Cerca:just the right height

From out of nowhere - if nowhere is the febrile, warped and twilit imagination of Julia McFarlane - comes Whoopee, the second album by J.McFarlane’s Reality Guest. Whoopee is an esoteric, kaleidoscopic movie in music form directed by Julia McFarlane and co-conspirator Thomas Kernot. Full of life, breakbeats and smokey vignettes on the fragile nature of interpersonal relationships, Whoopee is a stylistic evolution from everything McFarlane has done before. Surreal, beautiful in parts and replete with the aching wisdom McFarlane’s songwriting has always promised, this Reality Guest pulls back the curtain on a whole scene of naked truth. Recorded in Melbourne in bursts since the release of 2019’s Ta Da, Whoopee features a new sound palette and band member in Kernot. The duo dive deep into electronic pop tropes, mining digital synths, samples, breakbeats and deep bass grooves, largely dispensing with live instrumentation. If Ta Da took twists and turns with your expectations, offering a Dada-ist, monochromatic take on pop music, Whoopee is McFarlane’s subterranean love-sick pinks, reds, greens, purples and blues. Becoming something of a tradition, the album starts with an instrumental intro pilfered from a 90s’ spy film or cinema intro music, puffing up the listener for the heart-squeezing bathos of Full Stops. Over a bleary backdrop of walking bass lines, jazz- inflected keys and smoked-out atmosphere, McFarlane’s poetry narrates the fragile state of a relationship: “You put a full stop where I thought there’d be a comma, I want the story to continue even with all the drama.” Over a palpable pain, the narrator is revelling in the drama of a relationship, addicted to tumult and heightened emotion. On Sensory, a space age bachelor lounge pad ballad, the converse state of the previous song is explored, here the narrator is battling the numbness of being out of the drama, stuck in a sensory-deprivation tank, anaesthesized and battling to emerge from the fog. Wrong Planet explores an otherworldly pop music, hewing a bright hook out of a sense of confusion. A bona-fide, sing-along chorus bursts out of the narrator musing on the absurdity of existing in this reality. It speaks of one of Julia McFarlane’s main talents, her knack of inspecting human relationships and states with a clear perspective, like an alien visiting Earth and realising everything we are is really, really strange. Whoopee is both more accessible than previous Reality Guest work and somehow more obfuscated. Where the production on Ta Da was dry, sharp and strange, this Reality Guest is blurred, almost smeared with the effluvium of 90s+00s culture and existence. Through it all, it’s hard to deny the undeniable pull of the songs. Precious Boy carries on the lounge theme with a whole sampler of cut up sounds fading in and out of the haze as McFarlane’s voice is right up to the speaker cooing and free- associating, maybe in love or maybe in confusion... maybe they’re the same thing? Sometimes the listener is invited to just bathe in the tone of the vocal, as on Apocalypse, where the texture and timbre of the vocal is luxurious, bathing in piano tinkles and double bass throb. On lead single Slinky, a cut up beat reminiscent of Washingtonian Go-Go drum patterns leads, the song slipping through your fingers, elusive and presenting sound as pure pleasure. Closer Caviar jumps back into the broken breakbeats of a surreal funk, fuelled by the sensory pleasure of the music, a hedonistic whirl in rapture, the narrator now living life to the fullest in all its giddy heights and deep troughs. This is the album’s main character fully-actualised and in the terrible, beautiful moment.

What I can say about TORRES is I think the music comes from a convicted place. Not convicted meaning a person is narrowly and foolishly committed to an ideal, or unshakably convinced of themselves, or a zealot, or stubborn. I mean dedicated, I mean: If TORRES' music gets weird, gets brainy, gets funny, gets defiant, provokes, deliberately scandalizes, employs the crass to undermine the austere, courts lofty philosophical truth-it's all done with the conviction of an artist with the (essential) belief in the worth of their task. I think you can hear it in the songs, someone reaching, leaning over the boundary between known and not, probing the almighty. After a decade and six studio albums and however many one-offs and tours and articles read and conversations had, the parts of this pursuit I've been able to observe are all marked by a dedication to creation that treats the act-ongoing-with as much preciousness as the evidence of the act that is left in a record. The modes of being are different: heartbroken, broke, furious (right- and unrighteously), awestruck by love, compelled by desire. sometimes resigned to death, sometimes fascinated by and reverent of the future. Sometimes viscerally present, other times suspended in heady awareness, poised on a fulcrum of observation and participation in the phenomenon that aliveness is. The tools are the same: instruments that growl and shriek and moan, a lyrical voice shouting, swooning, chuckling, snarling as the moment commands. TORRES' music-making is conducted in a melodic vocabulary unique to itself-methods, equipment, circumstances shifting around the impulse to affirm the self within the world, to make art that bears all these little artifacts of the divine and of the real and show it to people and know it is valuable. I think that's what Mackenzie's music does. And I think it's just incredibly good music to listen to. -Julien Baker TORRES is the pseudonym of Mackenzie Scott. She was born January 23, 1991, and lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her wife Jenna, stepson Silas, and puppy Sylvia. She has been releasing albums and performing as TORRES since 2013. What an enormous room is TORRES' sixth studio album (her third with Merge). It was recorded in September and October 2022 at Stadium Heights Sound in Durham, North Carolina. It was engineered by Ryan Pickett, produced by Mackenzie Scott and Sarah Jaffe, mixed by TJ Allen in Bristol, UK, and mastered by Heba Kadry in NYC. The album contains 10 songs. Mackenzie wrote all of them. Sarah played bass guitar, synths, drums, organ, and piano. Mackenzie sang vocals, played guitar, bass, synths, organ, piano, and programmed drums. Additional synth bass, tambourine, and shakers were played by TJ Allen.

