Buscar:ka§par

Brazilian experimental multi-instrumentalist Carla Boregas follows plates for Bokeh Versions and Hive Mind with a ghostly set of deep listening electronics that plays like a symphony for an imagined woodwind orchestra.

Carla Boregas is best known from her tenure in São Paulo's genre-bending experimental post-punk scene, playing in long-running outfit Rakta as well as other related offshoots. Her solo material has been knottier to unpick, here developing ideas from a collection of unfinished fragments and notebook scribbles exploring the possibility of finding a wind instrument that could be played collectively by several musicians. Coinciding with the pandemic, however, she soon realised the inherent risks involved with sharing breath and so the concept took a different direction, with added resonance.

Boregas developed a synthetic alternative, layering vocals and environmental recordings to suggest wind instrumentation without attempting to mimic it. The sounds here are airy, but rarely diegetic - on the title track, Boregas uses analog arpeggios and plucked, sustained tones to approximate the kosmische world of Ash Ra Tempel or more recently Emeralds, as if trapped in a wind tunnel, moved forward by an unseen force.

There's a whisper of the ancient past that harmonises with Wojciech Rusin's speculative medieval gasps, and Bloedneus & de Snuitkever's severely underheard ‘Milli Mille’, an examination of the ancient Greek aulos. On ’Grafia Do Invisível' the sound is completely different again, but the concept remains, using precise analog drones and minuscule timbral shifts to imitate the character of a wind instrument and simultaneously harmonise with the deep listening meditations of Éliane Radigue and Kali Malone.

A voice enters the frame on 'Sopro’, chopped into deviated gulps and syllables, creating a language that's unfamiliar and percussive. The use of breath is subtle, and vocalisations criss-cross between synths and faint whistles, forming an expression that's different from its predecessors but intrinsically interlinked. This is where ‘Pena Ao Mar’ excels, by viewing breath and its application in electronic music from multiple angles simultaneously. Fans of Lucy Duncombe, Lucrecia Dalt, or Sarah Davachi - don't miss this one.

Hell Yeah heads to Brazil and the cultured sounds of Pedro Bertho for a hot new 12" that features Mariana Gehring and remixes from Romain FX and My Friend Dario. The digital version includes two bonus cuts while the vinyl is the first to have all-new artwork by FJD.

Now based in France, inclusive party promoter Pedro Bertho’s music is a melting pot of sound that draws on his own personal heritage and a life spent digging for records. That means that afro rhythms, Italo melodies, rolling reggae, deep house, and plenty more all get mixed up into something new.

They have come on the likes of Cracki Records and always search out innovative ways to bring euphoria to the dance floor.

For the first tune, he works with Mariana Gehring, a Sao Paulo-based singer and composer influenced by new MPB and other signature Brazilian sounds like Forro, Maracatu and Samba.

Their excellent 'Tornei' is a mix of full-fat bass and sensuous vocals. Fizzing synths, percussion and FX bring the energy while Gehring arrives in the breakdowns to bring the spine-tingling soul. Romain FX is a scene mainstay, label head at fauve, boiler room veteran and has released on the likes of Kalahari oyster cult and many more.

His version is a retro workout with lush cosmic melodies and slinky grown-up grooves sure to get the floor full.

Next is 'Elephants au 5eme', a busy mix of analogue drums and hits, wild elephant trumpets and fleshy synths that bring unusual tropical heat to any party. The same track is remixed by label regular and new school Balearic boss my Friend Dario.

He plays with the vocals, layers in shimmering chords, and keeps things dubby to make for another of his signature grooves.

Der kanadische Sänger, Songwriter, Multiinstrumentalist & Producer Daniel Caesar zählt zu den Top 10 most streamed kanadischen Artists auf Spotify. Er veröffentlichte bisher 2 EPs und 2 Alben. Jetzt kehrt
er mit seinem neuen Album „Never Enough“ zurück. Dieses wird in physischer Form gleichzeitig auf CD als auch auf Vinyl erhältlich sein. Seine bisher erfolgreichsten Songs sind „Best Part“ (ft. H.E.R.), der
schon über 1 Mrd. Streams aufweisen kann, und sein Feature auf „Peaches‘‘ von Justin Bieber zusammen mit Giveon. Daniel Caesar durfte sich außerdem schon über einen Grammy-Award freuen. Er gewann in der Kategorie „Best R&B Performance‘‘ für den Song „Best Part‘‘ (feat. H.E.R) und gewann einen MTV Award in der Kategorie „Best Pop“ mit „Peaches“.

