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Ki.Mi. returns to the line with a new trio of originals and a high-end remix from the inimitable Mihai Popoviciu.
Mastering by Kashatskikh Studio, Saint-Petersburg (RU)
Design & Illustration by Kirill Kashatskikh.

The entire musical spectrum of the label in one dancefloor-proven anniversary record.

Mastering by Kashatskikh Studio, Saint-Petersburg (RU).
Design & Illustration by Kirill Kashatskikh.

Applying the solid structures of floor-focused Berlin techno to the expressive space of introspective electronica, Answer Code Request returns to Delsin with his first album in eight years. Halo finds Patrick Gr?ser broadening his sound palette more than ever before, matching atmospheric synthesis with dynamic beat constructions true to his impressive legacy while breaking new ground. Across Halo, smoky clouds of pads and chords lend the album an introspective quality in the grand tradition of ambient techno. In front of these haunting melodic forms, Gr?ser is free to explore all manner of rhythmic directions. There are fractured, downtempo micro beats and angular fractals on the likes of 'Fading Shadows' and 'Refraction' that take their cues from breakbeat -- finely detailed drum sequences constantly evolving into new arrangements. A pointed nod to D&B rears its head on the aptly named, hard-edged 'Fracture' and you might hear a firmly submerged hint of ravey acid coursing under 'Sublith'. Elsewhere, the firmer kick-anchored pulse of the classic Answer Code Request sound manifests for more forthright techno excursions such as 'Halo' and 'Bliphar'. In the context of the album, though, these tougher tropes are channeled into mesmerising soundscapes that soften the attack without diminishing the potential for club impact. In this era of his craft, Gr?ser moves instinctively through the sounds and approaches that inspire him, and the end result is an album that feels natural and open, all the while steadily progressing the ongoing evolution of Answer Code Request.

A new EP by Extrawelt is always something special, as they continually manage to reinvent themselves while remaining unmistakably true to their sound. The a-side „Moonster“ of their latest record forms a subtle and almost magical bridge to early musical influences such as Immortal Coil, Chris & Cosey, The Cure, and Throbbing Gristle.
In doing so, they reclaim, or rather reintroduce, a powerful, mystical element into their music, one that is integrated so naturally it feels as if it has always been an essential part of Extrawelt’s sonic DNA. Beyond that, the track unfolds through numerous facets, constantly shifting and evolving. Just when you think it is settling into a familiar direction, small variations emerge, keeping the piece remarkably alive and unpredictable.
You can clearly sense how much fun Extrawelt had working on this track. It is bursting with ideas, energy, and vitality, radiating a playful confidence that makes it endlessly engaging.

The b1 track „Bettermaker“ takes a different route, dedicating itself entirely to a single mood. Through subtle pitch bending and a carefully shaped tonal palette, the track unfolds with a slightly eerie, enchanted atmosphere.
From beginning to end, „Bettermaker“ remains focused and unwavering. There are no breaks or dramatic shifts in direction, instead, the piece commits fully to its initial setting. A monolithic, almost mantra like motif forms the core, creating a distinctive ambience, mystical, shadowy and faintly oriental in character.
This atmosphere is carried and reinforced by percussive, ethno inspired drums, which add an organic, ritualistic pulse. The result is a hypnotic soundscape that draws its strength from consistency and depth rather than contrast, inviting the listener into a secluded, otherworldly space.

The final piece of the EP „Popcorn Forever“ reveals another side of Extrawelt’s thinking. The track unfolds like a curious experiment in motion. Instead of building toward a predictable climax, sounds are gradually tossed into an ever running loop fragments, textures and small rhythmic ideas appearing almost casually, as if the piece were assembling itself in real time.
At first the elements seem loosely connected, sometimes abstract, sometimes slightly mischievous in the way they twist and bend. It almost feels like an impossible construction task. But Extrawelt’s experience quietly guides the process. Bit by bit the scattered parts begin to communicate with each other.
Repetition becomes the hidden engine. With every return of the loop new details slip into the structure, and what once appeared random slowly starts forming relationships inside the listener’s mind. The track never forces a clear explanation, yet the brain begins to tie the loose ends together almost automatically.
Popcorn Forever therefore works beautifully as a kind of transit piece within the EP. It moves between ideas, linking moods rather than closing them off. In typical Extrawelt fashion, the result is playful, slightly surreal and full of subtle discoveries that reveal themselves over time.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

Samurai Music offshoot SAIBAI welcomes legendary producer ASC to expand upon the label's widescreen strain of electronic music plumbing the depths between techno, electronica and broken beat.

ASC is the flagship project for James Clements, a prolific veteran of the scene who started releasing his distinctive twist on drum & bass back in the late 90s. Across a variety of aliases and many different label projects and collaborations, Clements has retained a strong artistic identity defined by steely atmospherics, rhythmic intrigue and precisely sculpted sound design. He brings those qualities to SAIBAI3.

On 'Raijin' the tempo prowls at 90 BPM, all the better to carry the bass snarls and haunted melodies hovering in the middle distance. 'Rasetsu' meanwhile hides its much sprightlier 150 pace behind a half time construction punctuated by a tactile, almost organic set of percussion. 'Kyubi' sinks into a deep, inky well of spatial sound design with just a light smattering of percussion and a weighty kick for guidance. 'Shigure' completes the picture with a mesmeric tapestry of shifting textures and brooding melancholy.

Clements has devoted much time recently to his ambient output, and it shows in the richness of the space he shapes around his needlepoint patterns, while his roots in more propulsive club music show their hand in subtle, understated ways. It's this balance that makes the release the perfect addition to SAIBAI's evolving story.

Limited to 200 copies

Bringing together the elder statesman of the Zulu guitar Madala Kunene and internationally acclaimed Sibusile Xaba, kwaNTU pulls two generations of South African guitar mastery into a single point of focus. Under-represented on recordings outside of South Africa, Madala Kunene (b. 1951), the ‘King of the Zulu Guitar’, is revered as the greatest living master of the Zulu guitar tradition. Sibusile Xaba, whose collaboration with Mushroom Hour Half Hour reaches back to his first recording in 2017 (Open Letter To Adoniah/Unlearning), has garnered international acclaim for his unique voice and virtuoso guitar stylings, which bring together multiple South African guitar lineages in an original, spiritualised fusion. Collaborating with Mushroom Hour and New Soil for kwaNTU, the two players come together to weave a filigree sonic fabric which reaches down to the heartwood of Zulu guitar music but moves resolutely outward, building on the past to create a deeply rooted statement about present conditions and future travels. kwaNTU – which can be roughly translated ‘the place of the life-spirit’ – is also conclave of teacher and student, as Xaba has been taught by Kunene for the last decade. Meditative, rich and sonically sui generis, kwaNTU finds these two musicians linking up within the inimitable space of sound and spirit that they share through Kunene’s teaching.

The great masters of South African music have not all had equal exposure. For many years the generation of musicians who were exiled during apartheid took centre stage, as the regime made it very difficult for those at home to be heard. More recently, a new cohort of important voices, especially in jazz, has broken through to international consciousness. But for the generation of musicians in between – those who shone like beacons in the most difficult final years of apartheid and immediately afterward – international recognition has been slow in coming.

Madala Kunene, ‘the King of the Zulu Guitar’, is among this number. A revered figure for current generations of South African musicians, Kunene began his recording career in 1990, at the bitter end of apartheid, with a now classic self-titled LP for David Marks’ storied Third Ear imprint. Born in 1951 in Cato Manor, near Durban, he had determined to be a musician from early childhood, and by the time he first entered a recording studio he had already had a long career as a popular performer. His virtuoso absorption and transformation of the venerable Zulu maskanda guitar tradition and his richly spiritualised approach to music immediately marked him out as someone special, and in the years that followed, Kunene cemented his position as one of South Africa’s musical elders. He is without doubt the grand master of the Zulu guitar tradition, but his sound and sensibility ranges far beyond it into varied sonic terrain, and he has collaborated with a wide range of musicians both at home and abroad. Now in his mid-seventies, he remains a shining light for those that are making music in contemporary South Africa.

‘He is really an amazing person,’ says the guitarist Sibusile Xaba, who has been mentored by Kunene for over a decade, and now invites a collaboration with him on kwaNTU. ‘As a mentor, he's really powerful in showing us the way. For us to have this opportunity to make music together and have a project together is really a blessing to me.’

Xaba himself grew up in Newcastle, KwaZulu-Natal, where his mother had been in a band and his father sang in a church choir, and from early childhood Xaba played homemade tin guitars. He only later realised that music was his calling. ‘I just loved music. I was fortunate. My parents loved music. And when it was time for me to leave home and go to study outside Newcastle, I knew that music was what I wanted to do. There was no second option. It was just music.’ Moving to Pretoria to study music formally, Xaba committed himself to his craft, developing a unique style that draws on both US jazz masters such as Wes Montgomery and Jim Hall, and the rich and varied heritage of the South African guitar, from inspirational jazz players such as Allen Kwela and Enoch Mthalane, to the music of the Malombo groups and Dr. Philip Tabane (Xaba has previously collaborated with Dr. Tabane’s late son, Thabang), and the Zulu guitar tradition embodied by Kunene.

‘I was really in love with the jazz guitar, I really admired it, and I was digging a lot in that direction,’ says Xaba, recalling his first encounter with Kunene’s music, over a decade ago. ‘And then one day on my timeline, Kunene popped up, and I was like – “What's this sound?” I was so connected to it. It really touched me deep. I started checking out his records, and then I found out he's from the same region as I am, which is Zululand.’ After Kunene played a show at the Afrikan Freedom Station in Johannesburg, Xaba make contact with him, and visited him at home in Durban. They struck up a friendship, and Xaba became the elder’s student, as Kunene began to pass on his knowledge and his inimitable way of playing.

kwaNTU is a tribute to this relationship and the deep learning that has defined it. The album was recorded in Zululand in the town of Utrecht, at a cultural centre called Kwantu Village, which gives its name to the album. ‘It's such a broad word,’ Xaba says, ‘but the elders teach us that Ntu is basically an energy, almost chi, an energy, a force that all living beings have within them. It's a living energy, so kwaNTU is like, almost the place of this energy.’ The two men sequestered themselves for five days of jamming, improvising and planning, and then the session was recorded in one take over a single night, with Gontse Makhene joining on percussion and backing vocals and Fakazile on vocals. Other voices and overdubs were later added in the studio in Johannesburg.

The result is a rich and meditative recording that finds two generations in a deeply engaged dialogue. Teaching and passing on his knowledge, the elder Kunene has brought Xaba into a space of sound and knowledge that they now share; Xaba’s own practice of deep communion with nature and his dedication to his musical craft make him the perfect interlocutor for Kunene. The result is an album that foregrounds the two musicians engaged at the highest levels of responsive listening, sympathetic unity, and collaborative concentration. Bringing an elder statesman of South African music to an international listening audience for the first time in decades by pairing him with one of South Africa’s most important new voices, kwaNTU is a meeting of generations and a powerful demonstration of musical lineage and continuity.

‘Before music, there is sound,’ Xaba observes, speaking of Kunene’s unique approach to music. ‘And sound is like a common compartment…it's not restricted to particular people or particular geographic places, you know what I mean? It's sound. Everybody can hear it. So when he constructs that sound into music, I think everybody resonates with the energy behind his construction of sound into song. Here at home, we really love him for preserving our history through the guitar, through his stories as well the music, the songs that he writes. We really, really admire him.’

The Rituals series rises again, a fresh strike carved deep into black wax. RITUAL12 summons an international assembly of techno insurgents from the OMEN roster, each delivering their own sonic rite. Across two sides, the intent is absolute: raw, unfiltered power pulled from the shadows and unleashed on the dance floor.
RITUAL12 is not a compilation, it’s a convocation. Forged in analogue heat, drenched in distortion, and aimed directly at the heart of the floor, this record demands full surrender. Step in. There is no turning back.
SIDE A
Swarm Intelligence – Inexorable
Berlin’s Swarm Intelligence ignites the record with precision-tooled percussion and fractured basslines. Polyrhythmic tension winds tighter with every measure, industrial grit locking into a cybernetic march toward total hypnosis.
B.A.R.K – Shikijitsu
A bone-rattling invocation of distorted low-end and ceremonial drums. B.A.R.K drives forward like ancient machinery grinding to life, a Japanese primal energy sharpened to a deadly edge.
Axkan + Duellist – Resilence
Mexico meets Scotland for a brutalist assault: hammering kicks, serrated synth textures, and walls of analogue saturation. No safe passage here, only forward momentum into the heart of chaos.
SIDE B
EAS – Honored One
From Los Angeles, EAS delivers a tense, ritualistic construction where a subterranean EBM bassline pulses through metallic drones. Hypnotic, uneasy, and charged with controlled dissonance.
Ha†elove + Ogmah – Hanged Bodies
A dark ceremonial groove, heavy with ritual percussion and spectral synth chants. The layers rise to a fever pitch, blurring the line between transcendence and collapse.
Crystal Geometry + Axkan – Kratom
France’s Crystal Geometry joins Axkan for a militaristic strike of modular chaos and pummeling drums. EBM infused basslines drive beneath razor-sharp synth fire, rallying the midnight faithful to the front lines.

Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.

While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.

"Underground EP" is an immersive dub experience from Domino Vibes. It's the third release from theyoung but promising romanian label, that stays true to its groovy dub-techno sound.

Especially tailored for the clubgoer, the opener "Soirée Privée" is an odissey into
monotonal synth themes played in a echo chamber, a pumping kick accompanied by syncopatedperccussion accents lost in delay reflections.The whole rhythmic construction drives the dance forward to a hypnotic state that finally locks in an endless loop.

"Night Drive" is recorded with a playful wit, using synth pads with rich chord harmonics all packaged with a rolling beat that drives the dancer to a realm of happiness. A must have for the DJs from the romanian underground scene, "Get Real" is the true banger of the release that will fill any Floor. It is an uncompromising crowd pleaser, with a punching kick, thick bass lines and rich synth chords ready to impress any clubgoer and guaranteed to lead you in a memorable epic state at the peak of afters. The ending act "Warmness Inc." is constructed around a solid groove, a relentless beat, a deep bass line, and a warm synth theme that carries you to an euphoric state of mind.

Celebrating 40th anniversary of Yves Deruyter's musical career with this 10 x 12" Vinyl Box Set. Including tracks from F.U.S.E. vs LFO, Tronikhouse, Robert Armani, L.S.G., Edge Of Motion, Plastikman, The Prodigy, Ecstasy Club, and the master himselfYves Deruyter.