What I can say about TORRES is I think the music comes from a convicted place. Not convicted meaning a person is narrowly and foolishly committed to an ideal, or unshakably convinced of themselves, or a zealot, or stubborn. I mean dedicated, I mean: If TORRES' music gets weird, gets brainy, gets funny, gets defiant, provokes, deliberately scandalizes, employs the crass to undermine the austere, courts lofty philosophical truth-it's all done with the conviction of an artist with the (essential) belief in the worth of their task. I think you can hear it in the songs, someone reaching, leaning over the boundary between known and not, probing the almighty. After a decade and six studio albums and however many one-offs and tours and articles read and conversations had, the parts of this pursuit I've been able to observe are all marked by a dedication to creation that treats the act-ongoing-with as much preciousness as the evidence of the act that is left in a record. The modes of being are different: heartbroken, broke, furious (right- and unrighteously), awestruck by love, compelled by desire. sometimes resigned to death, sometimes fascinated by and reverent of the future. Sometimes viscerally present, other times suspended in heady awareness, poised on a fulcrum of observation and participation in the phenomenon that aliveness is. The tools are the same: instruments that growl and shriek and moan, a lyrical voice shouting, swooning, chuckling, snarling as the moment commands. TORRES' music-making is conducted in a melodic vocabulary unique to itself-methods, equipment, circumstances shifting around the impulse to affirm the self within the world, to make art that bears all these little artifacts of the divine and of the real and show it to people and know it is valuable. I think that's what Mackenzie's music does. And I think it's just incredibly good music to listen to. -Julien Baker TORRES is the pseudonym of Mackenzie Scott. She was born January 23, 1991, and lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her wife Jenna, stepson Silas, and puppy Sylvia. She has been releasing albums and performing as TORRES since 2013. What an enormous room is TORRES' sixth studio album (her third with Merge). It was recorded in September and October 2022 at Stadium Heights Sound in Durham, North Carolina. It was engineered by Ryan Pickett, produced by Mackenzie Scott and Sarah Jaffe, mixed by TJ Allen in Bristol, UK, and mastered by Heba Kadry in NYC. The album contains 10 songs. Mackenzie wrote all of them. Sarah played bass guitar, synths, drums, organ, and piano. Mackenzie sang vocals, played guitar, bass, synths, organ, piano, and programmed drums. Additional synth bass, tambourine, and shakers were played by TJ Allen.

The last twelve months have been a whirlwind for Henry Counsell and Louis Curran, the men who make up Joy (Anonymous). Having established themselves during the Covid-19 era by playing impromptu meet-ups on London’s South Bank, they have graduated to bigger venues, travelled to far-flung locales and recorded their second album, Cult Classics, while maintaining the spontaneous energy and irrepressible joy that made their name. Their music revels in the euphoria of being alive and all the feelings, good or bad, that come with it. It invites us into a community, draws us close and promises the night of our lives.

Recorded over the course of a year, the blueprint for Cult Classics was laid down over a two-week span at Imogen Heap’s Round House in east London. Joy (Anonymous) invited friends old and new to visit - they’d record live instruments in jam sessions upstairs and then retreat to a second room to flip and loop and generally mess with the sounds, moulding them into sizzling dance tracks. “Loads of people were coming up to me like ‘I thought this was going to be a dance record?’” Louis says, remembering the quietly beautiful music they’d be recording. “I’d be like, don’t worry about that, just keep playing.” He’d send it back to people later and they’d be floored - “That was my bit and you’ve made it... jungle!”

It was an organic and creatively fulfilling approach, one that didn’t allow any of the music to get stale or stagnate. As they built the tracks from the sounds they’d collected, Joy (Anonymous) would weave the new songs into their famously improvised live sets, testing them, refining them, taking note of the audiences’ reactions. In a year punctuated by a lot of travel, they’d also incorporate the voices of people they met along the way - “Beazley’s Poem”, which opens the record, features the words of a man who was working security at a Fred Again show at New York’s Terminal Five. “He was basically doing the opposite of his job and being a hype man, climbing on the fence and ramping up the crowd - we ended up hanging out with him - like, who’s this legend?” Louis explains. “He just speaks really amazingly about his life, all these amazing thoughts and opinions - he started jumping on the mic when we were playing, preaching these amazing messages to the crowd, like that we all need to be nicer to each other. The first time we played the record in its entirety, he introduced us and that’s the recording we’ve used.”

Joy (Anonymous) remain dedicated to the spirit of spontaneity. They shut a street down with a surprise waterside party in New York. On a trip to Copenhagen they played an impromptu set in a cafe, which turned into a house party and a night-long good time. In Lithuania, they ended up playing in a decommissioned prison. It’s harder, perhaps, to keep that spirit alive now that they are operating more within the confines of the music industry but they will keep lugging their kit to wherever the party calls for as long as they can. “I think if we lose that, we’ve kind of lost what makes us us,” Henry says.

Bursting with multi-genre reference points and disparate influences, Cult Classics is very much a dance album. The samples we made ourselves or we took from music that is quite different to dance music, but we definitely wanted to shout out a lot of the dance influences that we love,” Henry says. They listened to a lot of Daft Punk and Basement Jaxx as well as The Prodigy (“more rage stuff”), taking songwriting tips from their dance forebears, but also recording bits that felt more like jazz and motown (see: A Place I Belong and the lovely album closer, You’re In Or You’re Out). Emir Taha’s gentle classical guitar runs like a thread throughout Cult Classics, washing into the undertones of the record, tying it all together.

