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Recorded in the early 2000s, The Sand Dollars' two Tropicália-inspired remakes of classic late 60's nuggets by The Kinks and Donovan are paired together for the first time here on F-Spot Records' new subsidiary label Pangea International Recording Co., which focuses on world and global groove inspired releases, curated by David M Celia and Dan Ubick.

From the vaults of Dan Ubick's Lions Den Studios, we get the crown jewel in Ray Davies' catalog, "Waterloo Sunset" from Something Else by The Kinks, redone as a funky Tropicália-inspired track and re-named "Waterloo Bossa" complete with fuzzy compact organ, bouncy Fender bass, funky drums from Connie Price, a lush horn arrangement by Ubick's former Keystones cohort and trumpeter Todd M. Simon (Dap Kings, El Michels Affair, Macy Gray), string arrangement by mix guru and multi-instrumentalist Steve Kaye (The Lions, Inara George, Hepcat, Marley Bros.) and topped off with stereophonic vocals by jazz chanteuse Gretchen Parlato (Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Esperanza Spalding, Lionel Loueke).

Side B's "Get Thy Bearings" was initially pressed on Now-Again Records back in 2003 and quickly sampled by Lily Allen on her track "Sunday Morning" due to the raw and heavy drums and Fender bass courtesy of Connie Price and Richard "Doo" Lee along-side inventive horn arrangement by Todd Simon flipping the original on its heady head. Now freshly mastered, this B-side instrumental is available again as the hard-hitting remake of Donovan's classic from 1968's The Hurdy Gurdy Man LP that may inspire you to sample it as Biz Markie did on "I Told You."

Penguin Cafe kündigen heute ihr fünftes Studioalbum Rain Before Seven... an, das am 7.Juli 2023 bei Erased Tapes erscheinen wird.



Eine zuversichtliche Grundstimmung durchzieht das fünfte Studioalbum von Penguin Cafe, Rain Before Seven…, wobei es sich keinesfalls um jenen extrem selbstbewussten, fast schon prahlerischen Optimismus handelt, sondern eher um so eine auf bescheidene Art hoffnungsvolle Grundhaltung, die man den Menschen auf der Insel ja häufiger nachsagt. Auch wenn alle Anzeichen das Gegenteil behaupten, spürt man hier sofort diese Gewissheit, dass sich alles doch noch irgendwie zum Guten wenden wird. Vermutlich zumindest.



Der Titel des Albums geht auf eine alte Bauernregel zurück, wobei die gereimte Vorhersage – „… fine before eleven“: ab 11 Uhr also wieder alles klar – auf ein baldiges gutes Ende hindeutet, vollkommen unabhängig davon, was die Wissenschaft sagt: „Ich habe diesen Spruch in einem Buch entdeckt. Davor hatte ich ihn noch nie gehört“, erzählt Arthur Jeffes, der Kopf von Penguin Cafe. „Er hat so einen dezent optimistischen Beigeschmack, und das gefällt mir sehr. Man verwendet ihn heutzutage kaum noch, aber der Reim beschreibt tatsächlich Wetterphänomene in England, die vom Atlantik aus über die Insel ziehen.“



Angefangen beim leinwandgroßen und schwärmerischen Eröffnungstitel „Welcome to London“, der mit einem Augenzwinkern auf Morricone anspielt, bis hin zum „Goldfinch Yodel“, jenem „Maibaum-Banger“ (um es mit Arthurs Worten zu sagen), mit dem das neue Album ausklingt, zieht sich ein angenehmes Gefühl von Leichtigkeit und Lebensmut durch den Longplayer, unterfüttert mit der Ausgelassenheit exotischer Rhythmen. Alles wirkt spielerisch und verspielt, und selbst der Titel ist eine Anspielung – auf A Matter of Life… aus dem Jahr 2011, der letzten Veröffentlichung, deren Titel in eine Ellipse mündete Jenes Debütalbum von Penguin Cafe diente einst als Bindeglied und Brücke – zwischen dem legendären Penguin Cafe Orchestra, das einst Arthurs Vater Simon Jeffes leitete, und dem gefeierten Nachfolger, als dessen Mastermind seither Arthur verantwortlich zeichnet.



„Ich glaube, das wirklich Neue an seinem Ansatz bestand darin, spannende und schräge Ideen zu nehmen – und dann seltsame Dinge damit anzustellen“, meint Arthur, „dabei aber konstant im Blick zu haben, dass es hinterher auch schön klingt und emotional ansprechend bleibt.“ Dieses Ethos lebt weiter in der Musik von Penguin Cafe: „Dazu haben wir uns entschlossen, als ich daran anknüpfte, schließlich spielen wir die Sachen meines Vaters und machen dazu auch neue Musik, die im selben Klanguniversum angesiedelt ist. Das bedeutet, dass ich gewissermaßen moralisch dazu verpflichtet bin, den ursprünglichen roten Faden im Auge zu behalten – und dafür zu sorgen, dass wir nicht plötzlich in Richtung Thrash-Metal abbiegen.“



Dennoch waren die rhythmischen Elemente, die zum Teil sogar an elektronische Sounds erinnern, noch nie so präsent und tonangebend wie auf Rain Before Seven…, was durchaus auch dem Co-Produzenten Robert Raths geschuldet ist. „Find Your Feet“ etwa hat ein Beat-Fundament, das weit über einen bloßen Pulsschlag hinausgeht. Abgemischt von Tom Chichester-Clark, blitzt an Stellen wie diesen etwas auf, das Arthur selbst als „fast schon elektronischen Vibe“ bezeichnet, um dann ganz aufgeregt zu ergänzen: „Es geht vor allem auch einfach ums Spaßhaben, was auf den letzten drei Alben nicht so zu hören war.” Extrem ausgelassen klingt auch „In Re Budd“, das dem verstorbenen Ambient-Urgestein Harold Budd gewidmet ist. Arthur erfuhr von dessen Tod an jenem Tag, als er diesen feierlichen Ohrwurm komponierte, dessen Synkopen deutlich komplexer sind, als sie auf den ersten Blick wirken. Auf einem präparierten Klavier gespielt, wobei die Filzstücke dem Track zusätzlichen Bounce verleihen, setzt Jeffes hier auf einen Afro Cuban Cafe-Vibe – was wunderbar zum widerspenstigen Geist des verstorbenen Budd passt.



Und schließlich wäre da noch das bereits erwähnte „Welcome to London“, das seinen Titel erhielt, als sich die Welt gerade wieder zu öffnen begann und die Menschen auch wieder Fernreisen antreten durften. Jeffes, der somit nach langer Zeit endlich wieder einen Fuß auf britischen Boden setzen konnte, war sofort beeindruckt von filmischen Soundtrack-Qualitäten (à la John Barry) dieses Stücks, als er mit dem Taxi von Heathrow nach West-London fuhr und zur Musik die opulente, in Dämmerungslicht getauchte Metropolenkulisse auf sich wirken ließ. Hier kann man deutlich die eingangs erwähnte Zuversicht raushören – und dazu vielleicht auch einen Hauch von bissiger Ironie: „Robert Raths hat der Sache noch eine Nuance hinzugefügt, die ich interessant finde, weil doch so viele Londoner ursprünglich gar nicht aus London stammen. Man schlägt also in London als Zugezogener auf, man weiß noch nicht, zu welchem Lager man sich zugehörig fühlen soll, und dann wird man auf der Straße überfallen und ausgeraubt – und in dem Licht betrachtet, hat dieses ‘Welcome to London’ doch einen eher sarkastischen Beigeschmack.“

El Nido: a welcoming embrace in uncertain times. The world changed forever in the second quarter of 2020. The life we were used to ceased to be, as we were overcome by constant fear, distrust in all that surrounded us and a fatalist attitude towards the world we lived in. With the pandemic came lockdown, mandatory isolation for months, empty streets, face masks, hand sanitizer, the fear of going out, an absurd roll call of Covid fatalities, the daily tension of not knowing when it would all end and the urge to "get back to normal," something that certainly never happened. Out of that pandemic saturation and that urge for "normality" came El Nido ("The Nest"), the third album by Italy-based Colombian producer Montoya, who describes this record as "becoming virgins of destiny again, facing up to that fatalist world and creating that longing for tranquility. Savoring that moment prior to the pandemic, that instant when the most important thing wasn't the immediate reality or the global situation." Montoya sees El Nido as that quiet place that you think of when you close your eyes; it is a beach or a mountain, a sunrise or a sunset, a wave in the sea refreshing your body, or an almost-whispering wind that immediately silences everything around you. On his previous records, Iwa in 2015 and Otún in 2019, his work as a producer prevailed, feeding the growing wave of Latin American electronica, fusing IDM and techno with indigenous root music, Andean folklore and rhythms from the tropical Caribbean coast and ancestral Pacific in terms of instrumentation. But on El Nido Montoya splits the balance, offering us five merely instrumental tracks and six collaborations with Latin American artists, including Colombians Nidia Góngora on "Soñé," Montañera on "Sierra" and Pedrina on "Nubecita." It also features Mexican artist Pahua on "Flor del Mar," the Peruvian Lara Nuh on "El Faro" and the Franco-Venezuelan La Chica on "Palosanto." Starting from the name itself ("The Nest"), an evocation of home, El Nido is also a Filipino municipality on the island of Palawan, a place that turned out to be Montoya's last live experience before the pandemic. That place with crystal clear seas and white sand became the scene and starting point for this work, reflecting on the abstraction of a chaotic world and proposing blurred destinations with each song, like places that exist within memories when we close our eyes, letting us inhabit them, for a couple of minutes at least. On the other hand, it's a record that approaches love; as a yearning and a refuge, as a guide and an anchor, but also as a rhetorical figure that makes us vibrate and elevates us, while at the same time keeping us grounded and letting us settle in the place that we can use as our shelter.

