalogue of projects (including legendary groups like the Cosmic Analog Ensemble, Free Association Syndicate, Monumental Detail, etc.) features a huge domain of sonic direction. Now, Jakarta Records presents a new expansion in the Megarbane sonic universe.

In the enchanting sonic world of “Les Grandes Vacances,” Cosmic Analog Ensemble expertly combines diverse musical elements to craft an immersive experience. From vibrant funky energy to introspective moments and library-inspired compositions, the album's sonic palette is rich and varied. The meticulously designed artwork by Simone Cihlar (known for collabs with Anderson Paak., Tom Misch, Ivan Ave, Tapioca and others) complements the album's thematic depth, enhancing the visual and auditory journey for listeners.

First single is the thrilling sonic escapade, “La Ligne Claire,” set to release on November 10th in conjunction with LP pre-order. The track immerses listeners in vintage spy movie ambiance, featuring groovy drums, warm keys, thematic guitars, and strings that create an unforgettable car chase scene. As part of the rollout schedule, this single offers a glimpse into the album's captivating fusion of nostalgia and innovation, promising a musical adventure that lingers and resonates in your ears. Second single, the lush and groovy “Le Dictionnaire des Sentiments,” follows in the sonic footsteps of Serge Gainsbourg (complete with beautifully poignant French lyricism), out December 8th to round out the year. The track jerks the listener towards a more meditative state and expanding, cinematic sound.

Kicking of 2024 will be the absolute funkified single 3 “Maritime Jazz,” out January 5th. The track transports you to a groovy marina where the movement of the sea and boats sways you along a Madlib / Yesterdays New Quintet-esque groove.

Reflecting on his creative process, Megarbane cites a stream of consciousness approach to the Cosmic Analog Ensemble: “It’s a very spontaneous, playful, and diary-like approach and workflow…I trust my instinct because instinct is based on experience.”

A documentation of the long exit (the triumphal entry), moving the camera back 8 stages along the circumference of the circle to the point where the obverse is reverse, in order to celebrate the building of an edifice and then walk away from it in wisdom, gaining freedom from it.

With their profound take on electronic music, Animistic Beliefs have steadily solidified their spot in the global underground. Influenced by cultural concepts such as ancestry, animism and mythology, as well as the languages of political techno, punk, bubbling and IDM, Linh Luu and Marvin Lalihatu consistently translate their visions into sensitive productions as well as high-octane live performances. On MERDEKA, the artists explore and embrace their cultural heritage in all of its pride, pain and complexity. It symbolizes Animistic Beliefs' breaking free, coming to terms with their changing selves and letting go of external expectations. The record rethinks childhood memories, confronts the generational trauma left by (post-)colonialism, and re-connects Linh and Marvin â?? respectively of Vietnamese-Chinese and Dutch-Moluccan descent â?? with their formative cultures. MERDEKA marks their first step in an overall departure from western club music. For its layered sound, Animistic Beliefs once again draw from the past, present and future of global club music, creating a sonic space where fast techno, warped breakbeats and ambient soundscapes make way for the augmented influence of (Southeast Asian) tribal music. The record incorporates Indonesian scales and recordings of the Tahuri (a wind instrument made out of a conch shell), Totobuang (Gamelan-like gongs) and Tifa drums, known as â??the Moluccan heartbeatâ??. In true Animistic Beliefs fashion, MERDEKA will set fire to sweltering clubs and (sleepless) dreams. Yet, for the artists, it is essential to amplify the stories that spark that flame and keep it burning. The release of MERDEKA follows CACHE/SPIRIT, their ongoing collaboration with visual artist Jeisson Drenth, which extensively explores the artistsâ?? intersectional identities. As such, the latest album is the next step within a bigger, introspective investigation. More unapologetic than ever, MERDEKA embodies a turning point on Animistic Beliefsâ?? ongoing journey towards self-acceptance â?? fuelled by the sound of urgency.