The album follows the beat of a night out, from frenetic, sweaty movement to the gentler winding down as the dawn breaks. At times it is euphoric, celebratory and pure, whirling fun, at others it seeks the joy in the darker emotions that life throws our way. 404 is designed to encapsulate everything about the Joy (Anonymous) journey so far. Skittering beats and ghostly vocals give way to vibrating house chords: sirens blare as we approach a dubstep drop. It’s dramatic and wild, ratcheting up, seeming to settle then hitting you with an intense and frantic breakdown before the ghostly vocal returns to lull us back into the world. It has the feel of a hungry cat playing with a mouse, toying with it before letting it get away.

What sounds like someone playing the spoons on playful, housey How We End Up Here is actually Louis’ restless habit of clicking his rings on everything, one of a myriad of calling cards and easter eggs that day one fans will recognise. They rework Miley Cyrus and Swae Lee’s Party Up The Street into a French-electro-inspired future classic, adding a note of melancholy to a tune that you can imagine hearing blaring from every car on a summer drive. The lyrics on Cult Classic are generally reassuring, inspirational, originally drawn from Henry in stream-of-consciousness freestyles. You’re fine the way you are, they seem to say - the repeated “No need to try” of A Place I Belong, the assurance that “It’s in me all the time” on In Me All The Time. Even the summery but regretful Did You Wrong hints at the growth that is possible from less than ideal behaviour. For Joy (Anonymous), joy isn’t about just being “happy” all the time - it’s about relishing every element of your being.

The name ‘Joy (Anonymous)’ is taken from the work Henry did with Alcoholics Anonymous groups: it is a way to build a community around sharing joy. Their impromptu live sets are known as ‘meetings’; they encourage fans to share moments of joy to their website. They care deeply about the scene they’ve come up in and are determined not to leave it behind. Every show is another chance to reach out and connect with people who love to come together and revel in music as loud as it can go.

Support slots for Fred Again and The Streets, wild B2Bs with Fred and Skrillex, and a set at Four Tet’s Finsbury Park all-dayer this summer have given the duo the opportunity to live out childhood dreams and introduced their infectious live shows to new audiences at huge venues.

With an album as assured and joyful as Cult Classics on the horizon (and a killer collab with The Blessed Madonna coming up), they’re only going to reach higher heights. But the essence of Joy (Anonymous) remains on the South Bank. Between shows at Ally Pally in September, they dragged their camping chairs and gear back down to the banks of the Thames: and it just felt right.

Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell remains the turning point at which hip-hop crashed through mainstream barriers and never left. Anchored by the crossover smash "Walk This Way," the 1986 blockbuster still sounds like a revolution unfolding in real time. It has everything – hard-rock riffs, turntable scratching, itchy rhythms, hit singles – not the least of which are the trio's invigorating raps and inseparable chemistry. And now it's the first rap record afforded audiophile treatment, courtesy of Mobile Fidelity.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, the reissue label's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP elevates Raising Hell to sonic heights on par with its musical and cultural significance. Ranked the 123rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, 43rd on Pitchfork's Greatest Albums of the 1980s, one of the Top 100 Albums of All Time by TIME – and included on "Best of" lists by Spin, Paste, XXL, Entertainment Weekly, and basically every other significant media outlet – the triple-platinum effort rocks the house.

Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and groove definition of SuperVinyl, Raising Hell unleashes a torrent of massive dynamics and tsunami of frequency-plumbing details underlined by Rick Rubin's taut, crisp, albeit raw and streetwise production. Just as the Queens-based group both defined what hip-hop could represent – and displayed just how big it could get – Rubin's work melded ear-worm hooks, savvy drum loops, metal-leaning guitars, and, of course, Run and D.M.C.'s cross-fire lyrical interplay into watertight frameworks bursting with ideas, tones, samples, and beats. Heard anew on Mobile Fidelity vinyl, Raising Hell is in every regard the aural equivalent of a direct-to-console 1970s classic. And it sounds as fresh as hell.

As for the music, it ranks among the most influential, inventive, and invigorating ever released – rap or otherwise. Vanguard artists such as Ice-T, Eminem, Jay-Z, and Public Enemy's Chuck D – who declared it his all-time favorite and "the first record that made me realize this was an album-oriented genre" – have testified on behalf of its brilliance. And never mind the presence of the Top 5 single "Walk This Way," whose power helped make Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry relevant for the first time in nearly a decade – and literally put Run-D.M.C. in bedrooms ranging from the Bronx to Bartlett to Bad Axe.

Look instead to the rest of the entirely filler-free set, be it the corkscrew turns, slippery wordplay, and "My Sharona"-meets-"Mickey" mixology of the boisterous "It's Tricky," the fat-but-minimized bass grooves and warped turntable wobble of the hysterical "You Be Illin'," chimes-accented inertia and boombox-on- shoulder thunder of the now-iconic "Peter Piper," or voice-as-percussion attack of the funky "Is It Live." With Raising Hell, the answer to the question is always affirmative – a sensation bolstered by the fact the group always had something to say.

The definition of Golden Age Hip-Hop in every way, Run-D.M.C. avoids the negativity and misogyny that later plagued the style, spinning assertive tales about identity (the biographical and culture-changing "My Adidas"), work ethics ("Perfection"), and, most notably, pride (the Harriet Tubman- and Malcom X.-referencing "Proud to Be Black"). Pavement-packed inner cities, tree-lined suburbs, and cornfield-rimmed rural areas would never again be the same. And rocking a rhyme that's right on time would become trickier than ever.