No More Sound, Sad Park’s third full-length, begins with an ending. More specifically, with its own ending. Because the short, just-over-a-minute-long “No More Songs” is kind of a stripped-down reprise of the title track that closes this record. In one way, it means this album—the band’s first for Pure Noise—travels back in time over its 38 or so minutes, but in another it’s also traveling forwards. Because while “No More Sound” is a more fleshed-out version of “No More Songs”, it also contains melodic and lyrical throwbacks to the eleven songs that sit between them. Perhaps more importantly, as everything comes full circle on the record, it offers something that the opener doesn’t. Recorded across ten days at Balboa Studios in Los Angeles, No More Sound is, in fact, the sound of a band really coming into their own.

No More Sound, Sad Park’s third full-length, begins with an ending. More specifically, with its own ending. Because the short, just-over-a-minute-long “No More Songs” is kind of a stripped-down reprise of the title track that closes this record. In one way, it means this album—the band’s first for Pure Noise—travels back in time over its 38 or so minutes, but in another it’s also traveling forwards. Because while “No More Sound” is a more fleshed-out version of “No More Songs”, it also contains melodic and lyrical throwbacks to the eleven songs that sit between them. Perhaps more importantly, as everything comes full circle on the record, it offers something that the opener doesn’t. Recorded across ten days at Balboa Studios in Los Angeles, No More Sound is, in fact, the sound of a band really coming into their own.

Freakazoid was written mostly in the months before the pandemic. When we were ready to start tracking, we found ourselves with a lot of free time to be creative but no opportunity to get together, so we tried something we'd never done - recording an album all by ourselves in isolation. To create the sessions, we would record instruments separately in our houses and email the tracks to each other. That was an extremely frustrating and time-consuming process that took from the fall of 2020 until late 2022 to complete. We were used to banging out albums in a studio in a few weeks so it was a blessing and curse to have all the time in the world to work on it. They say great art is never finished, it is only abandoned and that's how it felt to wrap this up. There are still little changes I wish I could make from time to time but I've had to learn to just let it go. That being said, I'm so proud of the album and so happy that the reaction has been so incredibly positive so far.

A1 - Burst Transmission

ASC returns with another stellar solo EP and Burst Transmission dives straight in head first to kick things off, pulsing crafted breakbeats and computer FX intertwine and stack with smooth synths, keys and trademark vocal hits. A powerful undertone bassline perfect for the dancefloor keeps the momentum going with blissful speckles of detail in the composition, including expertly tuned bongo drums scattered throughout.

A2 - Whispers

Sci-fi vibes take center stage as ASC channels that classic 720 energy with Whispers, a track which utilises sharp stabbing snares in distinct, forceful drum patterns which develop and adapt over halcyon synthwork. Respite comes in the middle of the track as the breaks change and settle the vibe briefly, before we are thrust forward again with those epic breaks commanding our attention once more.

AA1 - Psionic bond

ASC continues the retro sci-fi vibes with Psionic Bond, entering with zapping laser FX and a haunting vocal sample echoing before thunderous breaks thrash their way into the track, epic kicks and sharp thrusting snares dominate proceedings while through the wooshing layers of synthwork a distinctive bassy melody elevates the composition. This one is going to send the lucky discerning dancefloor into extra-sensory fever.

AA2 - Future Music

Ending the EP with something a little different, Future Music gives us a true taste of the old school brand new. A building intro lashes you with jabbing bass and effects, classic hi-hats rattle and slowly the 90's jungle breakbeat edits are released in waves as the piece progresses. The construction of the breaks is staggered sparingly, weaved with an influx of effects and samples creating a truly unique experience.

On their sophomore effort Tusky, surrealist duet Robbie & Mona ascend beyond the lo-fi scrawlings of their debut album to something altogether more grandiose. Between the lights down drama of sprawling opener ‘Sensation’, to the ‘roll credits’ coda of closer ‘Always Gonna Be A Dead Man’, Tusky exists as a glitzy, lucid journey playing out before the listener.
While debut album EW captured William Carkeet and Ellie Gray as they were finding their feet with one another, creating Tusky was a wholly symbiotic process from day one. “We got better at knowing what each other wanted,” William offers. “This was the album that we were trying to make from the beginning.”

Simultaneously evoking multiple eras of music, the album drifts through worlds of synth pop, jazz, trap, drill, ballroom waltz and leftfield electronica, with the scatterbrain sound palette melded by a peppering of instrumental motifs and William’s addiction to sampling sounds across multiple tracks. “I wanted there to be this weird dimensional thing going on,” William explains, “where songs from the album are playing in multiple places.”

The record sees an expansive cast of musicians assembled, with a much heavier focus on live instrumentation than previous outings. Alongside the expected fare of crackly synths, samplers and drum machines, Tusky gets its glossy sheen from a rich tapestry of jazz drums, double bass, grand piano and saxophone.

Most of the tracks are laden with improvised saxophone from Campbell Baum (Sorry, Broadside Hacks) and Ben Vince (Housewives, Joy Orbison), much of which was scrambled by William in post-production, lifting scraps from one song and layering them atop an entirely different track. Elsewhere, session musicians were cherry picked, including Bingo Fury, his drummer Henry Terrett, and a string ensemble led by Caelia Lunniss and Jo Silverston (Spindle Ensemble).

Most surprising is a rap feature from Monika (of South-East London collective Nukuluk), who brings album centrepiece ‘Mildred’ to new heights with a fiery verse on pain. Aside from being the most unlikely addendum to a sombre piano ballad, it demonstrates Robbie & Mona’s natural state of playfulness, forever following emotions and sensuality over any notion of traditional compositional boundaries.
Many of Tusky's tracks owe their inception to cinema, be it the soundtrack to Betty Blue, the glowing films of Wim Wenders, or the surprising parallels between La Belle Et La Bete and Bad Boys. Equally, much of Robbie & Mona's new-found sense of tension and spectacle comes from William’s recent work soundtracking independent filmmakers, while Ellie gave greater priority to threading a narrative through her stream of consciousness writing style.

In all its majesty, Tusky celebrates creativity with creation. “If you begin to see fiction as real, you can reincarnate and become different things. You can grow,” Ellie implores. “Nothing stays the same. You can shed old characters in yourself. There’s great joy in that.”

Blistering come-back from Culted with five multi-tempo’d bangers, something for every tribal gathering from chic Tulum rituals to the brutalism of Eastern-European underground clubs, rounded off by doses of Italian Rasta and Japanese re-imagining of Hungarian folk song. Cult wizardry at it’s finest, once again!

Hailing from the seaside communities surrounding Enoshima, a small island located 50 km southwest of Tokyo, Maya Ongaku is a ragtag collective of local musicians whose brand of earthy psychedelia transcends widely beyond the roots of their inner souls. The name derives not from any kind of ancient civilization, but rather a neologism defined as the imagined view outside one’s field of vision. The band—currently a trio of Tsutomu Sonoda, Ryota Takano, and Shoei Ikeda—finds sanctuary at the Ace General Store, a beachy vintage shop and salon-like space just hidden from sight from the bustling, touristy riverside Subana Street. Between discussions on music and art, curating the vinyl section and manning the register, and chatting up with locals young and old, the members find time to jam and record their spontaneous ideas in the studio tucked away in the back. It’s in this unlikely setting where Maya Ongaku finds its origins, the culmination of what Sonoda describes as 自然発生 (shizen hassei), meaning spontaneous generation, or the supposed production of living organisms from nonliving matter.

