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Bjarki launches creative hub Differance Engine with new four-track EP, ‘Look At Yourself Pt.1’

The project sees the founder combine with creative Thomas Harrington-Rawle, building on the pair's recent AV show ‘Look At Yourself’ with a wealth of new projects and releases slated for 2023.

DJ, producer, live artist and label owner Bjarki, full name Bjarki Rúnar Sigurðarson, launches his latest creative project Differance Engine and label Differance with a brand new EP in February. Welcoming a new home for the Icelandic favourite to release and showcase audio-visual projects, the creation of Differance Engine sees him reunite with London-based creative and partner-in-crime Thomas Harrington-Rawle - the creator of Care More, featured on Nowness, ARTE and more.

Set to become the central focus for all things creative, Difference Engine will serve as a diverse ‘mother hub’ for a myriad of new projects from the pair, including GUM Magazine - an experimental print publication set to challenge existing publications and zines with a focus real conversations and forward-thinking audiovisual work - while also absorbing Bjarki’s longstanding imprint bbbbbb recors next year. The launch arrives on the heels of the duo's recent conceptual audiovisual show ‘Look At Yourself’ exploring and experimenting with ‘AI’ technology during ADE at Amsterdam’s renowned Nxt Museum, with forthcoming appearances in Foligno, Italy on 29th December and in London in the New Year.

Opening 2023, the label boss unveils the first EP in a three-part series, ‘Look At Yourself Part 1’. Comprised of four expansive originals, the release welcomes a first look at the new audiovisual direction crafted and shaped by Sigurðarson and Harrington-Rawle, featuring his recently released single ‘Do You Like Yourself’, and new single ‘I Wish I Was A Mode’ - out 9th December..

“Differance Engine is mine and Thomas’ new platform where we will be testing out all kinds of material. It will also operate as a label and an engine which will run both bbbbbb records and GUM Magazine. There are a lot of magazines dying out and having a hard time surviving. Thomas and I want to show some depth into the hearts and minds of individuals through music, visuals and with words. 2023 will be the year of vulnerability and real talks.” - Bjarki.

Wandering the line between perceived and actual reality, the four productions balance playful AI-generated voices with darker sonics, deconstructing societal issues and exploring human-to-human interaction within cyberspace. Accompanied by a warping video, B2 ‘I Wish I Was a Model’ is a trippy dive into Harrington-Rawle’s ever-evolving world as he warps and twists human subjects amongst their surroundings.

Drop a needle on Psyché's debut double-sider – the debut album is out on May 19th – and you'll see visions, or rather Mediterranean visions, be they of waves of heat shimmering above dunes of sand, or of women dancing around a bonfire on a rocky plain, or of bushy cliffs overlooking emerald-green and turquoise sea. The name Psyché is of course ancient Greek for 'soul' or 'mind',signifying the band's love of psychedelic funk, but also the wide range of Mediterranean influences – from Southern Europe to the Balkan Peninsula, and from Anatolia to the Maghreb – that provide an endless source of inspiration for their hypnotic sound and minimalist style.

Psyché members Marcello Giannini (Guru, Nu Genea, Slivovitz), Andrea De Fazio (Parbleu, Nu Genea, Funkin Machine) and Paolo Petrella (Nu Genea) have been active in the Naples music scene for almost two decades, most notably during the first wave of the new Neapolitan Power movement (Slivovitz, Revenaz Quartet). Over the years they have often crossed paths and collaborated on side projects in various genres (math-rock duo Arduo and, more recently, Italo-disco duo Fratelli Malibu), before working together as the rhythm section of Nu Genea's live band. Following their first tour with Nu Genea in 2018, they started Psyché with the intent of exploring more minimalist styles and making musicwith just a few elements.

A unique combination of psychedelia, groove and improvisation, the music of Psyché goes back to the roots of our future; it evokes visions of a mythical past, blending centuries-old music traditions and mixing them with modern genres. Like a warm Mediterranean breeze, it travels across lands, seas and eras, distilling essential rhythms and cosmic pulsations.

"Cumbia Mahàre", on side A of the 7-inch, dives deep into the origins of rhythm, drawing us into the movements of an imaginary ritual dance (the term mahàre was used in Southern Italian dialects to indicate witches). Through the interplay between minimal synths and exhilarating rhythmic patterns of drums, percussion, guitar and bass, Psyché take a fresh and bold approach to contemporary afrobeat and cumbia fusion.

"Ophis", on side B, is a mesmeric blend of African, Balkan and Turkish rhythms and sounds. Ethereal vocalizations and warm, hypnotic bass lines combine with psychedelic riffs and haunting melodies on guitar to evoke ancient cultures whose spiritslithers like a snake across the dunes of a sun-scorched desert.

After a tour in alternative venues and small festivals, Agar Agar announced a new album to be released on January 20th
and a European tour !

The duo composed of Clara Cappagli and Armand Bultheel is back with a video game developed by Jonathan Coryn, an
immersive visual and sound experience directly linked to the twelve new tracks.

"Player Non Player", name of the album and the video game, speaks about the intrusion in the intimacy, the need to escape
from the finished borders… or even dragons !

A whole universe to discover live !

Nicola Dal Sacco treats us to an acid-soaked quartet for his debut solo EP on Aquaregia, a tantalizing follow-up to the Italian producer's contribution to the Acid Analects VA series.