The most potent memories I have of music are from my early childhood listening to the oldie's station, riding in the back of my Pops' 1975 Cadillac Seville to work alongside him moving plants in Sacramento at the now long gone Capitol Nursery during white hot summer afternoons, and then the drives back home in the purple twilights and oily blue-oranged nights. I'm talkin' The Temptations, War, Earth Wind and Fire, Al Green, Sly and the Family Stone, The Delfonics, Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan...soul music. I loved the melodrama of it all. The world outside refracted and transmuted through the crackling speakers past Pops' thumping thumb and my tiny whirring mind and left whatever road behind us fundamentally changed in our wake. Through the years other sounds too left its imprint well before I picked up a guitar. Rap, Punk, hardcore, dub, R&B--and a little later in middle school, blues, folk and country. But those early Cadillac memories always remained the bedrock. With folk and blues music, I fell in love with the immediacy of it and found the acoustic guitar economical for all the solitary roaming of my early 20's. All the while I knew that one day, when I had something I felt like I could add, I wanted to incorporate the sound of those early Cadillac memories. But only after I felt established as a songwriter in its most simple form, banging on a wooden guitar and yodeling up some melody did I feel comfortable exploring other sounds and only recently did I find the time and space to do that. The pandemic trapped all the world in their rooms. While recording my last record in the height of it and at the behest of my friend and You, Yeah, You producer Brad Cook and his friend Justin Vernon, I bought my first keyboard. A Roland Juno DS. I started tinkering on it throughout the past couple of years and as I became more stationary started writing songs on different instruments that I accumulated. Layering sounds on garageband in my apartment writing bass and horn parts, making drum loops, adding synth... I became pretty obsessive with the endless possibilities it brought and got quicker and quicker at making songs that way. It was just so fun and limitless.

The most potent memories I have of music are from my early childhood listening to the oldie's station, riding in the back of my Pops' 1975 Cadillac Seville to work alongside him moving plants in Sacramento at the now long gone Capitol Nursery during white hot summer afternoons, and then the drives back home in the purple twilights and oily blue-oranged nights. I'm talkin' The Temptations, War, Earth Wind and Fire, Al Green, Sly and the Family Stone, The Delfonics, Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan...soul music. I loved the melodrama of it all. The world outside refracted and transmuted through the crackling speakers past Pops' thumping thumb and my tiny whirring mind and left whatever road behind us fundamentally changed in our wake. Through the years other sounds too left its imprint well before I picked up a guitar. Rap, Punk, hardcore, dub, R&B--and a little later in middle school, blues, folk and country. But those early Cadillac memories always remained the bedrock. With folk and blues music, I fell in love with the immediacy of it and found the acoustic guitar economical for all the solitary roaming of my early 20's. All the while I knew that one day, when I had something I felt like I could add, I wanted to incorporate the sound of those early Cadillac memories. But only after I felt established as a songwriter in its most simple form, banging on a wooden guitar and yodeling up some melody did I feel comfortable exploring other sounds and only recently did I find the time and space to do that. The pandemic trapped all the world in their rooms. While recording my last record in the height of it and at the behest of my friend and You, Yeah, You producer Brad Cook and his friend Justin Vernon, I bought my first keyboard. A Roland Juno DS. I started tinkering on it throughout the past couple of years and as I became more stationary started writing songs on different instruments that I accumulated. Layering sounds on garageband in my apartment writing bass and horn parts, making drum loops, adding synth... I became pretty obsessive with the endless possibilities it brought and got quicker and quicker at making songs that way. It was just so fun and limitless.

The story of the invention of the term, 'deepfunk' is probably only known among fans and practitioners of this niche-genre. In short, it all started in the 1990s when DJs like Keb Darge, Mark 'Snowboy' Cotgrove and others began spinning obscure and feral Funk 45 RPM singles from local American bands, ostensibly generating another sub-category branch off of the mighty Northern Soul tree. The dance-club phenomenon inevitably spilled over to contemporary groups on the funk scene which immediately tried to record their music the way their idols did. The 'rare groove' and 'acid jazz' movements had run their course and there was a concerted effort to reinstate primitive idiomatic styles and techniques into the music, most notably by 90s funk collective The Poets of Rhythm. As more years passed by the number of bands steadily increased (although in tiny numbers, compared to the mainstream market). Almost every country had a representative with the majority of them coming from the United Kingdom. The deepfunk sound was still a niche, however a very few bands made it onto the mainstream charts, most notably Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings.

At the height of the retro-soul movement a questionable development took place. As more bands arrived on the scene, the production became more and more polished and pop-ish. Some of that squeaky-clean tidiness began to creep into the recordings, encouraged in part by the signature sounds of the digital recording technology available at that time. Some bands even tried to jump onto the possibility of promoting their music as 'deepfunk' although they were actually playing slick, funky pop music. This way some people who thought they were listening to raw, energetic funk actually felt quite ambushed when hit with real deepfunk. In fact, a certain percentage of funk music produced within the past 20 years does not deserve to be described as 'deepfunk' at all. Fortunately there were (and are) some pleasant exceptions which did not just imitate but actually rendered amazing funk music just like some of the finest funk combos of the 1960s and 70s.

One of those creative minds is without a doubt Joel Ricci aka Lucky Brown. Originally from Seattle, Washington, USA, he has enriched the deepfunk community since the mid-2000s with his stellar abilities. He is not only an amazing musician playing multiple instruments, but also a brilliant composer, arranger, and producer too. But for us here at Tramp he is much more, a close friend and remarkable human being. Whenever we were struggling, whether with the label or in private life, Joel and his musical work helped us to overcome everything and to keep going our path.

So here we are in 2023. The songs you are listening to right now are the complete Space Dream collection, split into two parts, representing the two living-room recording sessions from which his 2011 Tramp Records debut was compiled. Each fully remastered album contains unreleased material and comes with brand new, beautifully reimagined artwork by Ricci himself, housed in an authentic 1960s tip-on cover. A first class product from a first class musician for the discerning funk enthusiast.

