Cerca:kenny d

Denzel Curry's forthcoming King Of The Mischievous South Volume 2 finds him presenting a sequel to the project, and bringing back the sound, that helped launch his career. While the first installment of King Of The Mischievous South was performed from the perspective of his Raven Miyagi persona, a name bestowed upon him by Raider Klan founder SpaceGhostPurrp, Volume 2 finds Curry operating under his Big Ultra persona -- an elevated version of Raven Miyagi that is bragadocious and revels in the success that Curry has seen over the last decade of his career. Creating King Of The Mischievous South Volume 2 has been a goal of Curry's for some time, though his earliest attempts to do so ultimately morphed into other projects, namely his 2016 album Imperial and 2020's 13LOOD 1N + 13LOOD OUT. It wasn't until he stopped overly attempting to create Volume 2 that its songs started to emerge naturally. 

Given the project's sound, which pays homage to the great musical heritages of the South -- from Memphis to Houston and Curry's own South Florida -- its features include the region's greats, both old and new, as well as others whose style is indebted to the South's musical legacy. Features include fellow former Raider Klan member Key Nyata, Memphis stalwarts Juicy J and Project Pat, Texas' Maxo Kream, That Mexican OT and Mike Dimes, North Carolina’s TiaCorine, Atlanta's 2 Chainz and Kenny Mason and South Florida's Ski Mask The Slump God and PlayThatBoiZay, as well as ASAP Ferg and ASAP Rocky, among others. The project more broadly and the intentional inclusion of Rocky and Ferg is Curry's attempt to show what could have been had relationships not soured with SpaceGhostPurrp, fulfilling the promise that existed at the rise of their respective careers in the early 2010s.  

With all of the otherworldly adventures Denzel has taken listeners on over the course of his last few conceptually-driven albums, this project serves as a showcase for the fun, spontaneity and technical mastery that has made him one of rap's most in-demand talents over the course of the last decade. 

Long and intermittent running duo of Discrepant head honcho Gonçalo F Cardoso and Angela Valid's Alex Jones, with sometime collaborator Phil Laney aka Kenny Hosepipe joining in somewhere along the way, Hair & Treasure crossover from Sucata Tapes to Discrepant wax via 'Disc Rot'. Described by the duo, in their cryptic and scatological fashion, as "a fetid spread from the buttery catacombs of Hair & Treasure", one can only speculate on the mindset, if not for the scenario, for these file swap recording sessions. As if decaying throughout this back & forth process, the synthscapes, field recordings, voices from who knows where? and subliminal pulses assembled in these 11 pieces all coalesce into this out-there murk where invocations of "a" real are mangled into unhinged, squinting eyes moments of near- consciousness.

Compared to previous Hair & Treasure ventures like 'Two Fucking Tapes' or 'Forked Piss Blues', 'Disc Rot' forgoes side-long tapestries by focusing on shorter and clearer transmissions from the netherworld. Still, the feeling of pieces of discarded hardware and sound hubris lying around and turned music of the duo remains unscathed, filtered through a newfound precision. After the opening feverish threat of 'Warm Night', the suspended synth pads and working machinery of 'Byzantine Turd Skirt' actually comes as a relief, pulling away (a bit) of the dread to resurface with the Texas Chainsaw Massacre OST ambience of 'Amateur Depravity' and 2004-ish Midwest noise stylings of 'Busy Hubby's Flight to Gstaad' and 'Tit Ale'. 'Roads Gonad Today' and 'Just Jerkers' are not that far removed from a lower fidelity take on Black Dice circa 'Creature Comforts', while -'Professional Babies' goes back a couple of years to their collabs with Wolf Eyes, bust mostly, all of this sounds like nothing but Hair & Treasure themselves. If you know, you know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Summertime Whiteout is a debut Bleach Cult album - the quirky ambient pop record that
fantasizes about 1960s surf culture and romanticizes the neverending dilemmas of teen
life. It is all about raw imperfections and beautiful spontaneity, captured live on a
modular synthesizer, often relying on single takes and instinctive executions of tracks
that leave little to no room for extensive tweaking and post-processing. Recorded in the
living room at night it shies away from sophistication and complexity instead employing
rough, rock and roll inspired ideas. Raw drifting analog sequences, pulsating textures
and polychromatic vocals. No guitars or drum machines, however.