Setting the tone, the title track, "Wirrwarr", revs up with driving drums and swirling pads - a sunrise escapade along a mountain pass. As daybreak approaches, the breakdown hits, introducing warm beaming pads. On the second leg, the journey continues with "Gelato", a spellbinder that melds serpentine acid lines with a vintage flair, navigating hairpins and snaking through narrow hillside corridors; vertigo ensues.

"Parapiglia" continues the trip with an eerie and enchanting lowlight drive. Melancholic acid whines while lush ethereal pads swaddle; a haunting mist rolling over the road. A deep closer, "Linea" guides us down the final stretch through the foothills with a viscous groove and chilled out atmosphere; the final knock back down into first gear.

With the verve of the early onset of a love affair, Julian Muller’s and MRD’s first release on NALI isn’t shy of evoking deep feelings on the backdrop scattered bass lines. The four-track EP draws from transcendental soundscapes and blends them with well-crafted solid techno. Hopeful, revolutionary and yet club driven, the vocals are pop-leaning with a hint of the aesthetics of popularized club culture that came up in the late 90ies. A promising kick-start for the freshly conceived label and its musical agenda.

Repress

"Contravention" is the second EP from Yant on Setaoc Mass's SK_eleven imprint. Yant, The Mancunian wonderkid makes the style of techno which is pushing boundaries with each release. This particular EP features four fast paced tracks with distinct personality. Contrasting solid drums, spiralling synths and psychoacoustic elements that makes Yant's sound so distinct and recognizable.

Tape
"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

The always superb Sounds Of The City comes through here with some freshness and newness here via their newly minted 'Sounds Of The City, Dark' series. It finds the French outfit Catalogue debuting on the label with a sound that brings a different perspective to the new post-punk movement. Their sound is a mixing pot of an array of different influences and what you get is music that will get you nodding to the grooves while your mind gets lost exploring synthetic elements, angular guitar riffs, robotic rhythms and lovely deep bass.

‘’Ace Todmorden label makes a significant discovery on its own doorstep: a superb cache of ‘loner folk’ songs recorded in the early-70s by Hebden Bridge’s answer to Nick Drake’’ UNCUT PLAYLIST

"This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.” Benjamin Myers
"Defiantly Northern and out of this world" Folk Radio

Anti-counter culture loner folk from a teenage attic in the heart of rural Northern hippiedom.
Today the valley town of Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire is world-renowned as something of a bohemian backwater. It wasn’t like this back in the late 1960s and the early 1970s, when a disparate selection of radicals, drop-outs, heads, musicians, artists and writers started to be attracted to the Calder Valley. Local lad and future poet laureate Ted Hughes called the area “the fouled nest of industrialisation”.
Over time, those seeds of radicalism and collectivism ensured Hebden Bridge evolved into a place where people could be themselves and all shades of individual oddness not only tolerated but actively encouraged. But back at the turn of the dreary 1970s it remained a monochrome world defined by its unforgiving surrounding landscapes, where the old gritstone over-dwellings were stained with soot and rain lashed down for weeks.
It was here that Trevor Beales, who was born in 1953, grew up, and from where he drew musical and lyrical inspiration.
Perhaps it was this dual nationality heritage, unusual in the valley’s largely white working class population at the time, that gave the teenager Trevor Beale’s music an outsider’s perspective. The discovery of Bob Dylan, Django Reinhardt, The Byrds and James Taylor at a young age, lead to him picking up a guitar at the age of ten, and he was soon writing his own originals and performing them at local (though often remote) folk clubs and pubs.
Recorded in the attic of the family home at Ivy Bank in Charlestown on the verdant wooded slopes at the edge of Hebden Bridge between 1971 and 1974, these early recordings are collected here for the first time and mark Trevor Beales long-overdue solo debut.
In these songs is a suffer-no-fools sense of realism that is defiantly Northern, yet also expresses a worldliness that belies Beales’ young years, whilst also showcasing an inherent storyteller’s ear for narrative. Here is a postcard from the past at that crucial musical period of transition, when the idealistic exponents of the 1960s emerged into an austere new decade that was to be shaped by strikes, rising unemployment and economic upheaval.
Two aspects of this music make it remarkable: Beales’ natural ability showcases a sophisticated guitar-picking style that was leagues ahead of many of his (older, more recognised) contemporaries. This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Dave Evans, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.
Secondly, his lyrics are a far cry from either the naïve bedroom scribblings of a teenager who has barely left his upland home, nor do they fall foul of the type of lazy cliches and sub-Tolkien imagery that was still in abundance in the early 1970s. Most remarkably the earliest songs here were laid down less than a year after he left school (an unearthed report written by his headteacher on July 3rd 1970 noted he had “a considerable ability and interest in music”, though his education ended abruptly when he simply walked out of a science lesson one sunny day while at sixth form, never to return).
Trevor’s music is grounded in reality – his reality. ‘Then I’ll Take You Home’, for example, considers the Guru Marajai, who encouraged his acolytes to give over their worldly possessions, yet who drove a Rolls Royce and lived like a playboy. Unsurprisingly, this latest in a long line of spiritual charlatans found several followers in Hebden Bridge, and Beales casts a disdainful eye over the growing popularity for such false prophets.
With its ancient narratives and propensity for myth-making, folk has certainly produced it’s fair share of cult figures who have enjoyed rediscovery or career resurgence and with this debut compilation of home recordings, rescued from cassette tapes, Trevor Beales might just be the latest addition. Certainly he was the real deal.
Crucially, Beales' music is never jaded or cynical, but instead possesses a poet’s ear, a strong sense of self and some sound critical faculties. And much of it recorded at an age when he could neither vote nor order a pint of heavy.
Trevor Beales died suddenly and unexpectedly on March 29th 1987, aged 33. He left behind Christine and their young child Lydia.