Mammal Hands announce spell-binding new album 'Gift from the Trees', their fifth studio album, pointing to subtle shifts and exciting new departures for the unique trio
"We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance..."
Mammal Hands fifth album 'Gift from the Trees' offers a fresh perspective on the unique trio's singular music. The first to be recorded in a residential studio, the band enjoyed the opportunity to go late into the night searching for a deeper, more organic experience, closer to both their writing process but also their trance-like live performances. While some of the music was pre-composed and had even been performed live, the band also enjoyed the opportunity to improvise ideas in the studio. Drummer Jesse Barrett explains:
We wanted to have a more immersive experience that felt closer to our writing process. One thing that was really important to us was feeling free to jam out ideas as they came to us. We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance and just follow that thread where it wants to go. Sometimes it's something as simple as a rhythmic, textural flow, like in Sleeping Bear.
There was also a conscious decision to move away from the sound and ambiance of the recording studio, with the band opting to engineer the record with their go-to live engineer Benjamin Capp before mixing the sessions with Greg Freeman in Berlin. The idea was to try and capture more of the energy of the band's captivating shows, saxophonist Jordan Smart explains:
Considering the group of tracks we had, it made sense to try and capture this process as organically and honestly as possible, and so a change in studio environment felt like the right move to us. Some of the tracks have a raw joy and energy that came with being able to play together again after a long period of time of having been apart, and capture that feeling of just being happy to be in a room with our instruments altogether again.
Whereas for pianist Nick Smart there was also the chance to really go deep into the band's music:
The new studio environment really opened us up to different ways of working and thinking because we could record at any hour of the day or night. I think this allowed us much more freedom to try unusual ideas and push elements of the music to extremes because we had the time to really focus in on the detail and work on things without time pressure. With some tracks, we were trying to find the boundaries of our playing ability and push beyond that point. With others, it was just getting into the right mindset and putting as much energy and emotion into the take as possible.'
The Welsh environment outside the studio doors seeped into the music presented on Gift from the Trees, with two recording sessions (one in winter and one in the spring) bringing different moods: one bleak and wintery, the other more hopeful and bright – an energy that permeates through tracks such as Kernel and Dimu.
Gift from the Trees opens with wonderfully elevating The Spinner which grew from one of Nick's piano parts and was developed and arranged into a complete tune without losing the feeling of constant flow and motion. It is almost like a dance, with the interaction of different melody parts and the doubling of certain parts melding together and fitting into the overall energetic flow, while Jesse's drums are both floating and deeply melodic. Riser aims to capture the band's raw energy and intriguingly is influenced by both breaks and modern drum production but also minimalist classical composition. Nightingale features the band at their most delicate and lyrical – a band favourite it draws heavily on modern folk with a beautifully realised melody that came unforced to pianist Nick Smart before being jammed out together. It was recorded early one morning, bringing an extra light and brightness to this beautiful performance.
Another album highlight is Dimu which utilises one of drummer Jesse Barret's favourite rhythmic devices from the Tabla repertoire and draws inspiration from Indian, Greek and Arabic music as well as modern folk arrangements. Dimu starts with saxophone over a bed of drones and percussion and moves through many different sections that frame and present the melodies in unique ways. The beguiling, intimate Deep within Mountains aims to place you in the room with the band as they play; it was recorded late at night to capture a dreamlike, liminal ambiance. The piano solo really reflects this mood and energy while the tenor is some of the softest and closest on the recording. Elsewhere, the remarkable Labyrinth started with what Nick describes as "some weird recording on my phone from a soundcheck, where Jordan was playing some crazy sounding bass clarinet part and I quickly recorded him", giving birth to a captivating, complex slice of propulsive 'almost' contemporary classical that like so much of the music on Gift from the Trees really couldn't be any other band than Mammal Hands.
Finally, the album draws to a close with the glorious Sleeping Bear, a tune that was wholly improvised in the studio. Nick and Jesse entered a simple but 'weird' locked groove and Jordan improvises melodies over the top. The track came about without any planning or thought; it was one of those special things that came by surprise and the band felt offered the perfect ending to their latest gift to us all: a deeply enthralling album that captures so much of what makes Mammal Hands a special band while mapping out new routes and paths for their beautiful, beguiling music.

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.

Limitiert auf 300 Exemplare
Die Wiener Beat-Instanz Fid Mella releaste 2022 sein Producer-Tape „Hella Mella Vol.1“. Jetzt gibt
es das Tape auch endlich auf Vinyl, mit Gastauftritten von Kamp, Wandl, Hunney Pimp, Giani,
Young Krillin, Drexor, Mister Mex und den Silk Mob-Kollegen Donvtello, Opti Mane &
Jamin.