Pink Vinyl. The title of the most recent Atmosphere album, May 2023's So Many Other Realities Exist Simultaneously, evokes the multiversal storytelling that's recently vaulted into the mainstream consciousness. With their latest effort, the irrepressible Talk Talk EP, the Minneapolis legends dart across threads of space-time to grab hold of the one where Slug and Ant became titans of the electro-rap that was foundational to their youths. By evoking acts like Kraftwerk and Egyptian Lover, Atmosphere makes visions of the future from four decades ago seem new once again, the relentless forward churn of technological optimism reimagined as an endless loop with irresistible drums. The genesis of the Talk Talk EP was the session for a song of the same name that appeared on So Many Other Realities Exist Simultaneously. A collaboration with Lifter Puller alum Bat Flower, the song "Talk Talk" exists alongside electro classics in an uncanny valley that's been warped into a sweaty nightclub, at once vaguely alien and deeply human. Enamored with the song's outcome, Slug and Ant returned for a longer exploration of the sound, to mesmeric results. The pulsing "Rotary Telephone," where the TV antennas seem tuned to a world just slightly askew from ours, thrives on the tension between Slug's careening vocals and the song's taught structure_form matched perfectly with content. And on "Hear Hear," the struggle to make human connections is revealed as a beautiful one. For all its well-documented roots in disco and R&B, rap's connection to the electronic music of the 1970s and `80s is a core part of its DNA. The Talk Talk EP is one of the clearest articulations of this truth to emerge in many years, a testament to the communal power of programmed sound. For proof, look no further than "Traveling Forever," the haunting missive that closes out the record. Images flash: of police knees on necks, of prying cameraphones, another empty hotel room indistinguishable from the last. "I never got to learn how to dance for you," Slug raps, pointedly. "I don't know whether or not that's an attribute." A chill runs down your spine but the skull at its top keeps nodding.

■ "Camera" ist ein Album, auf dem Frank Boeijen nach dem beeindruckenden Album "As" zurück zu
den Grundlagen geht. Es ist eine Bandplatte, die sich auf Pop-Songs konzentriert. Aufgenommen
wurde es im ICP-Studio in Brüssel, wo Boeijen zuvor "Vaderland" aufgenommen hat. Das Album dreht
sich um Freundschaft und Wärme und enthält Fan-Favoriten wie "De Streken Van De Meester," "Alles
Wat Ik Had" und "Op Een Dag." "Camera" ist First Time auf Vinyl erhältlich und enthält ein Beiblatt mit
den Songtexten.

A tech company's "senior spirit guide" finally comes to the defense of the "financially unsuccessful" Vincent van Gogh; wonders of the natural world are reimagined as "muster points for brainstorming innovators"; the "artificial char lines" on fast-food burgers are cited as if signs of the apocalypse. For the better part of three decades, Aesop Rock has used the syntax of the moment to pinpoint the fault lines in that moment's supposedly solid foundation. With his tenth album, Integrated Tech Solutions, Aes wields insidious corporatespeak as a tool to pry that parasitic worldview away from the parts of life that truly matter. A concept album about an organization offering "lifestyle- and industry-specific applications designed to curate a desired multi-experience," Integrated Tech Solutions picks apart the charlatan language that hears app inventors put themselves on continuums starting with cavemen and continuing through da Vinci. On "Mindful Solutionism," the wheel evolves seamlessly into modern agriculture - and then into atomic bombs, Agent Orange, cigarettes, and surveillance cameras. In a rare moment of transparency, the engineers Aes give voice to sum up this spiral in just a few words: "We cannot be trusted with the stuff that we come up with." Appropriately, the album sounds like the past and future at once. Largely self-produced, Integrated Tech Solutions catches Aes at his leanest and most innovative, leveraging "SolutionismÖs careening bounce against the wistful "By the River" or the slow creep of "Salt and Pepper Squid." The effect is a record that sounds itself like an organism growing, mutating, hurtling toward profitability - and then destruction. As fans have come to expect, Aes is cuttingly funny and slyly profound at once, whether recounting a childhood restaurant run-in with Mr. T ("100 Feet Tall") or quipping, on "Pigeonometry," that "white dove is a pigeon - you motherfuckers is bigots." At the same time, Integrated Tech Solutions is working on another parallel project: tracing the sprawl of modernity and cutting directly to its core. "I've been doing laps of the lost worlds," he raps on "All City Nerve Map," sounding at once wearied and reinvigorated. "I can draw a map to the raw nerve."