Approach to Anima, the group’s debut album released on Guruguru Brain, finds Maya Ongaku building a foundational groove while tapping into their innermost psyche. Sonoda’s malleable guitar and vocals, Takano’s sinuous bass lines, Ikeda’s floating woodwinds, and a sprinkling of delicate percussion—all coalesce into an aural experience that’s assertive yet abstract, calm but unsettling. The slow building, sax-laden “Approach” serves as an introduction to Maya Ongaku’s world, while the appropriately-named “Water Dream” floats its way toward the gentle finale of “Pillow Song.” It’s a concise distillation of their many interests and influences, from Neo-Dada and Fluxus, to where contemporary art intersects with the development of modern recording technology in the ‘60s and ‘70s.

As the title suggests, Approach to Anima is not intended to be a terminus; it’s merely the beginning of an exploration. The three childhood friends that comprise Maya Ongaku are always looking beyond the confines of the idyllic but rapidly gentrifying enclave of their beloved Enoshima. Feeding off of the energy that still radiates from the triumphant, decade-long journey of their label bosses’ band Kikagaku Moyo, who rose to global prominence from scrappy beginnings busking on the streets of Takadanobaba, they hope to go wherever inspiration takes them, to anywhere around the globe where their music can find a home.

Ultimately, Maya Ongaku’s uninhibited world-building will make it possible for us to see the unseen, expand the possibilities of the naked eye—all through the unbridled vibrancy of their music.

These records contain some of the most storied names not just in British, but world music. From a bunch of school friends setting out to be 'the British Jefferson Airplane', over the course of their first quartet of releases, the group metamorphosed into the leading exponents of British folk rock. In the way American folk and blues had looked back to gospel songs and spirituals, Fairport mined a seam a traditional English folk song, and then combined them with rock rhythms to create something ground- breaking and quickly emulated.

For many, this is the first time the considerable talents of Richard Thompson, Sandy Denny, Ashley Hutchings, Ian Matthews, Dave Swarbrick and Dave Mattacks would have been heard on record.

From a bunch of school friends setting out to be 'the British Jefferson Airplane', over the course of their first quartet of releases, the group metamorphosed into the leading exponents of British folk rock. In the way American folk and blues had looked back to gospel songs and spirituals, Fairport mined a seam a traditional English folk song, and then combined them with rock rhythms to create something ground-breaking and quickly emulated.

Write a blurb about the new four-track EP by Ghost in the Machine. It is the ninth release on their label Genosha Basic.
The title of the EP is "Brown for Whatever".

The first track is called Just a Dream. Mention something about it being very dreamy and heavy.

The second track is called Somebody's Cream, which the artists must think is a very clever title.

The first track on the flip-side is called Uncut Scorpion. Say that it's a bit disappointing that it seems to have no relation to real scorpions and that given today's climate it should have been called Uncut Lobster.

The final track on the EP is called Liquid Surrender. Write something witty about it being a total acid face-melter. Say once again how amazing Ghost in the Machine is.

I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant is an expanded edition of the fourth full-length album by The Body, first released to widespread acclaim, and terror, in 2014. Sharing their moribund vision with Bobby Krlic, aka The Haxan Cloak, the tried and true sound of The Body is shred to pieces on I Shall Die Here, mutilated by process and re-animated in a spectral state by the collaboration.

This double album set is expanded with the previously unreleased Earth Triumphant, a full-length companion album that would become I Shall Die Here, showcasing The Body's brutality in its most primal form. With both albums revisited by The Body and Seth Manchester at Machines With Magnets and remastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios, this is the definitive edition of a shocking classic of unbridled bleakness and innovation. Formed by drummer Lee Buford and guitarist Chip King in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1999, The Body soon relocated to Providence, Rhode Island. The duo remained in Providence for a decade before moving west to their current home of Portland, Oregon. Their debut self-titled album (Moganano, 2003) and on the widely-acclaimed, classification curtailing of All the Waters of the Earth Turn to Blood (At A Loss, 2011) readied the band for even more experimentations. The employment of the Assembly of Light Choir's classical chorales on All the Waters, alongside more industrial music techniques such as vocal sampling and drum programming, prompted RVNG to inquire with King and Buford which darker corners of the electronic universe they were presumably interested in exploring.

The undertaking of I Shall Die Here was aided by Seth Manchester and Keith Souza, The Body's long standing engineer and creative collaborator, and noted producer Bobby Krlic. Krlic's own work as The Haxan Cloak struck a similarly despairing chord to The Body with the celebrated Excavation (Tri Angle, 2013), itself a minimalist evocation of the afterlife. I Shall Die Here shares similar nether space with the morbidly deviating darkness of Excavation, but remains sculpturally frozen in a sort of earthen purgatory.

The Body's musical approach, engraved by Buford's colossal beats and King's mad howl and bass-bladed guitar dirge, became something even more terrifying with Krlic's post-mortem ambiences serving as both baseline and outer limit. I Shall Die Here sonically serrates the remains of metal's already unidentifiable corpse and splays it amid tormented voices in shadow. This expanded edition gives us a window into the creation of a classic with the inclusion of its in utero twin, Earth Triumphant. Recorded as a nearly finished album by Buford and King before The Haxan Cloak's transformation, it stands as a raw statement of intent, the original DNA for what would soon mutate into something wholly new.

Fans of I Shall Die Here will find familiar sonic fragments in a more primitive state - like seeing an out-of-context photograph of a family member taken well before you knew them - but the album stands on its own in its minimalist brutality, a natural bridge to what The Body was soon to become. The Body's I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant will be released in digital and vinyl formats on June 30, 2023. On behalf of The Body, The Haxan Cloak, and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Intransitive, an organization that works to advance the cause of Trans liberation in Arkansas through art, education, advocacy, organizing and culture in order to create effective systemic change and on-the-ground impact.

I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant is an expanded edition of the fourth full-length album by The Body, first released to widespread acclaim, and terror, in 2014. Sharing their moribund vision with Bobby Krlic, aka The Haxan Cloak, the tried and true sound of The Body is shred to pieces on I Shall Die Here, mutilated by process and re-animated in a spectral state by the collaboration.

This double album set is expanded with the previously unreleased Earth Triumphant, a full-length companion album that would become I Shall Die Here, showcasing The Body's brutality in its most primal form. With both albums revisited by The Body and Seth Manchester at Machines With Magnets and remastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios, this is the definitive edition of a shocking classic of unbridled bleakness and innovation. Formed by drummer Lee Buford and guitarist Chip King in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1999, The Body soon relocated to Providence, Rhode Island. The duo remained in Providence for a decade before moving west to their current home of Portland, Oregon. Their debut self-titled album (Moganano, 2003) and on the widely-acclaimed, classification curtailing of All the Waters of the Earth Turn to Blood (At A Loss, 2011) readied the band for even more experimentations. The employment of the Assembly of Light Choir's classical chorales on All the Waters, alongside more industrial music techniques such as vocal sampling and drum programming, prompted RVNG to inquire with King and Buford which darker corners of the electronic universe they were presumably interested in exploring.

The undertaking of I Shall Die Here was aided by Seth Manchester and Keith Souza, The Body's long standing engineer and creative collaborator, and noted producer Bobby Krlic. Krlic's own work as The Haxan Cloak struck a similarly despairing chord to The Body with the celebrated Excavation (Tri Angle, 2013), itself a minimalist evocation of the afterlife. I Shall Die Here shares similar nether space with the morbidly deviating darkness of Excavation, but remains sculpturally frozen in a sort of earthen purgatory.

The Body's musical approach, engraved by Buford's colossal beats and King's mad howl and bass-bladed guitar dirge, became something even more terrifying with Krlic's post-mortem ambiences serving as both baseline and outer limit. I Shall Die Here sonically serrates the remains of metal's already unidentifiable corpse and splays it amid tormented voices in shadow. This expanded edition gives us a window into the creation of a classic with the inclusion of its in utero twin, Earth Triumphant. Recorded as a nearly finished album by Buford and King before The Haxan Cloak's transformation, it stands as a raw statement of intent, the original DNA for what would soon mutate into something wholly new.

Fans of I Shall Die Here will find familiar sonic fragments in a more primitive state - like seeing an out-of-context photograph of a family member taken well before you knew them - but the album stands on its own in its minimalist brutality, a natural bridge to what The Body was soon to become. The Body's I Shall Die Here / Earth Triumphant will be released in digital and vinyl formats on June 30, 2023. On behalf of The Body, The Haxan Cloak, and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Intransitive, an organization that works to advance the cause of Trans liberation in Arkansas through art, education, advocacy, organizing and culture in order to create effective systemic change and on-the-ground impact.

