Suche:into you

Calling All Captains have built a reputation for turning personal struggle into explosive, emotionally charged punk rock. Blending post-hardcore grit with the melodic urgency of pop-punk and alt-rock, the Edmonton-based band delivers music that’s as volatile as it is vulnerable. Their upcoming EP, The Things That I’ve Lost (out January 9, 2026 via New Damage Records), is their most personal and sonically refined work to date. Recorded at The Audio Department in Edmonton, Alberta with longtime collaborator and producer Quinn Cyrankiewicz, the seven-track release features a standout co-write on “Blood for Blood” with world-acclaimed songwriter Tom Denney (A Day to Remember, Pierce the Veil, Neck Deep, etc.) Mastered by Stuart McKillop at Rain City Recorders, the EP explores burnout, grief, and the quiet collapse of identity; capturing a band reckoning with itself in real time: honest, raw, and entirely unfiltered. “This is the most personal release we’ve ever put out,” says Gauthier. “These songs came from a place of reflecting on everything we’ve been through, personally and as a band. It’s raw, but it’s real. And I think people will feel that.”

Belgian sitar player Nicolas Mortelmans will release his second album, titled "SPACE". For these recordings, he went into the studio with Roland van Campenhout, Stef Kamil Carlens, Tim Vanhamel and Simon Segers. The result of this encounter is a raw and honest record in which all the music is improvised. With this album, Nicolas returns to his roots and experiments with psychedelic rock, ambient, funk, and jazz. Expect an intense meditative and explosive listening experience.

Lillian King's debut album In Your Long Shadow is out October 24th. It is about letting the wind in, Lake Michigan in the winter, and the silence of a long summer evening. And really it's about the grief of losing her dad, Neil King Jr. When her dad died in September 2024, grief permeated every facet of Lillian's life. The loss is felt in everything, but especially when doing the things her dad loved the most -- the simple everyday good things that make life worth living: cooking, walking the longer way to work, swimming in cold water. In the throes of grief it feels impossible to find anything that doesn't just make you sadder, but when Lillian did find those things, she grabbed onto them. Soon it was clear that the best coping mechanisms weren't gin and tonics, but talking to her mom and sister as much as possible, and producing an album. The album arrangement came together in a couple of weeks as Lillian brought bandmates and friends Robert Salazar and Nick DePrey new and old songs to build on. Robert played the drums, while Nick played keys (with a smattering of bass and guitar). The process was collaborative and intimate, and only got better when Jack Henry (producer of albums by Friko and Free Range) joined to record and mix it. Some of the songs on this album are years old, including "Underwater", which Lillian wrote one late night in Montreal a decade ago. However, most came together in the months approaching recording."Dragging Dirt" was written just a week before getting into the studio. Despite the bummer material, the recording process was spontaneous and light hearted. The song "Echo" came together unexpectedly during a break between songs. In the midst of recording In Your Long Shadow, Lillian had concerns about making a "grief album." Her sister Frances, as usual, had the right advice: "Every album from now on is going to be a grief album." In Your Long Shadow is about loss as much as it is about living with it. Take it outside on a walk.

Bruit's sound is a tectonic collision of raw noise and patient, cinematic structure: layers of metallic percussion, low-end rumbles and fractured melodic fragments that creep, accumulate and then converge. Balancing soaring melancholy and industrial grit with meticulous dynamics, they turn long-form pieces into physical architectures where silence, resonance and sudden force are equally important. In this reissue of their staggering debut EP `Monolith', Bruit give us the opportunity to rediscover their first ever release, the completely self-produced and recorded record that defined their direction and introduced their world-shattering sound. `Monolith' is an epic portrayal at the centre of the human experience, the band's use of melancholia, industrial textures reimagined through patient dynamics, sculpted resonances, and a singular attention to momentum gives listeners access deep and power terrains. `Monolith' is the first expression of Bruit's exploration of material sound and human scale. Building on the dense palette of integrity and compositional mastery, Bruit interrogates what long-form composition can hold: memory, pressure, and a cinematic coalescence. Bruit's sound captures the exorbitant nature of the times, the outrageousness of humanity at a moment in time that is grotesque in scale and overwhelming in scope. Two long tracks for FOR FANS OF Hans Zimmer * Nils Frahm * Godspeed You! Black Emperor * Balmorhea * Max Richter * Olafur Arnalds * A Silver Mount Zion * Boards Of Canada

Quickness is the fourth full-length studio album by Bad Brains, originally released by Caroline Records in 1989. At the time of it's release, it was the band's best-selling album and also landed them a featured MTV music video for the opening track, "Soul Craft." This reissue marks the fifth release in the remaster campaign, re-launching the Bad Brains Records label imprint. In coordination with the band, Org Music has overseen the restoration and remastering of the iconic Bad Brains' recordings. The audio was mastered by Dave Gardner at Infrasonic Mastering and pressed at Furnace Record Pressing.