A tech company's "senior spirit guide" finally comes to the defense of the "financially unsuccessful" Vincent van Gogh; wonders of the natural world are reimagined as "muster points for brainstorming innovators"; the "artificial char lines" on fast-food burgers are cited as if signs of the apocalypse. For the better part of three decades, Aesop Rock has used the syntax of the moment to pinpoint the fault lines in that moment's supposedly solid foundation. With his tenth album, Integrated Tech Solutions, Aes wields insidious corporatespeak as a tool to pry that parasitic worldview away from the parts of life that truly matter.



A concept album about an organization offering "lifestyle- and industry-specific applications designed to curate a desired multi-experience," Integrated Tech Solutions picks apart the charlatan language that hears app inventors put themselves on continuums starting with cavemen and continuing through da Vinci. On "Mindful Solutionism," the wheel evolves seamlessly into modern agriculture—and then into atomic bombs, Agent Orange, cigarettes, and surveillance cameras. In a rare moment of transparency, the engineers Aes give voice to sum up this spiral in just a few words: "We cannot be trusted with the stuff that we come up with."



Appropriately, the album sounds like the past and future at once. Largely self-produced, Integrated Tech Solutions catches Aes at his leanest and most innovative, leveraging "Solutionism"'s careening bounce against the wistful "By the River" or the slow creep of "Salt and Pepper Squid." The effect is a record that sounds itself like an organism growing, mutating, hurtling toward profitability-and then destruction. As fans have come to expect, Aes is cuttingly funny and slyly profound at once, whether recounting a childhood restaurant run-in with Mr. T ("100 Feet Tall") or quipping, on "Pigeonome- try," that "white dove is a pigeon-you motherfuckers is bigots." At the same time, Integrated Tech Solutions is working on another parallel project: tracing the sprawl of modernity and cutting directly to its core. "I've been doing laps of the lost worlds," he raps on "All City Nerve Map," sounding at once wearied and reinvigorated. "I can draw a map to the raw nerve."






[f] Kyanite Toothpick [feat. Hanni El Khatib]




[k] Bermuda [feat. Lealani Teano]


[n] Forward Compatibility Engine [feat. Rob Sonic]



[r] Black Snow [feat. Nikki Jean]

William Eggleston is a famed photographer and musician credited for iconic album covers such as Spoon's Transference and Jimmy Eat World's Bleed American. 512 was inspired and recorded at the Parkview Apartments in Memphis, Tennessee where Eggleston lived for almost ten years. The apartment was full of art and inspiration: cameras, naturally, but also high-end stereo tube amplifiers and objects that you'd rush towards money in hand at your local flea market. But also a gigantic nine foot Bosendorfer grand piano and a massive grand vintage JBL theater speaker console. His home was overwhelmed by music. By recording there the album captures not just his performances, but also the vibe of the place; it often felt as though there were artists lurking in the aether listening along. His visitors over the years were no small change: Lee Friedlander, Carl Sagan, Dennis Hopper , Paul McCartney and many others came to see him and listen to his hypnotic "Musik". You can hear local traffic, a dog barking, weather; reality, in other words. But there was another space layered on top, a kind of surreality echoing his music, as you can imagine a gathering of musicians listening in, eager to join him. Thus came along 512 which features the legendary Brian Eno on bells and production from Leo Abrahams (Regina Spektor, Paul Simon, Jon Hopkins)."