Im klassischen Teleman-Stil ist 'Good Time/Hard Time' das bisher tanzflächenfreundlichste Album des heutigen Trios. Nachdem sich Keyboarder Jonny Sanders auf Film und Design konzentriert, übernimmt Peter Cattermoul dessen Part. Hiro Amamiya wechselt nahtlos zwischen Drumcomputer, Schlagzeug und manchem Keyboardsolo und fängt den Schwung ausgewählter Perlen aus ihren DJ-Sets ein, wie Metronomy, die Disco-Klassiker von Boney M, Giorgio Moroder, frühe House Music oder 80er-Vibes - alles getränkt im typischen Teleman-Blend aus erhebender Melancholie. 'Man muss die harten Zeiten erleben, um die guten im Leben zu schätzen', erklärt Tom. 'Die meisten Songs handeln von universellen Dingen, mit denen sich jeder identifizieren kann, die kleinen und einfachen Details über schwierige Verbindungen und deren Überwindung.'

Im klassischen Teleman-Stil ist 'Good Time/Hard Time' das bisher tanzflächenfreundlichste Album des heutigen Trios. Nachdem sich Keyboarder Jonny Sanders auf Film und Design konzentriert, übernimmt Peter Cattermoul dessen Part. Hiro Amamiya wechselt nahtlos zwischen Drumcomputer, Schlagzeug und manchem Keyboardsolo und fängt den Schwung ausgewählter Perlen aus ihren DJ-Sets ein, wie Metronomy, die Disco-Klassiker von Boney M, Giorgio Moroder, frühe House Music oder 80er-Vibes - alles getränkt im typischen Teleman-Blend aus erhebender Melancholie. 'Man muss die harten Zeiten erleben, um die guten im Leben zu schätzen', erklärt Tom. 'Die meisten Songs handeln von universellen Dingen, mit denen sich jeder identifizieren kann, die kleinen und einfachen Details über schwierige Verbindungen und deren Überwindung.'

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.

A1 - French artist aka Dylan Dylan hits first on the record with energetic groove, breaks and deep synths - that's how we do it!

A2 - HATT.D is a Belgian music maker. A truly moving track with a soothing bass and both broken and straight rhythms. The tune may conjure up images of tropical flora and fauna.

A3 - Dawn Again, a faraway Australian artist, hits with the charming track “I’m Like a Bird" - a minimalistic style house tune with catchy rhythms.

B1 - Manhood is a collaboration of two Russian artists, Denis Kazakov and Lachetto.
The boys wrap us in delicate breaks with cosmic sounds, as if to remind us that we are not alone in this universe.

B2 - German musician Palmate continues the vibe with his dreamy and slightly lo-fi deep house "departure," which sounds like you're going home with happy recollections after a fantastic time with old friends.

B3 - The conclusion of this story will be presented to us by Dj Bigspin, a musician originally from France who now lives in Copenhagen.