Yves Deruyter - 40 Years at the Pinnacle of the Night

Forty years. A rollercoaster of a musical career, meandering through five decades, leaving timeless marks on the collective dancefloor memory. Yves Deruyter is the exception that proves the rule. An icon behind the decks, celebrated far beyond national borders for his legendary sets, impeccable musical choices, and the anthems released under his name. The result of collective effort, where Yves, with his vision and unique touch, consistently left his mark-transforming good tracks into inescapable bombs that still resonate through time.

If you've spent forty years living to the pulse of music, the night is in your DNA. Yves Deruyter, a DJ to the core-the real deal. The man who bent the night to his will, dragging weekend vibes into the workweek like a warrior, a true master behind the turntables who made his people dance. His beats: the oxygen that generations lived on.

Yves sharpened his musical weapons in the early '90s within the iconic afterparty scene of Barocci and The Globe-places that became sanctuaries in Belgium's endless night. Here, die-hard dancefloor warriors, cutting-edge music lovers, and night owls from the four corners of the globe gathered. They willingly followed Yves' masterful mixing and his razor-sharp set construction. Clubs with a more conventional timeframe were the next step, with the iconic Cherrymoon as his home base for years-alongside endless guest DJ spots and global gigs. From there, the underground pulsed through Yves' hands and crates, reaching ever-larger crowds-without ever compromising for commercial or crossover sounds. Yves stayed true to his choices, lifting his audience to euphoric heights like a craftsman, armed with his hits, hidden gems, and freshly unearthed nuggets.

From the pounding energy of Rave City to the flippy, epic flashes of Calling Earth-tracks that not only captured the spirit of the times but conquered dancefloors worldwide. This isn't just music; it's a time capsule-a connection between generations and a reminder of the energy from a golden era.

With musical partners like Roel Butzen, Frederico Santini, M.I.K.E. Push, and more recently, Insider, Yves forged a sound that etched its place into rave and dance history. From The Rebel to The House of House, parts of Yves' musical taste have become immortal pillars of dance music heritage. In the early rave days, he topped Belgium's DJ rankings year after year, elevating every club he played to the highest echelons of popularity. The same held true for the records where his name appeared like a badge of honor.

From The Globe to the globe itself-it seemed almost written in the stars. Yves, thestar DJ, became one of the instigators of the electronic music storm that put Belgium on the global map-a storm that never subsided. Festivals like Love Parade, Mayday, I Love Techno, Nature One, and Tomorrowland saw Yves as a trusted force, effortlessly commanding crowds and turning dancefloors inside out. Forty years later, that storm still ignites partygoers, vibrates through dancefloors, and keeps entire generations moving.

Even today, Yves still holds a steady residency with Yves Deruyter and Friends at Club Moustache, where his concept always sells out. Here, both fresh talent and seasoned DJs deliver a killer blend of modern electronic dance music and timeless classics, creating an atmosphere that hooks the crowd every single time.

Because partying doesn't need an excuse. But forty years? That deserves the spotlight-not as a mere milestone, but as a showcase of timelessness. Music mutates, reinvents itself for new generations, yet retains the same impact as that very first time. Yves proves that forty is just a number, and relevance isn't about trends-it's about vision, energy, and an unmistakable touch. His sets? Indestructible. His sound? A heartbeat echoing through time.

And Yves? He doesn't live in the past. Today, Yves distills those four decades into a compilation capturing the essence of his career. Belgian beats, interpreted and refined into a sound that powered raves around the world. Ten vinyls featuring not just a fiercely curated selection that contextualizes the magic of his early days, but also new versions of three unbeatable anthems-potent hits designed to turn dancefloors upside down in wonder, without losing a shred of their soul. Yves remains a beacon in the night, a searchlight for that one perfect beat-always relevant, always chasing that magical moment.

Yves Deruyter-a name spoken in the same breath as the greats of the scene. A ten-vinyl compilation is more than a celebration; it's a well-earned trophy. As unique, indestructible, and uncompromising as the man himself.

Reclaim Your Cities next frequency-jammer comes in the form of a heavyweight split 4-tracker, courtesy of two true techno pioneering figures: Mike Parker and Steve Bicknell.

The continued influence of these two artists on both our early raving days and now as a team working on providing you the most exciting, boundary-pushing tech wares is second to none. As you'll experience from the four jams constitutive of this unparalleled mindtrip of an EP, 'In The Years Ahead' is the living evidence the steadfastness of Parker and Bicknell's vision remains absolutely untouched. Zeroed in on taking ravers on an entrancing ride across pulsating corridors of whirring machine funk, sizzling acid and shape-shifting waves of sound, both sides of this EP share the best lot of both producers' uniquely innovative approach to rhythm and production.

Parker's opening cut, 'Solar Limb' is a textbook example of his complex, and heavily layered sound-design. An unflinching swing keeping time, brutal kicks punching holes in your head like giant steel hammers, the track may evolve slowly, repeating its post-industrial mantra over and over again, its flame doesn't flicker one iota. Switching onto red-level dance floor menace, 'Badlands' pulls out the heavy artillery: an overkill bombardment of puncturing 909 drums, vortical winds blowing in the back like some solar storm of sorts, and this ebb-and-flow of FX-drenched synth ripples branded on your cortex like odd signs of cult belonging. Bicknell's takeover starts with the rugged and wild 'Chaotic World', whose title is definitely not usurped. Enter a blazing maelstrom of frantic synth assault knocked askew, intense bass tectonic movements and smashing arpeggios on the path of war. The track develops a massive momentum, swelling from primordial raw matter into weirdly arranged modular constructions, like that of Kubrick's monolith emerging with ominous presence. 'In The Years Ahead' serves up a much distinctively elegant, glossy type of textural experience, synths playing pong in a hall of mirrors, interlacing and distorting as the percussive line unfolds its linear train-like groove. It dashes across landscapes of hypermodern glass and concrete with unrelenting horsepower, from techno's early sanctuary right up onto tomorrow's temple of unmapped potentialities.

This much special release, so dear to our heart, comes clad in a beautiful piece of design, and will be pressed to 180g audiophile quality vinyl for an enhanced listening experience.

Headquartered in a broader domain of Mixcult Records, Blackinstock Records focuses on the very first release with "Reel Phase EP" BLIS001, representing the most profound property of Mixcult Records' Black Gold Dub Techno. This great collection includes legendary Dub Techno maestro Federsen, plus the innovative minds of Yagya and Ohm.

Submerge in a sea of minimalism and sonic depth, where every single track is a journey in itself. "Reel Phase EP" is such music, emanating from the very heart of Dub Techno. A lot is vested in these expansive and immersive soundscapes, embracing highly detailed constructions. The spaciousness and depth of this release create an unrivalled listening experience, allowing for a deep dive into the pensive and genre-evolutive nature of this sophisticated kind of music.

Federsen, Yagya, and Ohm blend their different skills in masterly fashion, cooking up something timeless and forward-thinking. Each track is a stamp of class and introspection, hallmarks of the Blackinstock Records label, making this EP a must-have for any Dub Techno enthusiast.

Give a different feel to your collection with this genre-defining release. "Reel Phase EP" BLIS001 is not just music; it's an auditory journey to the very heart of Dub Techno. Make no mistake: this is your chance to get a share of musical evolution – get your copy now and dive into the deeper realm that Blackinstock Records holds in store.

The Tel-Aviv centered Yotam Avni officially joined forces with Stroboscopic Artefacts last year, turning in a sensual an invigorating entry for the Monad series. Thanks to his personalized fusion of esoteric and worldly sound elements, Avni immediately made a case to deliver more work to the label, and now he has done so with 'Perlude to Dybbuk,' the second in a new series of S.A. releases to feature the Oblique Artefacts visual team's distinct, elegant portrayals of scanned foliage. As with Avni's previous Monad contribution, the new Perlude to Dybbuk makes references - both in title and in sonic content - to the ancient Hebrew folklore of his homeland (a 'dybbuk' being a kind of limbonic spirit attaching itself to the body of a living human until it has successfully reached its final destination). However, the atmospheric, rather than overt, use of these references gives this record a level of dignity and quality as well as a premonitory feeling that hovers over the proceedings.The opening 'Avka (New Life)' opens with the twin stimuli of chthonic, rolling percussion and ambience that has become a modern Stroboscopic tradition, but ever so gradually deviates from the realm of the easily anticipated. Some of the surprises to be found here are sharp, organic drum fills and sighing strings that have an uncanny vocal quality to them. By the time a surgically clipped acid synth sample comes into the mix, the track has reached a simmering level of excitement and the listener's imagination will have license to reside in a virtual world seamlessly combining elements both ancient and futuristic.Dybbuk' temporarily situates listeners back in brutal modernity, with the first sounds heard being something like insistently slicing helicopter blades. Avni merely uses this as the foundation, though, for a genuinely unique construction whose shamanic beats, throttled horn and undertow of frenzied electronics combine to give the feeling of being menaced and eventually overtaken by a spirit entity. This piece shows just what Avni is capable when operating in a more aggressive, 'post-industrial' mode, and the result stands up with some of the best exponents of that genre.The finale 'Modern Matters' is the most readily club-friendly selection from the disc. This potent, floor-shaking and perspiration-inducing number superimposes resonant vocals from traditional Middle Eastern folk song onto this alchemical mixture of machine oil and sweat, and provides a romantic flair without resorting to naïve, touristic 'ethno-techno.' Avni's skillful dedication to counterpoint, and determination to make a finished form is more than the sum of its parts, shines through here and throughout the duration of this record.

Back on Planet Sneaker with his infectious, raw-as-sushi take on UK funky, French MPC maverick Kaval presents another four-strong salvo of wavey 4/4 workouts heavy on the drums and loaded with ear-snagging hooks. The past year saw the Toulouse scene stalwart launch his own KVLDUBS 12” series and appear on Parisian label Nowadays.

Kaval certainly sounds in fine fettle as he bowls back our way, kicking off proceedings with the air horn x bass squelch firestarter ‘Lavawheel’. It’s loaded with such hefty squarewave low end it feels like it could fall out the bottom of the speaker at any minute, all the while stamped down by a bouncy UKF thump. ‘Basement Woi’ twists up a knottier rhythm, but the cheeky vocal samples keep flying out of the mix to keep the vibe infectious.

On the B side, ‘Sonic Boom’ has a slightly more techno-spirited demeanour to the production, albeit never at the expense of the hefty subs. That leaves it to ‘Tek Talk’ to mop up with a twitchy construction dancing on the edge of electro in the tweaked-out, early 00s spirit of the word. With bags of personality and equal amounts swagger and fun, on SNKR066 Kaval maintains his position as a free thinker for the possibilities springing from the UK funky formula.

Shrouded in mystery when it first appeared, Tiger & Woods’ debut album quickly took on a life of its own. With little more than whispers surrounding the project, the music spoke loud enough: a set of extended disco constructions carefully tuned, remixed, over-dubbed, sliced and diced by the elusive duo of Larry Tiger and David Woods. What began as a cult phenomenon soon caused a stir across dance floors and record bags worldwide.
Now, for the first time ever, that legendary debut finally arrives on vinyl. Through the Green captures Tiger & Woods at the moment their distinctive language of groove first took shape. Rooted in the spirit of disco edits but already stretching beyond the format, the album blends loop-driven funk, house-leaning propulsion and the unmistakable bounce that would soon become their signature.
It’s the sound of two producers refining a craft that would later blossom on albums like On The Green Again, where their approach expanded into a wider palette of boogie, electronica, Italo and uptempo house. But here is where the story begins.
Before world tours, live sets and the creation of their own T&W Records imprint, there were these tracks: hypnotic, playful and engineered with a dancer’s instinct for tension and release. Each cut unfolds like a perfectly extended club moment, full of warmth, swing and that unmistakable Tiger & Woods sense of fun and function.
Years after its original digital release, Through the Green remains a cornerstone of modern disco-house culture. Pressed to wax at last, it finally receives the physical format it always deserved: grooves built for the turntable, the dance floor and the crate.
The mystery might be gone. The magic, however, remains very much intact.

Bruno Silva, operating here under his restless Serpente alias, returns with Visita do Fogo — a sharp, stripped-back and incendiary counterpoint to the drifting, dream-jazz abstractions of Dias da Aranha. If that record floated like smoke, this one crackles and snaps like dry wood.

Visita do Fogo finds Silva stepping back into the heat of his beat-driven origins, embracing a raw, forward-leaning approach that feels closer to his live detonation than a studio construction. The record is built on stark materials — drum fragments, percussive jolts, scorched-earth loops — all manipulated with his unmistakable “screw” instincts: micro-cuts, sudden pivots, rhythmic false floors and the sense that the track might turn itself inside-out at any moment.
Rather than smoothing edges or leaning into atmospherics, Serpente doubles down on urgency. Each piece moves through the record with a chop-and-go physicality, a kind of ritual propulsion that never settles into comfort. Silva’s rhythmic language remains entirely his own: crooked but precise, feral yet meticulous, rooted in dance structures but constantly mutating away from them.

Visita do Fogo is less a sequel to Dias da Aranha than a flare shot into the same night sky — brighter, hotter, and designed to leave afterimages. It captures an artist burning forward, shedding everything unnecessary, trusting the flame.

4XLP box set, 4 Coloured discs: translucent violet, ice, blue, and orange vinyl

Hardcover slipcase box
Celebrate twenty-five years of Ape Escape and thirty years of PlayStation with Ape Escape 3 Originape Soundtracks in a Box!

Ｓａｒｕ　Ｇｅｔ　Ｙｏｕ　３

As with the Ape Escape Originape Soundtrack, composer Soichi Terada has meticulously re-recorded and reconstructed all tracks from the Ape Escape 3 Original soundtrack. Previously only available on CD, this is the complete soundtrack's first time on vinyl. This box set was produced in partnership with Mr. Terada and Far East Recording, and is an officially licensed Sony Interactive Entertainment product.

This release contains eighty tracks, spanning four individually sleeved records, housed in a hardcover box. It is similar in construction to the Ape Escape Originape Soundtracks in a Box release (2024), and the two will look quite nicely next to one another on your shelf!

We are happy to announce that this box set features a definitive edition of the Ape Escape 3 Originape tracklist. This also includes "Swanlake," a track previously unavailable on the CD release. At its core, the Ape Escape 3 soundtrack features much of Soichi Terada's signature sound: lush electronic, jungle, silky smooth synthesizer, humor, and charm.

Ape Escape 3 was originally released in 2005 (Japan), and its moviemaking pipos were unleashed across the rest of the globe in 2006. The game features two new protagonists (Kei and Yumi) who battle the Freaky Monkey Five, underlings of the nefarious Dr. Tomoki and the evil monkey Specter.