William Eggleston is a famed photographer and musician credited for iconic album covers such as Spoon's Transference and Jimmy Eat World's Bleed American. 512 was inspired and recorded at the Parkview Apartments in Memphis, Tennessee where Eggleston lived for almost ten years. The apartment was full of art and inspiration: cameras, naturally, but also high-end stereo tube amplifiers and objects that you'd rush towards money in hand at your local flea market. But also a gigantic nine foot Bosendorfer grand piano and a massive grand vintage JBL theater speaker console. His home was overwhelmed by music. By recording there the album captures not just his performances, but also the vibe of the place; it often felt as though there were artists lurking in the aether listening along. His visitors over the years were no small change: Lee Friedlander, Carl Sagan, Dennis Hopper , Paul McCartney and many others came to see him and listen to his hypnotic "Musik". You can hear local traffic, a dog barking, weather; reality, in other words. But there was another space layered on top, a kind of surreality echoing his music, as you can imagine a gathering of musicians listening in, eager to join him. Thus came along 512 which features the legendary Brian Eno on bells and production from Leo Abrahams (Regina Spektor, Paul Simon, Jon Hopkins)."

Reissue des legendären 2005er Mercury-Prize-nominierten Debütalbums der Birminghamer Indierock-Legenden Editors auf limitiertem Clear-Vinyl.

The Cinematic Orchestra kündigen eine limitierte Vinyl-Reissue ihres erstmal 2003 veröffentlichten Klassikers 'Man With A Movie Camera’ an. Im Rahmen der Filmfestspiele zur Europäischen Kulturstadt Porto im Jahr 2001 wurde Jason Swinscoe vom Cinematic Orchestra beauftragt, einen Soundtrack zu einem Stummfilm zu komponieren, der einmalig aufgeführt werden sollte. Bei dem Film handelte es sich um Dziga Vertovs Experimentalwerk „Der Mann mit der Kamera“, einen frühen Dokumentarfilm aus der Ukraine von 1929, den viele, darunter das British Film Institute, fast 100 Jahre nach seiner Entstehung als einen der besten Filme aller Zeiten bezeichnen. Die Aufführung fand im historischen Coliseu do Porto statt und endete mit stehenden Ovationen von 3.500 Menschen. The Cinematic Orchestra hat die Show im Laufe der Jahre auf internationalen Tourneen aufgeführt, unter anderem im Barbican in London, im Winter Garden des World Trade Centers in New York und im Sydney Opera House.

"John R Miller is a true hyphenate artist: singer-songwriter-picker. Every song on his thrilling sophomore solo album, Heat Comes Down, is lush with intricate wordplay and haunting imagery, as well as being backed by a band that is on fire. Heat Comes Down, produced by Andrija Tokic (Alabama Shakes), is a collection of eleven gems, all penned by Miller, an album that stands strong as an entity but also provides tight singles that confirm Miller as a songwriting force. Miller possesses a rich voice, a flair for leading a band, and perhaps most of all, a startling ability for songwriting that results in an album that will have widespread appeal. Miller has achieved that most difficult yet most important thing: presenting the universal in the specific, while also pulling the camera back to reveal the longings that unite us all. John R. Miller comes to the UK February to support Tyler Childers on his UK headline tour."

ENG The new Will Toledo from Austria? - LAUNDROMAT CHICKS is the music project of TOBIAS HAMMERMÜLLER, who just turned 18 and still goes to school. He recorded most of the songs from his debut on Siluh Records by himself. Live he performs them with his band featuring Lena Pöttinger (drums), Theresa Strohmer (guitar, vocals) and Felix Schnabl (bass). Felix Schnabel, on the other hand, has his own garage punk project called SALAMIRECORDER, with Tobias playing bass. Musically, the whole thing sounds like an exquisite jingle-jangle indie/twee-pop sound. It almost seems like a lost album from early influential labels like Flying Nun, Cherry Red, Postcard Records. The songs from "Trouble" were mostly written at home, in the bedroom, in front of the TV and at his favorite spot at the movies. The basic mood of the songs is mostly melancholic, though that you can still cook or dance to, or listen to on the bus when you're on your way to going out with your friends. Tobias Hammermüller took inspiration from the indie rock sound of the 2010s (Snail Mail, Chastity Belt, The Babies, Best Coast, The Drums) and from many new wave hits (Aztec Camera, Psychedelic Furs, Echo and the Bunnymen, Prefab Sprout). The lines of text are largely based on quotes from films. He is particularly fond of the old strips by Éric Rohmer and Wim Wenders, and from New Hollywood/Nouvelle Vague movies, because they often deal with identity crises and escapism, just like his songs.

