Search:isn t it vol 1

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Just because a planet may be tiny, doesn’t mean it isn’t abundant with life. With the fourth time around its orbit, Tiny Planet vol. 4 is all about teaming up and bonding in synergy; personal and unified collaborations specializing in hi-tech quioxic explorations of electronica. With an all new/all star cast of artists, materializing in four sleek and sexy tracks shaped for outer space indulgence.

When Mani Festo isn't designing the artwork for Club Glow - the collective he forms part of alongside Borai, Denham Audio and LMajor - or running his own imprint "Flightpath", he uses his DJ sets and production to pay homage to the soundsystem-oriented music that made him. A real artist of the moment, the past couple of years have seen Mani Festo get the recognition he deserves, with many citing his prowess in capturing the darkly seductive essence of hardcore's antecedents, creating something at once nostalgic and futuristic.

Those searching for this fine balance will not be disappointed by Pathfinder EP, the next instalment of Basement Trax: a series which focuses on club-fuelled Techno and Electro. "Powertriip" is a full-bodied electro slammer, coloured by the metallic textures of an industrial soundscape. The title track continues with the same high-voltage pressure, this time with hi-hats that give it double-time energy.

The B-side is about computer love: "Big Rooms" is driven by a highly-processed acid melody whilst "Auto Sequence" is a dizzying take on breaks with high-pitched arpeggios and deranged vocal chops that add to the track's eeriness.

Tape

Lucia H. Chung is a Taiwanese experimental artist based in London. She performs and releases music under the alias 'en creux'.

Under this alias, Lucia is interested in the underlying structures of what we call noise and is examining the effects of human interventions into its complex web of tones. Repetition and chance operations are fundamental to Lucia‘s music. It is not built on the dionysian maximalism and symbolic harshness of lots of noise artists; catharsis is not reached via an explosion of sound, but via concentration on sound phenomena and small changes, which, not unlike some minimal disco night your usual mind-altering drone ritual, sucks you in more with every tiny alteration. This music is as intense as it is sensitive.

„The Liberated Mind“, in Lucia‘s own words, „is a sort of split release between two no-input configurations“. For „Wyldside“, she tuned two different feedback mixers with identical routings as close possible, as much as tuning is possible at all on these highly volatile instruments. „The two channels naturally phased in and out from each other. I guess the process was actually akin to Steve Reich's tape techniques on Come Out and It's Gonna Rain. The whole release extrapolated from that point onwards...“ Finding and replicating similar routings/settings on no input mixing desks is the nightmare of every control freak and a task doomed to failure, but in letting go and embracing these failures, patterns emerge. And thanks to Lucia‘s careful work, these patterns become hypnotic as she carves out the essence of each feedback loop, or, as she puts it: „Actually, I did remember the setting for the final track „Earthrise“, but for whatever reasons, I just cannot reproduce the sounds and it's forever lost (at least for this point in time, maybe when the conditions are primed again for the machine, the same sounds will emerge again...). I guess that's really the essences of improvised NIMB setup. Every single sound was the effect of the previous iteration and the cause of the next iteration... (Wait... isn't it just like a Blockchain? Ha!)“

A collection of no-input studio sessions improvised with Mackie 1202-VLZ Pro, TAPCO MIX260FX, MXR Phase 90 and Electro-Harmonix Bad Stone Phase Shifter. All tracks recorded live, no overdubs. Recorded in London in February 2020. Mastered by causeandcondition

Lucia also works as independent curator, producer and broadcaster at Happened. Check out Lucia‘s other albums on Hard Return, Falt and SM-LL.

'Universal Deluge' marks a significant shift for Ethan P. Flynn and is the by-product of an intensely fruitful creative few years. His unique songwriting craft, ear for production, and versatility have already seen him work with a diverse host of familiar names, including David Byrne, Celeste, and Black Country, New Road. He also co-wrote several songs and performed on FKA twigs' hugely acclaimed album 'Magdalene' and most recently collaborated with esteemed experimental producer Vegyn on the single 'Superstition'. Created over a three-year period, 'Universal Deluge' showcases the depth and breadth of Ethan P. Flynn's distinctive, multi-faceted production methods. Building on the success of his debut album B. Sides & Rarities Vol. 1, the Universal Deluge EP plunges into the darker side of experimental pop. Combining electronic experimentation with stripped-back acoustics, it is a further example of the swirling, psychedelic lo-fi masterpieces Flynn conjures. A sound which has seen him described "as great as Bowie, I'm just waiting for the world to see it... he's a legend in the making" by UK rapper Slowthai. Speaking on the newly released single 'Father of Nine', Ethan P. Flynn says "This song is about complex family relationships between people who haven't met each other. It isn't necessarily a love song at all. There's an urge to feel a kind of affinity with your ancestors but a lot of them were probably really terrible people. I was also thinking about how many weddings had to happen in the past for a person to exist- like an incomprehensible amount of weddings led to your birth."