Supergroups existed before Emerson, Lake & Palmer formed in 1970. And, as we all know well, many came after. But few, if any, matched the English trio’s chemistry and its elevated combination of virtuosity, vision, and verve. Having influenced a multitude of followers, ELP’s prowess was obvious from the start. The band’s self-titled debut stands as a towering statement of creative imagination, execution, and discipline more than five decades after its original release.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM LP of Emerson, Lake & Palmer presents the benchmark album in audiophile sound. Clear, dynamic, and balanced, this collectible edition honors the perfectionist approaches that both informed the playing and recording of the record.

Distinguished with black backgrounds, this reissue brings to light the epic scope, tonal depth, and mind-bending degrees of musicianship on display. Aspects — textures, nuances, effects, melodies, tempo changes — that go hand-in-hand with the trio’s compositions and interplay are rendered amid broad soundstages and delivered with pinpoint detail. Whether you’ve owned multiple copies of this touchstone or seeking out your first version, you’ll relish the presence, separation, imaging, and crispness that help make every song come across as if the group has set up shop in your listening space.

Opening the door to the seemingly infinite possibilities of progressive rock while steering clear of excess, Emerson, Lake & Palmer achieved a rare feat in that its complex, cerebral music didn’t prevent it from attaining mainstream success. The gold-certified effort launched the career of a band that would sell tens of millions of records. It also landed a Top 50 single in the form of the ballad “Lucky Man,” whose vocal harmonies, folksy strumming, multi-tracked instrumentation, and breakthrough Moog solo almost feel quaint in the face of the other fare on the album.

Comprised of genre-defying originals and hybrid arrangements of two classical pieces, the album Rolling Stone originally and rightly said is “best heard as a whole” matches outrageous ambition with the otherworldly skills of three musicians who remain among the finest to ever pick up their respective instruments. While Emerson soon drew the lion’s share of headlines for his ability on keys — clavinet, Moog, piano, Hammond organ, and pipe organ included — Greg Lake’s aptitude on guitar and bass, along with well as Carl Palmer’s monster talents behind the kit, created a three-headed hydra that devoured everything in front of it.

That extends to the radical reinterpretation of Bela Bartok’s “The Barbarian” that begins the LP, a performance that in less than four-and-a-half minutes runs the gamut from distorted to churchy to angular and blustery. More classical flourishes, keyboard wizardry, hard-rock heaviness, and gothic signatures emerge throughout “Knife-Edge,” which reimagines music by Leos Janacek and J.S. Bach — and ultimately invites you to explore a cathedral of sound teeming with separate bursts of keys and percussion.

And did someone say “drumming”? Check out Palmer’s monster salvo on “Tank,” a rhythmic showcase that marches out with knee-bent notes and mirror-reflected passages. Or dive into the mythological suite “The Three Fates.” Replete with three parts and Emerson playing the pipe organ at Royal Festival Hall, it shoots off sonic fireworks via sophisticated arpeggios, jazz improvisations, dancing counter-meters, sizzling chords, and a few explosions. Please don’t hold anyone at MoFi responsible if your system cannot handle it; this is heady stuff.

Indeed, everything on Emerson, Lake & Palmer is there for a purpose. Whether you aim to attempt to dissect all of the notes, shifts, and polyrhythmic bluster or just want to absorb this album as one living, breathing organism, this version invites you to do both as many times as you desire.

The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.

