Buscar:it electronics

Still on and about after years of the most intense crate digging, gem mining, desperate head-scratching and avid schooling, thirsty as ever for the next musical thrill to wrap our ears and brains around, here comes the fruit of our life-long love story with Japanese electronics, Denshi Ongaku No Bigaku Vol. 1 and Vol.2. From the soul-fulfilling first crush felt upon hearing the iconic soundtrack of ‘Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence’ by Ryuichi Sakamoto onto our release of Inner Science ‘Cosmo Tracks’, through the life-affirming sets of Laurent Garnier at Dijon’s seminal club, l’An-fer, which have at all times nurtured and expanded our taste for Easternmost delicacies, the influence of Japanese music on our vision and endeavours was paramount to the development of our catalogue, whether directly or indirectly.

This first volume gets the ball rolling with a fine assortment of mostly ambient, electronica and deep house-focussed joints. Draped in organic membranes and ASMR-like synth tapestries, K. Inoue’s nu-agey opener ‘Em Paz’ takes us on a ride across the most serene dreamscapes. Jazzing up these lush and oneiric coastal vibes, Gabby & Lopez ‘Drive form the Miracle’ merges a sense of Californian psychedelia with a straight out hard-bop swing. No stranger to our catalogue, Inner Science returns to serve up a crystalline slice of laid-back house on a mystique-imbued tip he holds the secret to. Flip it over and here comes Aquarium with the splendidly immersive ‘Rainy Night in Shibuya’, which very much feels like wandering amidst its neon-upholstered streets and swarming hallways in a bubble of your own.

Naohito Uchiyama treats us to a synth-drenched nocturnal ballad with the ‘80s-inflected vibes of ’Shugetsu’, whereas Keta Ra cuts a path of ethereal sublimation via the mischievously fun and bouncy balearic lounge of ‘equals’. Masterly crafted by Yuu Udagawa, ‘Infinite Possibility’ eases us in a realm where weightless pop and low-slung abstract hip-hop combine to further exhilarating effect. All in harp-driven brittleness and velveteen sub-bass stealth, Noah ‘Gemini - Mysterious Lot’ has us drifting to a lavishly orchestrated headspace, laying down an impressive work on textures and arrangements. All in on the sedated drip-tease flex, Sauce81 ’Sign of Secret Love’ is a blast of freaky hedonism, just as ready to cast its hypnotic spell down the sweatbox as it was upon its original release ten years ago.

Languid jacking house tune ’Tai+Dai’ from Keita Sano blows the winds of discoid luvin’ across the room with its impeccable balance of sharp, glimmering synthwork and driving bass onslaughts from the depths. An odd slice of reshuffled folk music, Waltz ‘Folkesta’ makes for some eerie invitation of sorts, enchanting and spookily haunting in equal measure. Back to a fevered, hip-swaying mindset, Kuniyuki hi-NRG jazz number ‘Free’ is an absolute wonder of piano and drums-driven boogie, cut from the same cloth as some of Blue Note’s finest Cuban jazz classics. Rounding off the package, Japanese legend Ken Ishii’s version of Larry Heard’s house Hall-of-Famer ‘Can You Feel It’ is pure bliss in a can, tailored to turn any crowd into a shapeless cloud of balmy euphoria and universal love, whatever the place or time.

Still on and about after years of the most intense crate digging, gem mining, desperate head-scratching and avid schooling, thirsty as ever for the next musical thrill to wrap our ears and brains around, here comes the fruit of our life-long love story with Japanese electronics, Denshi Ongaku No Bigaku Vol. 1 and Vol.2. From the soul-fulfilling first crush felt upon hearing the iconic soundtrack of ‘Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence’ by Ryuichi Sakamoto onto our release of Inner Science ‘Cosmo Tracks’, through the life-affirming sets of Laurent Garnier at Dijon’s seminal club, l’An-fer, which have at all times nurtured and expanded our taste for Easternmost delicacies, the influence of Japanese music on our vision and endeavours was paramount to the development of our catalogue, whether directly or indirectly.

This first volume gets the ball rolling with a fine assortment of mostly ambient, electronica and deep house-focussed joints. Draped in organic membranes and ASMR-like synth tapestries, K. Inoue’s nu-agey opener ‘Em Paz’ takes us on a ride across the most serene dreamscapes. Jazzing up these lush and oneiric coastal vibes, Gabby & Lopez ‘Drive form the Miracle’ merges a sense of Californian psychedelia with a straight out hard-bop swing. No stranger to our catalogue, Inner Science returns to serve up a crystalline slice of laid-back house on a mystique-imbued tip he holds the secret to. Flip it over and here comes Aquarium with the splendidly immersive ‘Rainy Night in Shibuya’, which very much feels like wandering amidst its neon-upholstered streets and swarming hallways in a bubble of your own.