Octahedron Each of the Mars Volta albums that preceded Octahedron had pushed the envelope further, their music growing larger, more intense, more complex.

Each had delivered an implied, unspoken challenge to its makers within milliseconds of its final notes: “top this”. And with each subsequent album, Omar and Cedric had turned their creative dials up one more notch, a further step past “eleven”.

With the addition of new drummer Thomas Pridgen, and their ranks swollen by extra guitarists, more percussion and a sax-player, the intensity of The Mars Volta’s sound had increased. Octahedron, however, would follow The Bedlam In Goliath’s brilliant excesses with a sideways step few were expecting, even though the group had telegraphed their intentions to take this new direction for years.

“This one didn’t have multi-layered sub-texts or any sinister spirits,” says Omar, referencing predecessor Goliath’s traumatic birth. “Octahedron was like an expression of will into reality. Like, ‘This one will be easy, this one will be fun’. Everything had a different process.” “Octahedron was a rebellion,” adds Cedric. “Us saying, ‘This isn’t like anything we’ve done before. This is our “pop” album.’ We’d always promised we’d do a ‘pop’ album.’ This was it.”

It's debut time!

Making his first appearance on wax is Manchester's hottest property, Approach Release. When he isn't creating cross-genre chaos behind the decks, this genial gee mans the tram, so you gotta know he's comfortable at the controls.
In addition to a clean drivers license, the man is in possession of some seriously deep crates and this three-tracker sees him pick out a few obscurities in serious need of some scalpel.

The A side serves up the swooning space disco of 'Krypton Factor', a mid-tempo trip into the mirror ball nebula which pairs sweet female vox and dramatic sax with malfunctioning electronics and chest height bass riffs. File it under set opener, sci-fi frother and future anthem!

Over on the B side, A.R. indulges in a little beatific boogie via 'Coma', an outer national excursion building from bubbling bass and classy keys into the eventual heart-swelling vocal, an arms aloft moment if ever we've heard one.
We've been dropping this anywhere there's a CDJ and are just as happy as you lot to have it on wax. Approach Release makes it three hits out of three on the B2, as a slept-on slice of synth-pop Francais gets a necessary extension and leaves its lame chorus on the cutting room floor. Tune in for taut drum machines, playful melodies and a chic vocal.

100% Drum Fun Guaranteed.

