quête:jere

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Mechanisms of Omniscience - a brutal and unrelenting journey through technical death metal, returns to the market as a special vinyl reissue, brought to you by our newly established record label. Originally released by Abnormality in 2016, this album has left a lasting mark on the genre with its punishing riffs, precise technicality, and intense lyrical content. Abnormality explores profound and provocative themes in every track, addressing existentialism, corruption, and the darker side of human nature. This is an album that defies genre expectations, marrying complex arrangements with raw aggression. Abnormality, a force hailing from Massachusetts, has carved a niche within extreme metal for its signature blend of technical prowess and relentless heaviness. Led by the fierce vocals of Mallika Sundaramurthy, the band is complemented by the exceptional talents of guitarist Jeremy Henry, bassist Josh Staples, and drummer Jay Blaisdell. Together, they create a sound that is as precise as it is punishing, offering fans a visceral experience in each performance. This reissue celebrates the lasting impact of Mechanisms of Omniscience while paying homage to Abnormality’s powerful contribution to metal.

Mechanisms of Omniscience - a brutal and unrelenting journey through technical death metal, returns to the market as a special vinyl reissue, brought to you by our newly established record label. Originally released by Abnormality in 2016, this album has left a lasting mark on the genre with its punishing riffs, precise technicality, and intense lyrical content. Abnormality explores profound and provocative themes in every track, addressing existentialism, corruption, and the darker side of human nature. This is an album that defies genre expectations, marrying complex arrangements with raw aggression. Abnormality, a force hailing from Massachusetts, has carved a niche within extreme metal for its signature blend of technical prowess and relentless heaviness. Led by the fierce vocals of Mallika Sundaramurthy, the band is complemented by the exceptional talents of guitarist Jeremy Henry, bassist Josh Staples, and drummer Jay Blaisdell. Together, they create a sound that is as precise as it is punishing, offering fans a visceral experience in each performance. This reissue celebrates the lasting impact of Mechanisms of Omniscience while paying homage to Abnormality’s powerful contribution to metal.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Actual Earth Music - Volume 1 & 2’ presents two caustic, yet alluringly unreal live sets from Canadian noise-rock entropy hunters Earth Ball. Following on from the group’s critically appraised ‘It’s Yours’ LP (released 2024 on Upset The Rhythm - UTR164) this release captures the band at the peak of their powers, playing live, composing spontaneously.
Side A features Earth Ball live at The Fox Cabaret in Vancouver, supporting Wolf Eyes on August 4, 2023. Jeremy Van Wyck from the band considers this “the gig that sent us into orbit, really. Causing Olson & Young to wax poetic about our interstellar jams to a fine bloke across the big sea. Upsetting our casual rhythm and forcing our hand. All that talk led to an LP, ‘It’s Yours’, and a full UK tour the following spring”.
Now, with the birth of this live series ‘Actual Earth Music’, it seems only fitting that Volume 1 should be this gig. It’s a doozy. Listening back is a pure revelation. Earth Ball whip up a vortex of thrashing wild energy, the ecstatic release is off the charts. “You don’t always catch every nuance of the jams as they come down. I mean, this one felt good, but upon listening back to the tapes, it sounded very good” confides Jeremy. “It reminded me of Von Trier’s Melancholia: the sound of a large sphere coming toward you to bring doom. However, this one reverses course, heading away to some other shore, bathing you in reflective bliss before saying goodbye—instead of ending humanity as we know it”.
Volume 2 occupies Side B of this LP, showcasing a collaborative summit from the second night of their recent Café OTO residency on May 21, 2024. This event featured Earth Ball laying down three separate sets—all collaborations. This second recording presents their opening performance and features pivotal UK improv luminary Steve Beresford on piano and free-jazz phenomenon Chris Corsano on drums.
Running Time: 42 mins