Lewis Taylor's legendary magnum opus: The Lost Album. "Now you're talking. That's my favourite LT album. Unlike all of the others, there isn't anything about it that embarrasses me." Straight from the genius's mouth. What can we say about this? Well, it's the most requested record ever at Be With Towers. The Lost Album was the intended follow-up to his first album but Island rejected it for fear of "confusing" the marketplace and its conception of Lewis as a soul artist. Their loss. It's a breezy sunset masterpiece.

The genesis of this incredible record needs unpicking a bit. Lewis stopped promoting the first album after a year and went home to record a completely different record that was the most un-R&B album you could probably ever hear: "I pushed in such an extreme direction the other way with what eventually became The Lost Album. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a perceived ‘trapped in R&B’ feeling I was going through at the time. Some people around me were in favour of it and others weren’t. In the end I think I lost confidence in it and did Lewis II instead." We did at least get Lewis II, which is a remarkable album, and he kept Island happy...for a bit. Not long after, Lewis was dropped. And what was to become The Lost Album could've been...er...lost. Forever.

Thankfully, however, Lewis and longtime partner Sabina Smyth revisited those scrapped demo tracks in 2003. They decided to re-arrange, re-record and then self-release them. So it was that the brand new version of The Lost Album finally dropped in late 2004. It's sheer perfection, and we don't say that lightly. The Lost Album was a fully 50/50 collaboration between Lewis and Smyth. As well as production, Sabina did a lot more writing on it, from the melody to "Listen Here" to the chord sequence for "Let's Hope Nobody Finds Us." Thankfully, Sabina is credited this time around.

No, it's not straight up "soul music" in the vein of his previous work. Yet, in its perfectly formed suite of one dozen songs, The Lost Album is dripping in soul. It's so warm, so effervescent and so alive with possibilities. It features deep, fresh imprints on well-loved, accessible sounds. It's a proper 70s style double album. Just one listen and the musical influences on The Lost Album are fairly self-explanatory, as Lewis recently told us, but it's always nice to hear that, in case we were in any doubt, he was definitely channeling Love, Yes, Brian Wilson, CSN, Laura Nyro and, of course, Todd Rundgren. The influences don't end there: "I’m particularly fond of my bass playing on that album, there’s a lot of Chris Squire going on which is cool."

Deep orchestral opener "Lost" is a sublime, harp-laced, string drenched gem, a cinematic, melancholic Axelrod-esque mini-epic that simply beguiles. Written by Smyth, it evokes Donny Hathaway's celestial "I Love The Lord, He Heard My Cry" from Extensions Of A Man. The only problem is the brief 90 seconds running time. It segues into the classic Brian Wilson-meets-power-pop-rock splendour of "Listen Here" which, with its outstanding extended harp-licked beatless intro, sounds like the younger cousin to Boston's "More Than A Feeling". We then drift into the ringing guitars of classic 70s rock anthem "Hide Your Heart Away". It's Lewis's personal favourite, "especially the multi-tracked guitar solo – I was listening to Boston at the time, which was fun." A-ha!

A new version of the heart-stopping, shoulda-been-a-massive-pop-hit "Send Me An Angel" opens Side B before the arrival of, in Lewis's completely correct words, "the clear standout, "Leader of the Band"; the perfect distillation of everything that album was trying to achieve." Soaring, piano-led Rundgren-esque power pop that makes the hairs on the back of your next stand on end. Truly, otherworldly. This is pure pop for now (and then) people. The simple jangly brilliance meets experimental prog-rock of "Yeah" sounds like simultaneously like prime CSNY and late 90s Radiohead (if they'd had a slightly more accessible bent and could write better tunes).

Oh, you wish The Beach Boys had continued writing amazing songs beyond Holland? Well, allow us to point you in the direction of the downlifting stunner "Please Help Me If You Can" and the warm textures and brilliant atmospherics of goosebump-inducer "Let’s Hope Nobody Finds Us". Words can't really describe the sheer beauty of these songs. So we'll stop trying. Just listen. Listen, listen, listen. Closing out this remarkable side of music, the accidentally Balearic "New Morning" should be blasting out at every sunrise set in Ibiza, this summer and forevermore.

The final side opens with the vaguely Beatlesey "Say I Love You". It's just classic, soaring pop-rock songwriting and should strictly be canonical. It's that good. The sassy, Stonesy swagger of "See My Way" injects enough rock'n'roll attitude to compensate for the rest of record's peace-loving, AOR sun-dappled vibe whilst album closer, "One More Mystery", emerging out of the rubble of the previous track, comes on initially like a Baroque-Pop George Harrison before piling crunching drums and screeching guitar solos atop the dreamy harmonies til close.

When asked what it means to have these records available on vinyl for the first time, Lewis is in no doubt: "It’s great and it’s really nice to be able to offer fans a different listening experience. There’s a whole other dimension with vinyl that taps into that whole nostalgia thing, well for me anyway. Something about the physical aspect of pulling it out of the sleeve and putting it on, it does tend to make you feel like you’re more engaged."

Lewis was adamant that he wanted all new artwork for The Lost Album vinyl sleeve and his brief was just the sort of classic tropical-beach-at-sunset you’d want to see on the front of a record that sounds like this. On the finished sleeve, the beach at sunset is just where we start out, before heading up through the painterly clouds and heading out into the stars. And yes, the lettering is a definite subtle nod to all those in-between-period Beach Boys bootlegs we all love. Simon Francis's sensitive mastering combines with Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios so the album sounds appropriately outstanding. The immaculate Record Industry double LP pressing will ensure this previously lost masterpiece stays forever found.

Phi-Psonics is a meditative, deeply soulful immersive jazz group from
Los Angeles, led by bassist Seth Ford-Young and featuring Sylvain
Carton on woodwinds, Mitchell Yoshida on electric piano, and Josh
Collazo on drums. Their deeply soulful music draws on jazz and
classical influences together with Ford-Young’s own musical
experiences, relationships, and his introduction to spirituality, yoga and philosophy at a young age, along the way they create something
uniquely their own, beautiful landscapes for your thoughts to roam
within.

Octava is their second album and like the Cradle before it’s emotional,
introspective, and unusual approach to spiritual jazz offers us a
beautiful space for uplifting contemplation and wields a quiet power to create a spiritually inspiring world of timeless, warm melodies and
instrumental exploration for the deep listener. Originally from
Washington DC area, Ford-Young moved to California in the early 90s
and fell in love with the deep sounds of the upright bass and the music of Charles Mingus, John and Alice Coltrane, and Duke Ellington along with Bach, Chopin, Pärt, and Satie. He immersed himself deeply in music and keen to learn combined intense personal study with
collaborations, tours, and recordings with artists such as Tom Waits,
Beats Antique, and John Vanderslice. In 2010 he moved from the SanFrancisco Bay area to the Los Angeles hills and continued his
explorations and although Phi-Psonics music has been described as
spiritual jazz, or deep immersive listening music but this is music for
fans of Radiohead and The Invisible as well as fans of Alice Coltrane
and Pharaoh Sanders.

The album opens with Invocation as we embark on our journey. The
repeated melody at the end feels ancient but also contains an energy
that is driving forward. An Offering is a humble but beautiful tune full of texture and colour. We Walk in the Gardens of Our Ancestors shows clear eyed reverence for those who came before us as we walk through their gardens. Green Dreams is a tender, gentle love song to Seth’s wife.Where We've Been Is a group improvisation centered around the drums. Lunar Reflections is a romantic ode to nature that draws inspiration from where Seth lives a green oasis within the sprawling cityscapes of LA. Becoming draws on memories of the dark days of 2020 but this was a period that was also full of beauty and light and this song elevates and uplifts us. Finally New You offers hope of change

Going past musical genres and instead straight towards something more elemental - Selvhenter’s music creates a strikingly direct, physical experience of sound composed of polyrhythms, acoustic and electric melodies, heavy music and improvised beauty.

Since forming in Copenhagen in 2010, drummers Jaleh Negari and Anja Jacobsen, saxophonist Sonja LaBianca and trombonist Maria Bertel have forged a unique approach to making music that starts with their instrumental setup: two drummers that interlock as frequently as they go their own way, a trombone put through a bass amplifier loud enough to rattle your chest and a saxophone put through a range of effects so that it often sounds unrecognisable. Selvhenter work within their own idiom, drawing from the individual players’ personalities and interests to make a highly collective music, where all four musicians are absorbed into a total sound where an improvised free jazz approach collides with experimental electronic music and avant-garde noise/post-punk sonorities.

Their new LP Mesmerizer - which marks their first physical album release in nearly a decade and their debut on the French label Hands in the Dark - carries forward this process of exploration, deploying original and complex patterns of rhythm through various percussive instruments and finely textured horns and synths. The attention to sonic details is also almost pushed to an extreme on this new offering, making the open auditory adventure suggested by the title of the album all the more captivating. These creative developments have brilliantly kept Selvhenter’s music alive to new uncharted moods and possibilities, while at the same time strengthening their core elements: a propulsive, dense and often ecstatic music.