Triumph breeds confidence, and with confidence comes an expansion of ambition, a focus of ability, an emboldening of audacity. De-Loused In The Comatorium had risked everything Omar and Cedric possessed on the wildest of gambits, the most impossible of dreams: making sense of the riot of influences ricocheting about Omar’s head, and memorialising their departed friend Julio Venegas through Cedric’s magical realist roman-a-clef. It Clouds Hill shouldn’t have worked. But it did, and with that fiendish tightrope act successfully accomplished, the duo stretched the wire even further and higher, over a figurative fiery pit peopled with lions, crocodiles, piranha and other sharp-toothed beasts not yet known to man. Because how do you make great art without taking great risks? Frances The Mute was no De-Loused Part Two. For one thing, the band’s configuration had changed, in the most painful way. Shortly before the release of De- Loused, sound manipulator and founder member Jeremy Michael Ward passed away, a wound Omar says the group never recovered from. But even though his inspired fucking- with-the-sonic-parameters is absent from Frances The Mute, his spirit and influence can still be determined, the album’s concept derived from a diary Ward had encountered in his day-job in repossession. “Jeremy picked up lots of interesting stuff when he was a repo man,” remembers Cedric. “Weird things, including this diary, He let us read it a bunch of times. It was by a guy who’d been adopted and was searching to find his real parents. It was very surreal, it didn’t make much sense – the guy might’ve been schizophrenic – but it was very inspiring. It felt like how certain music helps you escape your boring every-day life. The names and scenes in the diary directly inspired these songs.” Some of the tracks pre-dated De-Loused, having their origins in early demos Omar recorded at the duo’s Long Beach home Anikulapo, songs such as The Widow and Miranda The Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. Cedric had heard these jams in their embryonic state and began working in his mind on what he could bring to them. “I was attracted to The Widow like you would be to a lover, right?” Cedric remembers. “I sang over it with Omar while we were touring De-Loused in Australia on the Big Day Out, like, ‘Okay, I’ve got something for this.’” A potent ballad, laden with emotional crescendos and evoking the epic drama of Ennio Morricone – an effect aided by an elegiac trumpet part performed by Flea – The Widow would become The Mars Volta’s first song to chart on the Billboard Top 100, capturing the album’s potent sorrow and widescreen sprawl in miniature. Indeed, the lush sound of the album, the depth of detail and breadth of instrumentation, belies its grungy roots. Having tasted the luxury of Rick Rubin’s mansion, Omar veered in the opposite direction when recording Frances, cutting the album in what he describes as “a shithole... Basically a warehouse with one little air conditioner on its last legs, awful wiring and a console you couldn’t rely on. We were there night and day – I would literally lock engineer Jon DeBaun in there. He slept on a mattress in the vocal booth.” A considerably more complex and ambitious album than its predecessor – four of its five tracks lasted over ten minutes in length, with its closing epic Cassandra Gemini spanning over half an hour – Frances The Mute wasn’t recorded “live” by an ensemble, but with the individual musicians coming into the “shithole” and recording the parts Omar had scripted for them separately. “They had to have absolute trust in me,” Omar remembers, “Like actors trust their director.” In addition to the core band – now fleshed out with incoming bassist Juan Alderete, and Omar’s brother Marcel on keyboards and percussion – the album featured guitar solos from John Frusciante, saxophone and flute by future member Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales, a full string section, and piano played by Omar’s hero, salsa legend Larry Harlow. “It was a childhood dream come true,” Omar says. “We recorded with him in my hometown in Puerto Rico, and my father flew in to watch the session. Larry was a perfect gentleman, and a very lively spirit.” The album’s fevered intensity infected even the staid string section, Cedric remembers. “When they performed the part on Cassandra Gemini, ’25 wives in the lake tonight’, one of the guys in the orchestra played so hard he broke his bow, this real old, antique bow. And you could see his ‘classical’ side come out – like, ‘I broke this playing a fuckin’ rock song??’ He was pissed off. But I was like, ‘Fuck yeah, man, that’s on the record! You’ve got to realise things like that are cool.’” The album also features field recordings of “the coqui of Puerto Rico” during the opening minutes of Miranda That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. “We took a page out of the Grateful Dead’s book there,” laughs Cedric. “They recorded air. We recorded fuckin’ frogs in Puerto Rico.”

After the success of critically acclaimed debut, SOS Music Volume 1 (praised by The Wire - ‘There isn’t a weak link’, RA, Gilles Peterson, Maryann Hobbs, Rough Trade, Love Injection, Mixmag, DJ mag, Basndcamp, Vinyl Factory etc.), the cutting edge Los Angeles electronic label are back with their sophomore release, another explosive compilation comprised of brand new female and female identifying talent.
The release, available on beautiful clear vinyl and digital features 7 of the most exciting emerging names in global dance music; Aura T-09, Closet Yi, Regular Fantasy + Yazzus to name a few. As dance floors open, SOS co-founders Maddy Maia and Tottie wanted to curate something positive, uplifting and reflective of sweaty summer dance floors, whilst retaining the edge that permeated their debut.
The release will be accompanied by an SOS tour North American + Europe at some of the most iconic global clubs - and expect mainly female, female identifying and non-binary artists on the bill.
Though only founded in 2020, SOS Music has been making waves in the independent dance community, and has helped to highlight the global underground dance scene growing rapidly in Los Angeles. The release made end of year lists including Bandcamp’s Best of Electronic and Rough Trade NY compilation of the year. SOS Music also hold a residency on Worldwide Fm, which continues to highlight ground breaking electronic talent with a female focus.

In 2014 The Soul Santas’ first, and only, gig at a
Christmas School Fair was a roaring success, after
which they decided it couldn’t be bettered so didn’t
try. Until, that is, some rehearsal recordings were
found on a phone. These recordings inspired
‘Christmas Crackers, Volume 1’, recorded over two
days in October 2020 at Invada Studios.
 The album was released last winter digitally and is
now available on vinyl for the first time.
 Pressed on green or red vinyl. The colour isn’t
marked on the packaging so the colour received
will be a lucky dip.