Das neue Album beschäftigt sich nicht nur mit der üblichen Kriegsthematik, sondern die Songs von "Landkrieg" kreisen um den 30-jährigen Krieg, der die deutschen Lande von 1618 bis 1648 verwüstete und noch bis heute prägt. Auf "Landkrieg" bleiben SCALPTURE ihren tödlichen Wurzeln treu, aber der Schliff durch die endlosen Stunden auf Tour, zahlreiche Shows und viele Tage und Nächte sowohl im Proberaum als auch im Hellforge Studio haben ihren Sound hörbar nachgeschärft. Die neuen Songs sind brachial, hammerhart und 100% Death Metal, aber sie lassen auch Raum für Abwechslung und spannende Wendungen. Als SCALPTURE im Jahr 2009 in Bielefeld ins Leben gerufen wurden, hatte Gitarrist Felix Marbach als Gründer bereits eine klare Vision: Die musikalische Ausrichtung sollte kompromisslos dem klassischen Death Metal folgen, aber gleichzeitig sollte die Band in jeder Hinsicht ihren eigenen Stil entwickeln. Alle bisherigen Albumtitel von SCALPTURE beziehen sich auf den Krieg, den die Band zu ihrem wichtigsten lyrischen Thema gemacht hat. Ohne Glorifizierung und Stereotypen, stützen sich die Texte auf detaillierte historische Recherchen und schildern die Schrecken des Krieges, der viele Länder dieser Welt bereits in den Abgrund gerissen hat. Trotz ihres Themas vertreten SCALPTURE moderne Werte wie Toleranz, Frieden und Vernunft. SCALPTURE entfesseln einen neuen musikalischen "Landkrieg" und lassen der Welt nur zwei Möglichkeiten: Kapitulation oder die Schädel schütteln!

Somehow familiar yet strange and uncharted too; you, infinite is a project born of a creative friendship spanning three decades, newly rekindled to produce a record of breathtaking majesty that speaks of lived experience and exciting potential. you, infinite reunites Jeremy Galindo and Raymond Brown, founders of acclaimed instrumental outfit This Will Destroy You, in a new collaborative project.

Somehow familiar yet strange and uncharted too; you, infinite is a project born of a creative friendship spanning three decades, newly rekindled to produce a record of breathtaking majesty that speaks of lived experience and exciting potential. you, infinite reunites Jeremy Galindo and Raymond Brown, founders of acclaimed instrumental outfit This Will Destroy You, in a new collaborative project.

Since their breakout 2012 self-titled debut album, the Lumineers have achieved some incredible milestones: twenty-four number one hits, billions of streams, packed global arena tours, multi-platinum releases, Grammy nominations, and, most important to core members Jeremiah Fraites and Wesley Schultz, numerous beloved, timeless songs. The band's fifth studio album ‘Automatic’, is being released in a music landscape that has become dominated by solo artists dependent on other writers. Schultz says being one of the few groups touring who write all their own material, is "a unique badge of honor." But that's not to say they won't collaborate with other artists; Schultz and Fraites have recently written and appeared on songs with pop icon P!nk, as well as rising singer-songwriters James Bay and Zach Bryan.

"Recorded in Jeremy Loops' home studio in Cape Town, South Africa ‘Feathers and Stone’ is an organic response to a world increasingly shaped by digital and artificial sounds, and showcases Jeremy's depth as an artist and a songwriter.

Following on from critically acclaimed albums Trading Change (2014), Critical As Water (2018) and Heard You Got Love (2022), ‘Feathers and Stone’ reflects the balance between heaviness and lightness by mixing both uplifting melodious music with melancholic moments, sophisticated guitar licks and vocal turns. Produced by Will Hicks (Ed Sheeran, Lilly Allen, Bastille), Loops hopes that listeners will feel the depth and honesty in all eleven tracks on the record.

After previous collaborations with industry luminaries like Ed Sheeran, Steve Mac and Edd Holloway, this album includes collaborations with South African choral group and five time Grammy Award Winners, Ladysmith Black Mombazo on the single ‘Coming Home’ and prolific German born folk/pop duo, Amistat on ‘Loveblood’, a powerful and euphoric track which found its feet while they toured through Europe and South Africa with Jeremy.

Previously, Jeremy Loops carved a niche for himself through electrifying live performances, progressing from small bars to selling out 5000-seat arenas globally and earning him accolades and awards at the South African Music Awards and MTV Africa's Best Alternative Artist award and & Best Pop Album."

"Recorded in Jeremy Loops' home studio in Cape Town, South Africa ‘Feathers and Stone’ is an organic response to a world increasingly shaped by digital and artificial sounds, and showcases Jeremy's depth as an artist and a songwriter.

Following on from critically acclaimed albums Trading Change (2014), Critical As Water (2018) and Heard You Got Love (2022), ‘Feathers and Stone’ reflects the balance between heaviness and lightness by mixing both uplifting melodious music with melancholic moments, sophisticated guitar licks and vocal turns. Produced by Will Hicks (Ed Sheeran, Lilly Allen, Bastille), Loops hopes that listeners will feel the depth and honesty in all eleven tracks on the record.