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Eric D. Johnson rarely lingers at one location too long. As a kid growing up in the Midwest, Johnson's family moved around a lot, but it wasn't until he became a touring musician years later that motion became a central part of his identity. That transient lifestyle stoked an enduring reverence for the world he watched pass by through a van window. A sense of place is a unifying theme he's revisited with Fruit Bats throughout its many lives. From the project's origins in the late '90s as a vehicle for Johnson's lo-fi tinkering to the more sonically ambitious work of recent years, Fruit Bats has often showcased love songs where people and locations meld into one. It's a loose song structure that navigates what he calls "the geography of the heart." "The songs exist in a world that you can sort of travel from one to another," says Johnson. "There are roads and rivers between these songs." Those pathways extend straight through the newest Fruit Bats album, aptly titled A River Running to Your Heart . Self-produced by Johnson_a first for Fruit Bats_with Jeremy Harris at Panoramic House just north of San Francisco, it's Fruit Bats' tenth full-length release and one that finds the project in the middle of a creative resurgence. After two decades of making music, hard-earned emotional maturity has seeped into Johnson's songs, resulting in a more complex sound that's connected with audiences like no other previous version of Fruit Bats. A River Running to Your Heart represents the fullest realization of that creative vision to date. It's a sonically diverse effort that largely explores the importance of what it means to be home, both physically and spiritually. And while that might seem like a peculiar focus for an artist who's constantly in motion, for Fruit Bats, home can take many forms_from the obvious to the obscure. Lead single "Rushin' River Valley" is a self-propelled love song written about Johnson's wife that clings to the borrowed imagery of the place where she grew up in northern California. Then, there's the gentle and unfussy acoustic ballad "We Used to Live Here," which looks back to a time of youthful promise and cheap rent. But the wistful "It All Comes Back" is perhaps the most stunning and surprising track on the album, Johnson's production skills on full display. Built upon intricate layers of synths, keyboards, and guitars, it's a pitch-perfect blend of tone and lyricism that taps into our shared apprehensions and hopes for a post-pandemic life. "We lost some time / But we can make it back / Let's take it easy on ourselves, okay?" sings a world-weary but ultimately reassuring Johnson in the song's opening lines. It's the kind of performance that makes you hope Fruit Bats stays in this one place, at least for a little while longer.

BLUE & BONE VINYL

Eric D. Johnson rarely lingers at one location too long. As a kid growing up in the Midwest, Johnson's family moved around a lot, but it wasn't until he became a touring musician years later that motion became a central part of his identity. That transient lifestyle stoked an enduring reverence for the world he watched pass by through a van window. A sense of place is a unifying theme he's revisited with Fruit Bats throughout its many lives. From the project's origins in the late '90s as a vehicle for Johnson's lo-fi tinkering to the more sonically ambitious work of recent years, Fruit Bats has often showcased love songs where people and locations meld into one. It's a loose song structure that navigates what he calls "the geography of the heart." "The songs exist in a world that you can sort of travel from one to another," says Johnson. "There are roads and rivers between these songs." Those pathways extend straight through the newest Fruit Bats album, aptly titled A River Running to Your Heart . Self-produced by Johnson_a first for Fruit Bats_with Jeremy Harris at Panoramic House just north of San Francisco, it's Fruit Bats' tenth full-length release and one that finds the project in the middle of a creative resurgence. After two decades of making music, hard-earned emotional maturity has seeped into Johnson's songs, resulting in a more complex sound that's connected with audiences like no other previous version of Fruit Bats. A River Running to Your Heart represents the fullest realization of that creative vision to date. It's a sonically diverse effort that largely explores the importance of what it means to be home, both physically and spiritually. And while that might seem like a peculiar focus for an artist who's constantly in motion, for Fruit Bats, home can take many forms_from the obvious to the obscure. Lead single "Rushin' River Valley" is a self-propelled love song written about Johnson's wife that clings to the borrowed imagery of the place where she grew up in northern California. Then, there's the gentle and unfussy acoustic ballad "We Used to Live Here," which looks back to a time of youthful promise and cheap rent. But the wistful "It All Comes Back" is perhaps the most stunning and surprising track on the album, Johnson's production skills on full display. Built upon intricate layers of synths, keyboards, and guitars, it's a pitch-perfect blend of tone and lyricism that taps into our shared apprehensions and hopes for a post-pandemic life. "We lost some time / But we can make it back / Let's take it easy on ourselves, okay?" sings a world-weary but ultimately reassuring Johnson in the song's opening lines. It's the kind of performance that makes you hope Fruit Bats stays in this one place, at least for a little while longer.