Where have you gone, Charles Tolliver? There was such promise in the concept of Music Inc., and in Strata East, but evidently the music world's attention was elsewhere and this tremendous live set was probably heard by only a few hundred sets of ears. On the back of the record sleeve, Tolliver undersigned his mission statement: "Music Inc. was created out of the desire to assemble men able to see the necessity for survival of a heritage and an Art in the hopes that the sacrifices and high level of communication between them will eventually reach every soul." And he isn't kidding. You won't find a much higher level of communication than he, Cecil McBee, Stanley Cowell, and Jimmy Hopps engaged in on May 1, 1970 at Slugs' in New York City. This was much more than an attempt to merely 'preserve acoustic jazz' as in the stilted Marsalis vein. This was an attempt to preserve a measure of authenticity while maintaining the notion of forward-thinking, present-tense improvised music. They deserved a greater response than the lukewarm, sparse applause they received that night, and continue to deserve a far more cognizant audience for their efforts.



Tolliver ('Drought"), McBee ("Felicite"), and Cowell ("Orientale") each contribute a track to the set; though very much distinct, each is equally strong. "Drought" is the kind of dark-hued, well-honed burner which Tolliver routinely produced in his fertile years. "Felicite" is a more contemplative affair, a deeply felt and empathically performed piece; the unit here is in particularly sublime form, merging considerable skill with a staggering depth of emotion. "Orientale" falls somewhere in between the pace of the two, with Cowell's Eastern scales establishing an austere, industrious tone throughout its seventeen-and-a-half-minute length.



Through its duration, the music on Live at Slugs' is often riveting and incessantly compelling. Hopps is a lesser-known entity to me, but the other three players featured here are some of the all-time underrated presences in the jazz pantheon, and they play nothing short of masterfully. Always a presence on his recordings, Tolliver demonstrates tremendous range, flair, and command as a trumpeter and leader. Had he not come along at a time when pure jazz was falling out of favour, I have to believe his name (along with Woody Shaw's) would be every bit as prolific as Freddie Hubbard's or Lee Morgan's; the same holds for the always brilliant and expressive McBee on bass.



I feel saddened that Music Inc. fell so far short of "eventually reaching every soul" - yet fortunate that it eventually reached mine.

If some of these titles look familiar, it’s because they’re among the most majestic roots and culture songs ever recorded, and by singers whose credentials are beyond question. All tracks feature the original artists and even the actual seventies’ vocal in some cases, but the rhythms have been recreated with today’s sound-systems in mind and are heard at their very best when roaring out of giant speaker boxes, greeted by a forest of raisedhands and with a deejay at the mic.

Producers Mafia & Fluxy include reggae legends Bunny “Striker” Lee and Fat Man among their mentors, and their mastery both in the studio and on stage is unrivalled outside of Jamaica. The way these two brothers play dub will make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up whilst the messages in songs like Every Tongue Shall Tell, Declaration Of Rights, No Peace and Fittest Of The Fittest are relevant as ever but then the music on this album isn’t dated, and is reggae, roots and culture for the ages.

La grande vallée (1993/95), 20'41

Musical composition, design and sound production carried out at the INA grm Studios (Paris) in 1993/95

Original audio recordings in the Drôme and the Mont Ventoux areas

Voice: Hélène Bettencourt

Vocal occurrences: Frédéric Malenfer, Bruno Roche, Lionel Marchetti

Bass clarinet (for processing): Jean Andréo

Micro-climat (1989/90), 21'33

Micro-climat is the first movement of the Sirrus cycle (Micro-climat, Passerelle, Sirrus) composed in 1989/90

Musical composition, sound design and production, audio recordings in 1989/90 at the CFMI studios in Lyon (Lumière University, Lyon 2)

"I wonder if my fascination for clouds (without being an obsession) may have risen at the end of the 80s as, whilst composing Micro-climat, I would regularly wander between the Vercors mountains and the high plateaus of the Monts du Forez discovering, through my eyes, body, breath, active observation and walk, that natural forms when constantly changing and yet swollen with a unity of matter (in this instance, water) open one up to a deep, fundamental breath and a clear field for the mind. The sky and its forces: our ally.

A model for a natural music which, although fixed, as in musique concrète (a rule of the genre), moreover on a recording tape, will remain charged with such a poetic quality that (isn't it its role or rather its reality?) it will ensure a perpetual renewal for our senses, so as to reach another idea of the world, far more open and richer than what we could have imagined."