A kind of hush pervades throughout Standards Vol VI, the latest release by The National Jazz Trio of Scotland, the ironically named project helmed by Falkirk’s musical polymath, Bill Wells, that is neither a trio, nor a jazz band. If this collection of ten covers probably comes closest to the latter in its late night renditions of actual standards, the presence of long-term NJToS member and collaborator Aby Vulliamy as the record’s lone vocalist adds to its solitary air. This follows Standards Vol IV (2018), which featured fellow NJToS co-founder Kate Sugden as primary vocalist, while Gerard Black, a member of the group since 2016, took centre stage in similar fashion on Standards Vol V (2019). Wells has long been a fan of Vulliamy, both of her work as a viola player with numerous collaborators, and as a singer.

Vulliamy played viola on Everything’s Getting Older, Wells’ 2011 collaboration with Arab Strap vocalist Aidan Moffat. Wells went on to play melodica on Vulliamy’s solo record, Spin Cycle, released on Karaoke Kalk in 2018. With the intent of producing the saddest heartbreak record ever made, Wells sourced a back catalogue of miniature epics, reinterpreting each tale of everyday yearning to make a canon of melancholy loungecore designed for nights in alone, if not always lonely. Beyond the concept of isolation behind Standards Vol VI, practical concerns added to the affair, with Wells recording backing tracks at home in Glasgow, while Vulliamy added her voice from her home in Yorkshire. The result on Standards Vol VI is a thing of quiet beauty that sees Wells and Vulliamy reimagine a panoply of pop classics in their own aloof sounding image.

Shades of Margo Guryan and Claudine Longet abound in Vulliamy’s delivery over Wells’ woozy, low-slung guitar and piano, with samples culled from a session with Teenage Fanclub’s Norman Blake. Little electronic percussive clicks and hisses lend things an even more otherworldly air on a record bookended by opener, Donovan’s proto hippy classic, Catch the Wind, and Dixieland miniature, Careless Love. The eight points in between take in a first half led by The Beatles’ normally jaunty We Can Work it Out, flipping the loveable mop-tops’ perky optimism for something more soul searching. This is followed by I Wish You Love, Albert Beach’s English language version of French songwriter Charles Trenet’s evergreen, Que reste-t-il de nos amours. The Bee Gees lost classic, To Love Somebody, is up next, with more impossible to answer questions coming in Why Can’t I?

The latter is a Rodgers and Hart composition that first appeared in the duo’s 1930 Broadway musical, Spring is Here, in which the show’s two heroines commiserate each other over their shared loneliness. Wells stumbled on the song in a tatty Rodgers and Hart songbook, which, like its subjects, had been left on the shelf before he and Vulliamy brought it in from the cold. The second half of Standards Vol VI leads with Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick’s much covered evocation of a pre dating app era from their 1964 hit musical, Fiddler on the Roof. This is followed by Billy Rose and Dave Dreyer’s showbiz staple (with Al Jolson also taking a credit), Me and My Shadow. While made famous by showbiz double acts ranging from Frank and Sammy to Robbie and Jonathan, here it flies decidedly solo. Johnny Mercer and Hoagy Carmichael’s Skylark comes next, a song inspired by Mercer’s yearning for Judy Garland. We hear ya, bub. The most downbeat take on Bacharach and David’s The Look of Love you’re ever likely to hear comes next, ushering in the short farewell of Careless Love, before the lights are turned out forever. Yeah, well. Whatever gets you through the night…

After performing at the same Boiler Room a cool decade ago and connecting through a love of the same genre-blurring sonics that have defined their respective careers to date, King Kashmere and Letherette were always destined to make music together.

It was only a matter of time.

And space.

As an artist who champions a dozen or so sounds, rooted in gripping pop culture aesthetics, genre-smashing production and impeccable versemanship, King Kashmere’s quest to perfect the unperfectable has seen him carve out a unique (and ever-shifting) point on the rap map.

Letherette are a duo; two school friends from Wolverhampton, with a rich release history spanning Ninja Tune and beyond, however, their current form fluxes and shifts with each creative endeavour (depending on where either they find themselves at any given fork in the road).

King Kashmere x Letherette’s collaborative EP represents something of a distillation process; avenues of thought and feeling presented as ‘TR3B’; a 7-track EP that feels more like a tapestry than a record, weighted in the experiments of the aforementioned decade, expertly presented for 2022 and beyond.

Ned Milligan is a New York based elementary school teacher and occasional musician. He’s behind the great small-run label Florabelle since 2015. This is his sixth solo album.

"My work in the past five years has been grounded in recording and playing outdoors, trying to communicate the meaning of being in a particular location and finding meaning in interacting with whatever sounds or elements are equally present. I'm still excited by all of it! This sense of purpose continues with Considerable and the most I could wish for is that the specificity of what I am doing and where I'm doing it manages to evoke something in anyone listening--a connection to their own environments and spaces. None of these pieces is strictly documentary or one-take in approach or composition, but I hope that the combination of processed and "factual" sounds achieve integrity."

chimes, singing drum, autoharp, field recordings, processing: Ned Milligan
campfire recording in "Sky Smokes & Electronics": Jerome Klap
additional percussion in "Mosey With Me": Rory Milligan
singing: graciously and anonymously donated

recorded mostly outdoors, sometimes indoors in York, Maine.

De Brassers were one of the most notorious bands in the Belgian new wave/punk history. With their no nonsense attitude they scared the shit out of the local catholic community of Hamont. De Brassers were a local mixture of the Sex Pistols (in the lowest gear) and Joy Division (they always performed a cover version of Joy Division’s Shadowplay), combining a criticism of bureaucracy and politics with experiences of psychological and existential tensions. The doomed sound they produced tells a lot about the dark atmosphere of the late seventies and early eighties: the fear of atomic bombs, cold war pessimism, police violence against squatters, the first cases of AIDS, and the grim years of Reagan & Thatcher.

This compilation takes you back to that time. All tracks from their first 7″ "En Toen Was Er Niets Meer” & their self-titled 12″, plus rare & unreleased tracks taken from various live performances & the cassette “Levend”. If you’re in for a raw slice of Belgian history let de Brassers immerse you in a cold wave of punk.

Selected by Jim O’Rourke for his Tone Glow list of 25 albums that “never got their due”, Org was founded in the early 90’s by Espen Jensen and Kjetil D Brandsdal who would later go on to variously record as Elektrodiesel, Noxagt and Ultralyd in the swirl of the highly active Norwegian underground. “Org" was the only album the pair recorded as a duo, pressed in a meagre edition of just over 100 copies which disappeared almost as soon as they were made, lodged in the memory of the select few who have managed to hear it in the years since.

Made up of three long tracks, the near 20-minute ‘001’ opens the album with an extended organ zone-out matched with scraping factory machinery saturated into a dense cloud of harmonic fuzz. There's something transcendental about the sound that intersects with microtonal Alice Coltrane (particularly the unfairly maligned organ-only edition of "Turiya Sings"), as well as Pauline Oliveros and Ramleh. It’s music that pulls you in subconsciously; before you know it, you're fixating on the uncomfortable grind of metal on metal, buried mechanical rhythms and liturgical organ vamps that wind between industrial cacophony and sacred ritual music. For its last few seconds, we go into a full death metal tearout that fades out before it takes full flight, a glorious wtf.

‘002’ connects between minimalist drone styles and shoegaze, distorting fuzzed organ into pliable, dreamlike warbles that end up sounding like Kevin Shields' ‘Loveless’-era glides, or even Sunn O))) at their most devotional. Never losing the numbing overdriven mettle, its a piece that sounds spiritually entwined with Matthew Bower's Skullflower - a minimalist re-reading of high-contrast guitar music that takes all the psychoacoustic power and none of the annoying posturing.

For ‘003’, subaqueous organ is joined by synth and drum machine, sounding like the inspirational spark for Religious Knives' screwed 'n chopped cosmic psychedelia. The choice of sounds links it to Antena's foundational electro samba recordings too, but the overwhelming drone - a constant on all three compositions - connects the music to minimalist spirituals that have simmered beneath the DIY/avant garde for decades.

‘Org’ sits heavy on the nerves with overproof levels of mulched amp worship and ungodly, palms-down organ chords and wheezing, bezonked lines of melodic thought. 25 years out of sight and marinading in the archives, with the benefit of hindsight we can better understand the role these sounds played in the development of music in the contemporary sphere. It’s an important piece of the puzzle, one that makes valuable connections that, over time, have looked progressively more faint.