The Germany-based band Rikas' new album, "Soundtrack For A Movie That Has Not Been Written Yet," promises to be their most cohesive and contemplative project to date

Comprising 11 brisk yet beautiful tracks, the album showcases the band's tight tempos and mellow delivery. "We started this record just to have fun. It's not been that easy, because so much change has happened," guitarist and keyboardist Sascha Scherer reflects. "We've had to learn to adapt... This record is more inward-looking. We were reflecting. " Scherer further explains, "I think a lot of bands have trouble staying still. When you stop touring and moving to a new city each day, you feel lost. I feel like our new album is capturing that feeling of go, go, go." This feeling of inertia contains layers: there's a sense of restlessness, but also brotherhood and camaraderie-- feelings Rikas aim to depict in each of the album's videos. "For our sophomore album, we wanted to create a very homogeneous one," Scherer continues. "Which was not easy to achieve because we have made the experience that throughout all of our records every song differs from each other. We have four songwriters who happen to be also multi-instrumentalists in our band, and that's why we don't have to put much effort into diverse record making. Instead, we had to put pressure on ourselves to make something consistent. But we also didn't want to make every song sound the same. So the concept of the album lays in its topics."The songs for "Soundtrack For A Movie That Has Not Been Written Yet" were written over the past year, adapting and shaping old snippets and ideas, as well as creating songs completely from scratch. "For some reason, when we started writing and listening back to the songs, they all shared a similar feeling of cruising, traveling, being in motion," Scherer says. "This wasn't intentional at first, but felt more and more suiting as we proceeded with the writing. We found we'd enjoy the songs most while driving in our van, looking out the window, seeing the landscapes passing by. This has something very meditating to itself already, amplified even more by a suiting soundtrack. This is the soundtrack we tried to write. The album in its entirety is supposed to feel warm, hugging, like 'being bedded in cotton.'" For the visual content of the album, the band decided to travel to San Remo, northern Italy, to capture some of the late November sun. "In a way, you could say we tried to film the first part of the movie whose soundtrack we had just written," Scherer concludes. "Soundtrack For A Movie That Has Not Been Written Yet" is a testament to Rikas' ability to adapt and reflect on their journey, offering listeners a meditative and immersive experience that captures the essence of being in motion.

They are sexy, powerful, and subversive! HUMAN TOYS is a raw punk rock duo fronted by fierce female vocals

Poupee Mecanik (vocals, theremin) thrives on playing with female archetypes, bringing a subversive edge to their music, all flavoured with a generous dose of irony.

The addition of guitarist Jon Von, formerly of RIP OFFS, since their previous hit record "Spin To Win" (Topsy- Turvy Records), has revitalised the band with an all- new punk rock sound that lands somewhere between THE RAMONES and THE AVENGERS.

Since their debut album "Excuse My French" (Records Ad Nauseam), HUMAN TOYS has evolved musically into a wild punk rock riot grrrl-style force. Anyone lucky enough to catch one of their electrifying live shows around the globe knows they deliver relentless energy, raw power, and a tough yet seductive attitude. That same fierce energy shines through in their new album "At The Poor Cow", named after a legendary underground punk rock bar in Tokyo. The album features fantastic covers of IGGY POP's "I'm Sick of You", THE NERVES' "When You Find Out", and BOB CENTER's "Lost In The Jungle", alongside addictive and wild HUMAN TOYS originals. This record is a true modern-day punkrock-classic!

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

Bonbon Vodou’s third album (Épopée métèque), created by Oriane Lacaille and JereM Boucris, follows the paths of exile with lush orchestration and lyrics in French, Creole, and Gascon.

The bonbon piment (a spicy Réunionese fritter) is deceptive. Beneath its harmless appearance lies a fiery kick that can jolt you into clarity. Bonbon Vodou operates the same way. While the duo's musical influences sway between the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, a sharp edge cuts through the tenderness of their graceful songs, often carried by the rhythms of maloya. This contrast gives depth to their third album, Épopée métèque, which takes us on journeys of exile—both across land and sea.
Oriane Lacaille is the daughter of accordionist René Lacaille, a key figure in the revival of Réunionese music in the 1970s, who has lived in mainland France for five decades. JereM Boucris’s father, from a Tunisian Jewish family, was 14 when he arrived in France at the end of the colonial protectorate. Their lives are interwoven with these paternal exiles, which they continue to explore and unravel, alongside the broader, universal stories of migrants fleeing poverty, persecution, and war.
The duo is now joined by a vibrant trio—Piment Piment (Juliette Minvielle, Roland Seilhes, and Yann-Lou Bertrand)—bringing a rich orchestration featuring guitars, flutes, brass, roulèr, kayamb, jaw harp… all set to lyrics in French, Creole, and Gascon. Their voices are joined by numerous guests, including Mouss and Hakim, Rosemary Standley, and Bernard Lavilliers. This playful yet poignant album explores themes of life and death—radiant but aware—seemingly echoing Camus: “There is no sun without shadow, and one must know the night.”