The story of the invention of the term, 'deepfunk' is probably only known among fans and practitioners of this niche-genre. In short, it all started in the 1990s when DJs like Keb Darge, Mark 'Snowboy' Cotgrove and others began spinning obscure and feral Funk 45 RPM singles from local American bands, ostensibly generating another sub-category branch off of the mighty Northern Soul tree. The dance-club phenomenon inevitably spilled over to contemporary groups on the funk scene which immediately tried to record their music the way their idols did. The 'rare groove' and 'acid jazz' movements had run their course and there was a concerted effort to reinstate primitive idiomatic styles and techniques into the music, most notably by 90s funk collective The Poets of Rhythm. As more years passed by the number of bands steadily increased (although in tiny numbers, compared to the mainstream market). Almost every country had a representative with the majority of them coming from the United Kingdom. The deepfunk sound was still a niche, however a very few bands made it onto the mainstream charts, most notably Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings.

At the height of the retro-soul movement a questionable development took place. As more bands arrived on the scene, the production became more and more polished and pop-ish. Some of that squeaky-clean tidiness began to creep into the recordings, encouraged in part by the signature sounds of the digital recording technology available at that time. Some bands even tried to jump onto the possibility of promoting their music as 'deepfunk' although they were actually playing slick, funky pop music. This way some people who thought they were listening to raw, energetic funk actually felt quite ambushed when hit with real deepfunk. In fact, a certain percentage of funk music produced within the past 20 years does not deserve to be described as 'deepfunk' at all. Fortunately there were (and are) some pleasant exceptions which did not just imitate but actually rendered amazing funk music just like some of the finest funk combos of the 1960s and 70s.

One of those creative minds is without a doubt Joel Ricci aka Lucky Brown. Originally from Seattle, Washington, USA, he has enriched the deepfunk community since the mid-2000s with his stellar abilities. He is not only an amazing musician playing multiple instruments, but also a brilliant composer, arranger, and producer too. But for us here at Tramp he is much more, a close friend and remarkable human being. Whenever we were struggling, whether with the label or in private life, Joel and his musical work helped us to overcome everything and to keep going our path.

So here we are in 2023. The songs you are listening to right now are the complete Space Dream collection, split into two parts, representing the two living-room recording sessions from which his 2011 Tramp Records debut was compiled. Each fully remastered album contains unreleased material and comes with brand new, beautifully reimagined artwork by Ricci himself, housed in an authentic 1960s tip-on cover. A first class product from a first class musician for the discerning funk enthusiast.

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

Repress of this 2014 single. First time that we have had this one. “City Heights” is a breezy walk through the neighborhood on a Summer’s day. Light and easy, the intro guitars give way to magnificent horns. Some sweet Soul Jazz at its finest. Reminiscent of George Benson meeting the Memphis Horns while Herbie Mann gets down, this side is soulful and funky at the same time. By the time the flute comes in and give way to more drums that knock, you’ve not just circled the neighborhood, you’ve walked the city and back nodding your head the whole way. This track is another winner from SFSE and a sure shot for Colemine Records. On point as usual, they are once again highlighting some of the newest and best bands out there. The flip, “Strollin’ Adams” picks up where “City Heights” left off. A little more jazzy, a little bit funkier but with that breezy feel still, this track brings you back to those mid 60’s early 70’s Blue Note / Prestige / Verve Soul Jazz moments. A time when the players clicked and gave us this genre that has wooed listeners for decades moving forward. The old sound is new again, and preserved just right. Aces high, this is a winner on both sides. - Flea Market Funk.

Repress of this 2014 single. First time that we have had this one. “City Heights” is a breezy walk through the neighborhood on a Summer’s day. Light and easy, the intro guitars give way to magnificent horns. Some sweet Soul Jazz at its finest. Reminiscent of George Benson meeting the Memphis Horns while Herbie Mann gets down, this side is soulful and funky at the same time. By the time the flute comes in and give way to more drums that knock, you’ve not just circled the neighborhood, you’ve walked the city and back nodding your head the whole way. This track is another winner from SFSE and a sure shot for Colemine Records. On point as usual, they are once again highlighting some of the newest and best bands out there. The flip, “Strollin’ Adams” picks up where “City Heights” left off. A little more jazzy, a little bit funkier but with that breezy feel still, this track brings you back to those mid 60’s early 70’s Blue Note / Prestige / Verve Soul Jazz moments. A time when the players clicked and gave us this genre that has wooed listeners for decades moving forward. The old sound is new again, and preserved just right. Aces high, this is a winner on both sides. - Flea Market Funk.