Complimenting the game's journey through the TV-verse, the Ape Escape 3 soundtrack also features twists on themes from Wild West Showdowns, Kung-Fu movies, and space operas. Fans of the Ape Escape Originape Soundtrack, as well as newer work like Asakusa Light, will certainly enjoy all elements of Soichi Terada's music present in Ape Escape 3.

The music on this box set was mastered by Justin Perkins of Mystery Room Mastering, who also mastered the original Ape Escape Originape Soundtracks box set (2024). Using Mr. Terada's premastered source files, the music was completely and specifically mastered for vinyl. The box set also features original Ape Escape 3 character renders and key art. All of the design elements have been put together with careful thought, referencing the original Japanese guidebook for inspiration and visual cohesiveness.

It is with great pleasure that we celebrate Soichi Terada's music and the Ape Escape franchise with this four-disc release!

Original key art and renders from the サルゲッチュ team


Officially licensed © Sony Interactive Entertainment
©2025 Sony Interactive Entertainment Inc. “PlayStation”, ”プレイステーション”, “Ape Escape” and ”サルゲッチュ” are registered trademarks of Sony Interactive Entertainment Inc.

Siavash Amini is a composer from Tehran, Iran. He Has worked with labels like Room40, Hallow Ground, Opal Tapes and Umor Rex for the better half of the past ten years. He has performed at festivals like CTM & MUTEK and many other well known international events. Apart from it Siavash is a co-founder of the “SET experimental art events” and “SETfest” in Tehran, Iran. His work ranges from fragile ambient pieces and brittle IDM (incorporating his distinctive style of atmospheric guitar playing) to noisy drones and bleak modern classical pieces. His compositions have been inspired by films such as Andrei Tarkovsky's The Mirror as well as novels by Dostoyesvky and poems by T.S. Eliot.

Saffronkeira is the Sardinian sound researcher Eugenio Caria being active in the electronic music scene since almost two decades. His most recent work - a cooperation with the Italian jazz trumpet legend Paolo Fresu - earned a lot of praise from the international music press for the pure timelessness of the album.

"Upon hearing a small snippet of sound an image is conjured, not a memory but not unfamiliar. A shell of a memory, thousand events superimposed on each other. While trying to extract points of a narrative to ease the discomfort of this recollection, I try to separate and unfold the image and with it the points of the spectrum which make up the sound, a shell of a narrative. Here is an album based upon an almost entirely imagined/ synthesized happening upon hearing a snippet of sound. It sounded like of a whole story that never happened but yet I felt myself amongst it’s participants, a sound triggering a false memory. Each sound in Eugenio’s collection of sounds and ideas guided me a to a point in the narrative and it’s construction. He had handed me a portals of some kind to a few scenes of the whole narrative. This is the soundtrack for that false memory from all the perspectives I can think of."

When Niko Moon broke out with his triple-platinum hit “GOOD TIME,” the Texas-born, Georgia-raised singer/songwriter lit up the country scene with his larger-than-life energy and message of radical positivity. Since then, he’s earned a passionate following, major TV performances, and praise from outlets like Holler and American Songwriter. With AMERICAN PALM Deluxe, arriving right before his headline AMERICAN PALM Tour, Niko expands his latest LP with
two new tracks, “BREATHE” and “BARE FEET IN THE SAND,” furthering his mission of creating music that feels like a“mental vacation” filled with sun-soaked serenity and coastal escape.

“Breathe is all about finding that place where you can take a deep breath and let your worries drift away,” says Niko. “I find peace by the water, and I wanted the song to be a mantra of positive self talk and a celebration of the coast.”

Niko partly grew up in Georgia, spending summers on Florida beaches, an influence that shapes the concept-driven AMERICAN PALM. Written during his THESE ARE THE NIGHTS tour with producer Danny Majic and songwriter David J, the record blends coastal sounds—ukuleles, nylon-string guitars, ocean waves—with organic beats and a touch of ‘90s hip-hop, nodding to his Atlanta roots. The result is a seaside getaway in album form, equal parts carefree, romantic,and life-affirming.

Tracks like “I LOVE THIS BEACH” and “YOU, ME & A BEACH” capture that spirit. The latter, a love song linking his wife and the beach as his grounding forces, helped cement the record as his first concept album. “SANDBAR” delivers a euphoric summer vibe, while “SANDCASTLES” reflects on life’s impermanence. “KING OF THE ISLAND” is a family
milestone—co-written and sung with his father, Cris Cowan.

Niko’s journey began early, inspired by his dad, a truck driver and drummer who introduced him to John Prine and Emmylou Harris. Niko picked up drums at eight, guitar at fifteen, and started playing in bars while working construction. A chance encounter with Zac Brown led to songwriting cuts like “Homegrown,” before Niko launched his solo career with “GOOD TIME,” a No. 1 hit on both Billboard Country Airplay and Hot Country Songs charts. From the start, he committed to making only positive music: “In a way a song is like a mantra, and I want mine to carry optimism and encouragement.”

Since his debut, Niko has sold out the Ryman, played major festivals like Stagecoach, and performed on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon and Jimmy Kimmel Live!. Beyond music, he and his wife Anna founded the Happy Cowboy Foundation to support mental health and addiction recovery, and launched Happy Himalayan water and the American Palm clothing line, both of which benefit the foundation.

In 2023, k.d.b lived in a crumbling farmhouse on the edge of the River Maas. Each morning, he’d wake at 6:00 and walk along the river’s bank with his dogfriend Miemel, pausing at sunrise for a cup of coffee.

It’s 6:34, and a thick rug of mist rolls out across the river. It’s so dense that k.d.b can’t see the water beneath it. Then comes the sun: a single ray cutting through the mist like a tube of light, landing on Miemel’s face. In her mouth is a CD she’s picked up, and on the CD is the title Instrumental Romance.

'What is Instrumental Romance?' thinks k.d.b. 'Romantic instrumentals? Or a romance used instrumentally? As in, a romance used to get something—like love?'

Miemel drops the CD and turns her attention to a stray purple grape on the path. Grapes are poisonous to dogs, and as she bends toward it, k.d.b. shouts, “NO!” At that precise moment, a large fish rises from the mist. It launches into the air, mouth wide open, and hangs there above the clouds. His shout, having traveled across the river, bounces back towards k.d.b with a “NO,” and in perfect synchrony, it appears the fish is also shouting at Miemel. The timing is so perfect, they can’t be sure it isn’t.

The fish falls back down, entering its watery world with an eerie, splashless silence, leaving k.d.b and Miemel standing open-mouthed on the bank. Before they can register the perfection of this duet, another fish (or maybe the same one again) rises from the mist in the exact same spot and launches into the air. Without thinking, k.d.b shouts again. The word “ROMANCE” comes out. This time, however, he is slightly too late, and the word is too long, so “ROMANCE” lingers on after the fish has already fallen back down.

'What even is romance?' thinks k.d.b. 'The construction of mystery or excitement with dead red flowers and timing?'

A foghorn sounds behind him, and k.d.b turns 180 degrees to see a boat moving freight, right to left, along the River Maas. 'That’s strange', he thinks. 'If the river is there, then what’s that behind me, below the mist?'

Staring at the boat and its shipping containers as they float out of sight, k.d.b imagines a man. The man is standing at the bottom of a small valley, holding a fish. 'Who is this man, and what does he want?'

- Jacob Dwyer

Manchester based trio, Sonnenspot have unashamedly taken their favourite records from the Kosmische Musik landscape and fused these to inform their own spontaneous sonic constructions. Motorik drums, pulsating flutes, wah guitar and almost excessive use of space echo make this a dense and dreamy listen, with a hint of the rainy pensiveness of their home town.

Notable inspiration from Neu!, Manuel Gottsching, Sonic Youth and Yo La Tengo is all clearly audible in the various recordings on this album and minimal effort was made to shy away from this. The longest track 'Motorway' is an epic homage to the space rock art form and 'Madrugada' takes both John Martyn's 'Small Hours' and Gottsching's 'Inventions' as a starting point. Others include the tobacco lovers art-rock-ear-worm ('Liquorice Paper'), a dub laden celestial synth jam ('Slow Blinker') and the album opens with the first thing the band ever recorded, as a meaningless improvisation to tune their synths up to ('Figurescene'). Turned out it had a killer bass line and drum part.

Initial sessions were mostly just an excuse for the three long standing friends to get together musically for the first time, and after knowing each other for many full moons, it was long overdue.

They all bring some peripheral musical heritage to the table. Ian Smith was the guitarist in Alfie and the The Beep Seals and played on Badly Drawn Boy's 'The Hour of Bewilderbeast'. Pete Philipson played in Jane Weaver's band for ten years and has made his own ambient guitar albums. Dan Hope plays in the jazz folk band Mother Sky and promotes events around the city under the Rainy Heart banner.
They were joined by another long term musical friend Sam Kynaston who added heavenly flute to much of the album.

Jessica93, prodigal bastard of our glorious french squat scene, relocated on Born Bad : this is no picnic. Geoffroy Laporte, alone against all odds, alternates bass and guitar to build harsh loops with a drum machine spitting pre-Gulf War patterns. That’s where it gets tricky : every musical posse claims him. Grunge, sure, but Jessica doesn’t indulge in necrophilia. His circuit is punk, he doesn’t dress the part though. Cold wave, the atmosphere fits somehow, but the gear does not. The self-confident rock horde saw him playing with hair in his eyes… but he never joined the Party. Metal had something to say but sadly, nobody listened. Maybe it's time to give it a rest and let Jessica93 cook his great misery broth on her own, called « 666 tours de périph’ » (666 laps on the beltway). Witnessing Jessica93 live makes you dread that he'll get up the next morning, drive 200 miles and one nap later kick it again, when it takes us a good week to recover from the bad half of that same evening. Like so many other unknown soldiers during our very own world war of music, he patrols small venues relentlessly.



At the heart of this cultural pentacle painted by french weirdos Bryan's Magic Tears, and Carine Krinator, Jessica93 has built a sound validated by years of chosen vagrancy, birthing bands with joyously stupid monikers, in the humid jungle of small labels. Jessica93's debut album had a track celebrating Omar Little, HBO’s gay bandit from Baltimore. This story begins on the beltway, where Florence Rey, accidental copkiller turned to political icon of the 90’s. Geoffroy offers his brilliant analysis : " C’est la police qui nous tire d’ssus / C’est mon trou d’balle qui leur chie d’ssus « (Police shoots us down / my dripping asshole gets the job done).



A previous album was haunted by bedbugs, this one is essentially about love, a delicious scourge just as hard to eradicate. Two black diamonds peek out of the LP : ’’La colline du crack’’, heartbreak song about the ultimate temptation of violent delights, located on crackhead central in Paris. The brilliant chorus, ‘Take my hand and come with me to Crack Hill’ will put an end to the rumours, almost everything was really false. And Bébé Requin, alternative obituary that’ll make you shiver, where our nice couple states ‘’on kiffe la drogue dure et les ptits chiens’ (‘we love hard drugs and little dogs’). And that is the reason we face the wall of sound jostled by unnecessary shoulder thrusts: those nice fat chunks of charcoal poetry, hidden under light sarcasm.



The rest of the record demonstrates the know-how acquired in loop-by-loop construction of ruins that are pleasant to squat in together. There’s your classic doom delicatessen, with bits of heavy metal inside, crafted with the manic care typical of hard wankers. Arthur Satàn, who produced and mixed the album at home in Bordeaux, helped him get his head out of the reverb safe house. And Jessica93 took the opportunity to switch to the dark side of the language : french at last. Worth the wait ! Sing along : « nique sa mère / nique sa grosse mère » (translate that yourself).

If there is one person, who has been causing a stir on the international club circuit recently, it is Barcelona's John Talabot. Already his debut “My Old School“ (which is meant literally by the way) on Permanent Vacation in 2009 and shortly after that the single “ Sunshine”, which he put out on his own Hivern Disc imprint, made him one of the most promising musicians of the Spanish electronic scene. And those two releases also already set the mark for John Talabot’s unparalleled music: raw, loopy, heavy on the kick drum, sample based, moderate on the tempo, distorted on the drums and light years away from the clean and ever revolving house sound of today. This unique style which also blends influences from afro beat, Detroit techno, Chicago house and cosmic disco, but also northern soul or the energy of Flamenco, immediately turned some heads around. James Murphy, Âme and Aeroplane started including Talabot music in their sets like it was the most natural thing. However - and this is quite rare - he not only gained legions of fans in the house and disco community, but also amongst the leftfield pop and indie rock followers. NME and Resident Advisor both had “Breakthrough“ features on John Talabot and he can be proud of a “Best New Music“ dubbing on
Pitchfork. (Being rather elusive on showing his face in magazines or the web it also came to some funny rumors that John Talabot was the alter ego of a well-known techno producer from Detroit).
At the same time he drew the attention of like-minded artists like James Holden and Luke Abott from Border Community, Blondes or Delorean, which lead to a bunch of fertile collaborations: Luke Abbott and Blondes remixed Talabot’s “Sunshine“ single , John Talabot remixed a track by Delorean and vice versa Delorean’s Ekhi contributed vocals to the track “Journeys “ on John’s album). Another example is the Young Turks Label (home of Jamie XX, Holy Fuck, El Guincho or SBTRKT ) on which he released the “Families“ EP in 2010. It was praised beyond limits. Pitchfork for
instance hailed: “… where pop and house influences sweetly buffer up against one another to provide an unyielding sense of elation“ and even brought Talabot a comparison with artists like Four Tet or Caribou.
While staying true to his sound, John Talabot has nevertheless shown a constant evolution as a producer since his first release. He has traced a solid musical path that has turned him into one of the big references of European House and has made him also a highly in demand Remixer (for the likes of The XX, Francesco Tristano’s “Aufgang” project, Shit Robot on DFA, Thaiti 80, Joakim or Teengirl Fantasy to name just a few ).
A progression that now crystallizes in “ƒin”, his first full-length album for Permanent Vacation. A record, in which the Barcelona mastermind sets aside the danceable immediacy to expand his stylistic palette more than ever. For that purpose, Talabot melts all the elements that have constructed his distinctive sound until now and makes them emerge from a new perspective, in which the construction of complex song structures, intricate rhythms and superpositions of ever-evolving melodies and atmospheres pick up the baton of the “a kick-drum and a sampler” philosophy of his initial productions. The result brings us 11 tracks (we should call them songs really!) dominated by dark ambiances, gaseous textures and bittersweet moods that, above all, reveal a kind of vivacity that’s really hard to find in contemporary electronics. “Fin” is far from being a track collection. From the majestic opener “Depak Ine“ to it’s solemn ending with
“So Will Be Now“ , one of the two tracks that features Talabot’s soul and label mate Pional, each song traces an overall dialogue with the rest, culminating a highly emotional journey through Talabot’s always compelling and unique musical vision.