Naohito Uchiyama treats us to a synth-drenched nocturnal ballad with the ‘80s-inflected vibes of ’Shugetsu’, whereas Keta Ra cuts a path of ethereal sublimation via the mischievously fun and bouncy balearic lounge of ‘equals’. Masterly crafted by Yuu Udagawa, ‘Infinite Possibility’ eases us in a realm where weightless pop and low-slung abstract hip-hop combine to further exhilarating effect. All in harp-driven brittleness and velveteen sub-bass stealth, Noah ‘Gemini - Mysterious Lot’ has us drifting to a lavishly orchestrated headspace, laying down an impressive work on textures and arrangements. All in on the sedated drip-tease flex, Sauce81 ’Sign of Secret Love’ is a blast of freaky hedonism, just as ready to cast its hypnotic spell down the sweatbox as it was upon its original release ten years ago.

Languid jacking house tune ’Tai+Dai’ from Keita Sano blows the winds of discoid luvin’ across the room with its impeccable balance of sharp, glimmering synthwork and driving bass onslaughts from the depths. An odd slice of reshuffled folk music, Waltz ‘Folkesta’ makes for some eerie invitation of sorts, enchanting and spookily haunting in equal measure. Back to a fevered, hip-swaying mindset, Kuniyuki hi-NRG jazz number ‘Free’ is an absolute wonder of piano and drums-driven boogie, cut from the same cloth as some of Blue Note’s finest Cuban jazz classics. Rounding off the package, Japanese legend Ken Ishii’s version of Larry Heard’s house Hall-of-Famer ‘Can You Feel It’ is pure bliss in a can, tailored to turn any crowd into a shapeless cloud of balmy euphoria and universal love, whatever the place or time.

The early days of "Baltimore Club Music" saw it played at popular venues like Club Fantasy, The Ozone, Hammerjack's, and Paradox. DJs Sean Marshall, Marc Henry, Shawn Caesar (at DJs Outlet in Old Towne Mall), Scottie B and Danny Class (at Inner City Records), Technics (at Music Liberated), DJ Patrick (at Sound of Baltimore), and Diamond K and Kenny B (at Electronics & More) all contributed to the mix of hip-hop, house music and homemade beats that made up this new sound. "Booty Mission" (1992) is a creation of Shawn Caesar and Ty "Flex" James and is considered one of the most influential releases, an essential for any Baltimore Club Music fan. It is sure to remain timeless.

Michael Mayer’s IMARA imprint is proud to announce a reissue of German electronica maestro Schlammpeitziger’s second album, Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut. Originally released in 1996 by Köln’s A-Musik label, it was the first Schlammpeitziger release to signal to a much wider audience that there was something very special going on in the music of Jo Zimmermann, the mastermind behind Schlammpeitziger. And while he’s subsequently gone on to release a further eight albums for labels like Sonig, Pingipung, and Bureau B, Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut is where it really all started for this most singular musician, illustrator and performance artist. Named after the ‘Schlammpeitzger’ or Weather Loach, a fish that breathes through its intestines, moves through substrate, and is surprisingly sensitive to changes in barometric pressure – hence its name – Schlammpeitziger is a similarly remarkable, singular creature.

Like all Schlammpeitziger’s music, Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut is overflowing with melody. Using the simplest of set-ups – much of his early music was made with Casio keyboards – Zimmermann magics entire worlds of joy and melancholy. The nine songs here are both rich tributes to the joys of the everyday, and surreal fantasias. “Cosmic Fick” sails out to sea on clouds of taffy and spindrift; “Winterschlafsüßbärentraum” slips and slides around a dream aviary of the mind; the closing “Mango und Papaja auf Tobago” is a diorama spun from springs and Slinkys. Sometimes there are echoes of more peaceable Kosmische music – think Cluster circa Sowiesoso – and both the pacing and the amorphous, tactile textures sometimes recall Chris & Cosey. But Zimmermann’s unique signature is everywhere on Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut – simply put, no one else makes music quite as lovely and incandescent as this.

The album’s initial release coincided with an explosion of interest in the music coming out of Köln. This was a unique moment – one where pop, techno, house, ambience, avant-gardism, musique concrete, heavy DSP, and all kinds of other creative phenomena got muddied up in the ‘general jelly’ of Köln’s fast-moving, spirited musical communities. Zimmermann was closely aligned with the music coming out of the A-Musik and Sonig labels – a tightly-knit collection of artists centred around the A-Musik record store, making all kinds of weird and wonderful music, from the electronica of Mouse On Mars to the compositions of Marcus Schmickler, from the electro-acoustics of C-Schulz and Hajsch to the digitalia of FX Randomiz. Zimmermann himself would collaborate with the latter on an album under the name Holosud; friends such as Mouse On Mars and Kompakt’s Reinhard Voigt turned up on Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut’s remix EP.

Here, then, is one of the loveliest albums of its era, a pop-electronics album of serious play, one as moistly melancholy as it is melodically riveting. Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut is rare beauty indeed.