A co-founder of the P-Funk movement, Clarence Eugene ""Fuzzy"" Haskins was born in West Virginia in 1941 and started as a singer in the doo-wop vocal group The Parliaments, led by George Clinton in the late 1950s. He was a founding member of the groundbreaking and influential 1970s funk bands PARLIAMENT-FUNKADELIC. Fuzzy Haskins toured and appeared on P-Funk albums as a singer, and occasionally as a guitarist, throughout the 1970s. He is a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, inducted in 1997. Despite the success of Mothership Connection, Fuzzy Haskins was growing frustrated that his songs were no longer being featured on albums by Funkadelic and Parliament. He also watched as Bootsy Collins, a relative newcomer to the family, embarked upon a solo career. This added to Haskins' frustration and at the height of P-Funk's popularity, Fuzzy left the ensemble to pursue a solo career. Fuzzy Haskins released two landmark solo albums on Westbound Records: `A Whole Nother Thang' in 1976 and `Radio Active' in 1978. With his brand of earthy & heavyweight funk, Fuzzy Haskins' solo works fits right in with many of the other great P-Funk side projects and was sampled by renowned artists and acts from the likes of Prince, The Prodigy, N.W.A and Fatboy Slim.On the album we are presenting you today (Radio Active from 1978) you'll find eight sublime tracks written (or co-written) by Mr. Haskins himself and recorded by Richard Becker at the legendary PAC 3 Recording Studios in Dearborn, Michigan where classic albums from Norman Feels and Dennis Coffey were born. One of the tracks (Woman) was personally mixed for the album by Tom Moulton (the originator of musical revolutions like `the remix', `the breakdown section' and the `12inch single vinyl format').Fuzzy switched between drums and guitar, while taking charge of the lead vocals and production, he was accompanied in the studio by an all-star musician line-up of P-Funk family members such as Jerome `Bigfoot' Brailey (drums), Cordell `Boogie' Mossom (bass), Gary Shider & Michael Hampton (guitars), Glen Goins (piano, drums & guitar)_and of course the fantastic Mr. Bernie Worrell on keyboards. Besides these Parliament/Funkadelic alumni, also present on the recordings are Bruce Nazarian (The Temptations) on Moog and Jazz pianist Gary Schunk (known for his collaborations with Marcus Belgrave & Wendell Harrison).The result of all this musicianship was a record that oozed quality. Despite the quality of the music (and just like with `A Whole Nother Thang') the album didn't sell the vast quantities that were projected and didn't reach the audience it deserved.`Radio Active' is filled with keyboard-driven spacey funk, sharp hooks, popping bass-lines, JB styled soulful (yet sexy) vocals, a hint of disco, fantastic guitar build-ups and breaks that make you shake_a true gem that deserves a place in your record collection (mint vinyl copies are hard to find and pricey these days). If you are a Funkateer_this one's for you! This unique album comes as a deluxe 180g vinyl edition (strictly limited to 500 copies) with obi strip and features the original artwork created by virtuoso Ronald Edwards (known for his graphic work with Parliament-Funkadelic, Bootsy Collins, Fred Wesley, George Clinton, Maceo Parker, Bernie Worrell, Fishbone_and countless others). To top it all off, this release also includes an insert featuring the original liner notes written in 1994 by renowned author and producer Rob Bowman (Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, Marvin Gaye) who reflects on Fuzzy Haskins' two solo albums.

Here’s Lantern Heights’ personal tribute to the one and only Michael Chapman, a hero in his own right, a ‘Fully Qualified Survivor’ (just to mention one of his most successful creations). An unreleased live album on vinyl in the form of an astonishing trio.” A live set recorded at Nottingham’s Playhouse Theatre on July 23rd 1977 by Chapman and a power house rhythm section in Lindisfarne bassist Rod Clements and former John Mayall drummer Keef Hartley. Some of his best-loved songs are showcased in “And There Were Three” – a jocular reference to Chapman’s ever-shrinking band, also known as ‘a beast with three heads’.

There is nothing quite like an evening under the rhythmic spell of the legendary David Morales. Stepping on the dancefloor while he's behind the decks requires full trust and surrender. You agree to hand the reins of your mind, body, and spirit to his intuition and ability to guide you to where you need to be at all times. It will occasionally be cathartic and intense. It will often make the hairs on your body stand on end, and make you sweat more than you ever have before. The endorphin release will be powerful. You will feel like you can touch joy and euphoria it in the air around you. As he gently brings you back down to reality, you will feel renewed and ready for anything life brings your way. This is more than a night of dancing. This is an experience at the hands of a magical maestro of music. How is this possible from a night on the dancefloor? Well, it begins with the brilliant mind of an artist at the peak of his creative power, imbued with the empathy necessary to connect with what has become a global legion of fans. "If there is any secret, it's really simple: I love what I do with all of my heart," Morales says. "I'm a DJ first. I thrive on human interaction. I am always adjusting my sets based on what the people in the room need. Each night, we form an emotional connection that inspires the music as it comes."

For Morales, "working in the studio is important, but it exists as a way of supporting the DJing experience. It's all to inform how it will work on the dancefloor."

To that end, you're reading these words as you dive into a new collection of Morales classics. Ever the collaborator, he has enlisted the input of a wide range of voices and talent. There is the diva power of fellow legend Ultra Nate, who brings her signature sass to "I Can Dream," while Michele Perera's explosive chemistry with David is all over the inspiring "Life is a Song" and "Never Give Up", as well as the impassioned "Addicted."

Morales reminds the listener of his ever-evolving musical scope in collaborations with blondewearingblack ("What Can I Do"), Lea Lorien ("Never Looking Back"), and Blakkat ("Can't Get Enough"). There's the clubland supergroup of David with Mr. V, Scotty P. and DJ Rae on "The Feels." Rounding out the set is a reunion with longtime muses Elle Cato ("I Feel Love") and British soul icon Joe Roberts ("Easy"). Just be sure to listen closely, because there's bound to be a surprise tucked between these grooves to tickle your ears and move your body.

The beauty of this sparkling new foray into electronic music is the heightened intimacy between Morales and the music. What you are hearing here is almost exclusively from the man's own fingertips. "The technology has evolved in the most extraordinary and liberating ways," he says, adding that he is now able to be far more directly hands-on during the building of each track. "Back in the '90s, I had to have more people involved, With the changes and growth in technology, I can now do it, myself. I don't even have to be in the studio anymore. It's smart, financially, but it's also way more fun and creative."