Lionel Marchetti, 2011

Lionel Marchetti is a major figure of the "third generation" of concrète musicians, a term he values. Listening to these works, imbued with poetry and traversed by micro-narratives, one can indeed retrieve the original concrète spirit, the one that draws from the sonic world, with ears wide open, so as to extract a fertile, rich and multiple substance then shaped and conveyed towards a formal and musical abstraction. Lionel Marchetti has mastered this process, but his real distinctive feature is a truly unique talent for setting climates (as one sets traps) and keeping us on constant alert. The two pieces in this record perfectly illustrate the entrancing dimension of Lionel Marchetti's music, whose charm leads us, through each successive listening, to become voluntary captives so as to better liberate ourselves.

François Bonnet, Paris, 2020

LTD. CLEAR VINYL

Repressed in quantity for the first time in years. Includes the hit single "Strange Harvest". Tempers, comprised of Jasmine Golestaneh and Eddie Cooper, have carved out their own niche within dark indie, electronica and synth-pop circles. Their sound is about exploring tonal and emotional tension as much as it is about actual tracks or singular moments. Adrenalizing yet hypnotic landscapes layer mechanical and sensual impulses, as crystalline vocals weave fever dreams of yearning and alienation. Informed by both Golestaneh's involvement in musical performance and visual art and Cooper's electronic production resume, as well as their time in the States and abroad, they operate as a multi-disciplined entity in the spirit and ethos of Factory Records. Tempers describe their creative process as a telepathic kinship they've developed since they started making music together: "We have these sort of unspoken criteria when we're writing music. We never really need to explain what that is but we both know when it's missing or when we've hit it." After a string of critically acclaimed singles beginning in 2013 with "Eyes Wide Wider" b/w "Hell Hotline," the duo released their debut LP "Services" (2015) on cult imprint Aufnahme + Wiedergabe resulting in the underground club hit "Strange Harvest", extensive international touring and sold-out shows. The album's vinyl edition soon became a sought after collectors item. Their 2017 EP "Fundamental Fantasy" was released as a result of the Vinyl Factory's Volcano Extravaganza artist residency on the Aeolian island of Stromboli. Following their unique creative compass, in 2018 they indirectly moved from the dance floor to galleries, releasing "Junkspace" a conceptual collaboration with famed architect Rem Koolhaas. The record is available in the world's most select cultural hotspots, from The New Museum in New York to Walther Konig museum stores throughout Europe, a testament to Tempers' love for experimental output and unorthodox presentation. In 2019 Tempers signed with Dais Records, promptly releasing "Private Life" and the lead single "Capital Pains," a meticulous evolution of the dark pop that marked the duo's earlier output.

Repressed in quantity for the first time in years. Includes the hit single "Strange Harvest". Tempers, comprised of Jasmine Golestaneh and Eddie Cooper, have carved out their own niche within dark indie, electronica and synth-pop circles. Their sound is about exploring tonal and emotional tension as much as it is about actual tracks or singular moments. Adrenalizing yet hypnotic landscapes layer mechanical and sensual impulses, as crystalline vocals weave fever dreams of yearning and alienation. Informed by both Golestaneh's involvement in musical performance and visual art and Cooper's electronic production resume, as well as their time in the States and abroad, they operate as a multi-disciplined entity in the spirit and ethos of Factory Records. Tempers describe their creative process as a telepathic kinship they've developed since they started making music together: "We have these sort of unspoken criteria when we're writing music. We never really need to explain what that is but we both know when it's missing or when we've hit it." After a string of critically acclaimed singles beginning in 2013 with "Eyes Wide Wider" b/w "Hell Hotline," the duo released their debut LP "Services" (2015) on cult imprint Aufnahme + Wiedergabe resulting in the underground club hit "Strange Harvest", extensive international touring and sold-out shows. The album's vinyl edition soon became a sought after collectors item. Their 2017 EP "Fundamental Fantasy" was released as a result of the Vinyl Factory's Volcano Extravaganza artist residency on the Aeolian island of Stromboli. Following their unique creative compass, in 2018 they indirectly moved from the dance floor to galleries, releasing "Junkspace" a conceptual collaboration with famed architect Rem Koolhaas. The record is available in the world's most select cultural hotspots, from The New Museum in New York to Walther Konig museum stores throughout Europe, a testament to Tempers' love for experimental output and unorthodox presentation. In 2019 Tempers signed with Dais Records, promptly releasing "Private Life" and the lead single "Capital Pains," a meticulous evolution of the dark pop that marked the duo's earlier output.