After delighting fans of all ages with the surprise children's hit "Long Legged Larry," underground hip-hop icon Aesop Rock returns with "Roadwork Rappin'," a joyful ode to construction vehicles and the kids who love them. Inspired by the fascination many children have with bulldozers, front loaders, and cranes, the track delivers clever rhymes and vivid descriptions in classic Aesop fashion_this time with a whimsical twist. Over a minimal beat with a bouncing bass line that evokes the lumbering roll of oversized construction tires, Aesop celebrates the sights and sounds of work zones, bringing dump trucks and backhoes to life with vivid wordplay. The song is part educational, part imaginative world-building, capturing the wonder of watching giant machines reshape our surroundings. What makes it shine is Aesop's funny and wildly specific wit, packaged in a format that's approachable for younger listeners but still rewarding for longtime fans. With "Roadwork Rappin'," Aesop continues to expand his creative universe in unexpected ways, proving once again that his pen knows no bounds. Whether it's blaring from a car seat playlist or sparking nostalgia in adults who once chased garbage trucks down the block, this track is a joyful celebration of curiosity, machinery, and the poetry hiding in plain sight.

On the cover of 8 Tips for Full Catastrophe Living, the new album by Asher White, The Statue of Liberty is in pieces but not destroyed - in progress, being built, not yet complete. Her torch is on the ground, her head somewhere out of frame. Before she was a symbol, she was metal, and living, sweating people riveted her together. The spirit of de/construction characterizes 8 Tips, White's 16th LP overall and first since signing to Joyful Noise. Like White's previous albums, 8 Tips for Full Catastrophe Living darts boldly among varied musical styles. Doom metal splits open into bossa nova; psychedelic rock and power pop flip into industrial techno. Each song emerges from its composite parts in the studio: White doesn't draft or demo before recording, but builds out her pieces sculpturally, sound by sound. "It's forever collage, forever assemblage," she says of her music. "To me, it has more to do with J Dilla, L.A. beat, and musique concrète than pop songwriting." The record's quick turns and vivid contrasts reflect White's cultural voraciousness. A writer, painter, and sculptor as well as a musician, she gathers materials constantly, always digging for new ideas in every possible form. The films of Claire Denis, the novels of Clarice Lispector, and the memoirs of Eve Babitz all funnel into White's reflection of 21st century disaster capitalism. 8 Tips is also White's first album to have been mixed outside her Providence studio; after recording it herself, she brought tracks to Seth Manchester (Lightning Bolt, Battles, The Body) who gave the album its brawny, unruly charge. "I was interested in making something that serves dually as a self-help book and a chronicle of self-destruction," says White. Overlaying autobiography onto character vignettes, 8 Tips for Full Catastrophe Living wrenches open the idea of apocalypse - an abrupt disaster rained down on uncomplicated innocents - and peers inside at its bursting, devastated particulars. Apocalypse is slow and uneven. Nations falter as do individual people, clinging fast to their old, dilapidated self-preservation strategies. What saved you in the past might destroy you in the future. Flip it around, shake yourself loose, ruin the person you've known yourself to be, and you might get the chance to become something else. "There have been so many end times, many other apocalypses." White says. "People were writing self-help tips, and people were partying." We have survived catastrophe before. Out of the ruins, people made work - art, books, culture. "I was interested in making something that sounds like a self-help book, but it's actually about self-destruction," says White. "In full catastrophe living, you just have to do a bunch of whippets. This album is mostly about doing whippets. I'm not even kidding."

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

The discovery of Doris Dennison's score represents a genuine musicological breakthrough—what once would have been "a tree falling in the woods" thirty years ago now holds the potential to render "a thunderous clap in our minds." While researching Anna Halprin's lesser-known collaborators, scholar Tom Welsh uncovered the archives of AA Leath, one of Halprin's principal dancers. Buried within these materials was Dennison's handwritten score for Earth Interval, dated May 1956. Born in Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1908, and raised near Seattle, Dennison (1908-2009) encountered John Cage while teaching Dalcroze eurythmics at the Cornish College of the Arts. She joined Cage's earliest percussion quartet—alongside Margaret Jansen, the composer and his wife Xenia—in the group widely regarded as having performed the first complete concert of percussion music in the United States. This historic December 1938 concert was followed by tours and the landmark May 1941 performance at the California Club, comprising Cage and Lou Harrison's Double Music, the premiere of Cage's Third Construction, and Harrison's 13th Simfony.

As Bradford Bailey observes in his extensive liner notes, Earth Interval demonstrates "an extraordinary balance of elements that imbues the piece with a sense of clarity, directness, and constraint that is both distinct and ahead of its time." The work's most remarkable innovation lies in its approach to extended techniques, particularly Dennison's notation for the central movement: "In 2nd movement, 1st player lowers + raises a gong into a tub of water while beating." This technique, absorbed from Cage's experimental vocabulary, generates what Bailey describes as "fields of acoustic abstraction that bend and warp time through sustained resonances, beat, and space." The temporal sophistication of these manipulations anticipated Karlheinz Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) and Annea Lockwood's water-based sound investigations by over a decade. After joining Mills College as dance accompanist, Dennison maintained crucial connections to the Bay Area's experimental scene, collaborating with figures like Merce Cunningham and programming Cage's music throughout the 1950s.

Comprising three movements—Land Form, Air Tide, and Earth Play—Earth Interval is scored for recorder, drums, gongs, maracas, muted gongs, and bowl gongs. In total, the piece is just under eight minutes: "a fleeting glimmer of moment in time, a life spent at the cutting edge, and a singular creative vision that packs a powerful punch." When viewed in historical context, placed in contrast to roughly contemporaneous avant-garde percussion works by Cage, Harrison, Louis Thomas Hardin (Moondog), and Harry Partch, or important precursors like Edgard Varèse's Ionisation (1931) and Henry Cowell's Ostinato Pianissimo (1934), it's clear that Dennison was following her own path. Earth Interval is not derivative. It is a precursor to what was yet to come, alluding to developments of avant-garde and experimental music that wouldn't begin to appear on the cultural landscape until the 1970s and '80s, with the emergence of Post-Minimalism and more idiosyncratic artists and ensembles like Midori Takada, Ros Bandt, Peter Giger, Frank Perry, Christopher Tree, Michael Ranta, Gamelan Son of Lion, and Niagara.

This recording by Chicago's Third Coast Percussion, captured in March 2022, represents the first complete documentation of this pioneering work. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity while maintaining its historical specificity. Where Cage, Harrison, and Partch employed "self-consciously off-kilter polyrhythms," Dennison's rhythmic sensibility anticipates minimalist developments by nearly a decade, yet integrates "forceful rests, as well as sharp shifts in sonic character, tempo, and meter, that break the momentum and breathe a sense of life into the piece's structure." This positions her work closer to Post-Minimalism decades before its emergence. The architectural approach demonstrates Dennison's understanding that "the composer almost entirely disappears" in favor of phenomenological listening experience, creating what might be called an egoless music that places its realities and meaning entirely in the ear of the beholder. The present recording, realized by Chicago's distinguished Third Coast Percussion ensemble, represents a significant achievement in experimental music scholarship and performance practice. As specialists in the Cage tradition and contemporary percussion repertoire, Third Coast Percussion approached Earth Interval with the historical sensitivity and technical precision required to illuminate Dennison's subtle compositional innovations. The March 2022 recording sessions, engineered by Colin Campbell, capture both the work's intimate chamber music qualities and its bold exploration of extended techniques. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity—its ability to speak directly to current musical concerns while maintaining its historical specificity.

This recording serves multiple scholarly functions: it provides the first complete documentation of Dennison's compositional voice, offers insight into the broader network of experimental music practitioners surrounding Cage and Harrison, and demonstrates the sophisticated level of compositional thinking that was occurring within the Bay Area's dance-music collaborations of the 1950s. The work's emphasis on phenomenological listening—what might be called an "egoless" approach to musical experience—places it within a lineage of American experimental music that prioritizes perceptual process over compositional personality. The work's original obscurity—limited to AA Leath's performances at venues like the 1957 Pacific Coast Arts Festival at Reed College—paradoxically allowed it to remain "entirely on its own terms," free from the constraints of historical categorization. Drawing on Jacques Derrida's Archive Fever, the argument emerges that "the archive can acknowledge, celebrate, and resurrect" overlooked voices, transforming our understanding of experimental music history. The present Blume edition, featuring Third Coast Percussion's authoritative interpretation, includes a lavishly illustrated 16-page booklet designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, containing complete scholarly apparatus, historical photographs, and detailed production notes. This recording enables "cross-temporal intersectionality," allowing Dennison to "belong to a newly formed and more dynamic understanding of the present and past," demonstrating how forgotten voices can reshape entire historical narratives when given proper scholarly attention and performance advocacy.

Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.

While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.

Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.

While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

2025 Repress

DJ Quik is a giant of West Coast hip-hop. With 1995’s Safe + Sound, he scaled new levels of musical magnificence with his signature new age P-Funk/laconic G-Funk. A quintessential, sun-scorched LA album, this is pretty much essential. Typical for mid-90s albums the original vinyl copies are now rare so here’s the Be With re-issue, complete with “Tanqueray”, the hidden track from the original CD release.

A preternaturally gifted producer/rapper, DJ Quik has produced scores of LA gangsta rap classics. He’s released platinum and gold records of his own, as well as helped craft them for the likes of Tupac, Snoop Dogg, and Dr Dre. Quik has always been quirkier and more interesting than his gangsta rap peers, both musically and lyrically. An old-school funk producer at heart, he’s also incredibly nice on the mic. His raps often deal in boasts, jokes and good times but also cover his beefs, his trials and his trauma. Partying and pain, all mixed up. DJing and producing hype beat tapes from age 14, Quik’s tracks blended the languid funk and rubbery synths of Zapp and George Clinton with a gangsta aesthetic, creating a more danceable foil to Compton’s more typical nihilistic hedonism. Ultimately, his records sound custom engineered to drift out over sun-soaked barbecues.

By the time of his third album DJ Quik was a household name on the West Coast - California’s premier rapper/producer not named Andre Young. Released on Profile in 1995, Safe + Sound was certified gold. Less reliant on samples and more focused on live instruments, it elevated him from producer to fully-fledged composer. This sound — the quick, winding basslines, tinny high hats, smooth instrumental solos, soulful pipes, and Roger Troutman’s talkbox — defined him. This is an album of full-blown masterpieces. Rich soundscapes and masterfully arranged orchestrations with dense layers of sounds, intricate rhythms, and well-balanced songwriting.

The first track proper, “Get At Me” samples Cameo whilst Quik takes aim at the Judases in his life, the horn-laced chorus providing a triumphant feel. On the horizontal “Diggin’ U Out”, the soulful electric piano of Warryn Campbell lays a relaxed groove for Quik to talk over about one of his favourite topics: sex. Title track “Safe + Sound” chronicles Quik’s formative years over a slick instrumental. The moody bass locks a laidback infectious groove, the hook is catchy and Quik’s delivery is in fine form. On the uber-chilled “Somethin’ 4 Tha Mood”, Quik cooks up a breezy, feel good track of sparkly keyboards, syncopated claps, shuffling hi-hats, woozy synths and a floating two-minute flute solo courtesy of Robert “Fonksta” Bacon. Analysing the highs and lows of an average day in the hood, it echoes Cube’s “It Was a Good Day”.

“It’z Your Fantasy” is a silky smooth soundtrack to Quik’s detailed retelling of a sexcapade with a young lady and whilst “Tha Ho In You” is musically perfect for that midsummer family BBQ, its lyrical content is unsurprisingly decidedly less family-friendly. A real highlight, the infamous “Dollaz + Sense” is one of the most ruthless diss tracks of all time. The brutal lyrics ride a laidback West Coast beat, flipping a sample from Young & Company’s “I Like (What You’re Doing To Me)” as Quik fires lyrical shots at his arch Compton nemesis, MC Eiht. On the loping, hazy “Let You Havit”, Quik is again in gangsta mode, with more bars of barbs aimed at Eiht, rhyming over sun-kissed synthy-rollerskate funk.

Some of the finest tracks on Safe + Sound are those designed to de-stress. The evocative “Summer Breeze” is a classic warm-weather jam, anchored by a twangy funk guitar, breezy string arrangement, and a soulful hook delivered by Dionne Knighton. Quik’s nostalgic lyrics are not far from DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince’s “Summertime”, reminiscing over barbecues at the park, young love, and the brevity of halcyon youth. The relaxed and jazzy “Quik’s Groove III” is another highlight, as bass, guitar, piano and flute combine to create a smooth, soulful instrumental.

The swaggering “Shack Up”-sampling “Sucka Free” features a cameo from Playa Hamm, all funky braggadocio and over much too quikly (pun thoroughly intended). The jazz-flavoured “Keep Tha ‘P’ In It”, again featuring Playa Hamm but this time extending the cameo invitations to Hi-C, 2nd II None and Kam, is pure laidback P-Funk. The deep bass and industrial drums make sure the groove hits hard.

“Tanqueray” was originally a hidden track on the CD version of the album, but it’s too good to hide. This wild party samples Brass Construction’s gigantic “Get Up To Get Down” and soars in its drunk-ebullience. An apt way to close this party-driven set.

This 2022 Be With double LP re-issue has been mastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, cut by Pete Norman and pressed at Record Industry. Unusual for the time, Safe + Sound was originally pressed as a double, so all that was missing was the CD’s hidden bonus track “Tanqueray”, so we’ve fixed that. The original vinyl release never got a picture sleeve, so we’ve recreated the original’s promo-style silver-sticker and plain black jacket. A subtle cover for a wonderfully unsubtle record.