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

In his South London flat, James Howard gestures apologetically at the mess of books, lined A4 paper and stationary at his desk. “I butcher poetry for a living,” he explains, “It isn’t a pretty job, but someone has to do it.” This being 2022, every emerging musician needs a side-hustle to keep the house warm. In the daytime, our host writes study guides to help teachers teach poetry to pupils who would rather be elsewhere. “I make sure the poems are clinically dead by the time they reach the schools.”
An explanation punctuated by a mildly contrite shrug makes you want to lean forward and remind Howard about some of the stuff other people are doing for a living. And, more to the point, aren’t doing. Which brings us to the real matter at hand. For Howard, foregrounding his own songs hasn’t always come naturally. An enthusiastic collaborator, he made two well-received albums with his previous band Blue House and played with the likes of Rozi Plain, Alabaster dePlume and his wife Dana Gavanski, as well as running his own music night with Sam Tyler in London, Incredible Society. It’s important to mention these creative hook-ups because Howard feels that, in one way or another, they all helped to give form and shape to the lilting lunar lullabies that would ultimately comprise his ravishing solo debut Peek-A-Boo. 

Joel Vandroogenbroeck was an arranger, conductor, producer and, above all, a unique multi-instrumentalist in the world of music. The Belgian artist was also famous for being the only permanent member of the group Brainticket and the main promoter of its creativity, often renewed with the contribution of exotic instruments. At the dawn of the Seventies, this versatile musician began a parallel life as a composer of singular music libraries tailored to comment documentary images. “L'Immagine Del Suono” was one of them, originally released by Italy's Flirt Records and now repressed on vinyl
by Musica Per Immagini for the first time. This album circulated, however, unnoticed in a limited number of copies among insiders, only rediscovered later by fans, thus raising Joel Vandroogenbroeck as a real pioneer of ambient and new age music.

It is appropriate to consider the twelve short-lived pieces of L'Immagine Del Suono” as a sort of continuous and visionary experiment, with the addition of electronic gasps, a strong dose of inevitable psychedelia, fragments of synthesized jazz, all coming from experiences both internal and external, hallucinatory and hedonistic. All of this combined creates a mysterious and abstract hybrid. Sonic raw material is sculpted with artisanal care, at times twisted and cryptic, characterized by a transversal irony, to the point that the interference of rock elements in the course of the set divert the listener's attention and momentarily interrupt the flow of consciousness. “L'Immagine Del Suono” is a concentrated example of the avant-garde, free from categorisation of any kind, developed in a non-commercial key and, equally, is drawn from a direct line via what was previously expressed within the folds of the then contemporary works of Brainticket.

The Endless Coloured Ways is a collection of songs by legendary singer/ songwriter, Nick Drake, performed and recorded by over 30 incredible artists from a range of different backgrounds, genres, age groups and audiences. From Fontaines D.C to Guy Garvey, and Aurora to Feist, each artist has offered their own incredible take on a timeless classic. - Second in a collection of five 7" singles - - Limited stock - - Gatefold lancing sleeve -

Mit der Veröffentlichung des ersten Full-Length-Albums "Entropic Reflections Continuum: Dimensional Unravel" wurde sofort deutlich, dass VoidCeremony einen Weg beschritten, den nur wenige gehen. Das Album bewies, dass Death Metal mit dem gleitenden, kontrollierten Chaos und dem geschmeidigen Fluss eines Jazz-Quartetts dargeboten werden kann und den Hörer dennoch in einem Kerker gefangen hält, mit wenig HP, ohne Zaubersprüche und umgeben von tödlichen Dämonen.

"Threads of Unknowing" ist eine Reise, die frühere Konzepte wieder aufleben lässt und immer progressivere und technischere Kompositionen hervorbringt. Mastermind und Gitarrist/Sänger Garrett Johnson sowie Gitarrenvirtuose Phil Tougas (Atramentus, Chthe'ilist, Worm, First Fragment) teilen sich hier den Gesang und die Leadgitarre, während Bass-Gott Damon Good sowohl den bundierten als auch den fretless Bass meisterhaft beherrscht und Schlagzeuger Charlie Koryn nicht nur Geschwindigkeit und Brutalität, sondern auch eine feine Mischung aus Präzision und Improvisation aus dem Jazz-Fusion einbringt. Das Endergebnis ist VoidCeremony und ihr unverkennbarer Sound: Zeitschmelzender Death Black Fusion.

Mit einem treffenden Coverbild, das die lyrische und philosophische Vision einer alten und vergessenen Zukunft darstellt, scheint VoidCeremony selbst in einer alternativen Death Metal-Zeitlinie zu operieren, die einst nur kurz präsentierte und bald für mehr kommerzielle Attraktivität zurückgelassen wurde. Doch das Portal hat sich wieder geöffnet und die Verschmelzung dieser grenzenlosen Möglichkeiten und Richtungen wird nun wieder direkt hervorgebracht.

- Das erste Album in voller Länge seit dem Debüt "Entropic Reflections Continuum" von 2020
- Die Vinyl-Version enthält eine Klappeinlage
- Cover-Gemälde von Juanjo Castellano (Majesties, The Black Dahlia Murder, etc.)
- Die Band besteht aus Mitgliedern von Atramentus, Worm, Mournful Congregation, Stargazer, Ascended Dead, Incantation, Chthe'ilist und First Fragment
- Gemischt und gemastert, mit zusätzlichen Synthies von Gabriele Gramaglia von Cosmic Putrefaction
- FFO: Stargazer, Pestilence, Chthe'ilist, Morbid Angel, Immolation, The Chasm, Aenigmatum, Atheist, Timeghoul, Liers in Wait, Innana

Mit der Veröffentlichung des ersten Full-Length-Albums "Entropic Reflections Continuum: Dimensional Unravel" wurde sofort deutlich, dass VoidCeremony einen Weg beschritten, den nur wenige gehen. Das Album bewies, dass Death Metal mit dem gleitenden, kontrollierten Chaos und dem geschmeidigen Fluss eines Jazz-Quartetts dargeboten werden kann und den Hörer dennoch in einem Kerker gefangen hält, mit wenig HP, ohne Zaubersprüche und umgeben von tödlichen Dämonen.