In the mid-'60s, Albert Ayler found himself at the center of major transformations within jazz. On his albums for ESP-Disk', his delivery was radically aggressive and his tone blistering – aiming for something beyond the New Thing. His music would be further energized when (at the behest of John Coltrane) Bob Thiele signed him to Impulse! As Ayler told The Plain Dealer at the time, "It's not about notes anymore. It's a sound – a feeling. The approach we're taking will discontinue the use of the word 'jazz.'"

In Greenwich Village, Ayler's first LP on Impulse!, perfectly captures the Cleveland-born saxophonist's radiant intensity. Sourced from a pair of live engagements – February '67 at the Village Theatre on New York's Lower East Side and December '66 at the Village Vanguard – these recordings show an improved clarity in production and performance.

Both sets feature two basses (including Alan Silva and Henry Grimes) which allowed the ensemble to go in different harmonic directions while maintaining an organic unity. Of particular interest are "For John Coltrane," a tribute to Ayler's mentor who would pass later that year, and "Truth Is Marching In" where trumpeter Donald Ayler joins his brother to celebrate and ultimately deconstruct several jazz traditions to stunning effect.

Vibrant in sound and vision, Albert Ayler's In Greenwich Village is a landmark statement in free jazz and a career high-point for this truly original artist. Superior Viaduct is honored to present this classic album on vinyl for the first time domestically in 30 years.

From Alehouse to Playhouse Bjarte Eike and his barnstorming Barokksolistene capture the vital spark of Restoration London’s entertainment scene with a captivating new recording for Rubicon Classics! The Playhouse Sessions will be released on 23 September 2022 to coincide with Barokksolistene’s concert double-bill at London’s Southbank Centre.

‘A smattering of Purcell, dances from Playford’s Dancing Master, shanties, reels and ballads succumb to a nine-piece ensemble drawing on Baroque, jazz and folk styles for a no holds barred hooley of riotous improvisatory give and take,’ (BBC Music Magazine review of The Alehouse Sessions, August 2019)

London’s musicians, pushed in the 1650s, to the margins of society by order of Oliver Cromwell, found room for new forms of entertainment in city-centre taverns and alehouses. They remained there long after the restoration of the monarchy, performing sets of dances, theatre songs and bawdy ballads to audiences glad to be free from Puritan constraints on pleasure.

Norwegian violinist Bjarte Eike and his Barokksolistene have restored the spirit and substance of those long-forgotten performances with their Alehouse Sessions, hailed by The Times as ‘irresistible’ and ‘fabulously unrestrained’ by The Guardian. Five years ago the Norwegian violinist and his band scored a best-selling album with The Alehouse Sessions on Rubicon Classics. They return to the label with another compelling collection of music and words of the kind on offer more than three centuries ago at Henry Purcell’s favourite Westminster watering holes. The Playhouse Sessions, set for release on Rubicon Classics on 23 September 2022, reflects the uplifting energy and engaging emotional contrasts of Barokksolistene’s Alehouse performances.

“The album contains a sort of inner narrative that runs through the recording,” says Bjarte Eike. “It has become like a play in its own right, with each track being a small tale within a larger story.” The recording’s tracklist includes Eike’s beguiling arrangements of music from Purcell’s semi-opera The Fairy Queen and his own original compositions on words from the play on which it is based, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream; popular songs and ballads such as ‘The Irish Washerwoman’, ‘I often for my Jenny strove’ and ‘The Three Ravens’; tunes from Purcell’s welcome odes and stage shows, Come ye sons of art and Dido and Aeneas among them; the ‘Willow Song’ from Shakespeare’s Othello; Eike’s own voice in Puck’s monologue from Act 5 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream; and John Dowland’s sublime air ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’.

London’s theatres were closed at the start of the English Civil War in 1642 and remained shut until the Restoration. Alehouses offered redundant musicians, actors and dancers a place to scrape a precarious living and soon became their creative refuge. “Although a few surviving theatres reopened in 1660 with the return of Charles II, there was little money around to rebuild those that had been demolished,” observes Bjarte Eike. “And a generation of musicians had already found an audience in places like the Black Horse in Aldersgate Street. So popular were their alehouse sessions that Cromwell tried to abolish them! But they outlived him and became part of Restoration musical life.” The form of a Barokksolistene Alehouse, he adds, is like a creative room. “Within its framework I can frequently refurbish the show with new contents. The Playhouse project is likewise an extension of the ever-evolving Alehouse Sessions. Together they tell the story of music and theatre in London during Cromwell’s time and after the Restoration. Of course there’s an historical context to what we do. But there’s also the practical context – which is even more important to me – of connecting with a contemporary twenty-first century audience. An Alehouse / Playhouse performance is not something for the museum; it's about music made in the present moment, just as it was in the London alehouses of Purcell’s day -- with their playhouses annexed to the rear of the beer-drinking saloons. The encounter of musicians onstage and the audience in the hall is the real magic of it. We have to fuse the audience into the action of our performance!”

The Playhouse Sessions will be launched on Friday 23 September with a late-night concert at the Purcell Room and a post-concert Alehouse Session in the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Hall. Soprano Mary Bevan is set to join Eike and his Alehouse Boys for the first half of their Southbank Centre double-bill, offering unique interpretations of songs from Purcell shows and other hits from the late seventeenth-century London stage. “The Southbank Centre is a direct descendant of concerts given in the 1650s in the alehouses of London,” notes Eike. “These alehouses after all staged some of the world’s first public concerts. Later, after the Restoration, it became common for promoters to advertise alehouse concerts in the press and offer subscription tickets. Purcell and his fellow musicians were thus just as at home performing there as they were in the chambers of the royal court or in London’s new theatres.”

Bjarte Eike launched his Alehouse Sessions in company with like-minded musicians 15 years ago. The ensemble comprises a core of regular performers, all of whom have committed to memory a huge setlist of up to four hours of music. Typically they meet a day or so before a concert tour to share a meal and make music together; then next day, re-grouping thirty minutes before the show, they discover Eike’s select-menu for the evening. “That ensures that every show is fresh,” he notes. “I make sure we never repeat the same programme twice. It’s therefore essential to work with people who share my outlook and dare to adventure. We’re into a high-risk sport, with lots of traps and places where the unexpected appears - for good or for ill. And so the audience knows we’re vulnerable. But our skill is seen in how we re-act on the hoof to the unpredictable. That’s authenticity and honesty - and above all it’s a performance that’s genuine.”

Armed with a classical training and a background in folk music and improvisation, Bjarte Eike was drawn naturally to Early Music in all its stylistic variety. “I never really felt at home with only one genre,” he recalls. “Early Music allowed me to study profound, complicated compositions, but performing it has also opened up the chance of rebellion and uproar! Early music offers wide, multi-faceted areas of musical exploration for me. You find, for instance, links to different types of music wherever you look in seventeenth-century English repertoire. And I am fascinated by all these connections. They offer a foundation for the Alehouse Sessions and for all Barokksolistene performance more generally. Every member of the group plays, sings, dances and improvises without limitation. We’re all interested in the many different fields of being a stage performer and pushing hard at the ‘normal’ boundaries of what it means to be a classical musician.”

The apartheid boycott In the 80s, the world – rightly - stepped up its boycott against South Africa’s apartheid government. But this had unexpected and sometimes adverse consequences for South Africa’s music professionals and consumers. Musicians still needed to work live shows both at home and abroad, and to make and sell records. The youth still aspired to clubbing and partying at the weekend after hard, poorly paid jobs under the thumb of an oppressive government. Music was their sanctuary: specifically, African- American inspired soul, jazz, boogie, disco and funk. Unique diversity Producing musical excellence was nothing new for South Africa, even in the 80s: both traditional and jazz music of various genres had been performed, showcased and recorded for decades with the assistance of some of the most skilled and ingenious sound-engineers and producers in the world, the jazz players rivalling their American peers in many cases. But what makes Mzansi 80s popular music unique is that it had to – and for the most part, did- appeal to a multi-ethnic, multilingual population almost like no other in the world, for its geographical size. There may have been many tribal and political differences between Zulu, Sotho, Xhosa, Tsonga and others day-to-day, but when it came to the weekend, those differences often melted away for a while on the dancefloor. Paul Ndlovu had kwaZulu fans as well as Shangaan followers; Black Moses and the Soul Brothers had followers and fans with everyone..and so on. And everyone- detractors and lovers alike- were content to settle on the monicker ‘Bubblegum’ as a general description. Mzansi took disco- and slowed it down a bit.. ..exactly as 90s and early 2000s South African DJs and mixers took House- and slowed it down a bit to develop Kwaito, Gqom and – later – Amapiano. The Roland TR-707 sampler came along in 1985- at just the right time for the flowering of Mzansi disco and boogie. And in the artful hands of arrangers, engineers and producers such as Peter “Hitman’ Moticoe, whose work figures on several of the tracks here, it became something unique to South Africa. 'Yebo! Rare Mzansi Party Beats from Apartheid's Dying Years' compiled by John Armstrong is out BBE Music on x3 vinyl set in a gatefold sleeve, CD, and across digital platforms for download and streaming.