Michael Mayers Label IMARA ist stolz darauf, eine Neuauflage des zweiten Albums des deutschen Electronica-Maestros Schlammpeitziger, “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut”, bekannt zu geben. Ursprünglich 1996 vom Kölner Label A-Musik veröffentlicht, war es die erste Veröffentlichung von Schlammpeitziger, die einem viel breiteren Publikum signalisierte, dass in der Musik von Jo Zimmermann, dem Mastermind hinter Schlammpeitziger, etwas ganz Besonderes vor sich ging. Obwohl er seitdem weitere acht Alben für Labels wie Sonig, Pingipung und Bureau B veröffentlicht hat, ist “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” der Ort, an dem alles für diesen einzigartigen Musiker, Illustrator und Performance-Künstler begann. Schlammpeitziger, benannt nach dem “Schlammpeitzger” oder Wetterbarsch, einem Fisch, der durch seine Därme atmet, sich durch den Untergrund bewegt und erstaunlich empfindlich auf Veränderungen im Luftdruck reagiert – daher der Name – ist ebenfalls eine bemerkenswerte, einzigartige Kreatur.

Wie alle Musik von Schlammpeitziger ist auch “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” voller Melodien. Mit einfachsten Mitteln – ein Großteil seiner frühen Musik wurde mit Casio-Keyboards gemacht – zaubert Zimmermann ganze Welten voller Freude und Melancholie. Die neun Songs hier sind sowohl reiche Hommagen an die Freuden des Alltags als auch surreale Fantasien. “Cosmic Fick” segelt auf Wolken aus Karamell und Gischt hinaus aufs Meer; “Winterschlafsüßbärentraum” schlittert und gleitet durch einen Traum-Vogelkäfig im Geist; das abschließende “Mango und Papaja auf Tobago” ist ein Diorama aus Federn und Slinkys. Manchmal gibt es Echos von friedlicherer Kosmischer Musik – denke an Cluster circa “Sowiesoso” – und sowohl das Tempo als auch die amorphen, taktilen Texturen erinnern manchmal an Chris & Cosey. Aber Zimmermanns einzigartige Signatur ist überall auf “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” zu hören – ganz einfach, niemand sonst macht Musik so lieblich und leuchtend wie er.

Die ursprüngliche Veröffentlichung des Albums fiel mit einem Aufschwung des Interesses an der Musik aus Köln zusammen. Dies war ein einzigartiger Moment – einer, in dem Pop, Techno, House, Ambient, Avantgardismus, Musique Concrete, Heavy DSP und allerlei andere kreative Phänomene sich in der “Allgemeinen Gelee” der schnelllebigen, lebendigen musikalischen Gemeinschaften von Köln vermischten. Zimmermann stand in enger Verbindung mit der Musik der Labels A-Musik und Sonig – eine eng verbundene Gruppe von Künstlern rund um das A-Musik-Plattengeschäft, die alle möglichen seltsamen und wundervollen Musikrichtungen produzierten, von der Electronica von Mouse On Mars bis zu den Kompositionen von Marcus Schmickler, von der Elektroakustik von C-Schulz und Hajsch bis zur Digitalia von FX Randomiz. Zimmermann selbst würde mit letzterem an einem Album unter dem Namen Holosud zusammenarbeiten; Freunde wie Mouse On Mars und Reinhard Voigt von Kompakt tauchten in der Remix-EP von “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” auf.

Hier also eines der schönsten Alben seiner Zeit, ein Pop-Electronics-Album voller ernsthaftem Spiel, so feucht melancholisch wie melodisch fesselnd. “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” ist wahrlich eine seltene Schönheit.

The debut album from Winnipeg psychedelic jazz-funk collective Apollo Suns, 'Departures' (Do Right! Music), finds the band evolving across new styles and moods, encompassing the shifting tides of the pandemic years.

Produced by Juno award-winning producer Ben Kaplan (Bootsy Collins, Five Alarm Funk), Departures is a cinematic journey inspired as much by artists like Goblin, Lettuce, and Frank Zappa as film, TV and video game scores and soundtracks. The band combines classic compositional techniques with synths and electronics, showcasing genre-melding finesse. Introducing strings, acoustic guitar, grand piano, and lap steel into the mix, Apollo Suns explore the visceral and heavy, the elegant and ethereal, epic house rock to New Orleans-y brass, proggy pathways, string-backed balladry, greasy funk and beyond.

"It's been a heavy couple of years. We wanted to make an album that summed it all up," says bandleader Ed Durocher. "I always kind of think of music as the different parts of life. Sometimes it's aggressive, sometimes it's fun and loose, and sometimes it's sad and hard. So, since we don't have vocals, a lot of these songs try to convey those experiences through sound."

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output. Following our release of Courts Or Wars, combining their early material, we are proud to reissue their only full length album, World Of Rubber.