David adds, "I don't have to wait to manifest an idea anymore. I can just build my ideas as they come to me." In fact, he reveals that many of these new tracks were born in unique places, like planes, cars, his bedroom, and a host of other settings. "Music is always spinning around my mind. I no longer worry about losing an idea."

Surviving the highs and lows of an ever-changing world has also brought Morales back to the basic essentials of life and music. "The pandemic has brought things full circle for me," he says. "I love what I do and I still have the passion of a kid who is just getting started"

Yet, we know that Morales has been in the game for longer than a minute. He's a Grammy award-winning producer, remixer, and songwriter. He has lent his skill to countless of records by icons that include Mariah Carey, Madonna, Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson, Aretha Franklin, Donna Summer, Seal, and Jamiroquai. As a turntable artist originally from New York City, he earned his bones of credibility back in the '80s and '90s in clubs like the Paradise Garage, Red Zone, Tunnel, and Club USA. He initiated the concept of DJs touring beyond their hometowns with countless, wildly successful treks that have taken him the farthest-reaching corners of the world. As electronic music thrives on pop radium, David tops the list of every young artist and DJ as a primary influence.

Even with such a staggering legacy, Morales never looks over his shoulder.

"That is how you stumble and fall," he says. "If you get all caught up in the past, you're going to lose sight of what is right in front of you. You lose the excitement of discovery. That is what gets me off; taking what I know and combining it with what I don't know as I learn it. There is nothing better than experiencing how it all comes together. It's different every time."

And that is the ultimate secret to that extraordinary spell that David Morales casts over us all every single time.

Early support by: Laurent Garnier, AME, Marco Bailey, Jennifer Cardini, Terrence Fixmer, Kyle Geiger, Marcel Dettmann, Apparat, Richie Hawtin, Vril, Charlotte De Witte, Sasha, Benjamin Demage any many more..



Fresh off of a remix for Grimes’ “My Name is Dark”, producer Julien Bracht has been powering through CV19 studio seclusion on full-power, with a distinct vision for brighter days ahead. Bracht’s new album, “Now Forever One,” an emblem of dark analog synthwave, is set to drop June 11. Bracht’s first solo album under his own namesake is cut with surgical precision for the shoegazing astral sound travellers who long to break out of their pandemic quarantines, and reconvene for techno-induced ascension. The album’s first single, “Melancholia,” and it’s accompanying video, is already breaking hearts and charts. An exquisite sonic hybrid of communal revelry and profound introspection, “Now Forever One,” focuses Bracht’s multilayered craftsmanship on resolving this era’s angst with sensory exploration and optimism.



As a lifelong drummer, Bracht’s insatiable musical energy lead him to bang out his first 3 EPs within one year of first being signed in 2011-12. In 2015 he founded the band Lea Porcelain with Markus Nikolaus in London. Their hypnotic post-rock debut release in 2017, “Hymns to the Night,” gained instant acclaim from UK tastemakers Lauren Laverne, Steve Lamacq and Zane Lowe, to name a few. The lads broke back onto the international stage with dates on several major festivals around Europe, including the Leeds/Reading Festival, Great Escape Brighton and Latitude. Rich output combined with the inclusion of live drums in his solo live sets quickly gained Bracht recognition and slots on the global tour circuit.

“Now Forever One” forges Julien Bracht’s transition from techno djing, while continuing the explorations of texture and timbre over functional song structures from Lea Porcelain, to a more open-ended search for the aural sublime — the substrate on which music, life and light glide to create momentary nodes of meaning in an increasingly meaningless sociopolitical atmosphere. These are crucial themes to Bracht’s process and approach. “The intention in my music is to strengthen people’s awareness and minds… I want us all to gather in spirit and stick together.”

The album exemplifies Bracht’s hunt for elemental juxtaposition with the warm Prophet 6’s sawtooth howls and bright pads against chillingly indifferent pulsing basslines and percussion. Clocking in at just under 65 minutes, “Now Forever One’s” tracks are sequenced to take the listener through the full emotional arch of a 15-hour rave, with an emphasis on those moments of collective epiphany where heaving techno floors become the perfect microcosm for an idealistic and interconnected future. Interspersed with improvisational one-takes, the album submerges the listener in polyrhythmic meditations, of which “Streets” and “Nocturne” are standout examples, and soars on the vaulted synth melodies of future dance floor favourites “Melancholia” and “Dreams of Euphoria.” Sascha Ring of Apparat & Moderat puts it perfectly: “I played “Melancholia” the night I got it at Mutek Festival in Mexico City, and instantly knew it’ll shine on a big floor at the right time. It’s just the right balance of majestic melodic deepness.” The sounds are both triumphant and exploratory.

Greater than the sum of its parts, Bracht’s latest release hints at the artist’s emerging potential for nailing our moment’s zeitgeist; learning to live smaller while constantly seeking higher heights. Inhabiting the fertile ground between solitary rumination and dance-floor convenance, the launch of “Now Forever One’s” lunar expedition into the techno oblivion of pandemic lockdown is oddly fitting.