"Threads of Unknowing" ist eine Reise, die frühere Konzepte wieder aufleben lässt und immer progressivere und technischere Kompositionen hervorbringt. Mastermind und Gitarrist/Sänger Garrett Johnson sowie Gitarrenvirtuose Phil Tougas (Atramentus, Chthe'ilist, Worm, First Fragment) teilen sich hier den Gesang und die Leadgitarre, während Bass-Gott Damon Good sowohl den bundierten als auch den fretless Bass meisterhaft beherrscht und Schlagzeuger Charlie Koryn nicht nur Geschwindigkeit und Brutalität, sondern auch eine feine Mischung aus Präzision und Improvisation aus dem Jazz-Fusion einbringt. Das Endergebnis ist VoidCeremony und ihr unverkennbarer Sound: Zeitschmelzender Death Black Fusion.

Mit einem treffenden Coverbild, das die lyrische und philosophische Vision einer alten und vergessenen Zukunft darstellt, scheint VoidCeremony selbst in einer alternativen Death Metal-Zeitlinie zu operieren, die einst nur kurz präsentierte und bald für mehr kommerzielle Attraktivität zurückgelassen wurde. Doch das Portal hat sich wieder geöffnet und die Verschmelzung dieser grenzenlosen Möglichkeiten und Richtungen wird nun wieder direkt hervorgebracht.

- Das erste Album in voller Länge seit dem Debüt "Entropic Reflections Continuum" von 2020
- Die Vinyl-Version enthält eine Klappeinlage
- Cover-Gemälde von Juanjo Castellano (Majesties, The Black Dahlia Murder, etc.)
- Die Band besteht aus Mitgliedern von Atramentus, Worm, Mournful Congregation, Stargazer, Ascended Dead, Incantation, Chthe'ilist und First Fragment
- Gemischt und gemastert, mit zusätzlichen Synthies von Gabriele Gramaglia von Cosmic Putrefaction
- FFO: Stargazer, Pestilence, Chthe'ilist, Morbid Angel, Immolation, The Chasm, Aenigmatum, Atheist, Timeghoul, Liers in Wait, Innana

Last year's Big Time brought Angel Olsen to a deeper, truer sense of self than ever before. Borne from the twin stars of grief and love, the album delivered beautiful sense of certainty, the sure-footed sound of an artist fully, finally at home with herself. But within that wisdom comes the realization that there is no finish line, no destination or static end point to life while you're living it, and Forever Means collects songs from the Big Time sessions that hold this common theme. They are, in Olsen's words, "in search of something else." "I was somewhere traveling," says Olsen, "stopped for a few days and wandering the city, and I was thinking `what does `forever' really mean? What are the things I'm seeking in friendship or love, and how can `forever' be attainable if we're always changing?'" Sitting with the reality of that entropy, Olsen realized "maybe the secret to ongoing love is to embrace change as part of love itself, that forever must have something to do with playing, looking, constantly searching things out for yourself, never letting yourself think you're finished learning or exploring." `Forever'", says Olsen, "remains curious while trying also to be kind and honest." All this packs into the four precious songs that comprise Forever Means, songs from Olsen's roads traveled and the ones ahead. "Nothing's free / like breaking free" Olsen sings, comfortable with the costs of her clarity, her heart and voice fixed on the present, the future, the not-yet-known and the beautifully unknowable

Last year's Big Time brought Angel Olsen to a deeper, truer sense of self than ever before. Borne from the twin stars of grief and love, the album delivered beautiful sense of certainty, the sure-footed sound of an artist fully, finally at home with herself. But within that wisdom comes the realization that there is no finish line, no destination or static end point to life while you're living it, and Forever Means collects songs from the Big Time sessions that hold this common theme. They are, in Olsen's words, "in search of something else." "I was somewhere traveling," says Olsen, "stopped for a few days and wandering the city, and I was thinking `what does `forever' really mean? What are the things I'm seeking in friendship or love, and how can `forever' be attainable if we're always changing?'" Sitting with the reality of that entropy, Olsen realized "maybe the secret to ongoing love is to embrace change as part of love itself, that forever must have something to do with playing, looking, constantly searching things out for yourself, never letting yourself think you're finished learning or exploring." `Forever'", says Olsen, "remains curious while trying also to be kind and honest." All this packs into the four precious songs that comprise Forever Means, songs from Olsen's roads traveled and the ones ahead. "Nothing's free / like breaking free" Olsen sings, comfortable with the costs of her clarity, her heart and voice fixed on the present, the future, the not-yet-known and the beautifully unknowable

Five years since his last solo outing, Pev makes a very welcome return on his own label for Livity Sound's 60th release.

Having focused on expanding the innovative scope of Livity through a prolific release schedule, frequent label nights and the 10th anniversary Molten Mirrors compilation, on the 'Pulse E.P.', Pev delivers on his reputation for inventive, sharply-focused club music with four lean, focused club tracks across the tempo range.

From the crooked formation and pointillist bleeps of ‘Pulse I’ through the light-footed percussion and airy melodies of ‘Pulse II’ to ‘Pulse III’s strafing techno synths and ‘Pulse IV’s surefooted, bass-loaded house jack, it’s an EP of variation and consistency in equal measure. From the infectious, alien melodic lines to the elegant angles of the drums, not to mention the weighty subs, it’s all strikingly fresh and unmistakably Pev.