MAMMOTH is a grabber right out of the gate, every step they take is unleashed with deadly economical precision. They may flash on Lynyrd Skynyrd and other vintage southern rock traditions but the brilliant way the vocals are recorded and the to-the-point interlocking guitar moves will fire up anybody into any sort of hard rock. They can rip it up with hot leads, probably jammed out on these songs at live shows but lucky us, they laid them down for all times here with the sort of thought out unified force and construction that screams hit radio. Loads of personality, accessible, produced and mixed with the clarity of classic rock that never loses it's perfectly deployed impact. The uncluttered arrangements leave plenty of space, crafted with the kind of balanced mojo in the mix where every detail adds to the whole. Down and dirty but also achieving a universal pop-friendly appeal! The Mammoth LP was recorded in 1981 at Relayer Studios in DeLand, Florida with the two guitars, bass and drums quartet line-up sounding like it could have been a decade earlier. Buzz Fetters on lead guitar, Bill Abell on rhythm guitar, Joey Costa on bass and Ron Herman on drums… with everybody contributing to the vocals. Rather than having a strong up front emotive singer the lead vocals here are multi-tracked and integrated into the songs with plenty of attitude but also a genre-transcending presence… you can imagine the vocal ambience working in punk, glam, even psychedelic contexts. Mammoth have a sound informed by roots music but it is really in the rear-view mirror the way they roll. The songwriting here is terrific, they have a way of saying things that comes off as sincere but not too serious. You get plenty of in-your-face hard rock action but also several melodic tracks that have a more reflective charm to round out the trip. AND… when you hear their brilliant ode to southern rock titled "Southern Sounds" I challenge you to find any song about the subject more delightful. These guys keep it real, whether they're being bad ass or vulnerable they express themselves with 100% genuine feeling as contagious and life affirming as it gets!

Mischievous festa punk meets astral steppas, kalaedoscopic free ambient meets harsh noise, scattered amen breaks with IDM and free jazz trumpets meets the earthly plod of digidub. It can only be Felinto from Sao Paulo.
UTOPIA MILHÃO honors the life forces that allow us to transform the darkness where dreams reside. The album brings a new moment of intimacy for Felinto's musical expression flowing through dirty, raw, dense and brilliant dub fractals, ready to transform unexpectedly into a new shape then another, and another, and another... featuring collaborations with magical people: Sarine (Deafkids), Douglas Leal (Deafkids), Guizado (Afrobombas), Sandra X, Paula Rebellato (Rakta), Lorena Hollander, Yao Bobby, Kiko Dinucci, Paulo Papaleo, Cint Murphy, Rodrigo Lima.
Felinto is a political agitator and musician at the heart of the São Paulo underground - a movement that confronts the various effects of the capitalist system of racial, sexual, ,,,,, and 22222 lawand material oppression.

His provocations range from yoga for children and parenting studies (SACYOGA), theatre (PROJETO CRIOULOS and PROJETO JAMES BALDWIN), web series highlighting the black presence in electronic music in São Paulo (MODULAÇÃO PRETA), reflective groups on gender violence and masculinities, occupation of public spaces for political art q(Coletivo Sistema Negro), artistic curatorship (Residência SOMSOCOSMOS) and studies with sound as a tool in conflict mediation practices. Felinto composes for film, theatre and immersive installations such as MEGACITIES presented at the National Gallery of Victoria, Canada in 2023.

He is currently researching - as part of a masters project in clinical psychology - the collectivised dream realities of black people. A field of action that contemporary anthropology, psychoanalysis and psychology call ONIROPOLITICA.

His interest in affinity groups, autonomous networks of micro-political articulation and penal abolitionism led him to the questions: what do black people dream about within the permanent context of civil war and state violence (like the one in Brazil)? How does this experience create dreams and how does the dream affect the construction of identities beyond the boundaries established by the capitalist unconscious?

For our second disc of ‘24, ONO returns to the club with ‘Tek Code’, a brilliant EP from exciting up-and-coming Boorloo artist, Beltrac.

Across five tracks, Beltrac serves up his fresh and considered sound. Spanning dubbed-out minimal rollers that hark back to the sleazy, smoke-infused tech-house of the late '90s and early 2000s. Into exhilarating excursions into frenetic drums and deep bass that display Beltrac’s penchant for rhythm construction and sound design. Setting the tone and tempo for Side B of the disc, Echo Response receives the remix treatment from Eora dub king Command D, who mutates the wonky bass chug of the Side A closer into a hazy after hours dub techno strider.

Combining careful attention to detail and excellent technical production with an undeniable sense of groove, Beltrac delivers a club ready EP that tickles our brain while keeping our body moving. Turn it up loud, this one’s for the late night crew.

»Nuts of Ay«, the thirteenth album by the Berlin-based electronic pop duo Tarwater (Ronald Lippok and Bernd Jestram), is their first in a decade, since 2014’s »Adrift«. Beautifully poised and smartly dressed, it's an album that draws Tarwater’s various pasts into a high-definition present, while bringing the duo, yet again, into productive dialogue with all kinds of fellow travellers.

Tarwater’s music has always been marked by a hypnotic pop-ness, but that’s particularly evident on »Nuts of Ay«, where a song like »Hideous Kiss« weaves together jangling guitar, pastoral flute, and flittering electronics into a gem-like construction. While the lyrics of »Hideous Kiss« are written by the duo, »Nuts of Ay« also continues a longstanding Tarwater tradition of recasting the words of others in their own mould. This time, their remit is broad: poetry from Derek Jarman (»All Nuns«) and Millner Place (»Trapdoor Spider«); lyrics from Jean Kenbrovin (»I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles«), the late Shane MacGowan (»USA«) and, again, John Lennon (»Everybody Had a Hard Year«).

This cast of found and borrowed lyricists also finds collaborative echo in the guest musicians dotted throughout »Nuts of Ay«. Schneider TM turns up on the lovely, Felt-like »Spirit of Flux«, where guitars channel the tangled reveries of Vini Reilly and Maurice Deebank into lush pop. Carsten Nicolai joins, as Alva Noto, dappling »On Waves and Years« with intimate glitching textures; he also provides the album cover art. Elsewhere, Masha Qrella appears on »Down Comes the Goose«, and actor Lars Rudolph pitches in for »USA«.

It may have been ten years since the album's predecessor, but Lippok and Jestram have kept active with other projects. They’ve collaborated with Masha Qrella, Immersion, and Iggy Pop; worked on radio plays with Kai Grehn, some based on the writing of Nick Cave (»The Sick Bag Song«, featuring Tilda Swinton, Paula Beer and Alexander Fehling) and William S. Burroughs (»The Cat Inside«); and made music for several radio-tatorts (radio plays based on »Tatort«, a long-running German police TV series) by playwright Tom Peuckert.

Both voracious and committed in their creative energies, Jestram and Lippok report back from these experiments with »Nuts of Ay«, one of their most compelling, deeply lustrous, dreamlike albums yet. They say there was no concept for the album, which is surprising, perhaps, given its holistic mood, explaining it »grew together like a coral reef in the studio over a period of several years«. There’s something to be said for letting an album gather and mutate naturally, without an overarching framework in place, and »Nuts of Ay« certainly feels like an unforced collection of material that nonetheless inhabits a similar space, one where guitars twist like driftwood next to amorphous, aqueous electronics, Lippok’s droll yet completely convincing vocal delivery riding songs that pulse and plume with curious, unpredictable rhythms.

But you can also hear elements – submerged but still present – of other music that’s inspired the duo: they’ve drawn some connections for us with psychedelic folk, Bowie in Berlin, Burial, and the film music of Popol Vuh and Krzysztof Komeda. This music shares a strong sense of place – whether in the world, or the mind – and the twelve songs on »Nuts of Ay« have such similar presence; a shared mood, a shared world, a shared sense of the possibilities of what electronic pop music could, and should, be. A bold and brave pop experiment.

Artwork by Carsten Nicolai
Mastering by Bo Kondren, Calyx Berlin

»Trapdoor Spider«, »On Waves and Years« & »Breaking Day«: lyrics by Milner Place
»All Nuns«: lyrics by Derek Jarman
»USA«: lyrics by Shane MacGowan
»Down Comes the Goose«: lyrics from a traditional song
»Forever Blowing Bubbles«: lyrics by Jaan Kenbrovin
»Everybody Had a Hard Year«: lyrics by John Lennon

This concert marks an important moment in the history of The Flower Kings, as they
masterfully perform their classic material and showcase their strength as a melodic,
tight and incredibly dynamic unit. Each band member is given plenty of room to
shine, resulting in a stunning musical experience. This album captures the essence
and energy of the band like never before.
Despite being tracked from the PA board on just one night, this recording and mix
stand out as the finest live recording document of The Flower Kings ever. The mix is
perfected to highlight every detail. The album will be released on vinyl on Nov 15.
Mirko DeMaio: Drums & Percussion / Michael Stolt: Bass, Moogbass & Vocal / Lalle
Larsson: Keyboards / Hasse Fröberg: Guitars, Vocal & Percussion / Roine Stolt:
Guitars, Vocals
Mixed By Roine Stolt February/March 2023

This concert marks an important moment in the history of The Flower Kings, as they
masterfully perform their classic material and showcase their strength as a melodic,
tight and incredibly dynamic unit. Each band member is given plenty of room to
shine, resulting in a stunning musical experience. This album captures the essence
and energy of the band like never before.
Despite being tracked from the PA board on just one night, this recording and mix
stand out as the finest live recording document of The Flower Kings ever. The mix is
perfected to highlight every detail. The album will be released on vinyl on Nov 15.
Mirko DeMaio: Drums & Percussion / Michael Stolt: Bass, Moogbass & Vocal / Lalle
Larsson: Keyboards / Hasse Fröberg: Guitars, Vocal & Percussion / Roine Stolt:
Guitars, Vocals
Mixed By Roine Stolt February/March 2023

based songwriter Henrik Appel returns with third album Shadows. Ranging from freewheeling garage rock to intimate moments, and adding touches of jazz, Shadows is inspired by the likes of Bob Dylan’s Blond on Blonde and The Fall’s Hex Enduction Hour and another step of his continued evolution as a songwriter and artist.

For as long as he’s been a solo artist, Henrik Appel has been in a constant state of evolution. His first album, 2018’s Burning Bodies, was a meticulous construction project, one that came togeth-er over a five-year period and that saw him chronicle, with searing honesty, the slow death of a relationship, with its nine songs written according to a stringent set of self-imposed rules, intend-ed to keep the songwriting minimalist and bare-bones in nature.

His 2021 follow-up, Humanity, represented a remarkable progression of its own. It was born out of a break-up of a different kind, this time with his former bandmates in Stockholm outfit Lion’s Den; piecing together aspects of the vision he’d had in mind for the band’s never-realised second al-bum, he built from them his own sophomore LP, one that took the classic feel of Burning Bodies and imbued it with adventurous new influences, as he began to carve out a genuinely singular sound.

Now, three years on from Humanity, Appel has made another ambitious left turn. Neither of his first two albums were made in complete isolation; on both, he enlisted the production services of Stockholm underground legend Martin ‘Konie’ Ehrencrona, and also collaborated on his lyrics with his partner, Emma Lind. Now, on this thrilling reinvention of a third record, Appel has turned away from perfectionism, placing chief importance instead on making a raw, human record.

Ltd Double Silver Vinyl, Monochrome edition artwork, DL card. Originally released in 1990, Royal Trux’s ‘Twin Infinitives’ is being re-issued in all its (yet to be translated) alien glory, by Fire Records. A dismantled overture that sprawls out over two records, an avant-garde masterpiece that was the spark for Drag City Records and generations of new sound seeking musicians. Hailed in the same immortal breath as Beefheart’s ‘Trout Mask Replica’, the Velvets’ at their frenzied peak and Ornette Coleman at his most avant-garde, the duo of Pussy Galore’s Neil "Michael" Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema recorded ‘Twin Infinitives’ while imbibing all kinds of mind-altering substances to create an inadvertent blueprint for what the duo was building with Moogs, guitars and melodicas to name a few ingredients. It is the legendary second album from the masters of the genre mashup - long before “genre mashups” even existed. Arguably, the term “mashup” was coined to describe what Trux, as they subconsciously scrolled through the radio stations of their lives. The album’s chaotic sound and offbeat construction laid the foundations for a string of Royal Trux albums that spiralled between genres, tunings, and noise. Through the 90s they would re-invent the rock ‘n’ roll ethic, straddle alien surf music, re-align boogie rock, not to mention 80s hair metal, and confound critics by their wildly meandering and courageous rites of passage. Remastered as part of a career spanning catalogue deal with Fire Records. The infamous and influential duo of Jennifer Herrema and Neil Hagerty will be delving into the archive with a comprehensive reissue series, unearthing the vaults and revisiting what made them such a compelling benchmark for their contemporaries and imitators. Reawakening their prolific output within a new monochrome vinyl series covering 1988-1993, they begin with their seminal deconstructed rock masterpiece Twin Infinitives. “Sounding like a subway ride inside a television inside an earthquake inside the end of the world and a pounding death rhythm of apocalyptic now.” Pitchfork. Track List: Disc One: A1 Solid Gold Tooth A2 Ice Cream A3 Jet Pet A4 RTX-USA A5 Kool Down Wheels B1 Chances Are The Comets In Our Future B2 Yin Jim Versus The Vomit Creature B3 Osiris Disc Two. C1 (Edge Of The) Ape Oven D1 Florida Avenue Theme D2 Lick My Boots D3 Glitterbust D4 Funky Son D5 Ratcreeps D6 New York Avenue Bridge

SHHE, Scottish-Portuguese sound artist and producer Su Shaw, is releasing new mini-album, ‘DÝRA’, on July 19th via One Little Independent Records. The ambient project took form during a self-directed artist residency in the Westfjords of Iceland, influenced by the tranquillity of the Dýrafjörður fjord. Immersed in a distinct landscape with quietly monumental surroundings, Shaw began documenting her experience of the environment through field recordings and environmental data captured across several geographical locations.

‘DÝRA’ is an exploratory and mesmerising durational piece, evocative in its construction, inviting listeners to imagine their own space and scale within a landscape. Reflective, textured, and pensive, with expansive synths that further showcase Shaw’s deftness in sculpting immersive and introspective soundscapes.

Dýrafjörður is a 32-kilometre-long fjord in the Ísafjarðarbær municipality, in the Westfjords of Iceland. Shaw originally embarked on a 10-day residency in 2018, during which the village experienced an immense storm, hindering her schedule. Shaw explains, “It was my first visit to Iceland, and I’d made myself a meticulous itinerary in advance, which included recording at the summit of some of the peaks in the fjord. When the storm arrived after only a few days, it made any kind of travel challenging – so partly out of necessity to be able to continue developing the project, I began recording my immediate surroundings instead – attuned to incidental sounds from around the village and fluctuating weather states – and I quickly built up an archive of the environment”.