Fueled by experimentation in both song construction and recording techniques, the duo leave you enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Indeed, the goal had been to make each album a concept album, with this to be titled: Second Layer’s World Of Rubber. Alas, this was to be the first and last of those efforts. New detailed liner notes from Graham Bailey shed considerable light on the creation of this cold classic and its immediate aftermath.

Bailey’s inventive construction and deconstruction of various electronics, effects boxes and tape loops form the propulsive base for these songs. Borland’s guitar playing is jagged and unleashed. Above it all is an undeniable sense of melody and Adrian’s distinctive vocals. Soon, they would wonder where Second Layer ended and The Sound began, but World Of Rubber would stand as a document of this fertile period. It would also be a lasting testament to their desire to push the boundaries of their creativity. Dark and brooding the result is what Bandcamp described as “brutally bleak, blank-eyed post-punk that remains chillingly compelling.”

Much coveted in certain collector circles, this release offers 4 tracks originally recorded in 1985 by, at the time, high school starlet Paola Belloni. All tracks are sung in Italian and consistently easy to appreciate but "Vattene" and "Un Uomo Semplice" steal the show with remarkable downtempo smoothness gliding in the lower BPM ranges. Although many studios at the time would have already standardized more synthetic sounds brought by widespread access to electronics in the mid 80's, these recordings offer a more organic and warm sounding instrumentation - one solid round aural aperitivos. Officially re-issued with original artwork and re-mastered at Manmade mastering in Berlin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

For their fourth album, »Bear In Town«, indie avant-pop supergroup Spirit Fest made a virtue of distance, with group members split across Europe, and recording sessions taking place after a brief 2021 tour of Europe. It’s an object lesson in perseverance and commitment, as the music here is some of Spirit Fest’s most moving yet. The six songs on this album illuminate different aspects of the transnational quintet’s character – lovely, heart-rending pop songs; melancholy chants; the joys of simple repetition – with the group’s guitar pop tended by gentle flourishes of piano and electronics.

Some of those flourishes were spirited onto »Bear In Town« across the waves, with Mat Fowler (Bons, Jam Money) contributing from Britain, while the body of the music was recorded in a small apartment studio in Munich by the other members of Spirit Fest: Saya and Ueno (Tenniscoats), Markus Acher (The Notwist) and Cico Beck (Joasinho, Aloa Input). »Bear In Town« is concise and powerful, the infectious joy of the spirit communicated, beautifully, by melodies that balance the heartfelt with the melancholy. Reflecting on those sessions, Acher says, »I think the album captures how well we played together at that time.« It’s all the more impressive given this material was put down live in the studio, with a few vocal overdubs. The depth of feeling at the core of Spirit Fest’s music is evident from the opening notes of »Bear In Town«.

»Kou-Kou Land«, the first song on the album, recalls several earlier Tenniscoats songs, like »Baibaba Bimba«, in the way the musicians weave gentle complexity around a simple, repeated chant; the stop-start structure of »Kou-Kou Land« builds anticipation, while Saya’s simple melody is lovely, delivered in an absent-minded hum that’s deeply affecting. »Lost & Found« revolves around a delightful descending chord change that breaks up the swaying, folksy verses, gorgeous electronic whirrs and purring winds floating through the song. The following »In Our House« possesses such sweet sadness, it’s one of Spirit Fest’s most moving songs yet.

»Like A Plane« repurposes a song that Markus Acher originally wrote and recorded for his solo EP of the same title, released on a 2022 10-inch single on Morr Music. The original was a gentle, introverted lament, but the version on »Bear In Town« has a widescreen tenderness, its melancholy framed by raindrop piano. The album concludes with two moments of playful splendour, the bossa-inflected »Hill Blo«, and the driving title track, both led by Saya, who is in stunning voice on this album; on »Bear In Town«, her awestruck wonder perfectly captures the sense of possibility in the song’s capacious chords. Like the rest of the album, it’s full of kindness, rich with psych-pop splendour… a balm for troubled times.

Stomu Yamash'ta's ultra-rare cult 1971 LP is reissued for the first time, it is a deep, cosmic, at time ambient performance recorded live and
featuring two other Japanese legends: Takehisa Kosugi from the TajMahal Travellers and jazz pianist Masahiko Satoh

Remastered from the master tapes with original gatefold artwork, obi and newintroduction by Paul Bowler. Recorded live at Yamaha Hall in Tokyo on April 18, 1971, the all- night concert was recorded in front of an invite- only audience consisting of friends and musicians. Yamash'ta had Satoh on keyboards along with Fluxus master and leader of the Taj Mahal Travellers Takehisa Kosugi on violin and Hideakira Sakurai on electric shamisen.