Livity Sound is a label set up by Peverelist in 2011 as a vehicle for a raw and exploratory strain of UK techno, rooted in the heritage of UK dance music and sound system culture. It has since become one of the UK's foremost protagonists for cutting edge underground electronic music.

The album The Skatalite was originally released in 1969 and contains some of the best tracks from the Skatalites cut for producer Duke Reid. It was recorded with the classic line-up, featuring Don Drummond on trombone, Jackie Mittoo on piano, and Jonny “Dizzy” Moore on the trumpet. This 12-track set includes “Eastern Standard Time”, “Dan-De-Lion” and “Yard Broom” amongst others.

The Skatalite is available as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on turquoise coloured vinyl.

Eurovison Collected compiles many winners of the Eurovision Song Contest, an annual competition organized by member countries of the European Union. The double album contains the #1 hit songs from earlier winners such as France Gall “Poupée De Cire, Poupée De Son” (France, 1965), Sandie Shaw “Puppet On A String” (United Kingdom,
1967), Sandra Kim “J’aime La Vie” (Belgium, 1986), Johnny Logan “Hold Me Now” (Ireland, 1987), Katrina & The Waves “Love Shine A Light (United Kingdom, 1997), Lordi “Hard Rock Hallelujah” (Finland,
2006), Loreen “Euphoria” (Sweden, 2012), Duncan Laurence “Arcade” (The Netherlands, 2019) and recent winners Måneskin “Zitti e Buoni” (Italy, 2021) and Kalush Orchestra “Stefania” (Ukraine, 2022).

Deluxe Eco Vinyl LP with 16 page lyric booklet! London slowcore band deathcrash have announced their new album Less, due March 31st via untitled (recs). Recorded at the UK's most remote studio in the Outer Hebrides, Less follows their critically acclaimed 2022 album, Return with a statement in reduction that turns out to be as powerful and potent as it is tender and introspective. "The mission statement was to be super minimal," says deathcrash singer Tiernan Banks. "Just simple and beautiful guitar parts and to be really bare. To be...less." Swiftly following Return, the band initially had no plans to make a full length. "The last thing we felt like doing was making another album," says bassist Patrick Fitzgerald. "It was like, 'let's do this little EP that's aesthetically quite different and pared down'." Less was always planned to be a statement in reduction but it soon became apparent that the songs the band were writing were significant, personal and, despite the intentions to strip things back, bigger. "As time went on, we started putting much more emotional weight into it and it became more important to us," says Banks. The result is a record that is as powerful and potent as it is tender and introspective, with arrangements that manage to feel refined yet detailed and with a deep emotional resonance at the core of the record. Banks' voice shifts from hushed whispers to guttural screams, one minute tapping into the kind of fragile beauty that artists like Elliott Smith managed so well, on tracks such as 'Duffy's' before unleashing a doom metal growl in thundering unison with the band on 'Empty Heavy'. The record has confirmed early press support from a number of UK publications, including a 4-page print feature in Loud & Quiet, a feature in Line of Best Fit, and early indications of support from Stereogum and a number of other U.S. publications too. A radio campaign will also be run for the second single 'Duffy's' and we expect support from BBC 6 Music, Apple Music and other tastemaker stations

Trey Gruber's posthumous debut double LP Herculean House of Cards. A compilation of early demos, studio demos, and live recordings. A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet's worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards. The 26-song 2xLP covers years of material, from home tape recordings, sessions at Mathew Roberts (Mild High Club) & Paul Cherry's home studio, to a studio session with Charles Glanders (Whitney) at Chicago's Foxhall Studios, along with audio taken at The Hideout during his last live performance, among others. Though Gruber was an unrelenting perfectionist who was constantly self-deprecating about his best demos, Herculean House of Cards is a wholly comprehensive and accurate reflection of his infectious charisma and raw songwriting. He had a charmingly distinct way with words but also could be disarmingly vulnerable. Like he was in life, Gruber never shied away from being open with his struggles with alcoholism and addiction. On the vivid opener "Eisenhower to the West Side," he sings in painstaking detail of, "A jail-skin cell, a junkies fight/Corner-boys full of grace/And Jesus Christ full of spite." He told then-future bandmate flautist Rebecca Ridge, "It's not some Lou Reed glorification of drugs _ `makes me feel like a man'_ I talk about the disconnect and the ugliness. They're sad pop songs." But even with the pain and the darkness in his lyrics, Gruber's songs had an unmistakable sense of hope and catharsis.

Trey Gruber's posthumous debut double LP Herculean House of Cards. A compilation of early demos, studio demos, and live recordings. A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet's worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards. The 26-song 2xLP covers years of material, from home tape recordings, sessions at Mathew Roberts (Mild High Club) & Paul Cherry's home studio, to a studio session with Charles Glanders (Whitney) at Chicago's Foxhall Studios, along with audio taken at The Hideout during his last live performance, among others. Though Gruber was an unrelenting perfectionist who was constantly self-deprecating about his best demos, Herculean House of Cards is a wholly comprehensive and accurate reflection of his infectious charisma and raw songwriting. He had a charmingly distinct way with words but also could be disarmingly vulnerable. Like he was in life, Gruber never shied away from being open with his struggles with alcoholism and addiction. On the vivid opener "Eisenhower to the West Side," he sings in painstaking detail of, "A jail-skin cell, a junkies fight/Corner-boys full of grace/And Jesus Christ full of spite." He told then-future bandmate flautist Rebecca Ridge, "It's not some Lou Reed glorification of drugs _ `makes me feel like a man'_ I talk about the disconnect and the ugliness. They're sad pop songs." But even with the pain and the darkness in his lyrics, Gruber's songs had an unmistakable sense of hope and catharsis.

