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sychedelic hard-rock Holy Grail, originally released by this Greek band in 1976 but sounding more akin to late 60s / early 70s.
Highly recommended to fans of HEAVY-FUZZ guitars, think DARK, FIRE, OPEN MIND or even SPACEMEN 3 circa “Revolution”!
The 4 Levels Of Existence (Τα 4 Επίπεδα Της Ύπαρξης) formed around 1974 in Athens from the ashes of a band called
Frog’s Eyes. Some of their influences were groups like Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Who or Iron Butterfly as well as traditional Greek music.
They recorded their sole album in just 10 hours with no overdubs and it was eventually released (500 copies only) on the small Venus label. The cover artwork was created by guitar player Athanasios Alatas. The band sadly split soon after but they left behind one of the most legendary and sought after albums not only from Greece but also from the worldwide heavy-prog scene.

In 2006, Danger Mouse is King Midas of the music world. He has an uncanny knack for creating jagged, dense, frenzied beats and odd, eerie, vivid soundscapes that never compromise the music's natural flow. Meanwhile, rapper and singer Cee-Lo, a veteran of Atlanta's Dirty South scene, has never been one to be constrained by hip-hop conventions, and is a willing partner in adventure. The result is an intrepid psychedelic blend of pop, hip-hop, soul, and rock that consistently challenges and delights. It's no wonder that "Crazy," with its modest riff, irresistible hook, and disarming opening line ("I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind") became a worldwide Internet sensation a full six months before the official release of St. Elsewhere. But that relatively simple soul-pop gem is the tamest track on this wide-ranging, often dark and introspective collaboration. (In fact, the duo considers Gnarls Barkley to be a wholly new creation, as opposed to a collaboration of existing artists.) "Everybody is somebody, but nobody wants to be themselves," Cee-Lo croons on "Who Cares?" He and Danger Mouse try very hard not to be their old selves as they creatively and confidently break down boundaries, but the brilliant cores of their musical personae Cee-Lo's eccentric spiritual soul man and Danger's bold sonic explorer remain. Marc Greilsamer.

Hen & Goose number five arrives just in time for summer: Cologne’s Júlio Cruz continues his labels catalogue with another solo ep containing 4 club-fueled deep house cuts.

Get In Where You Fit In, was originally released in October of 1993 and would be his fourth album in a row to be certified platinum. Production was handled by Ant Banks and The Dangerous Crew, which featured live instrumentation, incorporated P Funk samples, and G Funk synths. The lead single "I'm a Player" sampled Bootsy Collins' funky bass of "Hollywood Squares" and Quincy Jones' son QDIII produced the epic Bay Area G Funk laden classic track "Just Another Day". And it wouldn't be a Too $hort record without some pimp and sex tales like "Blow Job Betty", "All My Bitches Are Gone" and the upbeat "Gotta Get Some Lovin". Bay Area legends Spice 1, Ant Banks, and Mhisani aka Goldy join in on the posse cut "The Dangerous Crew" followed by a track with more Bay Area legends Rappin' Ron and Ant Diddley Dog dissin' ex Dangerous Crew member MC Pooh on the title track. Get On Down has repressed this Too $hort 90's fan favorite album on Purple-In-Clear Colored Vinyl.