Memory is malleable. The day you met the person you love, what color shirt was she wearing? At precisely what angle did the sunlight strike his face? How exactly did they glow? These little details are precious, but the strange thing is, the more you cherish them, the more they change. Each recollection is another potential touch point where stories can shift—each replay degrades the truth. Reality's rough edges smooth, with time. Objectivity is a myth: cameras and recording devices all contort image and sound. There's no way to know exactly how things were. And yet we still tell the stories, to try to capture how things felt, even though the truth is always slipping through our fingers.

Lemon Quartet's second albumArts Festseems to unconsciously circle this thematic territory. Full of loose, yet lush repetition, it seems to function like memory—each dizzy melody recalling and rewriting what came before, subtly shaping each piece as time passes. Not that they seem especially concerned with the passage of time anyway. They space out, they work in the realm of feelings, scribbling melodious abstractions that feel familiar. Rich with compassion, harmony, and gestures toward ecstatic—if not objective—truth, it's full of the sort of pieces that demand you return to them, but sound a bit different each time, new details overtaking familiar comforts. Are you hearing them for the first time? Or just for the first time in a long time? Either way, drift away, and try to remember…

For over two decades Jonathan Katsav has used his Crave project to fray rap at its fringes, using Memphis and Houston's low-and-slow legacy to inform sounds that have as much in common with Merzbow as they do Tommy Wright III. Working under a variety of different monikers such as Lieu Noir, Sniper Bait and Soul Collector, the French producer is most prolific as Crave, and "Inner War Delirium" is a substantial and broadly cinematic addition to his canon. Katsav approaches each track as if it's a scene from a movie, using real life experiences to explore separate characters and contrasting emotions. Using different narrators and disparate vocal styles, he navigates grim, blown-out landscapes, driving neon drenched trap synths and horror choirs against overdriven kicks and waterlogged industrial atmospheres. Mangled field recordings, squealing static and gurgling synthesized bass opens 'PHYLLIS', goading the cautious with serrated, carnival synths and cacophonous vocals that sway lugubriously between rap and grindcore. The relationship between dark and light, death and rebirth, is at the heart of "Inner War Delirium", rippling through every track's oozing amalgamation of inebriated hip-hop and buzzsaw noise. Katsav's sounds are an attempt to subject us to the physicality of his own life's puzzle, and he cuts them into vignettes like a director. On the album's final track, listeners are swiped from in front of the speakers and bundled into the trunk of a car, rain rattling on the metal and the album playing on in the distance. It's a way for the producer to turn the camera back on the audience and ask them to consider their own complicated reality - it's Crave's story, but everyone's a part of it.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

Imagine a world in which you are permitted, by a warlock, to go back in time to use an advanced yet primitive submarine to investigate the deepest waters in and around Japan, for the first time in human history. You are not permitted, but two Japanese scientists were allowed on such an aquatic adventure!

Here we have an underwater in-submarine field recording of their adventures, intermixed with a slippery-watery score, that surely represents the lurking fresh surroundings of the deep as they retreat further and further to the bottom of the ocean. The cameras, the retracting mechanical sea tentacle, their communication devices, are all audible now for you, as Deep Sea Animals is played out as a fresh digital radio play. All the audio has been preserved at Studio Isabellalei, by Milan W. from the original laserdisc, which was a part of the cinematic curatorial program at the opening for Spencer Clark’s album Avatar Blue, in Antwerp, Belgium.

With a purchase of the vinyl album of Deep Sea Animals on Pacific City Discs, you not only return to the prehistoric times of 1986, when two brave Japanese submarine pilots were to record deep underwater creatures, but you are also thus thrust back in time to Antwerp 2018, to a romantically titled, Event Horizon Cactus Cooler Laserdisc Theater. Just as well, the proceeds of this disk, tirelessly edited by Spencer Clark, will be donated to the preservation of the ocean, via the inspiring Sylvia A. Earle’s foundation, Mission Blue. Its not that you may or may not believe what I am now discussing with you, its that you can believe, because this disk is real, and thanks to Pacific City and Discrepant we will ride further into the super-natural realms of real life.