Limited Whirlpool Blue Vinyl! Auckland, New Zealand post-punk group Guardian Singles return to Trouble In Mind for their follow-up to 2021's debut with "Feed Me To The Doves", a ten-track socio-political burner addressing our collective spiritual chaos that pulls influence from across the history of punk & permeates it into something decidedly Aotearoan & uniquely their own in ways that are both personal & universal. "Feed Me To The Doves" is the first album to feature the current, long-standing lineup of Thom Burton (guitar, vocals), Fiona Campbell (drums), Yolanda Fagan (bass), and Durham Fenwick (lead guitar). The band has been playing live together now for a few years & it shows. The songs herein vary from the deeply personal, to sketches or postcards, as Burton says "_scribbled while watching the dregs of a delirious culture war play out through broken smartphones and praline vape clouds." Expertly recorded at Neil Finn's Roundhead Studios in Auckland by engineer Steven Marr, who Burton says had a "great sense of being able to keep the urgency of the songs while adding lushness and keeping things sounding like they're about to break at any second". Marr helped turn the album's scrappy beginnings into something more cohesive and beautiful.

Berlin based producer Blush Response returns to Megastructure_ for his first full length release since 2021’s Reconstitution, NEUROSCAPE

9 tracks of absolutely screaming and energetic Post-Industrial Techno / IDM for those looking for sounds on the fringes of reality. Driving, pulsating, organic alien grooves populate the dense landscape of sound and showcase the next evolution in Blush’s sonic signature.

Neuroscape features collaborations from Bon Harris of Nitzer Ebb (a rare vocal appearance!) on Chained, and Richard Devine on Foldspace Transition – a track that was started in Devine’s studio in Atlanta and then completed in Berlin. Blush also makes his first apperance on vocals in nearly a decade, with the opening track, Submit.








h 8 Chained Feat. Bon Harris
Feat. Richard Devine

Red Vinyl

The Cinematic Orchestra haben anlässlich des 20-jährigen Jubiläums die erste Reissue ihres Klassikers, „Every Day“, angekündigt. Auf 3 LPs auf transparentem rotem Vinyl finden sich die Bonustracks „Oregon“ und „Horizon“ (feat. Niara Scarlett) sowie die beiden bisher unveröffentlichten Tracks „Semblance“ und „Flite“ (Original Version). Die Veröffentlichung enthält ein neues Artwork vom Designer des ursprünglichen Artworks von „Every Day“, Openmind, und eine Klapphülle mit Gilles Petersons Original-Linernotes. Außerdem wird eine Auswahl von bisher unveröffentlichten Fotos auf einer 12“-Karte präsentiert, darunter die Band im Rivoli Ballroom in London (fotografiert von Carl Fox) und J. Swinscoe mit Fontella Bass in der Nähe des Genfer Sees in der Schweiz (von Peter Williams).
In den zwei Jahrzehnten seit der bahnbrechenden Veröffentlichung des Albums ist der Einfluss der Band unüberhörbar geworden; Jazz ist überall um uns herum, mit gefeierten Künstler:innen, von Kamasi Washington über Tau5 und Koma Saxo bis hin zu Sons of Kemet und unzähligen mehr, London, Berlin und L.A. haben in letzter Zeit eine Szene hervorgebracht, die produktiver ist, als irgendjemand erwartet hätte. BADBADNOTGOOD haben Jazz-Soundtracks zu großen Modeschauen geliefert, und Kendrick Lamar hat - über den Rap-Umweg - das Genre an die Spitze der Charts gebracht. Die Art und Weise, wie sich The Cinematic Orchestra über ihre anfänglichen Jazz-Einflüsse hinaus zu einer Art transzendentaler Orchestrierung entwickelt hat, kombiniert mit der zeitgenössischen eleganten Elektronik, die heute von Künstler:innen wie Ólafur Arnalds und Floating Points verwendet wird - Künstler:innen, denen sie geholfen haben, den Weg zu ebnen - begann mit der Veröffentlichung von „Every Day“ wirklich Früchte zu tragen. Auf den sieben makellosen, schwebenden Tracks nimmt die Gruppe (angeführt von Gründungsmitglied J. Swinscoe und seinem langjährigen musikalischen Mitarbeiter Dominic Smith) die Hörer mit auf eine Reise durch klassischen Soul, Jazz, Chorsätze, versinkenden Horn-Riffs, pochenden Harfen-Linien, Minimalismus und vieles mehr - mit einer Seele, die tiefer als der Ozean ist. Und mit Gästen vom Kaliber eines Fontella Bass (Autor und Interpret des 60er-Jahre-Soul-Meisterwerks, „Rescue Me“ und Mitglied der Free-Jazz-Abtrünnigen, Art Ensemble of Chicago) und der britischen Rap-Legende Roots Manuva (dessen hochfliegender, philosophischer Beitrag zu „All Things To All Men“ ein absoluter Fan-Favorit ist) weiß man, dass man sich auf etwas Besonderes freuen darf. Pitchfork stimmte dem seinerzeit zu und bewertete das Album bei Veröffentlichung mit 8,6 von möglichen 10 Punkten.