"World of Pooh immensely brightened the dark corners of San Francisco, California during the years 1983-1990, with their most recognized guise being the MMF trio that existed & thrived during the years 1986-1990. This is the lineup you’ll hear documented on this exceptional collection of 45s, compilation tracks and assorted ephemera. The band has ranged from being a footnote for some (“is that the band Barbara Manning was once in?”) to a fondly-regarded memory for others (“the Land of Thirst album is a forgotten classic”) to a turnstile, door-opening band for still others — like me. They arrived in my life as they were slowly exiting theirs, and I eagerly attended a half-dozen shows of theirs circa 1989-90 around San Francisco moments after I moved there. They were instantly my favorite local band, one I was instantly duty-bound to see whenever & wherever they played. Their jagged and discombobulated take on underground pop music was exceptionally fertile, feral and fetching, and it served as a personal gateway drug that flowered my own appreciation for many different kinds of subtle musical tension.
I also spent at least five glorious years watching Jay Paget, who drummed for World of Pooh and later the Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, ply his rhythmic trade with much aplomb. He was always a steady hand behind the musical wheel of innovative bands who often threatened to careen off course. And I’ll admit to an untoward admiration of (and fascination with) World of Pooh founder, guitarist and singer Brandan Kearney from the moment I met the guy. Not only was he exceptionally friendly and welcoming to a carpetbagging interloper quickly trying to horn in on his scene (me), he was at once one of the most quick-witted, self-deprecating, highly intelligent & musically conversant people I’d ever met. Everything he and his band were doing, along with the mind-boggling DIY gunk he was pushing through his record label, Nuf Sed, and via his multiple other bands (among them: Caroliner & Archipelago Brewing Company, with several more to follow), made me extremely curious and not a tiny bit jealous about these wiser, weirder and musically more daring freaks who were making art, love & war in the relatively grittier & non-gentrified San Francisco of the day.
What I’ve learned in the 35 years since the band broke up is just how highly regarded they were (and remain) by not only those who saw them, but by a now-considerably larger group of humans who’ve subsequently heard & loved their records. I know that their place in the late 1980s was a small but special one, and I’ve seen plenty of online clamoring for more, more, more about this ephemeral and poorly-documented band. And rightly, here it is, lovingly assembled: their two hard-to-come-by 45s, a handful of comp tracks, and a quartet of phenomenal songs just coming to light for the first time, including that Half Japanese cover that dimly existed in my memory as a live song they naturally pulled off with sangfroid, from a time and space when we were all a little younger. - Jay Hinman"

Keys To The World, Richard Ashcroft's third solo album, landed in January 2006 and quickly crept like a mile-a-minute vine to number two, whereto it clung for some time. Produced by long-time collaborator Chris Potter, it marks the former Verve frontman's last solo full-length for ten years, before its later supersession by 2016's These People. The LP leans heavy on orchestration, its string arrangements by Julian Kershaw performed by the London Met Orchestra, and electric viola parts from Bruce White sallying over its songwritten entirety. Sonically, Ashcroft dialled down the bombasticity of earlier outings for an analgesic, string-swept sound, dividing the lauds: praised by some for its melodic clarity maturer songwriting, others found it all too safe, though that didn't stop it going Platinum in the UK.

Meet The Mechanic: Tom Ries, formerly one of Offenbach’s groove technicians, now based in Berlin, delivers three stripped house tunes designed for full dancefloor function. Known for his role in the Pager Records orbit and his dry, deadpan charm (in both music and manners), each piece here hums with twitchy funk, stripped-down functionality, and just enough mischief under the hood. We first hit him up as fans. A year later, The Mechanic is ready to roll. Built by hand, tested in clubs, and delivered with a grin.

Brera Groove returns with its second vinyl release, Brera Groove 002, a various artists collection blending late ’70s disco with the early shimmer of Italodisco. Brera Groove, curated by Tamati and inspired by the artistic soul of Milan’s Brera district, expands here with contributions from Luksek & Lucio Balla, The Rejected, and Lillo Carillo, each bringing their own twist to the sound. Grooves, rhythms, and sparkling synths drive an EP made for the dancefloors, echoing the elegance of clubs, cocktail bars, and the neon charm of 'Milano da Bere'.