Composed, produced, and arranged by Eartheater alone, Phoenix: Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin draws a path back to the primordial lava lake from which she first emerged, as it also testifies to the reincarnating resurrections the project has undergone over its first full decade of existence. While the album renews her focus on guitar performance and legible structure, Eartheater balances the unabashed prettiness of acoustic harmonic songs with the dissonant gestural embroidery of oblique instrumentals. Having fallen back in love with the idioms that first captivated her, she worked to crack open the techniques that had fossilized inside of her, while still seeking to apply the electro-alchemical knowledge she picked up along her journey. The result of a laborious revival in fire, Phoenix recontextualizes Eartheater’s combinatorial approach to production within her most confident abstractions, adjacent to some of her most direct songs to date.

Eartheater composed and workshopped most of Phoenix over a ten-week artist residency (FUGA) in Zaragoza, Spain, housed in a sprawling, cubic glass facility that looked out over wildflower-flecked mountains. Following an intensive period of recording and touring, the residency provided her with an unprecedented period of solitude in the small Spanish town. Her newfound sense of isolation ultimately became liberating, leading her to sidestep the crutches and steady grids inherent to electronic music, and to conceive pieces rooted in her guitar and her desire to perform with other players live.

Eartheater’s voice glows brighter than ever at the center of Phoenix’s arrangements — her familiar operatic highs are grounded by newly expanded velvety lows, leaping lucidly up and down octaves. Her intricate guitar work flits across baroque fingerpicked passages and latches into cyclical figures that meet her voice in lush harmonic progressions. From her own guitar parts, to the orchestral string arrangements she wrote for the Spanish conservatory group Ensemble de Camara, to the harp and violin lines performed by her close friends and collaborators Marilu Donovan and Adam Markiewicz of LEYA, Eartheater’s applications of acoustic instruments bring an extraordinary emotional emphasis to her compositions. Phoenix prepares for a future where electronic sound — or even electricity itself — isn’t guaranteed, but where her music could still come to life with a group of hands dexterously winding across instruments against the light of the fire. Eartheater drew inspiration for Phoenix from geological imagery, whose turbulence and potential for genesis mirror the trajectory of her own life and relationships. The album’s instrumental pieces directly reference these moments of upheaval, colliding audio of volcano and lightning storms with resplendent string and vocal arrangements. “Volcano” looks out over the album from its peak at the center, its tectonic plates colliding in towering melodies and layers of vocal harmonies, as piano accents crest and cascade down the mountainside. When Eartheater sings, “I’m still building mountains underground,” she is trying to reconcile the pinnacles of her ambition with the comforts of a simple existence buried beneath the surface. “Diamond in the Bedrock” finds her admiring the gemstone forming under intense pressure inside her, but rejecting the romantic promise that the diamond signifies, choosing instead to escape a relationship that has come to stifle her.

With the album’s subtitle, Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin, Eartheater imagines being tempered to a state of perfect equilibrium, suspended between melting and freezing, where fire could streak across her body and appear as a crystalline blush. This image captures the tension at the heart of the Eartheater project, as she decides how best to distill her passion and render it cool to the touch; to find beauty in simple pleasure, while keeping one eye fixed on the peaks that loom in the horizon. The album is mixed by Kiri Stensby and mastered by Heba Kadry, featuring photography by Daniel Sannwald.

From 1963 to 2014: "Peace Chant - raw deep and spiritual jazz" exhibits 51 years of music. A well matched anthology with sounds to dive into, hard rhythms to dance to and vocals to meditate on.

The Tramp Records crew has compiled 8 tracks in nice order and dramaturgy. Some tunes you might have never heard before unless you own one of the rare original vintage vinyl records. Peace Chant is released on two separate LPs with own catalogue numbers and on one CD. Some songs I can't get out of my mind.

These days Mabon Dawud Quintet from Ethiopia is on the trail of Mulatu Astatke. Tramp Records provides the first release of "Abeba" - a funky and stoic track in Amharic mother tongue sung by a high male lamenting voice.

Even more haunting is "Ain't Gonna Wait Too Long" by Thomas Meloncon. The self-taught guitar player recorded this protest song at the age of 20. Voice, guitar, congas and double bass are plenty enough for a heavily pushing song complaining that black man's slavery isn't gone after 400 years. Artist, poet and civil right activist Meloncon (alias Muntu Mwaminifu) wrote and directed theatre and radio plays. His works are collected at Texas Southern University in Houston. "Ain't gonna wait too long" probably is his earliest artistic outing, he just had left school in 1968.