After previous collaborations with industry luminaries like Ed Sheeran, Steve Mac and Edd Holloway, this album includes collaborations with South African choral group and five time Grammy Award Winners, Ladysmith Black Mombazo on the single ‘Coming Home’ and prolific German born folk/pop duo, Amistat on ‘Loveblood’, a powerful and euphoric track which found its feet while they toured through Europe and South Africa with Jeremy.

Previously, Jeremy Loops carved a niche for himself through electrifying live performances, progressing from small bars to selling out 5000-seat arenas globally and earning him accolades and awards at the South African Music Awards and MTV Africa's Best Alternative Artist award and & Best Pop Album."

Over the past half century, Tony Levin has been a prolific session player and one of the most active live performers on the planet. He’s contributed his talents to over five hundred albums amongst which include 15 with Peter Gabriel and 18 with King Crimson (counting live, studio, and compilations) alongside contributions to the work of John Lennon, Alice Cooper, Lou Reed, Herbie Mann, Paul Simon and many others. On tour, he’s traveled the World many times over with the aforementioned King Crimson, Peter Gabriel, and several of his own bands including Stick Men
.
This Fall, he’ll stage 65 performances in North America as a member of BEAT, celebrating King Crimson’s ‘80s repertoire alongside Adrian Belew, Steve Vai and Danny Carey interpreting “Discipline, Beat and Three of a Perfect Pair.”

Levin’s seventh solo album, and his first since 2007, is an autobiography of sorts, with the themes drawn from Levin’s musical life. It features a myriad of collaborators from his half-century-plus on the road and in the studio with Peter Gabriel, King Crimson and many, many others.

Features a Murderer’s Row of guest musicians including Robert Fripp, Vinnie Colaiuta, Earl Slick, Mike Portnoy, Steve Gadd, Jerry Marotta, Gary Husband, L. Shankar, Pete Levin, Jeremy Stacey, David Torn, Pat Mastelotto, Larry Fast, Steve Hunter, Manu Katche, Alex Foster, Dominic Miller, Markus Reuter, Collin Gatwood, Chris Pasin, Jay Collins, Josh Shpak, Don Mikkelsen.

The Gentle Spring are a new group, formed by Michael Hiscock, Emilie Guillaumot and Jérémie Orsel. Michael has an illustrious pop history, having been a founder member of The Field Mice, possibly the most beloved band on Sarah Records in the 1990s. And with The Gentle Spring, it seems that history is repeating itself…

When Michael and his friend Bobby Wratten formed The Field Mice, the two of them very quickly created a set of songs whose emotional honesty, raw guitars and perfect pop melodies pierced the hearts of a generation of indiepop fans, kids who were unmoved by the posturing of mainstream indie, and who didn’t want to spend time in fields dancing at 24-hour raves. The Field Mice were the band who defined the meaning and the spirit of Sarah Records. Defiantly in love with pop, defiantly un-macho, defiantly…sensitive. And now, remarkably, Michael has done it again. With his new musical partner Emilie, The Gentle Spring have created a fresh new iteration of indiepop music. Once again, the songs are unafraid of raw emotions, brutally honest and is still in love with big pop melodies.

They are still….sensitive. But life is seen through a different lens now. There is wisdom, there is experience, and there is the ability to look back at the world with a mixture of regret and joy. These are very adult songs, and the arrangements reflect this. Rich acoustic guitars and Emilie’s haunting keyboard have replaced hectic drum machines and urgent distortion. And there is a third element to this music. Jérémie Orsel’s sophisticated guitar adds textures and melodies that give these songs a real depth, while maintaining an enigmatic distance, never quite overwhelming the vocal line. So things are clearer now.