Edited down to fit two sides of an album that will become 'Sunrise From West
Sea', the performance is both hypnotic and ethereal. It starts with Kosugi's
distinctive electric violin and develops into a deep, spiritual free form
conversation between the four musicians, giving them all the space, they need to
freely improvise and interact with each other, mixing electronics, percussion,
electric organ and shamizen without ever clashing. The interaction alternates
between quiet, tranquil Eastern meditations and more paced parts, fuelled by
Yamash'ta's extraordinary percussion playing.
Yamash'ta never reached the creativity heard in 'Sunrise From West Sea' again.
The album was recorded during one of the most fertile periods in Japan where
such groups as Les Rallizes Denudes and Taj Mahal Travellers and jazz
musicians like Masahiko Satoh and Yamash'ta were revolutionising the Japanese
music scene.

Here comes Emotional Rescue and Konduko's last in their series of Noel Williams/King Sporty reissues, this time looking at later electro productions and the hip-hop/boogie influenced 'Sun Country'. Vocals and co-production come from Williams' long-time partner Betty Wright and as well as a vocal and instrumental mix there's a longform remix by Bay Area disco dub stalwarts, 40 Thieves.

By this point in his career, the godfather of Miami Bass had travelled a long way from his Jamaican roots in reggae and soul, paying homage to the warm climbs of the Sunshine State and laying down a much copied template using the TR-808 drum machine create the electronic emulations of the breakbeat, claps accenting the backbeat and trademark low frequencies shaking the floorboards. The instrumental stretches the arrangement, emphasising the interplay between electronics, bass, vocal samples, scratching and fx, the voice transformed into a percussive element in its own right. The flip sees 40 Thieves flexing their understated understanding of electro funk, making for a rounded, generation-jumping package.

The new LP by Krefeld-born, Berlin-based artist Philipp Otterbach entitled 'The Dahlem Diaries'.

Recorded in a little-visited corner of the German capital, 'The Dahlem Diaries' is a convergence of ideas, sketches and tracks, both old and new, most of which were produced between 2020-2022. Whilst eerie atmospheres, electronics and drums have played a pivotal role in Philipp’s earlier releases, his latest is a rather more introspective affair, in which the guitar takes a leading role. A role Otterbach uses to quietly bring light and hope to his music.

Speaking about his writing process, Philipp explains that, based around his original compositions, “Friends were nice enough to contribute additional parts on their instruments which I then reworked, put together and re-contextualized. The recordings encapsulate a very specific moment in time, one that would have sounded perhaps very different the day before or after.”

Combined with a strong use of effects and field recordings, 'The Dahlem Diaries' feels somewhat like a scene or fragment from a story, in which the narrative remains undefined. It is a playful album that is something of a blurred underwater adventure, sounding as bright as it is hazy, even psychedelic at times, yet with an almost melancholic positivity. In Philipp’s own words: “It could be an album about friendship and being at one with myself, whilst at the same time bringing a certain seriousness to my music, but not necessarily to myself; there is also a playful humour hidden in there. ”

Raw Energy by JD Twitch showing Petersen's Trance (Not Trance) the way to the dancefloor.
Synths and sitars for eternal bliss on the flipside. Another pin glowing!

Back in 2017, Basso delved into his micro-press cassette collection to treat us to the first retrospective of kosmische wizard Trance. Spanning both the bucolic and galactic, ‚Tapes' (GBR010) suspended time and space, enveloping us in the nebulous beauty of Jürgen Petersen's misty ambience.

Among the appreciative audience for this mind expanding release was one JD Twitch aka Keith McIvor, one half of the mighty Optimo. Keith's vision of remixing Jurgen's ‚Purification' for the club was embraced by both the artist and the label guy with glowing eyes. Charting a course through progressive house, ambient techno and the weirder bits of the solar system, McIvor combines the celestial synthesis of the original with some tough and tracky drum programming, turning the intensity up to 11 in pursuit of early morning ascension. A sensitive arrangement allows space for Peterson's waveforms to work their magic, while laser fire and additional fx abuse unlock evolutionary abilities buried deep in your unconscious mind.
The previously unreleased, largely unheard ‚Contemplation' was originally intended to feature on the ‚Tapes' compilation, but fell off the edge of that flat Earth thanks to its maximal runtime. Too good to remain a secret, this crepuscular creation enjoys the entirety of the B-side, drifting through the eons via meditative electronics, delicate sitar and a touch of tapey flutter.
Embrace the almost 40 year old tape's flaws and imperfections that could not be restorated and dive into the immersive and unparalleled.
This is music for higher beings.

Selected Songs 1997-2003 compiles some of the finest moments in the recording history of Hydroplane, the Melbourne-based indie-pop three-piece that operated alongside The Cat’s Miaow through the second half of the nineties. It’s the third release in what feels, now, like a loosely planned series by World Of Echo, documenting the music made by this group of friends in Melbourne sharehouses (The Cat’s Miaow’s Songs ’94-’98, 2022), or in the case of The Shapiros (Gone By Fall, 2023), while traversing the International Pop Underground.