The compilation concludes with a song by Now, a band no one outside Munich might know. "Easy Tune for Dancing" can be found on a record of cultural and concert location Feierwerk form 1990. It really was a surprise to hear the quintet of trumpeter Konstantin Kern and Klaus Pfister on sax playing Afro-Cuban jazz that easily and nonchalant. If Dizzy Gillespie turned up with his bent trumpet and Lalo Schifrin sat in like he did on "Gillespiana Suite" I wouldn't be astonished!

Something is stirring in downtown Tucson. That's no great surprise perhaps: Calexico have been sending out missives from the desert for 20 years now, Giant Sand for even longer than that, and the Green on Red revival is surely overdue. Let us remind ourselves that this isn't a big city in the American sense, but that its hinterland is indeed as big as it gets. For an hour south, Mexico starts. And this is where things get interesting.

Born in Nogales, Arizona, raised in Nogales, Sonora, multi-instrumentalist and band-leader Sergio Mendoza grew up listening to the Mexican regional styles jostling for headspace in a young, music-mad mind - cumbia mainly, but mambo, rancheras and mariachi too. The border is always a fierce arena of exchange, both commercial and cultural, and so there was American music too. At one point 'rock and roll, the classics', as Mendoza himself deadpans, seemed to win out and he stopped playing those 'Latin styles' for a good decade and a half.

The return to those sounds was a strong one in 2012's Mambo Mexicano, co-produced by Mendoza and Joey Burns of Calexico - a band for which Mendoza has become an increasingly integral touring and recording member. While that record had a studied air, tentative in parts (as befits the renewal of an old love affair), ¡Vamos A Guarachar! is another beast entirely: by turns raucous ('Cumbia Volcadora', featuring Mexican electronic pioneer Camilo Lara), tender ('Misterio', surely Salvador Duran's finest moment with the band so far) and plain serious fun, as in 'Contra La Marea' and 'Mapache', it also bears a robust electronic edge, a keen pop sensibility and all the hallmarks of Mendoza's love of 60s rock, with the closing track, 'Shadows of the Mind', sure to be included if anyone decides to update the Nuggets collection for the 21st century. This is roundabout way of saying that it appears to have everything, but never too much of anything. Focused, fierce and beautifully executed by a superbly drilled set of musicians, it is a record that fully matches the band's explosive live performances.

You could, of course, take the trip to Tucson yourself, to the home of this essential set of field recordings. The scene hangs out together, so ... if the stars align and their frantic tour schedules permit, you might see any number of folks from Calexico, Giant Sand or up-and-coming cumbia rockers Xixa deep in conversation somewhere in town with a quiet young man in black. That's Sergio. Right now, in this endless game of Tucson tag, Orkesta Mendoza are IT.

With their debut, MME dUO send us across an impulsive sound collage omniverse of enigmatic Dada - long live imperfection! Formerly working together as Sculptress of Sound, Cologne based Patricia Koellges and Tamara Lorenz make use of a variety of instruments and devices: DIY electroacoustics, small synths, loopers, tuning forks, electric bass, percussion and voice are thrown into the game and shape a sound that’s as diverse as it is striking. The four sides of the record are the four seasons of the year. The cover artwork depicts an oddly shaped honey locust situated just outside MME dUO’s rehearsal room; homebase for a year of recordings for awholerunboom. From spring to winter the album opens up a wayward palette of experimental music. Sweet Cold Night could be a soundtrack for a movie scene of ourselves trudging through a swamp. CutCut somehow sounds as if caught in a loop early in the morning after an extensive club night. RZCK, a deliberately stumbling forward percussion piece is the longest of the 21 tracks. Several video clips go along with awholerunboom, one of which features the artists going through some kind of a ritual exercise inside of a two person costume, trying to put things straight it seems. The track itself Isn’t It Isn’t functions by way of permutations of spoken phrases and it might actually make you wonder if Gertrude Stein had gone electric. Mixed and mastered by Volker Hennes. Cover artwork by MME dUO. Edition of 300.

New LP from French beat-makers La Fine Equipe featuring Illa J, T3, 20Syl, Mr J Medeiros, Georgia Anne Muldrow, Fakear ...

Let's be clear: La Fine Equipe is a band. The numerous hats wore by its four members are so various that it could mislead one's. Indeed, surrounding Blanka, oOgo, Chomsky and Mr. Gib, there are recording studios, collaborations, lives, side-projects... There is also and especially a whole universe built during the past ten years around their passion for beatmaking, embodied by the release of « 5th Season », new album.
So yes, La Fine Equipe is a band, but it's also much more than that.