Roi is the new album from Sultan Stevenson, one of the most compelling voices emerging on the UK and European jazz scenes.Known for his ability to seamlessly merge narrative and accessibility, Stevenson’s music captures listeners both within and outsidethe jazz community. Drawing deep inspiration from legends like McCoy Tyner, Herbie Hancock, Kenny Kirkland, and Geri Allen,Stevenson’s compositions are an exploration of faith, identity, and the complexities of the human experience. His signature style,rooted in quartal harmony, vamps, pedal points, and modality, is elevated by his natural storytelling ability.Stevenson’s sound is unmistakably inclusive, with a humble approach that prioritises dramatic interplay within his trio over overlycomplex musical ideas. His music is captivating and approachable, reflecting his relationship with the Lord and his culturalheritage. Stevenson’s method of creating compositions, often starting with a central motif and building around contrasting melodicideas, highlights his deep understanding of contrast and narrative in music, resulting in compositions that resonate with a widerange of listeners.As a performer, Stevenson is quickly becoming a thrilling force in jazz, translating heritage and spirituality into an evolving andrelevant sound. With El Roi, he continues the journey he began with his debut album Faithful One, which saw each track serve aunique purpose within a larger conceptual narrative. Stevenson’s keen attention to musician selection, including his regularbandmates Jacob Gryn and Joel Waters, alongside collaborations with figures like Denys Baptiste, speaks to his commitment toboth personal and professional growth. His music is not only a reflection of his influences but also of his vision for what modernjazz can communicate to the world today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This anthology follows Now-Again's Loving On The Flipside, issued more than a decade ago. And that anthology itself got its start in a different time, a decade even earlier - the era in which Now-Again's Egon and his friends chased down funk 45s and the odd LP for their testosterone riddled, aggressive sound. Often times the funk song on one of their chosen is would be the throw-away b-side, the hasty afterthought the band cobbled together the night before hitting - or while in - the studio because they'd put all of their energies into writing the amazing ballad that would ensure their entry in soul's history books. Every once in a while, that funk song they coveted could have been - in an alternate universe - a ballad. The Third Guitar's "Baby Don't Cry," El Pooks* "I Could Do The Impossible" and Spider Harrison's "Beautiful Day" all fit into this category. That realization notwithstanding, more often than not they shined over the ballads to get to the tough stuff. Then they started flipping those funk records over to find some loving on the flip side. Some marvellous tunes were there to be found. This is the long awaited follow up. Contained within this anthology are some of the greatest soul ballads that go sweet with a beat - or, to follow our tagline, epitomize "sweet funk." Most of these songs have never been compiled. Some have never been issued in any form. Some, like the Ledgends entry here, were sampled to great success (in that case for Freddie Gibbs and Madlib's "Deeper"). Some haven't been sampled, but, like Herb Johnson's entry, are patiently awaiting their day. It should go without saying that we're proud to present this music in good conscience; with the full participation of everyone but the most obscure names contained within. And, for those who we've not yet been able to contact, this is our message: We've found your brethren, we've placed them beside you on an album that we hope you feel is befitting of your collective contributions to soul music and now we're just waiting for you. Though the music you recorded is from the years past, vour time is now.

The complete LP + 2 bonus tracks - limited edition pressing on 180g vinyl

Although Chet Baker and Bill Evans were both highly lyrical and introspective players who could have made a fabulous partnership, they only ever recorded together on a couple or so occasions. By the time the recordings here were made, Chet Baker had been a star for less than a decade and this wholly instrumental album presents him accompanied by other great jazz stars with whom he would also rarely play and record with again.

"Chet Baker's penultimate session for Riverside produced an all-star lineup to support him, including jazz heavyweights Pepper Adams, Bill Evans, and Kenny Burrell. Each of them makes important contributions to the session. A good place to hear Baker's special way with the horn is made even more attractive with the presence and contributions of top jazz artists." - ***** Dave Nathan, AllMusic

Recorded in 1964 during two concerts in the venerable Greenwich Village venue, the Café Au Go Go, two months after Astrud Gilberto's "Girl From Ipanema" became a Top Five pop single. However, the focus of these sets moved away from the Brazilian flavoured fare, bringing Gilberto into the realm of a decidedly more North American style. The band features a young Gary Burton (vibraphone), Kenny Burrell (guitar), Gene Cherico (bass), and Joe Hunt (drums). There are a few personnel substitutions, with Helcio Milito (drums) and Chuck Israels (bass), respectively, filling in. Verve’s Acoustic Sounds Series features transfers from analog tapes and remastered 180-gram vinyl in deluxe gatefold packaging.

Recorded in 1958, this album showcases Chet Baker’s undeniable charm as both a singer and trumpeter, embodying the essence of cool jazz. Accompanied by an elegant trio featuring Kenny Drew on piano, George Morrow on bass, and Philly Joe Jones on drums, Baker revisits standards with disarming grace. His soft, melancholic voice shines on tracks like “Do It the Hard Way” and “Everything Happens to Me,” where each note feels suspended in time. His airy trumpet subtly converses with Drew’s piano, creating moments of pure musical poetry. A must-listen for fans of intimate and refined jazz.