Originally released in 1990, Royal Trux's 'Twin Infinitives' is being re-issued in all its (yet to be translated) alien glory, by Fire Records. A dismantled overture that sprawls out over two records, an avant-garde masterpiece that was the spark for Drag City Records and generations of new sound seeking musicians. Hailed in the same immortal breath as Beefheart's 'Trout Mask Replica', the Velvets' at their frenzied peak and Ornette Coleman at his most avant-garde, the duo of Pussy Galore's Neil "Michael" Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema recorded 'Twin Infinitives' while imbibing all kinds of mind-altering substances to create an inadvertent blueprint for what the duo was building with moog's, guitars and melodicas to name a few ingredients. It is the legendary second album from the masters of the genre mashup - long before "genre mashups" even existed. Arguably, the term "mashup" was coined to describe what Trux, as they subconsciously scrolled through the radio stations of their lives. The album's chaotic sound and offbeat construction laid the foundations for a string of Royal Trux albums that spiralled between genres, tunings, and noise. Through the 90s they would re-invent the rock 'n' roll ethic, straddle alien surf music, re-align boogie rock, not to mention 80s hair metal, and confound critics by their wildly meandering and courageous rites of passage. Remastered as part of a career spanning catalogue deal with Fire Records. The infamous and influential duo of Jennifer Herrema and Neil Hagerty will be delving into the archive with a comprehensive reissue series, unearthing the vaults and revisiting what made them such a compelling benchmark for their contemporaries and imitators. Reawakening their prolific output within a new monochrome vinyl series covering 1988-1993, they begin with their seminal deconstructed rock masterpiece Twin Infinitives. "Sounding like a subway ride inside a television inside an earthquake inside the end of the world and a pounding death rhythm of apocalyptic now." Pitchfork Ltd Double Silver Vinyl, Monochrome edition artwork, DL card.

Fabulous Soundtracks, the fourth studio album by reclusive Los Angeles musician Jack Name, is an homage to the IRL world and its twisted and varied romance with the worlds of our minds, in a wild collection of "soundtracks'', each a sonic re-construction dedicated to a distinct scene. Both musically and lyrically, this is Name's most adventurous and genre-defying album. Elements of acid, dance, folk, micro-tonal weirdness, horror, sensuality, impressionism, and bursts of rock fuse with Name's most direct yet ethereal lyric writing to date.

Each song with artful intention confuses dream-like experiences and common everyday situations, and vice-versa, sometimes inflicting a frightening energy into the banal, or this in reverse. Offering a "fabulous soundtrack" as the title implies, to dreamlike cinematic scenography including but not limited to; walking alone through a park at night, a woman tiptoeing through a garden, a person wrestling with time and change, lust, grieving a pet, driving alone in the rain, laying in bed with a lover, a bare tree standing in a field, looking through pieces of glass, and inviting the devil into the home (as one does).

The YUM YUMS, Europe's ambassadors of power-pop are back with a brandnew album!!! Their sixth full-length is called "Poppin' Up Again" you you can be sure that whenever they have a new album poppin' up, it's gonna be a hit record!!! It's stacked with catchy hi-energy, guitar-driven power-pop songs, complete with sugary multi-layered harmonies and lyrics that seems to be stolen from some 12 year-old girl's diary. Like Joss Hutton once wrote in Bucketfull Of Brains Magazine, "Let's consider the three minute pop-song for a second or two: so simple in it's construction, so inscrutable in it's perfection, so many who have tried and failed! For me the YUM YUMS have been THE band to watch over the past few years, their perfect (yep, it's true) take on the "power-pop" thang is a source of constant pleasure and amuzement". A pretty good description that is, but what more can we say about the undisputed kings of pop? This time they deliver their idea of REAL POWER-POP, where the word power is written in capital letters and fill it up with a perfect dose of classic rock'n'roll. Putting together the essential ingrediences of the music of the RAMONES, the REAL KIDS, the PLIMSOULS, the DEVIL DOGS, the early SWEET and the OHIO EXPRESS, the 6t's and the 7t's, bubblegum, glam and punk, pop and r'n'r, they create their very own YUMMY sound. So, what we're talking about is extremely catchy pop-music with a fat, rockin' guitar sound, well executed vocal-lines, ridin'-on-the-waves drums and a crunchy punk feel to it. It simply makes you feel good!

Over the past decade Rising Sun has firmly established himself as a purveyor of the finest deep, dubby and cinematic leaning house and techno, consistently delivering a sound that is distinctly his through labels such as Fauxpas, Freund Der Familie and his own numerous imprints Reality Used To Be A Friend Of Mine, Kristofferson Kristofferson and Beautiful Things Don't Ask For Attention under a variant of guises such as The Ambientist, Rising Sun Project, Rising Sun Psyche, Rising Sun Melancholia and simply Rising Sun under which he returns here for Echocord. As one has come to expect from a Rising Sun release ‘The Eternal’ has a firm foundation in emotive melodies and atmospherics across six alternate versions. ‘Eternal 1’ leads with muted drums, fluttering stabs and a preaching spoken word vocal. ‘Eternal 2’ edges into darked realms, merging expansive dub echoes with swelling subs and tension building strings before ‘Eternal 3’ dives head first into ethereal hypnotism via unfurling textures, soft stab sequences and a rounded kick. ‘Eternal 4’ opens the B-side with a subtly unfolding construction as vocals, chords and swinging drums run in unison. ‘Eternal 5’ then strips things back to a gritty statured feel with boomy percussion, enchanting strings and nuanced stabs before ‘Eternal 6’ rounds out the release laying down murky, multilayered pads, widely dispersing reverberations and bubbling delays throughout.

Musician and visual artist Kim Gordon returns with her second solo album, The Collective, which will be released March 8th on Matador. Recorded in Gordon"s native Los Angeles, The Collective follows her 2019 full-length debut No Home Record and continues her collaboration with producer Justin Raisen (Lil Yachty, John Cale, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Charli XCX, Yves Tumor), with additional production from Anthony Paul Lopez. The album advances their joint world building, with Raisin"s damaged, blown out dub and trap constructions playing the foil to Gordon"s intuitive word collages and hooky mantras, which conjure communication, commercial sublimation and sensory overload. Die erste Single "BYE BYE," is out now, driven by a snaking drill bassline which guides us through a haunting packing list. Gordon will also play six live shows around The Collective"s arrival, beginning March 22 in Washington, D.C.

Musician and visual artist Kim Gordon returns with her second solo album, The Collective, which will be released March 8th on Matador. Recorded in Gordon"s native Los Angeles, The Collective follows her 2019 full-length debut No Home Record and continues her collaboration with producer Justin Raisen (Lil Yachty, John Cale, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Charli XCX, Yves Tumor), with additional production from Anthony Paul Lopez. The album advances their joint world building, with Raisin"s damaged, blown out dub and trap constructions playing the foil to Gordon"s intuitive word collages and hooky mantras, which conjure communication, commercial sublimation and sensory overload. Die erste Single "BYE BYE," is out now, driven by a snaking drill bassline which guides us through a haunting packing list. Gordon will also play six live shows around The Collective"s arrival, beginning March 22 in Washington, D.C.

Drum-machine soul, funk, disco and boogie from Buffalo, NY. Rare 7" singles and previously unreleased tracks presented as a complete album. In the early 70s, Jessie Key and Sylvester Cleary - two passionate idealists living in Buffalo, New York - formed a close friendship based on a mutual mission to better their city. The Attica State Prison Riot of 1971 was a burning memory, and the Arthur vs. Nyquist lawsuit - brought against the City of Buffalo for creating and maintaining a racially segregated school system - was on the docket. Key was once a cotton-laborer in Mississippi, who journeyed north for school where he met his kindred spirit, Cleary. The two struck up an intense friendship, bought a drum machine and recorded their first 45, "A Man," a paean to self-actualization and Black American empowerment, which they custom pressed and issued privately. Dozens of recordings followed over a decade long span, issued on local labels and warehoused on cassette tapes. Perennial optimists, Key & Cleary tried any - perhaps every! - path they could demarcate in hopes of forwarding their agenda of self-effected, positive change. They formed Buffalo’s first minority-owned construction company, opened a health food restaurant in a building previously occupied by a fast food chain, and even concocted a candy bar called "The Buffalo Treat," which they manufactured and sold locally. Eventually they started their own label, Buffalo’s Reflection. On it they released their masterpiece, "What It Takes To Live," a sought-after disco and Northern Soul classic, which previously appeared on Now-Again”s Soul Cal anthology. This album collates the breadth of Key & Cleary’s recordings from 1970 until the mid 1980s, both with songs issued on rare 7" singles and previously unreleased. It presents a conjoined musical vision and tells the story of a duo years ahead of their time, both musically and culturally. Love Is The Way was their ethos - their goal was to enlighten humanity and to bend history in a more loving direction through communion.

The American singer-songwriter tradition has always been tethered to a rustic austerity, the sort of front-porch authenticity that suggests an age where home electronics are still considered luxury items. But there's also the ongoing influence of Bob Dylan and The Band's Basement Tapes-that strange and beloved document of the magic that happens when private experiments with the folk template flourish into layered and lush songs-and its genesis through informal recording sessions. In our modern age, these kinds of casual DIY constructions are perhaps the more honest contribution to the Americana lineage-the true homespun artform. When Michael Nau and Whitney McGraw struck out on their own in the wake of the dissolution of their beloved indie-folk outfit Page France, they continued their songwriting practice with a new project called Cotton Jones Basket Ride. As legend has it, Nau and McGraw were working on the material for their debut full-length Paranoid Cocoon (2009) when they realized they had an entire album's worth of odds-and-ends from various recording sessions. The resultant album - The River Strumming - was released in 2008 on St. Ives in a batch of 300 unique hand-packaged LPs. As the label advertised it back in the day, the band "initially set out to make a cohesive record, and made just the opposite." Like The Basement Tapes, The River Strumming is a document of a band exploring possibilities without the weight of expectation. The band would eventually condense their name to Cotton Jones and make a name for themselves in the indie world for their fusion of dreamy folk and psychedelic baroque pop. But in the beginning, there was this weird and wonderful collection of songs made by musicians who were enjoying the private process of finding their path. Suicide Squeeze is proud to present a 15th-anniversary vinyl reissue of this long out-of-print classic with updated artwork by Kayleigh Montgomery-Morris.

In a recent interview, the California artist Jim Haynes was asked to name his top five noise albums. In quick fashion, he listed off Kill The King, Send, Desnos, Persona, and Carcinosi. Since then, he's equivocated on which albums to choose, but the artists behind such works remain as the adjacent signposts and landmarks to his own constructions of industrial noise. How those records connect to the output from Haynes is found in their unique combination of smoldering dynamism and psychological inquest. For over twenty five years, Haynes has been an autodidactic clinician into the processes of corrosion, decay, and rust, turning his attention away from visual practices and more to the metaphoric crucible of noise and sound. By now, it seems like a cliche that the pandemic changed everything; but since that viral encroachment, there is a noticeable shift in Haynes' work post 2020. It's more aggressive and yet more controlled: a rarification and telescoping of the research into decay for more potent noise and more potent metaphor.

The tools for Haynes' work remain limited: motors, electronics, shortwave radio, found objects, all applied with considerable pressure. Compositionally, Inauspicious is a very rough moire pattern from overlapping elliptical structures that can negate and obfuscate just as easily as they can compound and aggregate. The album surges and collapses upon the two twenty minute chunks of controlled noise that follow an internal logic that snakes from brooding power drones, spectral radio transmission, and an aktionist demolition cast upon metal, glass, and unfortunate wooden objects. Rupture and release. Purge and pulse.

2023 Repress
Moon in Earthlight describes the phenomenon one can see in the first few days after a New Moon, when the slim crescent of the moon is completed into a full circle by a faint light that is not lit by sunlight but by the light reflected from Earth. It is also the apt title for the first album from an artist whose first love was astronomy. After 6 EPs over the course of 5 years, Wolfgang Tillmans now releases his first album, Moon in Earthlight, a singularly plural 53-minute piece comprised of 19 tracks.
Opening with more that connects us than divides us, 'Celloloop / More That Connects Us', a looped cello sets out a discursive path for a bright keyed melody to flirt with while the sounds of the organ and synthesizer build their supporting roles, all along a bouncing four-to-the-floor beat punctuated with bright electronic chimes and the rhythmic tempo of a shaker. The invitation is hard to resist as a yearning voice opens up to let us know he's left his "place in security." And, "you're shining … All the way down to this glittering place … you're shining." Where voices and laughter are then overheard in the background of another field recording sounding water dripping from a 'Rain Gutter' later caught by the soft, warm rhythmic bounce between two synth notes on 'Fourth Floor' where chime-like and percussive timbres resonate from the metal tine keys of the kalimba creating a meditative acuity, which Tillmans peppers with arpeggiated synth riffs.
A composition of multiplicities, Tillmans' album debut is a collage of sounds, field recordings, words, studio jam sessions and live recordings, voice, soundscapes, and instrumentation scored with audible space to breathe along the way. Keeping pace, the first 'Kardio Loop' is a vocal callisthenics contemplating 'the possibility of a happy life' and/or the propositional properties of its semantic constructions backed by the recording of a heartbeat from a cardiogram. This movement is gradually accompanied by a set of orchestral synth pads that build to a crescendo before the soft, twirling melody of 'Stonerella' carries us along a carousel-like melodic, pop, instrumental timed in the percussive clapping of pebbles.
Not knowing where one leaves off and the other begins is part of this album's enigma, as we move in and out of these aural spaces choreographed with the slightest, open hand, where we can float through 'Don't Kill It by Naming It' before dancing along 'Insanely Alive' all the while contemplating the inherent, fragile complexities of language and being.
This enigma also stems from the raw vulnerability of Tillmans' voice. Whether lyrically playful or introspective, it is always giving: intimately unfolding as in the surprising take on Simon & Garfunkel's 'El Condor Pasa' or shapeshifting in 'Can't Escape into Space' or fully naked as raw material expression in 'Kantine' and 'Ocean Walk'.
Whether it's Tillmans voice or voices overheard, a field recording or a pop synth melody, these sounds defy track listings, audibly held together as one of many in an aural space that becomes a reflective cycle that develops over the course of the album. The accumulative effect of which (reminiscent of the artist's installations), drives the singularity of each of the album's elements into a complete, unconsolidated whole. Like a phenomenon that marks time, Moon in Earthlight is the shadow and the reflection, fifty-three minutes in time.

In 2555, in a devastated future, the apocalypse threatens the Earth. The last hope lies with a man capable of time travel. His mission: to return to the past and change the course of events. His target: Gilbert Alibert, a Member of Parliament about to approve the construction of a nuclear power station with the Chinese company Axomako. This event in the present will cause a huge catastrophe in the future, with a radioactive cloud killing half the world's population every 70 years.