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

After enduring a year like 2020, no one could have possibly expected Al Jourgensen to stay silent on the maelstrom of the past 12 months. As the mastermind behind pioneering industrial outfit Ministry, Jourgensen has spent the last four decades using music as a megaphone to rally listeners to the fight for equal rights, restoring American liberties, exposing exploitation and putting crooked politicians in their rightful place—set to a background of aggressive riffs, searing vocals and manipulated sounds to drive it home.
As Jourgensen watched the chaos that befell the world during the height of a global pandemic and the tensions rising from one of the most important elections in American history, he seized on the opportunity to write, spending quarantine holed up in his self-built home studio—Scheisse Dog Studio— along with engineer Michael Rozon and girlfriend Liz Walton to create Ministry’s latest masterpiece, Moral Hygiene (out October 1 on Nuclear Blast Records). Anchored by last year’s leadoff track “Alert Level”—which asks listeners to internalize the question “How concerned are you?”—the 10 songs on this upcoming 15th studio album cover the breadth of the current dilemmas facing humanity, while ruminating on the sizable impact of COVID-19, the inevitable effects of climate change, consequences of misinformed conspiracies and the stakes in the fight for racial equality. And most importantly doing so with the lens of what we as a society are going to do about it all.
Moral Hygiene comes on the heels of Ministry’s acclaimed 2018 album AmeriKKKant (hailed by Loudwire as Jourgensen’s own “state of the union” address) that was written as a reaction to Donald J. Trump being elected president—though Jourgensen says this new album is more informational and reflective in tone. “With AmeriKKKant I was in shock that Trump won. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to do something. Because I believe if you are a musician or an artist you should be expressing what’s going on around you through your art. It’s going to happen whether you do it consciously or unconsciously. Moral Hygiene however has progressed even further into a cautionary tale of what will happen if we don’t act. There’s less rage, but there’s more reflection and I bring in some guests to help cement that narrative.”
In addition to recruiting long-time cohort Jello Biafra (Jourgensen’s partner in the side project Lard) for the quirky earworm “Sabotage Is Sex,” other guest appearances include guitarist Billy Morrison (Billy Idol/Royal Machines) on a rendition of The Stooges hit “Search & Destroy.”
Another standout track is “Believe Me,” featuring a throwback vocal style from Jourgensen that harkens back to his singing on Twitch and cult classic “(Every Day Is) Halloween.” The song came out of a jam session with Morrison, Cesar Soto and sampling from Liz Walton, and reminded Jourgensen of his formative days at Chicago Trax Studios where communal ideas were constantly informing early Ministry records. “’Believe Me’ had such an old school vibe I wanted to bring back old school vocals. …It’s funny how things come back to you,” says Jourgensen, also reflecting on Ministry turning 40 in 2021.

With the release of Moral Hygiene, Jourgensen is more positive than before. “This may sound crazy but I’m more hopeful about 2021 than I have been in two decades at least,” he says. “Because I do see things changing; people are starting to see through all the bullshit and want to get back to actual decorum in society. We could just treat each other nicely and be treated nicely in return. I never thought Ministry would be in the position of preaching traditional values, but this is the rebellion now.”

Five years after the release of ‘Pressure Loss’ the modern master of electronic minimalism Nicola Ratti returns to Where To Now? in collaboration with Japanese MC ‘MA’, for a suite of submerged, outsider Trip-Hop.

‘Shinkai’ meets at the crossroads of the gloomy sonic snapshot world of Tricky, the South London DIY avant pop bloom of Curl/Mica Levi, the outer fringes of Hip-Hop heralded by the Anticon crew, and the deep textured minimalism of Machinfabriek.

‘Shinkai’ heralds the first time Nicola Ratti has worked with a vocalist, and MA’s unique brand of ritualistic vocal methods and experimental approaches to intonation and inflexion only enhances Ratti’s otherworldly soundscapes. The depth of meaning behind MA’s lyrics further expands this sprawling sound world, revealing a twisted beauty, a deep insight into the melancholic world MA reflects upon within his abstract wordplay – on ‘Suiso’ MA laments above Ratti’s mourning electronics….

“A ship with the wind in the sails erased a path to the skies.

Gone forever,
In sandy finality,
A scene never to be repeated,
Never to be understood.

Never to hatch,
Dreams of never continuing beyond the crossroads
A painting dissipates as the allure runs dry
Without consulting the dusk, dawn never arrives.

Agonising over the silence brought on by a stumble,
Attacked from all angles until I find my ground once more.
What comes next does not matter - just as long as it comes.
A not-so-distant-future, born from certain uncertainty.

Let me face it with wavering reservations,
Bury me in it
My sins left unanswered
Cover the snow on which it falls.

An unthawing aquarium.
An unanswering aquarium.

Hiding, evolving, recollecting, transferring,
A precarious contradiction befalls.
Timeframes cut, edited and replaced with resentment
The ritual aesthetics of a secret ceremony.

The thoughts of once again,
Fills me with dread and rage.
Painted in blood.

Alas, it was fun...”

On the surface this is an unlikely (yet inspired) collaboration – MA has been a part of the Tokyo Hip-Hop underground for many years, over which time he has stylistically leapt into noisier, more experimental territories. We have Rabih Beaini to thank for shining a light on MA’s talents, with the 2019 LP ‘AMA’ being released on Morphine records, and Beaini opening new doors for experimentation and collaboration.

‘Shinkai’ was composed and recorded between January and April 2020. The pair had met a couple of times in Japan first and then in Europe, undertaking a live collaborative experiment combining sounds and words that had not been designed to be performed together, ‘Shinkai’ reflects the fluidity of this encounter and is in essence a consequence of it.

Ratti assigns the following poetic grounding to the intentions and thematic form of the album – “Shinkai means deep sea, a place most of us will never see except on the surface. The sea depths do not belong to us, they are not places for us, we do not know them and they disturb us, they are a material that we can look at without seeing. I have always thought that height, verticality in general, was not a familiar dimension except in relation to our physicality. The horizon reassures us, the depth disturbs us. The Italian language is written and read horizontally, from left to right, the Japanese language can be written vertically and read from right to left. Does the horizon still reassure us?”

40 mins of brexit gush from the Hair & Treasure crew. Recorded live at Archers Tower in 2019 at the frenzied soapy
heights of the media whoopee shit pie.

‘’Just the right amount of glue.’’

Rating 2.9.’’