Format: Limitierte rot-transparente Vinyl im Gatefold Sleeve mit vier Bonus Tracks von welchen einige bisher nicht auf Vinyl erhältlich waren inklusive 12” Fotokarte und Downloadcode

Brilliantly remastered (picture) LP/CD with new stunning artwork!
Lo-Fi India Abuse was recorded in 1998, some tracks are “pure” Muslimgauze and some are re-mixs of tracks from Systemwide’s “Sirius” CD (see also Systemwide meets Muslimgauze “at the City of the Dead” 12″). Nearly all of the tracks have hand percussion in varying tempos and intensities and at least 1/2 make use of electronic noise surges. The sound is very crisp and clean, extremely well produced, recorded and nicely varied throughout the length of the disc. Some track by track comments: “Antalya” is obviously from the same sessions as “Fakir Sind” seeing as it shares the same hand percussion sound, whistles, vocal wailing, cut-ups and delays. “Valencia Flames” sounds like a Systemwide remix. A dub bass line, hi-hat and background vocal of some sort are all obliterated by numerous delays, starts, stops and re-starts with an unpredictable nature in these cut-up tracks. “Al Souk Dub” injects background voices, market sounds and drones into the cut-up mix of slow hand percussion playing. “Catacomb Dub” and the final two tracks make use of twinkling synth waves, presumably a Systemwide sound source. “Dust of Saqqara” has a heavy pulsating electronic sound wave over an old beat box rhythm. “Android Cleaver” is brutal (as is “Nommos’ Afterburn”) hand percussion, jabs of noise and an oft repeated, unintelligible vocal sample. Yes, Lo-Fi India Abuse is yet another great Muslimgauze release, grab it!
All tracks recorded by Muslimgauze 1998
Some tracks are re-mixes from Systemwide’s “Sirius” album
Re-mastered by Višeslav Laboš
Sleeve by Oleg Galay
Originally released in 1999 via BSI Records (BSI 1999-3).

Welcome to the "Consume Land Flea Market". This is the atmospheric setting and at the same time the luminous title of the debut album of young producer Noayama. "It centers on the contradiction between turbo-capitalist consumerism and the desire for vintage stuff in all kinds of shapes and colors to escape reality for a bit. I think it's quite a nice and suitable metaphor for the position my generation is in right now" says the 21-year-old producer, musician and interdisciplinary artist.

On about 40 minutes, Noah Berger, who grew up near Munich, spans a wide musical arc with his alter ego Noayama. He combines Hip Hop aesthetics with playful Electronica and acts skillfully in the interstices of Pop. Hints of 70s Funk hedonism, Old-School House vibes and modern J-pop sensibilities can also be found on "Consume Land Flea Market." The binding agent of the album is Noayama's "Punk Attitude" which comes through clearly on his tracks and beats and is an elementary part of his producer DNA. "I just like to drift, it's very central to the way I work" adds Noah.

Just as important for him are intergenerational collaborations, which adorn his debut work in numerous ways. An illustrious round of artists is therefore represented on CLFM. It starts with young female rap artist Maassai from the New York underground scene who can be heard on the pulsating opener "Get You Back". Also from N.Y.C is Hprizm, a member of the legendary avant-garde rap group Anti-Pop Consortium, who is featured on the dark and gritty "I Went Left" and the bouncer "War." Funkstörung is also involved here. Not too much of a coincidence as Noah has been encouraged since his teenage days by his father Michael Fakesch, one half of the Glitch-hop pioneers who became famous in the late 90s. With "The Legendary Godmother of Japanese Electronica" Coppe' on "Majesty" and the German singer-songwriter her tree on the song "Flâner", introverted pieces have also found their place on CLFM. In addition multilingual verses with Silo Inf3rnx from the townships in Gugulethu on "Ingozi" and on top "the homies from the neighborhood" Anothr and Taprikk Sweezee who give the album further facets through their contribution.

Noayama combines elements and working methods of the last five decades in a relaxed manner and bundles them into a genuine piece of work. Emblematic of this approach is the choice of features. So is the gear he uses. He incorporates old synths (Roland Jupiter 8, Nordlead) and drum machines (Roland 808, Roland 909) with playful ease with common software tools. It's also pretty convenient that he's currently studying Digital Arts at the Kunstuni Linz. In fact, his semester project is the visualization of his own album which means that every single track and every interlude gets its own video. Well, Noayama is just a gambler.

All tracks from 2021 transfers and newly remastered - LP editions include a booklet featuring unseen photos and liner notes by Lenny Kaye, plus contributions from Nick Cave and Devendra Banhart // Karen Dalton's 1971 album, In My Own Time, stands as a true masterpiece by one of music's most mysterious, enigmatic, and enduringly influential artists. Celebrating the album's 50th anniversary, Light in the Attic is honored to present a newly remastered (2021) edition of the album on LP, CD, cassette, and 8-Track. All audio has been newly remastered by Dave Cooley, while lacquers were cut by Phil Rodriguez at Elysian Masters. A newly expanded booklet-featuring rarely seen photos, liner notes from musician and writer Lenny Kaye, and contributions from Nick Cave and Devendra Banhart-rounds out the CD (32-pgs) and LP (20-pgs) packages.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.