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

Hercules & Love Affair music has always been about folding past, present and future together – and never more so than in the latest phase, encapsulated by the track that launches things, “Someone Else is Calling.”

If the song-first, ultra-gothic mind-movie of the last H&LA album In Amber was partly motivated by Andy Butler falling out of love with dance culture, this new body of work – an EP titled Someone Else Is Calling – is an unabashed resurgence of the love affair. A co-production with London underground veteran and inspiration to Butler, Quinn Whalley of Paranoid London and Decius, the lead single is a surging, tactile acid track woven around the vocal of Icelandic icon Hips & Lips aka Elín Ey – who hits that new wave disco sweet spot between Grace Jones and Yazoo era Alison Moyet.

Elín’s lyrics work perfectly with the bodily momentum of the sounds, circling around themes of self-possession and the urge to move on to the next experience, the next sensation: hunger for reality. And this taps into Andy’s feelings on escaping New York and moving to Belgium, discovering that dance culture was anything but the hollowed-out, identikit-festival-lineup conveyor belt he’d feared, and still had plenty of outposts where it was still – as he’d first experience it as a teen – about the hot, sweaty reality of diverse people seeking communion, communication and heightened ways of being in the here and now.

The video, filmed by Tatsumi Milori couldn’t be a better expression of exactly this. A love letter to the strange and glorious party scene of Mexico City, it captures people who are both tapping into the eternal verities of those magical dancefloor communions, and thrilling – against all the odds of oppressive forces – at the sense of possibility in the flow of gender and sexuality in the present moment. It’s powered by innocence and experience as intertwined forces, and it amplifies the heartbeat of the song a thousandfold. There will be more, much more, to follow from the partnership of Andy, Elín and Quinn. It digs deeper still into the decades of dance and other underground cultures that feed into this modern moment – but this shining beacon should give you a pretty good hint.

Someone Else Is Calling will arrive on one of Los Angeles’s most exciting new independent labels and creative hubs, StrataSonic, on December 14. The lead single of the same name, along with the music video directed by Tatsumi Milori, is out now. This marks the first collaboration between Hercules & Love Affair and Stratasonic.

DJ Minx, Boogie Vice & N-You-Up, The People in Fog, and Jabes remix Radio Slave & Kameelah Waheed’s ‘All Rize’ on Rekids

Radio Slave presents the second remix EP for ‘All Rize’, releasing 19th December 2025, a follow-up to his May collaboration with Kameelah Waheed, enlisting DJ Minx, Boogie Vice & N-You-Up, DJ Sodeyama’s The People in Fog alias, and Jabes to reimagine the track. It follows the first remix package, featuring Harry Romero and Samaran in October, which won support from Laurent Garnier, Chloé Caillet, Saoirse, Honey Dijon, and many more.

Detroit’s First Lady of Wax, DJ Minx, follows her appearance at Rekids’ Panorama Bar takeover in August and steps up first. Her remix is a raw, club-ready workout built around a relentless groove and Kameelah Waheed’s commanding vocal mantra, as bleeps and whistles dance across the mix. Linking Cape Town and Southern France, Boogie Vice & N-You-Up follow their 2025 EP on REK’D and deliver a deep cut that slowly builds tension, its organic percussion and warm bassline leading toward a strobe-lit, tripped-out drop.

On the flip of the second ‘All Rize’ remix EP, Japan’s DJ Sodeyama, under his The People in Fog alias, drifts into more hypnotic territory. Lush pads wash over a low-slung beat and bassline, trading the club for the walk to the after-hours by carrying Waheed’s vocal into something surreal and dreamlike. Completing this left-of-centre B-side, Timedance and Kindergarten’s Jabes twists the original into a warped, textural trip with scratching layers and distorted vocal fragments that pierce through a dense atmosphere. If Sodeyama’s version is the dream, Jabes’ is the chaotic counterpart that follows.

Here another Mokum Release on vinyl.