He reminds us with his melancholic deep acid hous

Eco Coloured Edition

Elena Tonra ist zwar keine passionierte Schwimmerin, aber der Sound auf dem neuen Daughter Album "Stereo Mind Game" klingt wie ein Ozean, in den man eintauchen möchte. Das dritte Album der britischen Band, gleichzeitig das erste Studioalbum seit sieben Jahren, setzt sich damit auseinander, was es bedeutet, von geliebten Menschen und auch von sich selbst getrennt zu sein - ein komplexes Thema. Daughter, das Trio bestehend aus Elena Tonra, Igor Haefeli und Remi Aguilella - wurde 2010 gegründet. Nach der Veröffentlichung von zwei Studioalben, "If You Leave" (2013) und "Not to Disappear" (2016), und dem Videospiel-Soundtrack Music "From Before the Storm" (2017), beschlossen sie, eine Auszeit voneinander zu nehmen. Kurz zuvor jammten sie allerdings noch gemeinsam in Los Angeles, zwischen einer Support-Tour für The National und ihren ersten Headline-Shows in Südamerika. Hier begann die Arbeit am neuen Album. Danach herrschte erst einmal Stille - als Band und untereinander. In den nächsten Jahren, in denen die Mitglieder an ihren eigenen Projekten arbeiteten, darunter auch Tonras Soloplatte als Ex:Re, trafen sich Daughter gelegentlich zum gemeinsamen Schreiben in Studios in London, Portland und San Diego, wo Haefeli 2019 für sechs Monate lebte. Die zentrale romantische Figur der Platte ist jemand, den Tonra dort kennengelernt hat, als sie aus London zu Besuch kam. Sie teilten eine bedeutende Verbindung, aber sie wusste, dass der Atlantik zwischen ihnen liegt. Daughter begann 2021 konkret mit den Aufnahmen für die zwölf Songs des Albums. Haefeli, der in Bristol lebt, traf sich mit Tonra in den Middle Farm Studios in Devon. Aguilella, der in Portland, Oregon, lebt, nahm seine Schlagzeugparts im Bocce Studio in Vancouver, Washington, auf. Haefeli produzierte eine Reihe der Songs, während Tonra "Junkmail" produzierte. Den Rest haben sie gemeinsam produziert. Die Sehnsucht, physische Entfernungen zu überwinden, ein Gefühl, das sich während der Pandemie noch verstärkt hat, ist in viele dieser Stücke eingeflossen. Auf "Wish I Could Cross the Sea" hören wir Sprachnotizen von Tonras junger Nichte und ihrem Neffen, die in Italien leben. "(Missed Calls)" enthält eine weitere Sprachnotiz, in der ein Freund einen Traum beschreibt. Gefüttert mit einigen modularen Effekten, klingt er geisterhaft eindringlich. Diese Nachrichten, Versuche einer Verbindung von geliebten Menschen, die man nicht sehen kann, "können einen aus dem Brunnen ziehen", sagt Tonra - aber nur, wenn man den Hörer abnimmt. Wenn man andere hereinlässt, kann Schönheit entstehen. Tiefes Gefühl kommt von den Bögen des 12 Ensemble, dem in London ansässigen Streichorchester, das bei vielen Stücken des Albums zu hören ist. Die von Haefeli und Tonra arrangierten und von Josephine Stephenson orchestrierten Stücke wurden, passenderweise, im The Pool aufgenommen, einem Raum in Bermondsey im Süden Londons, der eine ehemalige Badeanstalt war. Ein Blechbläserquartett verleiht auch "Neptune" und "To Rage" eine wohlig klangliche Wärme. Während Daughters frühere Arbeiten ihre Kraft in ihrer entwaffneten und emotionalen Ehrlichkeit fanden, handelt "Stereo Mind Game" von gegensätzlichen Gefühlen. "Es geht darum, nicht in absoluten Kategorien zu arbeiten", sagt Haefeli. Nach mehr als einem Jahrzehnt, in dem sie die dunkelsten Emotionen darstellten, haben Daughter ihr bisher optimistischstes und ein fast schon strahlendes Album aufgenommen.

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.

Extra Muros is an annual itinerant artistic residency initiated in 2017. The third edition was co-organised during the winter 2021-2022 by the FLEE art collective in collaboration with the Music Department of the Museum of Ethnography, Geneva (MEG). Five artists participated in this residency including: Prins Emanuel, Nabihah Iqbal, Jaakko Eino Kalevi, Cosmic Neman, and Maria Spivak.The residency was held at the MEG in two phases. The first part of the residency and encounter represented an opportunity for the artists to explore the museum’s archives, collections, and exhibition spaces. The second phase was dedicated to the composition and production of original musical content in an ephemeral studio set up in the auditorium of the Genevan institution.

In this context, the pieces presented in this album were all conceived during this residency. Having never worked together, the five artists and musicians, each with their own distinct musical path, discovered a variety of sound resources at the Museum. These included eleven traditional instruments from the African continent, Asia and Oceania from the MEG collections, as well as synthetisers, audio effects units, amplifiers and several other vintage emblematic analog electronic devices from the collection of the Swiss Museum and Center for Electronic Music Instruments (SMEM) in Fribourg. In addition, recordings of traditional music from the five continents belonging to the museum’s International Archive of Folk Music (IAFM) were also made available to the artists.

In pairs, the residency’s participants were able to combine their respective creative worlds with the museum’s historical instruments as well as sound archives. This compilation is the result of this rich dialogue.

Originally from Manchester now based in Lewes, Kalli co-runs the GODDEZZ parties and record label.

Sonically, Kalli can't hold back when interconnecting the dots of hoover synths, electro, gritty rave and off-kilter weirdness.

Soft Play is a primal techno beast with punk undertones and monstrous hoover rave drop.

Gems Per Capita shows Kalli in full club mode, unleashing a bass heavy electro tinged track with a killer Acid break; a peak time weapon.

The memory of trying to naively connect to an identity, along with searching for daily eccentric enjoyment in a rural, rainy post-industrial town’ Kalli.