But feelings are just as strong. The pain of unrequited love that made Field Mice songs so poignant hasn’t gone away. In some ways, the thought of roads not taken is more profound when experienced in retrospect. I Can’t Have You As A Friend entertains this notion, still moved by the allure of a different life, but shuddering with fear at what might have happened. Also still haunted by the past, The Girl Who Ran Away conjures up the ghost of a previous failed relationship, which threatens to undermine happiness in the present. In Severed Hearts, sung by Emilie, there is the stark recognition that some endings really are final: sometimes there can be no reconciliations. But the song cleverly moves on from this: it acknowledges that, even after the worst emotional loss, you have to pick yourself, you will move on. It’s sophisticated and it’s mature – but it will still break your heart. Sugartown is another song that plays this trick on you. It insists that there will always be lightness and shade. It warns you against complacency, but does it so kindly that you feel like you’ve been embraced. When Michael’s and Emilie’s vocals combine in the final chorus, telling us that we don’t live in Sugartown, you know they are right – and yet the sweetness of the singing makes you feel that – just for a moment – you do.the band perform as a trio and have already found a keen audience in France, where they are based. During a short tour of the UK in January, to coincide with this release, British audiences will get their first opportunities to see The Gentle Spring play these new songs live

A secret love letter concerning the new Bambounou and Priori collaboration has been delivered...

“Darling,

I’ve been thinking about how beautifully our love has come together, like a song crafted with care and passion. It reminds me of a melody written by Jeremy Guindo and Francis Latreille, every moment we share feels like it was meant to be, perfectly aligned, just like their music.

From the moment we met, you’ve been my crush, the one who makes my heart race and my world brighter. Our love is full of tenderness and understanding, much like the way each song was carefully mixed at Jump Source Studios. Every word we say, every look we exchange, blends together to create something truly special.

Like a song polished by Nik Kozub, our love has grown stronger and clearer with time, resonating in my heart with pure, unwavering devotion. And just like an art piece, our journey together has been beautifully designed, every detail carefully shaped by the hands of fate, much like the work of Dimitri Erhard and Janic Fotsch.
You are my melody, my rhythm, my everything. With you, life is a beautiful serenade, and I can’t wait to keep writing it. I love you more than words can express, and I always will.

Yours forever,

Crush"

SML is bassist Anna Butterss (Jeff Parker, Daniel Villarreal, Makaya McCraven), synthesist Jeremiah Chiu (Ariel Kalma, Marta Sofia-Honer), saxophonist Josh Johnson (Jeff Parker, Makaya McCraven, Nate Mercereau, Marquis Hill), percussionist Booker Stardrum (Amirtha Kidambi, Carl Stone, Lee Ranaldo, Patrick Shiroishi), and guitarist Gregory Uhlmann (Sam Wilkes, Meg Duffy, Perfume Genius). Their debut album Small Medium Large began as a collection of long-form improvisations recorded during two

separate two-night stands at beloved Highland Park venue ETA, a major development site for the burgeoning new LA jazz & improvised music sound, which unfortunately closed its doors permanently at the end of 2023.

The venue, perhaps best known outside of LA for Jeff Parker’s 2022 album Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy, was the perfect location for the start of SML, especially given that both bassist Anna Buterss and saxophonist Josh Johnson are in the quartet featured on that record. Small Medium Large was engineered and recorded in stereo direct to Nagra by Bryce Gonzales and compiled, arranged, and edited with additional production, recording, and
studio composition by SML.

While editing, chopping, and rearranging stereo mixed improvisations is hardly a new concept (for a modern and relevant example we can look to Makaya McCraven’s output on IARC) these results are a stunning expansion of the Teo Macero / Miles Davis editing concept explored on classics like Bitches Brew, On The Corner, and Get Up With It. Stylistically though, these recordings have more in common with the proto trance repetitions of Harmonia, and with Holgar Czukay’s re-assemblage technique used in his work with Can. Throw in a supremely intuitive utilization of Susumu Yokota’s floating patterns polyrhythm concept and we have a truly entrancing take on time-clocked electronic rhythms augmenting with live percussion, yet maintaining that elusive human sway.

Destroy All Neighbors is a twisted splatter-comedy about a deranged journey of self-discovery full of goopy practical FX, a well-known ensemble cast, and LOTS of blood. William Brown (Jonah Ray Rodrigues), is a neurotic, self-absorbed musician determined to finish his prog-rock magnum opus, facing a creative roadblock in the form of a noisy and grotesque neighbor named Vlad (Alex Winter).

He finally works up the nerve to demand that Vlad keep it down, and William inadvertently decapitates him. But, while attempting to cover up one murder, William's accidental reign of terror causes victims to pile up and become undead corpses who torment and create more bloody detours on his road to prog-rock Valhalla. The soundtrack is an infectious slice of progressive rock cues, EDM freakouts, 80’s synth pop and so much more by the brilliant Ryan Kattner & Brett Morris. Released in conjunction with SUB POP Records, and features an original song by MAN MAN, artwork by Johnny Dombrowski, and pressed on coloured vinyl.