Hydroplane would be familiar to anyone already following these breadcrumb trails – Andrew Withycombe, Bart Cummings and Kerrie Bolton were the group’s core, all members of The Cat’s Miaow. With Cat’s Miaow drummer Cameron Smith itinerant, having moved to London, the trio used this opportunity to expand their music. It’s a subtle, but important shift. If The Cat’s Miaow was about the perfect, minimalist, two-minute pop song, Hydroplane’s music was far more open-ended, embracing the loops and drones, sampled house-y shuffle beats, the burbling of a Roland Jupiter-4 synth, all of which the trio joined, effortlessly, to their endless capacity for moving, elegant melodicism.

They may have only planned to release one seven-inch single, but the sound Hydroplane created was so bewitching, so compelling, that the project’s lifespan ran for around half a decade, and they ended up releasing three albums, including a self-titled debut recently reissued by Efficient Space, and seven singles. There are all kinds of compelling things happening in the music compiled here – the hazy repetition of the gentler side of Krautrock is in here, somewhere, which also suggests Stereolab at their most intimate and disarmed; the gently drifting guitars, gauzy and oneiric, set the songs adrift and floating, each one lost in its own imagined, distracted world. Songs like “The Love You Bring” set indistinct tonal floats across dance rhythms, in a way not quite heard since My Bloody Valentine’s “Instrumental” – but with the added gift of Bolton’s gorgeous voice.

This loose coalition with dance music, and the quiet experimentalism at the heart of Hydroplane, also gestures towards peers like Hood, Acetate Zero and Other People’s Children, and releases on renegade labels like Wurlitzer Jukebox and Enraptured. Like those groups and labels, The Cat’s Miaow were reconciling independent pop music’s past – sweet melody and melancholy, chiming and droning guitars – with the futures promised by DIY electronics and nascent digitalia, the interface of indie and IDM that led to some of the underground’s most blissful, texturally swoonsome music. All that is here, but also, the poise of the melodies is pure Cat’s Miaow, though, with Bolton’s voice sailing, pacifically, over some of the most pared-down, gorgeous music made during their decade.

It was a time, too, when such music could make waves – “We Crossed The Atlantic”, one of their early singles, was picked up by John Peel, who played it repeatedly on his legendary radio show, the song reaching #13 on his 1997 Festive 50. That the song itself was a cover of a tune by 1960s Australian beatnik-pop-poet Pip Proud felt even more perfect – a group of outsiders paying tribute to another outsider, played on the radio one of the few broadcasters brave and human enough to take a chance on this music. But it was a time where everything was up for grabs, and genres were flowing into each other: folk songs went drone; indie re-discovered noise; ambient pop floated, again, out onto the dancefloor. And while they may have been sequestered away in Melbourne, Australia, Hydroplane felt core to that scene, a quietly driving force.

Compiling material from across their brief but mercurial career, this double album perfectly captures the magic and mystery of Hydroplane’s dreamlike, perfect pop songs.

Wewantsounds continues its Akiko Yano reissue programme with the release of "Iroha Ni Konpeitou," another superb Akiko Yano album and one of her funkiest, highlighting her unmissable singing and songwriting talents. Recorded in Tokyo and New York City, the album features a superb line up of the best musicians from both cities and sees Yano mixing Japanese pop with funk and a touch of electronics, playing a wide array of keyboards programmed by YMO synth wizard Hideki Matsutake. This is the first time the album is released outside of Japan and this deluxe LP edition includes remastered sound, download card plus the original 4-page insert with poster, lyrics and full line-up.

First appearing on TV screens in September 1968, Joe 90 was a unique nine year old boy with the ability to absorb the brain patterns of top experts

enabling him to become the most special agent of W.I.N. (World Intelligence Network).

Whilst there are arguably better-known scores amongst Barry Gray's sublime catalogue of work with the Andersons, the composer's work for Joe 90 is in many ways

the most consistent and inventive selection he ever wrote. Developing a theme for the new series was always the musician's starting point, and for Joe 90, the pop charts breezed into Gray's studio,

with an opening tune featuring a genuine groove. Mixing Gray's inventive electronics with 60s "surf rock" guitars was an inspired decision.

It is no wonder that this piece has gone on to enjoy a second life as a Northern Soul disco floor-filler.

For episodic incidentals, Gray was freed from the detached unearthly premise of Captain Scarlet and able to bring back a playful sensibility

and a more mature musical palette which are amply illustrated in this 24 track collection.