‘With Time, We Learned To Ask Less’ is the first duo album by Giuseppe Ielasi and Riccardo D. Wanke after decades of friendship and the occasional artistic collaboration. Working with only electric guitar and electric piano as well as a gentle dose of reverb, these improvisation-based recordings showcase the rapprochement of two artists whose interests are perfectly aligned. Their carefulness, attention to detail, and shared desire to sculpt space through music instead of just occupying it create a unique harmony between these two exceptional musicians who consistently stay mindful of the old adage that music is the space between the notes. Following up on solo albums sees them seamlessly combining the sparse but lush aesthetics of those experiments throughout these 44 minutes. Having lived close to each other in Northern Italy, where the prolific mastering engineer Ielasi still resides to this day, he and Wanke were members of the group Medves together with Andrea Belfi, Renato Rinaldi and Stefano Pilia before Wanke relocated to Lisbon. When Ielasi, who had mastered Wanke’s recent solo albums including 2023’s »i« for electric pianos, was invited to play a concert in the Portuguese capital in the summer of that year, the two took the opportunity to go on stage together. Infatuated by the results of this fully improvised set, they organised a two-day session in Ielasi’s Monza studio shortly thereafter and edited the recordings over the course of the following months. The resulting album shows them moving slowly through sonic space and time, complementing and counterpointing each other’s playing. They leave each other room in which to unfold and let short moments of silence speak for themselves. ‘With Time, We Learned To Ask Less’ is the closest you will get to hearing the air sing.

The Australian master of the dark synth arts is back and – boy – he is out for blood.
We’ve been missing Marc Dwyer solo project Buzz Kull since his latest single Last In The Club from late 2019 and since back then we knew he was up to something. At first glimpse, the minimal wave days of We Were Lovers seem far away now that Marc has gone full Club Body Music with his upcoming new album, but there is a thread that binds Buzz Kull hits from the past such as Into The Void, Avoiding The Light and New Kind Of Cross with these ten new cuts: a thread of darkness proper to the most handsome man in the game and that’s here to stay.

Echoes of 90’s era Front 242 and Front Line Assembly will resonate from tracks like Fascination and Dead Inside; elements of early body music flirting with the dark side of British synthpop will rave from the grooves of Dancing with Machines and Man on the Beat, while late 80’s Belgian new beat cellar-like vibes rise from Do You See and Burn it to the Ground.

But Buzz Kull’s third full-length is not just about music subgenres we all know and love, it’s about a feeling that comes alive only with the dark and drives you through the small hours just to leave you drained and filled at once. The creature of the night is on the loose, the sticky dancefloor its natural habitat, its lust for the upside-down world of the club can’t be cured.

The tenth volume of Numero's elaborately packaged Cabinet of Curiosities series, L80s finds the group exploring the far-flung corners of the global downtempo underground. This 12-song mix tape weaves icy hot coldwave, Sausalito seafood jazz, Glaswegian goth, makeshift Madonna, Sade spoofs, and Brat Pack balearic into a high-waisted, party-ready pair of danceable denim.

The first solo release from MPC wizard and Dutch DJ Iceberg (aka Benjamin Berg) knocks itself into existence. Five tracks of unforgettable swing from the young producer, each packed with enough saturated crunch to make Roger Linn proud. If there’s one thing we know for certain, it’s that this record hits the mark right on time — surely an ode to sequencers and the attitudes of times past.

Known for her delicate, subtly psychedelic approach to production - all subtlety is thrown out of the window on the opener, “Parents and God”. We are immediately confronted with a slamming Chicago house style beat in style of Mr Fingers at his most utilitarian. It slams, jerking in and out of tempo like Ron Hardy in beast mode.

Out of nowhere a soulful church organ arrives - at first for a brief respite - but then for an extended solo, which gives way to an 80s electro style breakdown before reverting back to form. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does - to a dizzying extent - and heirin lies Mayurashka’s magic: a blatant disregard for norms and a deft touch that makes the unorthodox so compelling.

“Notango" takes another big left turn - sitting somewhere between tribal seance and rain dance, it’s mostly organic drums and otherworldly sound effects that combine to drag us deeper into the wormhole before “ Vat Murmur” takes us back into the light with its uptempo disco energy and giving way to heavy chugging bass. This one is equally for fans of idjut boys and Larry Levan.

The EP rounds off with the title track “ LSI dreaming” - to try and describe it is almost impossible, but let’s say it starts of with a mid 2000s Perlon-era tech house energy before things quickly escalate beyond all recognition and then just hover with lysergic intensity. If I ever closed panorama bar, this is the track I’d end with.