Released in 1957 on Prestige Records, Walkin’ features a collection of songs that were originally released in 1954. With Davis on trumpet and as band leader, the recordings also feature Horace Silver, Lucky Thompson, J.J. Johnson, Percy Heath and Kenny Clarke. This new edition of the album is released as part of the Original Jazz Classics Series on 180-gram vinyl pressed at RTI with all-analogue mastering from the original tapes at Cohearent Audio and a Stoughton Tip-On Jacket.

King Street Sounds continues to deliver deep house classics with the third various artist sampler in the series. This release taps into the essence of original house music and features iconic names such as DJ Pierre, Blaze, Kenny Bobien, Palmer Brown, Dannell Dixon, and Big Moses.

The EP begins with Dannell Dixon's track 'Dance Dance (DJ Pierre’s Wild Pitch Mix).' This engaging piece features a steady groove, multiple percussive elements, and captivating vocal hooks that keep listeners immersed in the rhythm.

Next is Big Moses' 'Brighter Days (Extended Mix),' which showcases the unmistakably smooth and sultry vocals of Kenny Bobien. As is often the case with Kenny's lyrics, this song explores themes of love, hope, and the promise of 'brighter days,' delivering uplifting dance music.

On the B-side, DJ Pierre makes a second appearance with 'Dancin’ (Club Mix).' This track radiates sunshine and block-party vibes, effortlessly transporting listeners to a lively street party in New York City.

Finally, the record concludes with 'Shine (Shelter Vocal Extended Mix)' by Blaze. This track brings down the tempo just a notch, making it a perfect addition to sets when the dancefloor needs a moment to catch its breath and regain its energy.

Once again, King Street Sounds delivers a knockout release that is a must-have for collectors and DJs alike

The legendary Kenny Dope with collaboration with BBE Records gets down to work on this Afro Disco classic from Ghanian Disco queen Nana Love. Over 35 years since its initial vinyl release, ‘I’m In Love’ has stood the test of time and is packed to the brim with groove, soul and energy. On these special Kenny Dope mixes, part 1 and 2, we’re treated to a beefed up version which will absolutely slam on any sound system and dancefloor across the globe. The NYC icon has injected warmth, rhythm and weight to this classic: primed and ready for you to enjoy on 7 inch vinyl.

In den frühen 1960er Jahren übte Paris eine magische Anziehungskraft auf amerikanische Jazzmusiker aus.
Zu den Stars, die sich dort vorübergehend niederließen, zählten u.a. der Tenorsaxofonist Dexter Gordon,
der Pianist Bud Powell und der Schlagzeuger Kenny Clarke. Auf diesem Album von 1963, das oft als
Dexters bestes bezeichnet wird, interpretieren die drei zusammen mit dem großen französischen Bassisten
Pierre Michelot traumhafte Bebop-Klassiker und Balladen.

‘4th DIMENSION’ is the last and probably greatest album ever recorded by Italian piano Maestro Mario Rusca. This monumental music produc"on features tracks in Nonet, Quintet and Trio. Along with the faithful rhythm sec"on composed by Riccardo Fioravan" on bass and Maxx Furian on drums, on this slamming cinema"c jazz album Mario Rusca teamed up with two extraordinary wind players: legendary Flavio Boltro (of Michel Petrucciani Quintet fame) on trumpet and Gabriele Comeglio on sax alto.

As far as the choruses are concerned, Nicole4a Tiberini, Mar"na Rossi and Alice Macchi, from Maestro Rusca’s ensemble music courses at the Civica di Jazz School, provide inspired and swinging backing vocals. The cherry on the cake, the element that gives to ‘4th DIMENSION’ a pulsa"ng and swinging’ drive, is the par"cipa"on on the album of Marco Fadda, one of Italy’s leading percussion players.

This heterogeneous ensemble has shaped, during 5 days of intense studio recordings, an absolute masterpiece full of swinging rhythms along with a few magical in"mate moments. In his 65 years career, Italian piano legend Mario Rusca has shared the stage and recording studios with luminaries such as Chet Baker, Cur"s Fuller, Gerry Mulligan, Lou Donaldson, Art Farmer, Lee Konitz, Dusko Gojkovic, Enrico Rava, Tullio De Piscopo, Kenny Clarke, Stan Getz, Toots Thielemans, Gianni Basso, Pepper Adams, Steve Lacy and Tony Sco4 (with whom he formed an indissoluble partnership).

Being accompanied in this album by extraordinary musicians, Rusca chooses to flow in a repertoire that, like in his most recent records for Mono Jazz, bridges between original pieces and revisited standards from the American Jazz Songbook, approached with unprecedented sensi"vity and depth.