REPRESS

Codek is the brainchild of Jean-Marie Salaun who grew up in Paris influenced by the folklore of the inner city. In 1978 he joined art rock group SpionS alongside Gregory Davidow and recorded two singles. Diving into the Paris post punk scene he met Claude Arto and designed the artwork for Claude's single on Celluloid Kwai Systeme / Betty Boop.' Robin Scott (M Pop Music') had produced the SpionS first single and wanted to collaborate further. With Claude, Jean-Marie wrote Me Me Me', intended for a choir, for M. Then SpionS split and Robin was off to Switzerland to record an album to follow-up his hit single. That left Jean-Marie alone in London, where he began working as Codek, a play on the brand name Kodak The Me Me Me' single was released by MCA Records in 1980. Back in Paris, now with some studio experience, Celluloid Records hired Jean-Marie to produce records for Artefact and Les Orphelins. Over the next 2 years he began working on ideas for the next Codek single Closer / Tam Tam'

Closer' started its life as an electric baseline played by Jean-Marie. Claude Arto sequenced the floating synthesizers. Laurent Grangier and Frédéric Lapierre of reggae band Immigration Act played the horns. The lyrics Hard to say. Easy to do. We don't need to say what we do' were a statement on creation as narration expressed Jean-Marie's ennui, I'm tired with it.' Tam Tam' was inspired by Burundi drummers playing on the plaza in front of Beaubourg where the song was recorded. Jean-Marie enlisted one of the drummers from the circle, Georges Atta Dikalo, to lay down percussion for the song. The female singers were from the French Caribbean and added falsetto tribal chants. JM was part of the the African night scene in Paris, remixing Xalam's Kanu' and Touré Kunda's Salaly Muhamed.' Claude achieved complex rhythmic patterns using a modular synthesizer and heavy processing. Jean-Marie recorded himself beating his chest for the thump noises. The recording of Tam Tam' and Closer' spanned over two years. They started on 16-track in Studio d'Auteuil, where JM blew the woofers, before resuming in Studio Centre Georges Pompidou with an added 8-track recorder. Jean-Marie was producing other bands, and a lot of this was recorded on "borrowed" studio time. The single was released in 1981 on West African Music, a tiny label from the Ivory Coast, and was re-released a year later by Island Records in the UK (where the B-side was re-named Tim Toum'). Both tracks were staples in the DJ sets of Beppe Loda and Daniele Baldelli, finding a spiritual home in the Cosmic scene of Italy.

Both songs have been remastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The jacket is an exact replica of the 1981 edition with artwork by Angela Boy, inspired by primitive electronics and African paintings. Each copy includes an doubles-sided insert with photos and liner notes by Jean-Marie Salaun.

Codek is the brainchild of Jean-Marie Salaun who grew up in Paris influenced by the folklore of the inner city. In 1978 he joined art rock group SpionS and collaborated with Robin Scott (M 'Pop Music'). He began working as Codek, a play on the brand name Kodak with the 'Me Me Me' single released in 1980. In 1981 the 'Tam Tam'/'Closer' single was released on West African Music, a tiny label from the Ivory Coast, and re-released a year later by Island Records in the UK (where the B-side was re-named 'Tim Toum'). 'Tam Tam' was inspired by Burundi drummers playing in the plaza in front of Beaubourg where the song was recorded. Jean-Marie enlisted one of the drummers from the circle, Georges Atta Dikalo, to lay down percussion for the song. The female singers were from the French Caribbean and added falsetto tribal chants. Claude Arto achieved complex rhythmic patterns using a modular synthesizer and heavy processing. Jean-Marie recorded himself beating his chest for the thump noises. The recording of spanned over two years. They started on 16-track in Studio d'Auteuil, where Jean-Marie blew the woofers, before resuming in Studio Centre Georges Pompidou with an added 8-track recorder.

In 2017 we reissued the 'Tam Tam'/ 'Closer' single and shortly after the 24-track master tapes were discovered in Paris by original engineer Gérard Chiron. We arranged for graphic designer Maycec to pick up the tapes and immediately began to think of remixers for this project. First up is producer and DJ Daniele Baldelli who gave the original single a spiritual home in the Cosmic 80s scene of Italy. Here he's teamed up with Marco Dionigi for two remixes. Remix A goes full on funky disco baseline while Remix B a more balearic affair. We remember Justin sharing a memory of DJing the original Island Records promo at the Mudd Club in 1981 so we had to ask him for remix. He teamed up with his Whatever/Whatever production partner Bryan Mette and delivered an hypnotic pulsing house remix and an extended edit. All songs have been mastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The jacket is new twist designed by Eloise Leigh on the 1981 edition artwork by Angela Boy, inspired by primitive electronics and African paintings.