OVERVIEW:
Lip Filler is a project we’ve become so involved in that it’s basically completely taken over our lives. We’ve put every part of ourselves into the music that we write. It’s a projection of our living situation, how we’ve all changed as people over the past few years, and a reflection on the human aspect of us growing up in our flat together. What started out as a bunch of housemates pissing about in their living room getting noise complaints, has turned into something we are all so invested in and excited for.

When Belgian Adolphe Sax invented the saxophone in the mid-19th century, he could not have imagined what he had set in motion with his invention. Neither in classical music nor in military music did his new woodwind instrument find much appreciation. It was only long after his death that it became the most important instrument in jazz music via swinging big bands. It would probably have amazed Mr. Sax if he had been able to witness a young trio from Germany playing loudly against climate change and the lack of political consequences with two noisy saxophones and a drum set on a stage in front of the Reichstag in Berlin in front of more than 50,000 people jumping up and down during the climate strike in September 2021: BRASS RIOT.

The trio around Constantin von Estorff (Sax), Simon Sasse (Drums) and Carl Weiß (Sax) have been a band since their school days in Lüneburg. What started there as street music became a permanent and sought-after formation through the proximity to political initiatives, above all the Fridays-For-Future movement, and appearances at countless demonstrations. The band's name is slightly misleading, as "brass" in music refers to brass instruments such as the trumpet or tuba, even though most brass bands always include a saxophone. Moreover, the word "brass" means something in the German language, which in turn fits perfectly with this young, energetic trio: Fury.

On the heels of their debut album "Matschsafari" (2018), their second studio album "The Never Acting Story" is now released on Fun In The Church. The album title, in critical allusion to the world-famous fantasy book by Michael Ende, sums up well what the music of BRASS RIOT is about at its core: the possibility to get a noisy outlet for all the fury about the failed politics of the last decades and the frustrations and fears that go with it, and to free oneself from it for a moment. That this path has produced the wildest live music on this crisis-ridden planet is an irony of history - and certainly not the first time it has happened. It's no different in the jazz of Charlie Parker than in the songs of Patti Smith, the raps of Little Simz or the Afro-beat of Fela Kuti.

Musically, BRASS RIOT move more in the area of the melodic ska-pop of Madness, the fake jazz of the Lounge Lizards and contemporary rave brass ensembles like MEUTE between house music and electro beats. The fact that they have managed to politicize their sound so strongly over the years, despite all the party that goes with it, and without any song lyrics at all, is truly phenomenal.

Psych-rap enigma Onoe Caponoe returns with his fifth studio album ‘Concrete Fantasia’ on High Focus Records. In crystal clear communication with the mothership; littered with striking references to fantastical realms and uncommon lore, but very much anchored in the inner city blocks and smoggy roadsides that inform his everyday, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a dark fantasy tape that expertly blurs the lines between genres, tones, moods and character profiles.

Of this world and out-of-this-world perfectly poised; Onoe offering up escape portals, before quickly pulling the listener back in with wave-upon-wave of catdelix riptides. ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is something of a tug-of-war; peppering movie samples, vignettes and complex go-betweens tickling the senses, combining with a cacophony of mind-bending lyricism resulting in a singular journey, with Onoe confidently filling the shoes of both author and narrator.

Pinocchio ducking feds in the hood, an Ice King ruling over a frostbitten kingdom, The Cheshire Cat trying to clean up Alice’s act, sweet serenades to off-shore mermaids, the trials and tribulations of life in a haunted trap house, big booty witches, flying carpets and beyond, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a real trip through the imaginative mind of Onoe Caponoe. With an eclectic line-up of featured artists and productional talent propping up the fictional cast, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ has all the makings of an alt-rap odyssey for the ages.

Psych-rap enigma Onoe Caponoe returns with his fifth studio album ‘Concrete Fantasia’ on High Focus Records. In crystal clear communication with the mothership; littered with striking references to fantastical realms and uncommon lore, but very much anchored in the inner city blocks and smoggy roadsides that inform his everyday, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a dark fantasy tape that expertly blurs the lines between genres, tones, moods and character profiles.

Of this world and out-of-this-world perfectly poised; Onoe offering up escape portals, before quickly pulling the listener back in with wave-upon-wave of catdelix riptides. ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is something of a tug-of-war; peppering movie samples, vignettes and complex go-betweens tickling the senses, combining with a cacophony of mind-bending lyricism resulting in a singular journey, with Onoe confidently filling the shoes of both author and narrator.

Pinocchio ducking feds in the hood, an Ice King ruling over a frostbitten kingdom, The Cheshire Cat trying to clean up Alice’s act, sweet serenades to off-shore mermaids, the trials and tribulations of life in a haunted trap house, big booty witches, flying carpets and beyond, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a real trip through the imaginative mind of Onoe Caponoe. With an eclectic line-up of featured artists and productional talent propping up the fictional cast, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ has all the makings of an alt-rap odyssey for the ages.

Psych-rap enigma Onoe Caponoe returns with his fifth studio album ‘Concrete Fantasia’ on High Focus Records. In crystal clear communication with the mothership; littered with striking references to fantastical realms and uncommon lore, but very much anchored in the inner city blocks and smoggy roadsides that inform his everyday, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a dark fantasy tape that expertly blurs the lines between genres, tones, moods and character profiles.

Of this world and out-of-this-world perfectly poised; Onoe offering up escape portals, before quickly pulling the listener back in with wave-upon-wave of catdelix riptides. ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is something of a tug-of-war; peppering movie samples, vignettes and complex go-betweens tickling the senses, combining with a cacophony of mind-bending lyricism resulting in a singular journey, with Onoe confidently filling the shoes of both author and narrator.

Pinocchio ducking feds in the hood, an Ice King ruling over a frostbitten kingdom, The Cheshire Cat trying to clean up Alice’s act, sweet serenades to off-shore mermaids, the trials and tribulations of life in a haunted trap house, big booty witches, flying carpets and beyond, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a real trip through the imaginative mind of Onoe Caponoe. With an eclectic line-up of featured artists and productional talent propping up the fictional cast, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ has all the makings of an alt-rap odyssey for the ages.

We are absolute fans of Powel's work, no doubt, but what he have done for his frst vinyl in Seven Villas is something else, he goes beyond boundaries.
These four original tracks have no gendre, and this is something realy special. Powel always delivers the finest electronica, his album in All Day I Dream proves the techno craftsman he is.

Please take your time to listen to this excellent songs, and discover all the hidden details and messaged thay have, this is pure magic.

Director's note : "My encounter with Wild Dee, the main actor in DOUBLEPLUSUNGOOD, was a determining factor in the making of this film. Not only are we strongly influenced by the same literary atmospheres - Among them American authors like Harry Crews, Iceberg Slim, N.Tosches and Belgian horror author Jean Ray - we also share the same cinematic tastes - low budget cinema be it French, Japanese or Spanish. Our main aim was to recreate the spirit, and play with and even subvert, the codes of Exploitation cinema. We also share the same taste for Rock & Roll, as our parallel musical backgrounds show. We were both singers in emblematic Belgian rock bands of the 80's and 90's - Wild Dee in The Wild Ones and me with Marine (79/81 - 3 singles with Les Disques du Crepuscule) and La Muerte (84/94 - 6 albums with Pias). The film's soundtrack, inspired by Francois de Roubaix, John Carpenter, Lalo Shiffrin, is like its second layer of dialogue: the original compositions of Renaud Mayeur (winner of the Magritte 2013 Belgian cinema awards for best soundtrack) and of J-M Lederman (Fat Gadget, TheThe, ... ), Moaning Cities, Ashtoreth, The Nick Leonardo Orchestra, The Manarays, Jack'O'Roonie. " A further thing that brings us together is something that has been with us since childhood and that we Belgians call: Belgitude...

Repress!

Montreal’s eclectic producer CFCF (aka Mike Silver) follows 2019’s effusive corporate jungle opus Liquid Colours with a kaleidoscopic capital-E Electronica album that takes a range of styles from his earliest formative listening years (1997-2000) and throws them in a blender. Elements of jungle, house, UK garage, trance, pop and post-grunge are blended to form a glossy picture of restless youth in an
identity crisis: memoryland.