The journey of ‘4th DIMENSION’ is an extraordinary cinema"c musical voyage across various styles ranging from Bop, Hard Bop, Cool, Funk and La"n Jazz. ‘4th DIMENSION’ is a perfect follow up to the interna"onally acclaimed Easy Tempo legacy! In these 13 tracks, “il Maestro” embraces and enhances a ‘cinema"c’ component in his music - an a4ribute he has long cul"vated through original soundtracks and library albums recorded for diverse cult Italian labels.

This, as we were saying, is achieved through the addi"on of percussionist Marco Fadda, who introduces a series of rhythmic nuances across several tracks, and of the extraordinary female vocal trio reminiscent of I Cantori Moderni of Alessandro Alessandroni & Edda Dell'Orso, used in the tradi"on of Italian composers of ‘60s and ‘70s film music.

This natural progression reflects Italy's history, where jazz musicians have long been involved in soundtracks and film scoring since the late ‘50s. Italian jazz has integrated this approach into its composi"on and arranging styles, as demonstrated in the first 10 volumes of the Easy Tempo series. A spirit and tradi"on that Rusca's ‘4th DIMENSION’ record con"nues. Listening to some of the tracks on the record evokes the legendary works created for cinema by Piero Umiliani, Piero Piccioni, Lelio Lu4azzi, Armando Trovajoli, Gianni Ferrio and others.

Celebrating over ten years in the game, Seth Troxler and The Martinez Brothers' carefully cultivated Tuskegee Music imprint returns with a deeply rooted collaboration between West Coast-based talents Late Delivery and BL SUEDE. Reinterpreting a club classic from Sheila E. and Prince, blending soul, deep tech house and freestyle influences at 130 bpm, ‘Glam Life’ lives up to the prosperous vibe of its title.

Originally from Washington D.C. and New Orleans respectively, Late Delivery have been refining their shared love of house culture since meeting in 2008. Collaborating with Inglewood, CA raised producer and vocalist BL SUEDE, this ode to a iconic time in Black music culture is imbued with the same sense of musicality, with BL’s fluid vocals in a heavenly posture amid joyous horns and irresistible percussion.”

Kenny Glasgow’s smooth, restrained take presents a champagne room mirror perspective on this particular ‘Glamorous Life’, with the former Art Department man and US rave scene lifer tapping directly into sensual, minimal pleasure. Afriqua meanwhile takes BL SUEDE's versatile vocals in a bright, diverse direction, conjuring fresh elements from an archive of breaks and bubbling basslines, landing between modern Amapiano and vintage EBM.

Originally released through Peacock Records in 1958 after her stint with Lionel Hampton’s band, Out There is a snapshot and early gem in Betty Carter’s broad career. Supported by a quality cast including Benny Golson (tenor saxophone), Wynton Kelly (piano) and Kenny Dorham (trumpet) among others, Carter glides through standards such as “Something Wonderful” as well as her first-penned track “I Can’t Help It” which would go on to become a performance staple. This Verve By Request title is pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Third Man in Detroit.

As the first decade of the 21st century came to a close, a new generation of hip-hop artists began to emerge, leveraging the power of digital mixtapes to capture the attention of listeners around the globe. With deceptively intricate flows bringing smoke-filled visions to life, two of the leading lights in this rap renaissance were Smoke DZA and Curren$y. These talented artists both released breakthrough projects in 2009 before ascending to even greater heights, including Billboard-charting albums, high-profile collaborations, extensive touring, and joint projects alongside Wiz Khalifa, The Alchemist, Pete Rock, Big K.R.I.T., Freddie Gibbs, Benny The Butcher, Styles P, Harry Fraud, and more. In 2019, Smoke DZA and Curren$y finally linked for a full-length release, entitled Prestige Worldwide. The two longtime collaborators bring out the best in each other on the acclaimed collection, with inspired rhymes and trunk-ratting beats reverberating from Harlem to New Orleans. Featuring appearances by Styles P and Dave East, Prestige Worldwide is now receiving a new vinyl release via GoodTalk and Nature Sounds after years out of print.

The 1978 debut album Articulation meant the start of a fine recording career for guitarist Rodney Jones. Jones’ started working in and around New York with jazz giants Dizzy Gillespie and Tommy Flanagan, while at the same time working with his own quartet. On this album Rodney is accompanied by Wallace Roney III (trumpet), Arthur Blythe (alto sax), Bob Mintzer (tenor sax), Bernadine Davis (flute), Kenny Kirkland (piano), Kenwood Denard (percussion drums) and Bemshi Jones (vocals). The track “Hard New York Swing” also features Benjamin Brown (drums) and Bruce Johnson (bass).