Jimmy Tellier and Florent Dorin composed and arranged the film's original music.

When South Korean balearic prodigy Mogwaa came to MM Discos with an idea for his rst full-length album, we were a bit surprised.
He said, ‘I want to do an album of bossa tracks with synths, a drum machine and my guitar’. We obviously had to take him up
on that deal.

Fresh from the recent Bandcamp feature on his own brand of danceoor-ready modern boogie, Seungyoung Lee (aka Mogwaa)
arrives back on MM Discos with his - and our - rst full length exercise. With six tracks per side of 80s inuenced synth and bossa
badness, ‘Hazy Dreams’ is an exercise in simplicity, and more proof of the ever-expanding musical horizons of one of the scene’s
most virtuosic instrumentalists.

Pairing a sensitivity to the construction of ambient, funk, bossa and cassette-tape 80s experiments with his own cinematic subtlety,
‘Hazy Dreams’ takes a gentle, minimalistic approach, crafting its own escapist world that oers a welcome diversion from the
steady ow of busy balearica and downtempo.

Opening track ‘Full Bloom’ paints a picture of midsummer at dawn, some clear-skied island where lush vegetation climbs through
hibiscus gardens. ‘Nacimiento’ is an AOR/bossa crossover evoking West Coast yachting in full afternoon, and A3, ‘Soothing’, adds
a touch of wistfulness with reverb-doused guitars over meandering bass motifs.
The easy kick-and-snare combo of ‘Levitation’ sets the scene for a drum machine love aair, unrequited love on the rocks, and
‘Flashback’ plays with short delay trails and o-kilter melodic sequences, where you feel the soft presence of the nebula approaching
at the break of day. Closing out the A-side, ‘Dispatching’ reaches out even further into the imagined cosmos of Mogwaa’s
picture-perfect world, portraying an ambience at dusk, observing, calmy, as pued-up pink clouds melt into the evening canvas.
On the other side, Mogwaa explores quiet corners with ‘Illusions’, a slow meditation on the nature of simple presence, and ‘Echoes
of You’, a stream of subdued brush strokes that crescendo into higher frequencies on gently undulating pads. B3, ‘Moondance’,
ups the tempo and recalls classic Mogwaa with its sideways shue and starry melodic refrain, pivoting through folk-dance
moods and surprising chord changes.
Nearing the end of the album, ‘Footprints’ wades through tall grass in search of altered states, innite and hypnotic, changing
course only to crouch down and study the landscape, and B5, ‘It always comes and goes’, pictures the to-and-fro of jetstreams and
comets in the blinding midday sky. Finally we have the closing credits of ‘Swingin’ that looks o into the horizon, jaunty and exalted,
a guitar-led tribute to an easy-going world, and ultimately mindful of the power of dreams.
We’re humbled to have such a special record for our rst full-length release on the label.

Carl Finlow keeps on keepin' on. Not only is Finlow one of the most respected names in electro, a producer who boasts a sprawling catalogue that takes in a wide variety of aliases, but he's also spent recent years establishing himself as a mainstay for Sheffield's Central Processing Unit label. Soft Robotics, the new EP from Finlow's Silicon Scally project, is the fifth Silicon Scally release in five years to boast one of CPU's instantly-recognisable black-and-white covers.

The reason that Silicon Scally and CPU keep linking up is simple; they're a perfect fit for one another. Central Processing Unit has established itself as a haven for post-Drexciya producers since launching in 2012, and there are few artists better than Finlow at building on the Detroit group's sound. The union bears fruit once more on Soft Robotics, an EP of lithe machine-funk jams that will both do damage in the dance and also reward more concentrated home listening.

Things begin at a steadier speed than one might expect. Rather than barrelling off with the kind of sinewy roller one associates with the CPU name, Soft Robotics' title-track takes things at mid-pace. The groove reveals itself without hurry, Silicon Scally adding or subtracting elements - twitchy modular loops, pensive pads, the occasional blurt of low-end - atop the chugging bass/drums groove. It's a track which wins you over with guile rather than force.

As the name of subsequent cut 'Jitters' intimates, this one picks things up a little after 'Soft Robotics'. The tempo is higher here, the central beat more nervy. At their cores, though, 'Jitters' and 'Soft Robotics' are kindred spirits. Here, another slyly insistent bit of drum programming comes swirled up with all sorts of extraterrestrial tones, from little nuggets of melody supplied by the keys to electrifying synth stabs and percussive squelches.

Things limber up further still on first B-side 'Spin Ratio'. The track's 808 kicks are punchier than those of the A-side jams, and there's a dizziness to the bass tone which gives 'Spin Ratio' an intriguingly off-kilter feel. Atop the booming beat we find ourselves hypnotised by cells of melody and harmony interlocking or moving apart - particularly the staccato module at the track's heart. Sure enough, 'Spin Ratio' is the Soft Robotics joint which cleaves closest to Drexciya, invoking other Detroit disciples like Jensen Interceptor in the process.

After Soft Robotics picks up speed in the middle, closer 'Super Fluid Tones' brings us back to where we started. This track returns to the more measured delivery of the record's opener - there's a steady pulse to the drums, and once again Silicon Scally packs the mix with so many intriguing whizzes, bangs, blips and blurts that it's impossible not be won over by this tune's construction. 'Soft Robotics' and 'Super Fluid Tones' bookend Soft Robotics very nicely, and Silicon Scally's smart pacing gives the EP a lovely ebb and flow.

The ever-excellent Carl Finlow drops a Silicon Scally release via Central Processing Unit for the fifth year running. Like its predecessors, Soft Robotics is an excellent and deftly-crafted collection of modern machine-funk.

RIYL: Drexciya, Jensen Interceptor, Fleck E.S.C., The Advent

In addition to his day job transforming pop music with his own records, as well as those of Gastr del Sol, Loose Fur and Sonic Youth over the past few decades, Jim O"Rourke has been contracted for several dozen film scores over the years as well. It makes sense - his abilities as an improviser, composer and producer allow him to interpret cinematic moments with a unique understanding for their construction and how they work. It doesn"t hurt that Jim"s a well-versed cineaste, a complete and total fan of watching films, which has given him a preternatural understanding of the role of music in movies. What doesn"t make sense is how Hands That Bind is the first film soundtrack of Jim"s to ever receive worldwide release! He"s worked with filmmakers of international repute, like Olivier Assayas, Allison Anders, Werner Herzog and Kôji Wakamatsu! He served as music consultant on Richard Linklater"s 2003 laff-fest, School of Rock! He"s played in ensembles of award-winning documentaries and films alike! Throw the guy an internationally-promoted soundtrack LP every more often, why doncha? It was left to the "suits" of Drag City Records to innovate, once again, by taking a leap on an O"Rourke work. Made for an indie film that"s been seen by festival audiences and not enough others, the soundtrack for Hands That Bind is a moody, atmospheric delight. Jim"s roots in composition via tape-editing have evolved into a sophisticated assembly of found-and-processed sounds that achieve highly musical, near-orchestral majesty as they hang in the very air of the drama that unfolds in Kyle Armstrong"s Hands That Bind. Described as a "slow-burn prairie gothic drama" set in the farmland of Canada"s Alberta province, and starring Paul Sparks, Susan Kent, Landon Liboiron, Nicholas Campbell, Will Oldham, and Bruce Dern, Hands That Bind is a spellbinding trip to the existential bone of rural working life in North America. As conflict rises over the hard-worked patches of land that provide a mere and mean existence, a desperate air settles in, as a series of mysterious, often supernatural occurrences rock the small community. O"Rourke"s vaporous, serpentine musical backdrops and atmospheres reflect the obsessions and distractions of the film"s principles; moods of all sorts seen or otherwise implied. Additionally, the music highlights cinematographer Mike McLaughlin"s closely observed accounting of the farmers" environment, as well as the striking widescreen images of the big sky country with unnerving flair. For fans of Jim"s ongoing steamroom series as well as collectors of soundtracks, Hands That Bind will provide hours of engrossing listening. And if you get a chance, see the movie projected in a movie house, please - farmers aren"t the only ones struggling these days!

A1 - Burst Transmission

ASC returns with another stellar solo EP and Burst Transmission dives straight in head first to kick things off, pulsing crafted breakbeats and computer FX intertwine and stack with smooth synths, keys and trademark vocal hits. A powerful undertone bassline perfect for the dancefloor keeps the momentum going with blissful speckles of detail in the composition, including expertly tuned bongo drums scattered throughout.

A2 - Whispers

Sci-fi vibes take center stage as ASC channels that classic 720 energy with Whispers, a track which utilises sharp stabbing snares in distinct, forceful drum patterns which develop and adapt over halcyon synthwork. Respite comes in the middle of the track as the breaks change and settle the vibe briefly, before we are thrust forward again with those epic breaks commanding our attention once more.

AA1 - Psionic bond

ASC continues the retro sci-fi vibes with Psionic Bond, entering with zapping laser FX and a haunting vocal sample echoing before thunderous breaks thrash their way into the track, epic kicks and sharp thrusting snares dominate proceedings while through the wooshing layers of synthwork a distinctive bassy melody elevates the composition. This one is going to send the lucky discerning dancefloor into extra-sensory fever.

AA2 - Future Music

Ending the EP with something a little different, Future Music gives us a true taste of the old school brand new. A building intro lashes you with jabbing bass and effects, classic hi-hats rattle and slowly the 90's jungle breakbeat edits are released in waves as the piece progresses. The construction of the breaks is staggered sparingly, weaved with an influx of effects and samples creating a truly unique experience.

Jimmy LaValle’s The Album Leaf has spun from solo outlet to full band and back in its nearly 25 years. His acclaimed catalog spans releases for labels such as Sub Pop, City Slang, Relapse, and others. He also composes music for film and television, scoring over 20 projects (narrative features, documentaries, and TV series) since 2009. The cinematic sensibilities of The Album Leaf were present from the beginning. His 1999 debut introduced the start of a signature sound: melodic and meditative electro-organic soundscapes constructed with guitar, percussion, Rhodes, and field recordings.

His seventh full-length LP, and first since 2016, arrives in 2023 via Vancouver’s Nettwerk Records. FUTURE FALLING finds LaValle working with an array of musicians, shaping slightly darker, more spacious, and synth-driven songs with contributions from Bat For Lashes, Kimbra, and many others.
The music registers a shade darker and more synth-driven than most moments in his acclaimed catalog, a bridge between shadowy, cerebral terrain and dreamy precision pop, where softly percussive frameworks meet shimmering sound design and emotive instrumentation.
LaValle sees the construction of FUTURE FALLING as less conventional than past work. Contributions were done remotely with a “throw everything at it” mindset, making LaValle the arranger of layers from all over: drums, synths, horns, violins, voice, and more. LaValle created a pastiche of these layers and elements; in some cases even moving vocal takes to new tracks entirely. Without the in-the-room dynamics, he had more time to experiment, adding and subtracting ad infinitum.
The album opens on “PROLOGUE,” an evocative, slow-building instrumental that rides a pattern into a symphonic sea of static. Keys and horns glide atop the rhythmic pulse of “DUST COLLECTS,” setting the contemplative scene for “AFTERGLOW,” the record’s most pop-minded performance. Here Kimbra, the Grammy-winning New Zealand singer-songwriter, renders a striking recollection of past love as percussive elements shimmer and swirl.
A plaintive piano line moves throughout “Cycles 19.9” encircled by light ambient washes, both a valley between two peaks and a powerful composition in its own right. “Future Falling” follows; with origins tracing back to 2015, the track embodies the full sonic journey LaValle has taken. All the hallmarks of The Album Leaf — melodic builds, vivid sprawl, tonal shape-shifting — assemble to a blissful finish.

For the next stretch, “Cycles” begins with a uneasy Rhodes loop that builds and erupts into a wall of texture paving its way into “Give In,” where LaValle models a movement that begins subtle and measured before curving up with skyward, percussive bursts (“Stride”) and settling back down to the album’s back-half centerpiece, “Near” featuring the acclaimed English artist Natasha Khan aka Bat For Lashes. “Do you feel me near?” she sings into a mist of widescreen synths and soothing, distant drum beats as if searching through the dark.

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

Timeless atmospheres, hypnotic sonorities, minimal arrangements. And a composer gifted with a never ending passion for music, experimenter in his genetic code, innovator by vocation, at ease with various instruments in order to forge avant-garde themes. Piero Umiliani was already forward in building completely new sounds in the late Seventies. “Tra Scienza E Fantascienza” finds his alter ego Moggi experimenting with alternative grooves, electronic music, jazz tunes and soundtrack motifs. One of the most interesting music libraries in the Italian composer's discography, reissued with a new remastering by Musica Per Immagini, is in full harmony with its title.

Science fiction has opened up our eyes to a variety of scenarios, possible or impossible, sometimes with a happy ending, sometimes apocalyptic, at times familiarly near, more often disarmingly far away, and always capable of inspiring our imagination. For the histrionic artist it took, perhaps, less of a cosmic leap to create this masterpiece. Centred on the cover, a strange creature with only one eye, its hands on a beaker containing a mysterious red liquid. To its right, a symbolic circle is imprinted on a sandy surface, and three bizarre constructions, similar to the volumetric flasks found in a laboratory, of differing heights and shapes. There is a strange blue planet in the distance.

French pianist Melaine Dalibert, known for his releases on contemporary music labels such as Another Timbre and Elsewhere, his work with David Sylvian, Ensemble 0, Sylvain Chauveau, and world premieres from Gérard Pesson, Giuliano D'Angiolini, Michael-Vincent Waller, Tom Johnson, has signed with FLAU in Japan to release a new album Magic Square.

Across the album's eight tracks, the French pianist and composer takes listeners on a "fantasy journey". Travel is at the heart of Magic Square, but not of the physical kind. Instead, his emotive and intriguing piano pieces inspire inward travel and daydreaming, reflecting the past two years of pandemic and introspection.

Having received his training in Rennes and the conservatories of Paris, Dalibert has a musical background that is naturally entrenched in the technical aesthetic of classical music. However, experimenting with algorithmic ways of writing and other mathematical concepts such as fractals, Dalibert's music combines emotion and logic for captivating results. His music has been played on BBC Radio, Radio France and NTS Radio, among others.