Atlanta Based Band Rujen And their Album "Velvet Dream".
Velvet Dream is more than a collection of songs - it’s a cosmic nudge sent to remind you that your future begins with a choice. You close your eyes and a vision begins to form: a life just beyond your reach, patiently awaiting your arrival. It’s the version of yourself you imagine when you tune out the noise and tune in to the things that make you feel. With their Broc Recordz debut, Rujen aim to open doors through that very threshold with 11 tracks of 70s-tinged space rock that thoughtfully weave together lyrical themes of time, personal agency, and the pursuit of silencing self-doubt.

Art Academy was a short-lived but impactful project masterminded by Stephan Kessler (of Aircrash Bureau), releasing just one single in 1990 on the iconic Suck Me Plasma imprint, a sub-label of Music Research. "The Banker”, co-produced by Holger Wick (Konzept), delivers a sharp fusion of techno and EBM, capturing the gritty, forward-pushing energy of early '90s German electronic music.

Limited edition of 300 copies on black vinyl and 200 copies on clear red vinyl, offering all original tracks along with the highly sought-after HWSK Mix of “The Banker”, previously only available on CD.

Art Academy was a short-lived but impactful project masterminded by Stephan Kessler (of Aircrash Bureau), releasing just one single in 1990 on the iconic Suck Me Plasma imprint, a sub-label of Music Research. "The Banker”, co-produced by Holger Wick (Konzept), delivers a sharp fusion of techno and EBM, capturing the gritty, forward-pushing energy of early '90s German electronic music.

Limited edition of 300 copies on black vinyl and 200 copies on clear red vinyl, offering all original tracks along with the highly sought-after HWSK Mix of “The Banker”, previously only available on CD.

Yes Amigos!

The Debut Album "Latin Freaks" by Funkool Orchestra is finally out!

Get ready for another dose of Neapolitan Funky Disco Boogie madness with a Latin touch and a glorious featuring by the one and only Latin soul King : JOE BATAAN.

The Long Playing is a mixture of Rare Grooves, Napoli Sound, Disco Boogie, Latin Soul and Boogaloo, ideal for a trip to Nueva York and back to Naples just to say hello to your Puertorican uncle Manolito "Gennaro" Marròn.
A gozar!

How would you like to hear it? This project is the brainchild of Andy Baxter, a multi-talented musician and multi-instrumentalist from London. His recording career began in 2018 when he released his first album, Green, on Village Live.

Buoyed by this initial recognition by his peers, he quickly released a second self-produced opus the following year, entitled Dusk. But it was his third LP, Shapes, released by KingUnderground, that took him to the next level.

Conceived during the first period of confinement, Andy played almost every instrument on the album (a few musicians joined in here and there): drums first and foremost, his instrument of choice, but also bass, guitar, keyboards and even the flute, which he had just learnt at the time of the album's creation. Largely inspired by the library music of the 70s, including some of his mentors such as Piero Umilani, David Axelrod and Brian Bennett, the album is nonetheless resolutely modern. But there's no denying the cinematic atmosphere that emanates from his compositions.

From the opening track "We're From Nowhere", with its heavy, funky bass, you get the impression of being plunged into the Harlem blaxploitation of the heyday, and you can't help but see a musical nod to Roy Ayers' "We live in Brooklyn, baby". But you soon realise that far from being a nostalgic musician, Baxter also listens to his contemporaries like Khruangbin and BadBadNotGood, as can be heard on tracks like 'Leaves', 'Odysea' and 'Ikigai', with their atmospheric guitars and Fransesca Uberti's haunting backing vocals, which instantly invite you to travel and escape! But there are times when the mood gets a little tense, like on the more angst-ridden 'Villains', with its almost free jazz flights of fancy. Finally, his drumming also comes to the fore on the last track, 'Stay Free', with its Afrobeat rhythm reminiscent of a certain Tony Allen and evoking creative freedom as a common thread running through his values.

In nine tracks, Shapes takes us on a neo jazz journey that once again demonstrates the vitality of the English scene in this field for several years now! At the start of 2022, Robohands released their latest album, Violet, on the same label, confirming all the good things we thought about them! By allowing a number of musicians to join him on this new opus, Andy Baxter has shown a willingness to work with more accomplished collaborators.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.



Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.



Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”



But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.



The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.



“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.



Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.



Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.