Since their creation in 2006 and their first album « La Boulangerie » two years later, the four producers became inevitable when you think about a new scene breaking the barriers between musical genders. Hip Hop is at the heart of their craft, corner stone of their musical background and inspirations where the paths of J Dilla, Madlib, Flying Lotus, Kaytranada and the turntablists A-Trak, C2C and Birdy Nam Nam are crossing ways. Two things gather La Fine Equipe and those big names, the constant need of collaboration with other artists, and this thirst of discovery, main feature of the digger.

From 2008 to 2014, La Fine Equipe mastered its craft with the « Boulangerie », compilation gathering 34 beatmakers on 113 tracks. They also work on the creation of the label Nowadays Records (Fakear, Skence, Unno, Clément Bazin, Leska, Douchka...) and released more than 75 EPs and LPs in five years.
With an outrageous number of shows across the world, tour in Asia, South America, collaborations with several international artists... Their success changed the game: Whereas many producers coming from this environment where isolated, La Fine Equipe federated a growing scene and became its reference.
After years spent paving the way for other artists and creating a structure that could support the growth of a musical scene, they decided to go further and launch a new era with « 5th Season ».

Because the band works with eight hands and four brains, there's nothing surprising in the fact that the album sounds like a condensed of each and everyone inspirations and experiences, from hip hop and sampling, to electronica, jazz and Latinas inspirations. If homogeneity is the new trend, La Fine Equipe isn't ready to sacrifice its wishes to fit the mould.

« 5th Season » is also a glance at the world looking over our planet's current state, the cosmos, the vegetal and these things that are greater and stronger than us, and the things and behaviour that could led to our loss.
It's an almost apocalyptic vision of our future, but full of optimism at the same time. There is something solar and cinematographic in this album, a format that goes beyond the one chosen before, closer to playlist and compilations such as the three Boulangerie opuses remind us.

Loyal to their status of ambassadors, the four beatmakers keep on inviting other artists to complete their universe. Illa J and T3, respectively brother and partner (Slum Village) of the late J. Dilla, make the connection between a glorious past and the future embodied by La Fine Equipe on the track « The Source ». With « Aurora », it's the solemn and mystical voice of Madjo that take this electro-pop track to another level. The American rapper Mr. J. Medeiros on the boom bap anthem « What Eva », the Montrealer ZeFire on « Typical », each and every artists brings its stone to the edifice of « 5th Season », giving to the album a limitless and freed musical richness.

But to release an album isn't enough. In parallel, each member of La Fine Equipe continues to fulfil its multiples tasks and work on a new concept live show bringing a scenic and visual show in addition to their music. It is what the artists looking toward the future do, and La Fine Equipe is looking straight ahead.

_________________________________________________________________________

TRACK BY TRACK

AURORA (Ft. Madjo)
Already remixed by the quatuor on the beautiful track « Choose The Heart », it's Madjo's turn to be invited by La Fine Equipe for a collaboration. Her mystical voice, which fragility paradoxically seems to strengthen its power, turns the track into an epic pop anthem.

NOBU (Ft. Grems & 20syl)
The association of these three names seems obvious, like a family reunion. Grems did the visual of the anniversary box of La Boulangerie, 20syl (C2C, Hocus Pocus) was one of the beatmakers who took part in the project.
This time, the two big brothers are side by side behind the mic, for the first French speaking collaboration of La Fine Equipe.
On this trapy/footwork beat, the two rappers ring the alarm before it's too late to save our house, the earth.

THE SOURCE (Ft. T3 & Illa J)
In the family of Hip Hop jewels of 5th Season, here is one coming from the USA. Fans of J Dilla and Slum Village since the first hour, La Fine Equipe pays its respects to its influences by inviting T3 and Illa J. Respectively member of Slum Village and brother of the legendary Detroit producer, these two MCs build a bridge between the eras and let their sharpened flows confuse our perception of time.

5TH SEASON (Ft. Fakear)
A second collaboration with their little brother from the Nowadays Family, Fakear. Eponymous title, it represents the universe of both entities, true road trip through Fakearians melodies and La Fine Equipe's funk declined in five seasons.

TYPICAL BOY (Ft. ZeFire)
With « Typical Boy », La Fine Equipe express its love for House music with chopped rhythms and a heavy but swaying bass line. The freed track oscillate between power and lightness. A beat that quickly becomes ZeFire's playground. The Montreal singer, already heard on Her's tracks, brings a missing r'n'b touch to create the perfect chemistry.