Inspired as much by Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins as the Chemical Brothers and Basement Jaxx; as much by films like Millennium Mambo, Demonlover, Morvern Callar, Safe and Perfect Blue as late 90’s Prada — CFCF jumps across genres as a means of portraying a breadth of overlapping milieus and identities in this hyperactive Y2K period-piece that both explores and criticizes our own nostalgic impulses. From the opening intro’s announcement of arrival to the final credits, it’s an album as film as RPG, with the listener as its protagonist.

Opener “welcome.WAV” functions as a start-up sound file for the journey ahead: from “Life is Perfecto”, a propulsive breakbeat-dreampop hybrid, to a grotesquely-remixed ultra-French-house version of previously released single “Self Service”, and the recursive, metaphysical garage of “After the After”. Two guest vocalists lend their talents: Montreal neo-shoegaze icons No Joy, fresh off their own genre-defying Y2K exploration Motherhood, laconically lists off advice for aspiring fashion ingenues with bite in the alt-rock-IDM “Model Castings”, while Kero Kero Bonito’s Sarah Bonito sweetly delivers the penultimate “Heaven”, grunge-pop paean to the myth of Icarus.

In CFCF’s words:
“I was feeling fatigued by an overabundance of ‘calming’, productivity-oriented music, and wanted to explore something angsty, messy, and dark, while also applying a pop sheen. I see a loose narrative across the album: your early 20’s, a new city, new people, new temptations and new traps. Losing your sense of self to the whims of your surroundings and trends in music and fashion; the wrong people, and trying to dig yourself out of that hole. There’s a hope of moving forward that glimmers in the last quarter of the album, but it’s out of reach and seems to come at a price. And then the looking back on it later with perspective; or the looking forward to it before with anticipation. As a kid I couldn’t wait to be in my 20’s; in my 30’s it’s bittersweet to look back. That’s the core of memoryland: the gulf between the fantasy, the reality, and the memory, and how we live inside each of those at different points.”

Three years after his last album ‘I Need Space’, Mounika. is back on his favorite playground: electronic music, which arouses his curiosity since his beginnings. He is now ready to unveil ‘Don't Look At Me’, a new opus that takes us, by other paths, to his unique universe. Recorded during the confinement in the intimacy of his home studio, the French artist reveals little by little another facet of his artistic personality, more raw and affirmed, without totally abandoning the cottony sounds already proposed on titles like ‘Cut My Hair’ (diamond single) or ‘Tender Love’ (gold single). We discover sensitive compositions, still inspired by his love for trip-hop, piano and artists who made his musical culture during his youth: Moby, Ratatat, Air or Bonobo. After all, a Mounika. album without a tribute to these figures is not really an album...

But something new was needed to distinguish this opus from the previous ones. From the very first tracks, we can clearly feel this need for exploration that has always guided the French producer. ‘BonXair’ or ‘Nomadics’ take us, for example, in a more straight electronic, more heady than usual. In the same spirit, the rhythms close to the deep house of a track like ‘See You Dancing In The Dark’ offer to the album a new direction, and yet is quite representative of the work undertaken by Mounika. these last years.

In this new record that will also satisfy the fans of the first hour (a sample loop well felt, as on ‘Little Love’ or ‘I Looked Into Her Eyes’, always makes its effect), the French artist has also opened to collaborations of choice. Mounika. works on the heart, and thus wished to welcome those who have particularly marked him during his more or less recent discoveries. The American artist Roland Faunte lends his voice to the effective ‘Little Love’, while Ural Thomas & The Pain (discovered notably on the series ‘It's Bruno’) takes care of the chorus of ‘I Looked Into Her Eyes’. The British rapper Lord Apex delivers a spellbinding performance on ‘Memories’.

Finally, if you listen carefully, you can even hear Mounika. singing on some tracks... like ‘20’ or ‘Don't Smoke’. Put together, these appearances perfectly complement the energy transcribed by Mounika. throughout ‘Don't Look At Me’.

And what could be better than an amazing graphic universe to open the doors of this album like no other? Meet Carl & TJ, two cartoonish characters created in collaboration with Berlin-based artist Joe Taylor, who take care of guiding the listener through this new adventure. One is dreamy and contemplative, the other asks himself a lot of questions... and between them, they form a colorful duet illustrating with tenderness the universal emotions that punctuate this third opus, and that Mounika. will notably defend in the first part of Wax Tailor's French tour starting next April.

The successive pianos composing the productions of ‘When In My Heart In Your Heart’ then ‘Outro’ come, at the end of the record, to conclude the setting in orbit proposed by this ‘Don't Look At Me’. One more step in the sensory journey that Mounika. is committed, from the intimacy of her room to the international success, to build relentlessly.

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.

On October 24th only Jimmy Bond was still with Chet : Peter littman had returned to America, and his seat was now accupied by Nils-Bertil ‘Bert’ Dahlander, a Swedish drummer who’d accompanied Lars Gullin. At the Keyboard was an almost-unknown pianist named Gérard Gustin who’d just been signed to a contract by Eddie Barclay. Given the context, they were obliged to fall back on standards. Chet knew how to play these better than anyone. He chose eight : ‘These Foolish Things’, wich stayed in his quartet’s répertoire for a while ; five others, wich the trumpeter performs here for the first time – ‘There’s a Small Hotel, Autumn In New York, Summertime, You Go To My Head, Tenderly – and two – I’ll Remember April and Lover Man – that he’d done less than tend ays earlier together with Lars Gullin and Dick Twardzik, whose disappearance was still something Chet refused to accept. Given this state of affairs, the whole session exudes a kind of sadness that’s impossible to put down, whatever the choice of tune or tempo.

Never before had Chet been as totally moving as he is throughout ‘You Go To My Head’.

Aptly named, Tranquilizer is a potent, six track EP from Brazilian producer Felix. As part of Piratao Records; a label that merges everything from baile funk, to electro and techno, Mutual Pleasure is a fitting home for the electric nature of Felix’s sound; something that is fully exercised in this EP.

Tranquilizer is a mind-expanding selection of dynamic tracks. Unrelenting, with a deeply contagious energy that acts as the engine to this project. It is entirely soaked with acid, and layered with a plethora of squelching basslines, manipulated Brazilian Vocals and trance-infused synths and melodies.

Felix coordinates a masterful blend of dark, gruelling tones, with funk-fuelled flavours of his native Brazil: an electrifying and devastating marriage that sets this Ep in motion. While tracks like Alpha Helix bring forward a more trance-ladened side to his sound, the devious breakbeat and infectious vocals of Ta Pegando Fogo bring a cutting edge to his undefinable sound.

Within this searing melting pot of genres and influences, Felix traverses from dark dubstep, to four-to-the-floor techno, and everywhere in between. It is a suitably devilish project, and a statement of his ever-evolving musical personality.

Egyptian-Australian DJ/producer moktar announces his second boundary-pushing five track EP, ‘Immigrant’. An expressive and considered journey that combines his Middle Eastern heritage and influential club sounds in one.

‘Immigrant’ sees moktar continue to bring traditional Arabic instrumentation into the club by weaving samples like polyrhythmic drumming and the Arabic Oud into experimental club music which has captured the attention of many tastemakers. Giant Swan, Anz, Tash LC, Raji Rags, Jamie XX, Bonobo, Groove Armada, Hudson Mohawke, Mary Anne Hobbs and Jamz Supernova all championed his highly favoured self-titled EP in 2021, which topped the Australian community radio charts as a number #1 most played alongside the global support it received. The release represented re-learning the value of his Egyptian heritage following racism and stereotyping growing up. ‘Immigrant’ expands on the story.

Debut single ‘Immigrant’ was released in September and served as a backdrop for moktar to air the stories of many as well as his own, told through a chopped vocal sample of Arsenal Football Club’s host and hype man, Frimpon. ‘North Africa’ and ‘Al-Duqqi’ are a homage to moktar’s roots. ‘Crossroads’ represents his need to push himself and grow in life and music, and ‘Send it’ (a term in Australia that means you're about to do something wild) also aims to represent Middle Eastern communities in Bankstown, Sydney.

moktar explains - “Through Immigrant I wanted to highlight the struggle many people all over the world go through to be accepted, while representing the community in Egypt, North Africa and Australia. Fusing Middle Eastern sounds into sounds into my music has been a big part of helping me become proud of who I am. I feel passionate about bringing these sounds to a wider audience in the hope it helps others in the identity struggle feel a sense of pride too”

The EP falls just as moktar’s highly anticipated debut EU tour comes to a close, playing b2b with DJ Plead at Phonox for Yung Singh, Adaptations Festival, Repercussions Festival, Werkhaus Festival, b2b with Mr Scruff at Field Day, Lost Village, Amsterdam for ADE with Kode 9, Rex Club in Paris, and Takseer festival Berlin.