A reissue of Nikolaus Utermöhlen’s »Karlsbad« album, originally released in 1989. Utermöhlen was a founding member of Die Tödliche Doris and this is his sole solo release. A collection of 23 witty oddball compositions for clarinet, accordion, percussion, recorder, violin, guitar, organ. It definitely has a Doris dose but even more so it shines for its totally singular mélange of tribal dada chamber folk, dilettante dissonant poetry, hard to compare with anything else. A slice of flamboyant wellness.

The recordings of this album were made for the "Georgette Meunier" film by Tania Stöcklin and Cyrille Rey-Coquais. Issued from the original master tapes and includes the 8 page booklet with engravings from the Karlsbad spa era.

Free The Robots intentionally marries various electronica genres into a joyous, machine-like syrup that swims between the currents of deep introspection and the depths of the dance floor. 'Kaduwa' is his most recent manifestation, born out of his travels around the world. Especially inspired by his time between Los Angeles, Barcelona, and the island Siargao in the Philippines, Free The Robots translates his experiences into electronic, jazz-centric and sample based beats with sublime tinges of psych, rock, house, and hip-hop. For the most part, these compositions are blunted, funky, and psychedelic. There are tracks for club nights, tunes for early morning comedowns, and songs that are suitable for both. Once more adding new ripples to his sound, Free The Robots continues to explore new frontiers while keeping the torch burning for the L.A. beat freaks

blueblue is the latest full-length from multi-instrumentalist and all-around vibe wizard, Sam Gendel. The record, out via Leaving Records, is a concise, tightly wound song suite whose 14 tracks each correspond to a pattern within sashiko, a traditional style of Japanese embroidery. This conceit remains playfully ambiguous — to what extent, if at all, is Kagome (woven bamboo) meant to evoke the pattern of the same name, for example? But there is an intuitive sense, throughout blueblue, that Gendel has, in this instance, narrowed his focus. To say that blueblue feels richly textural might be a little on-the-nose, thematically, but alas…it does. There is an intimacy, a humility, and a strength at play here that typifies the work of a master craftsman. Only an artist could make it sound so effortless.

A Los Angeleno by way of Central CA, Gendel is by now an institution. Across a dizzying slate of solo releases and collaborations, he has amassed a reputation for not only virtuosic musicianship (primarily as a saxophonist, though the songs that would become blueblue were all initially composed on guitar), but also for his mercurial and prolific output — a corpus of work, which, while obviously indebted to jazz and hip hop (and the farther flung, experimental corners of both) is, in a word, unpindownable.

The bulk of blueblue was recorded in isolation in a makeshift studio built in a cabin floating atop a tributary of Oregon’s Columbia River. Having sketched out a set of guitar melodies, Gendel recorded the album in five-or-so weeks, during which time he became well-acquainted with the river’s tidal rise and fall. This organic rhythm, which daily lifted the house to meet the horizon, later setting it down gently upon the riverbed, permeates t

The first thing that grabs you about Altin Gün"s new album is the energy. With Ask, the Amsterdam-based sextet turn away from the electronic, synth-drenched sound of their 2021 albums, Alem and Yol. While those two, created at home during the pandemic, paid homage to the electronic pop of the 80s and early 90s, Ask, marks an exuberant return to the 70s Anatolian folk-rock sound that characterised Altin Gün"s first two albums, On (2018) and Gece (2019). But there"s development here too. Ask is the closest the band have come so far to capturing the infectious energy of their live performances. "It"s definitely connecting more with a live sound - almost like a live album," says bassist Jasper Verhulst. "We, as a band, just going into a rehearsal space together and creating music together instead of demoing at home." "We didn"t record it like we did the last album," agrees vocalist Merve Dasdemir. "We basically produced that one at home because of the pandemic. Now we"ve gone back to recording live on tape." How many more worlds do Altin Gün visit in this joyful expedition? "Rakiya Su Katamam" is glowering space rock as though Gong had taken a stopover on the Bosphorus. "Canim Oy" is a psychedelic freak-beat stomper from a world where Istanbul"s Kadiköy district was the Carnaby Street of the east. "Güzelligin On Para Etmez" is a dreamy acid-folk anthem. And the finale, "Doktor Civanim," is an irresistible slice of sci-fi disco camp with lava-lamp synth squiggles that wouldn"t sound out of place next to Baris Manço"s "Ben Bilirim." Fresh yet timeless. Rooted in antiquity yet yearning for heavenly futures. Ask wants to take you places. All you have to do is strap yourself in