Mike Cooper wrote his final songwriter record, a suite of gloaming glam-rock anthems performed with a spiritual jazz trio, while living on the Costa Tropical of Granada, Spain, an era when he was considering retiring from music altogether. A chance encounter and a last-ditch record deal convinced him to make one last album, which he recorded in 1974 at Pathway Studios in London, with “The Greatest Rock and Roll Band in the World,” featuring the inventive South African jazz rhythm section of Louis Moholo and Harry Miller with UK saxophonist Mike Osborne. This first-ever reissue includes a bonus CD of Milan Live Acoustic 2018, a previously unreleased solo set that represents Cooper’s return, after forty-four years pursuing free improvisation and electronics, to a new, deconstructed approach to singing, steel guitar, and songcraft. The deluxe LP+CD edition also features a six-panel insert with additional artwork and an essay by the artist about both records. The deluxe 2xCD gatefold edition features an eight-panel version of the same insert. In the wake of his magisterial triptych of early 1970s avant-folk-rock records Trout Steel (1970), Places I Know (1971), and The Machine Gun Co. (1972) the British songwriter, guitarist, and fledgling improviser Mike Cooper retreated to the Costa Tropical of Granada, Spain. With no prospects for touring or recording again, his fiery band the Machine Gun Co. had disintegrated. Cooper sets the scene in his liner notes of the first-ever reissue of his unjustly forgotten next album Life and Death in Paradise (1974): No one came running with offers of fame and riches, and we fell apart, and I left the country and headed for the beach, disillusioned and a bit disorientated musically. I went to Almuñécar in Andalusia, a place I had been going since 1969, because a painter friend from Reading, Rowland Fade who made the collage in the gatefold of my earlier album Trout Steel had moved there in 1968. It was in this synthetic coastal “paradise,” unmoored and adrift, considering retiring from music altogether, that he began tentatively writing new songs. A chance encounter with producer Tony Hall, who offered Cooper a last-ditch record deal on Hall’s nascent Fresh Air label, convinced him to make one last album with the stipulation that he could assemble what he called “The Greatest Rock and Roll Band in the World.” I told Tony that I would do it if I could hire some of my South African jazz musician friends that I had used on my Pye/Dawn albums and some friends from Reading that I still knew and admired. I called up Harry Miller, Louis Moholo, and Mike Osborne, who were in fact a trio at the time … and several local Reading heroes, including the singer-songwriter Terry Clarke. The result, recorded live with minimal overdubbing at Pathway Studios in London, was Life and Death in Paradise, an utterly singular suite of gloaming glam-rock anthems performed with a spiritual jazz trio comprising the inventive South African jazz rhythm section of Moholo and Miller with UK saxophonist Osborne. Unlike anything else in Cooper’s extensive catalog. Fresh Air fizzled, and Life and Death became Cooper’s final record as a songwriter, having pushed the form as far as he could. Drifting north from Spain back to the UK, he fell into the scene of the London Musicians Collective (LMC) including Paul Burwell, David Toop, and saxophonist Lol Coxhill, Cooper’s bandmate in the Recedents and fully embraced free improvisation. He was still, however, interested in singing and lyrics, so, influenced by Tom Phillips, William Burroughs, and Brion Gysin, he began experimenting with text collage and cut-up techniques, arriving at his own hybrid compositional strategy for improvisatory songs. The previously unreleased solo set Milan Live Acoustic 2018 represents Cooper’s return, after more than four decades pursuing free improvisation and electronics, to a new, deconstructed approach to singing, lap steel guitar, and songcraft. Presented here together with Life and Death in Paradise, the two records provide fascinating bookends to Mike Cooper’s long, mercurial, and pioneering practice as a songmaker.

Imagine if Eric Carle had been signed to Ghost Box, or if the Look Around You team had ended up taking over the Radiophonic Workshop. If you can picture that kind of sound, we’re ready to welcome you to the Cosmic Neighbourhood.

Cosmic Neighbourhood’s Gatherings is an album made for wild imaginations and deep daydreams. Its fourteen tracks provide the kind of trip you can take if you close your eyes tight enough and let your mind wander. It’s the music of small things, groovy sounds from way underground that’s inspired as much by Martin Rev and Moondog as it is by walking trees, pine cones catching the bus, nocturnal farmyard symphonies and the movements of butterflies reimagined through restless drum machines. Sounds good? Come join the gathering. There’s room for everyone.

Cosmic Neighbourhood is the musical alias of York-based illustrator and musician Adam Higton. Adam’s work encompasses comic strips, collage and sound art and documents the daily goings-on of the forest folk within the realm of the Cosmic Neighbourhood. His two albums on Kit (|Collages I and II) see each song acting as a response to a series of paper-and-scissors compositions. Sonically, these records straddle new and old, taking modular electronics, flutes, bells and softly pattering drum machines, before colouring them all with the amber glow of some forgotten, psychedelic kids' TV programme. Higton's benign toots and echoing jingles bring to mind Daphne Oram's early delay experiments or the meandering playfulness of Tom Cameron. Radiophonic and time-worn, it still somehow sounds like the future.

Gatherings follows previous Cosmic Neighbourhood albums Library Vol 1 and Collages I and II. Previous Rivertones releases include spoken word and found sound collages by Robert Macfarlane & Chris Watson, poetry and elemental music by Will Burns & Hannah Peel and the soundtrack to Wolfgang Buttress’ Hive structure at Kew Gardens by Be.