“Melaine Dalibert, himself a composer whose works similarly deal in patience and space, is an ideal interpreter « As with his other releases, Dalibert breaks boundaries difficult to define but easy to hear, rendering and dissolving their polarities with a new iteration of his already luminous language. » (Mark Medwin, Dusted Magazine, juillet 2021) of such beguilingly modest music, and this sensitive recording lets every detail resound.”
Steve Smith — The New-Yorker

“compositions by French pianist Melaine Dalibert, is a warm stream of harmonious ripples that echoes the graceful postclassical music of Max Richter, Ólafur Arnalds, Jóhann Jóhannsson, etc, but the economy and precision, combined with Dalibert’s calm hands on the keys, put it on a whole other level of beauty.”
Derek Walmsley — the WIRE

“As with his other releases, Dalibert breaks boundaries difficult to define but easy to hear, rendering and dissolving their polarities with a new iteration of his already luminous language.”
Mark Medwin — Dusted Magazine

“Dalibert is one of the most effortlessly talented and subtlety creative pianists at work today”
Roger Batty — Musique Machine

“Au-delà des genres et au dessus de ce monde, le pianiste français Melaine Dalibert continue d’échafauder une œuvre d’un autre temps, d’un futur à construire avec une musique qui doit autant à Federico Mompou qu’à l’Acousmatique. Night Blossoms, son dernier disque en date (avec la participation de David Sylvian sur deux titres) est une pure merveille !”
Greg Bod — Benzine Mag

“La musique de Melaine Dalibert, héritière de cinquante ans d’expériences minimalistes, correspond à l’impérieux besoin du public d’aujourd’hui de cultiver un hors-temps et de se plonger au cœur du son. Elle y répond parfaitement”
Guillaume Kosmicki — Res Musica

“Comment des pièces reposant sur des constructions aussi abstraites et rigoureuses peuvent-elles susciter autant d’émotion à l’écoute ? La musique de Melaine Dalibert projette l’auditeur dans un univers où l’assommant temps quotidien n’a plus cours. Plus de mesure, plus de début ni de fin : pour qui accepte de se laisser prendre, Night Blossoms fait perdre tous les repères du commensurable”
Guillaume Kosmicki — Hémisphère Son

Clear Vinyl

Erased Tapes are immensely proud to announce the reissue of the debut album Recording a Tape the Colour of the Light by Bell Orchestre. To honour the album"s original recordings the album is also seeing its first vinyl repress since it was released in 2005. Originally formed in 1999 whilst studying at university, the first music Bell Orchestre made was live scores for contemporary dance performances. A few years later, the studio sessions for Recording A Tape.. took place simultaneously in the same studio as when Arcade Fire were recording their eponymous debut album Funeral. The two Montreal-based bands took turns to record their albums but due to the growing interest in Arcade Fire, Bell Orchestre was put on hold as band members Parry and Sarah Neufeld quickly became occupied with Arcade Fire"s busy touring schedule. "The Bell Orchestre album was almost done, but it kind of sat there. We were just sitting on this album that we were really proud of, but we didn"t have anyone to pay attention to it" Parry told Pitchfork in 2005. The album was released to critical acclaim and has since received cult status among fans. Bell Orchestre is a collaborative instrumental group based in Montreal. Its six members come from wildly divergent musical backgrounds, and the unlikely chemistry that results from their collaboration is the very thing that sustains their connection. It"s as if the group as a whole has tapped into a very particular, very distinct energy: like that of an approaching storm. In many ways, Bell Orchestre is the sum of not only its parts, but the sum of its influences and inspirations. Among those influences can be listed such diverse artists as Lee "Scratch" Perry, Arvo Pärt, Charles Mingus, and Talk Talk. But ultimately they work together to create something that none of them has quite heard before. Bell Orchestre has been known to retreat into the woods to make and write music: from a residency at the Banff Centre for the Arts, to the forests of Quebec and Vermont, and back to their hometown of Montreal. The specifics of time and place, the elemental forces at work outside, and those forces that exist inside, all come into play within Bell Orchestre"s musical process. This particular music could be made by no one else at no other time in history. The experience of listening to Bell Orchestre, whether live or recorded, is almost that of experiencing a form of synaesthesia: the result is a collage-like construction of not just sound, but visual elements as well. From a herd of elephants to that approaching storm on the horizon, from a quiet forest in the country to ice forming on a city street, from watching vapour trails disappear in the sky to watching the changing light of dusk through a window. The result then is not so much cinematic as it is evocative: Bell Orchestre have not just written the music to the film - they have created an invisible film that only comes to life in the listening

Black Vinyl

Erased Tapes are immensely proud to announce the reissue of the debut album Recording a Tape the Colour of the Light by Bell Orchestre. To honour the album"s original recordings the album is also seeing its first vinyl repress since it was released in 2005. Originally formed in 1999 whilst studying at university, the first music Bell Orchestre made was live scores for contemporary dance performances. A few years later, the studio sessions for Recording A Tape.. took place simultaneously in the same studio as when Arcade Fire were recording their eponymous debut album Funeral. The two Montreal-based bands took turns to record their albums but due to the growing interest in Arcade Fire, Bell Orchestre was put on hold as band members Parry and Sarah Neufeld quickly became occupied with Arcade Fire"s busy touring schedule. "The Bell Orchestre album was almost done, but it kind of sat there. We were just sitting on this album that we were really proud of, but we didn"t have anyone to pay attention to it" Parry told Pitchfork in 2005. The album was released to critical acclaim and has since received cult status among fans. Bell Orchestre is a collaborative instrumental group based in Montreal. Its six members come from wildly divergent musical backgrounds, and the unlikely chemistry that results from their collaboration is the very thing that sustains their connection. It"s as if the group as a whole has tapped into a very particular, very distinct energy: like that of an approaching storm. In many ways, Bell Orchestre is the sum of not only its parts, but the sum of its influences and inspirations. Among those influences can be listed such diverse artists as Lee "Scratch" Perry, Arvo Pärt, Charles Mingus, and Talk Talk. But ultimately they work together to create something that none of them has quite heard before. Bell Orchestre has been known to retreat into the woods to make and write music: from a residency at the Banff Centre for the Arts, to the forests of Quebec and Vermont, and back to their hometown of Montreal. The specifics of time and place, the elemental forces at work outside, and those forces that exist inside, all come into play within Bell Orchestre"s musical process. This particular music could be made by no one else at no other time in history. The experience of listening to Bell Orchestre, whether live or recorded, is almost that of experiencing a form of synaesthesia: the result is a collage-like construction of not just sound, but visual elements as well. From a herd of elephants to that approaching storm on the horizon, from a quiet forest in the country to ice forming on a city street, from watching vapour trails disappear in the sky to watching the changing light of dusk through a window. The result then is not so much cinematic as it is evocative: Bell Orchestre have not just written the music to the film - they have created an invisible film that only comes to life in the listening

Next on Extra Soul Perception, we're very proud to welcome a new artist to the label, Paddy Fred, with three tracks of antipodean psych soul for his 'Spells' 7".

Paddy Fred is a musician based on the south coast of Wellington, New Zealand, where he grew up. He's played guitar since he was a teen, and went on to study music performance, and toured with a number of bands throughout his twenties. When these bands dissolved in 2011, he began beat making and music production of his own, losing himself in the freedom of making music on his terms.

Inspired after hanging with Flying Lotus & the Brainfeeder crew and clubbing at Low End Theory in Los Angeles, Paddy created his first release, 'Laminate', which dropped in 2013; the same year Paddy entered fatherhood.

After emerging from the "survival zone" of the first five years of parenting, Paddy emerged a little lost, separated from the momentum of his musical career. There then followed a period of self-reflection. As he ran up and over the same coastal path repeatedly, he slowly but surely rekindled his passion for music making, and the work began again…

Paddy came to the attention of the Extra Soul Perception crew courtesy of fellow New Zealander, Mara TK (who provided the label's highly acclaimed 2021 album 'Bad Meditation'). When the guys heard the demos, they signed him on sight.

The lead track 'Spells' consists of big sludgy drums, a growling synth bass, ethereal guitars and spacey vocals, mixing the washed-out slow-mo beat construction of Toro Y Moi with the heady psychedelic soul of Tame Impala and Mildlife. On the flipside 'Found You' is a more tranquil affair, with languorous drums befitting DJ's Khruangbin rhythm section, whilst closer 'Kids' (digital only) offers a robust yet airy finish with an uptempo instrumental akin to the sound palette of late 00s Four Tet.

'Spells' is the first taste of Paddy's new material. Inspired by lost love, babies feet, social fatigue and universes held within rock-pools, this is Paddy Fred at his most true to self, and just a small sample of what's to come.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

After her stunning collaboration with Jim O’Rourke (Le Piano Englouti, BT055), Brunhild Ferrari returns to Black Truffle with Stürmische Ruhe, her first duo with Christoph Heemann. A legendary figure in underground music, Heemann has quietly produced a unique body of work since his beginnings with the absurdist cutups of H.N.A.S. in the mid-1980, including collaborations with Merzbow, Organum and Nurse With Wound, the eerie psychedelia of Mirror (with Andrew Chalk), In Camera (with Timo van Lujik) and Plastic Palace People (with Jim O’Rourke), and the precise cinema pour l’oreille constructions of his solo works. Created together in Ferrari’s Parisian studio (once shared with Luc) between 2011 and 2014, Stürmische Ruhe is a single half-hour piece that folds rain and storm recordings into a intricately woven fabric of haunted electronics, unexpected edits and disorienting processing. Banging with the jarring thump of a slamming door (an element that will reappear periodically throughout the piece as a kind of punctuation mark), it is immediately obvious that concrete sound is used here in a free, poetic way outside of the strict confines of documentary field recording. The wind captured by Ferrari’s microphone roars and whistles, accompanied by thick clusters of wavering tones whose unpredictable rises and falls in volumes are synchronised with the bumping and thudding of windows and doors. At some points the microphone sound melts into a wavering low-bit digital smear before fanning out into broad, atmospheric depths. The cinema for the ear constructed here suggests not linear narrative or documentary, but an organic flow of cross-fades, double-exposures and abrupt cuts, a free-associative dream in which wind and water take on mythical characteristics. Throughout the piece's second half, layers of synthetic floating tones and pinging upward glissandi negotiate a constantly shifting balance with wind-borne whispers and rustles, at times dropping to silence, at others rising up with elemental force. As Ferrari explains in her liner notes, Stürmische Ruhe is a meeting of ‘completely opposite sound worlds’ in which ‘almost-violence’ is joined with a ‘reconciling harmony’. Reaffirming the infinite possibilities of the musique concrète tradition while avoiding its academic tropes, Stürmische Ruhe is accompanied by tri-lingual liner notes from Brunhild Ferrari and arrives in a sleeve graced with the beautiful art informel paintings of her father, Wolfgang Meyer Tomin. Cut at 45rpm for maximum fidelity.

(Emmanuel Top, Tom Hades, Kony Donales + original remastered) Zolex heads up our next Bonzai Classics vinyl release with his 1993 cut, Time Modulator. New remixes come from Emmanuel Top, Tome Hades and Kony Donales who add their own unique twists to a techno classic.

Zolex heads up our next Bonzai Classics vinyl release with his 1993 cut, Time Modulator. New remixes come from Emmanuel Top, Tome Hades and Kony Donales who add their own unique twists to a techno classic. Back in the mid-nineties, Frank Struyf was churning out top club hits on Dance Opera, Circus, Frank’s own Zolex Records and our very own XTC and Bonzai Records imprints. Despite his busy DJ schedule Frank still found the time to produce his own sounds. Many years of producing quality records followed and he is still twiddling the knobs and spinning sets to this day.

The Original Mix graces the A1 slot, with its dark drums and rolling techno vibe hitting the spot. Moody and twisty, the groove becomes infectious and hypnotic thanks to a combination of blippy, bleepy sounds and relentless strings. The energy levels rise after the break, causing chaotic scenes on the floor, an absolute stomper. French DJ and producer Emmanuel Top takes up the A2 slot, delivering a fine remix with his instantly recognisable signature sound. Responsible for so many acid laden moments throughout his career, Emmanuel Top remains an inspiration to many. On the remix here, the tension mounts as 303 lines fade up alongside a hybrid drum construction and hypnotic FX. The acid effect takes hold, dominating the groove, the perfect set builder to whip up the crowd. Over on the flip, Belgian artist Tom Hades offers up his interpretation, turning the original into a slamming slice of techno for the modern dancefloor. Undoubtedly, Tom is responsible for some of the best techno joints released in recent years. Here, he employs his skills to great effect, using banging beats and minimalistic sounds that drive a solid, dark room techno vibe. This one is a must have, no doubt. To complete the vinyl, we have French artist Kony Donales on remix duties. Kony is the owner of Cayden Records which has churned out top techno tracks since 2011. He is known for his minimal style and he definitely knows how to work a track. The remix here brings the essence of Time Modulator into the 21st century with a strong contemporary groove. Nice pounding kicks and crispy percussions set the rhythm loose as metallic hits join raucous percussions and FX. Top-notch stuff once again.

Very limited vinyl pressing, 500 copies in a gatefold sleeve, a printed inner housing white and marbling effect vinyl with full download included. CD in a 4 panel digipack with a 4 page booklet. New Heavy Sounds is very proud to bring you Moongazer, the 2nd album by the 4 piece stoner rock powerhouse from Italy, TENEBRA. The band had already made waves on the scene with their debut album ‘Gen Nero’ before delivering ‘What We Do is Sacred’ their debut EP for New Heavy Sounds last year, 3 killer tracks that were but a taster of things to come. Moongazer takes the story a stage further with 9 slabs of crushing fuzzed up grooves, fuelled by 70’s proto metal, hard rock, punk, psych-blues and noise, loaded with great riffs and melody and topped off by gutsy soulful vocals. Musically, you could say that TENEBRA occupy similar musical terrain to bands such as Graveyard, Witchcraft, Kadaver and other bands of that ilk, but TENEBRA are very much their own beast. They have all the chops of course, but are musically less slavish, often adding a twist that keeps the songs fresh and now. There’s also very little reliance on Sabbath-isms (apart from one cheeky nod) and though occult rock is also part of the vibe, the music steers well clear of the cliches. In fact the band bring a clutch of left field influences into their melting pot as well, from June of 44 and Love Battery to the Misfits and the psych grunge of Screaming Trees. Of the 4 members, Claudio (bass), Emilio (guitar) and Mesca (drums) came from the hardcore and post-hardcore squat scene that gathered around Bologna, whereas their formidable vocalist Silvia (the youngest of the crew) is immersed in the underground rock of the '60s and' 70s. When you hear her sing you’ll know where she’s coming from as she has one helluva rock voice, laced with whiskey, smoke, grit, late nights and a whole lotta soul. Think Maggie Bell meets Betty Davis with a smattering of Gillan, and you'll be in the right ballpark. So what you get with ‘Moongazer’ is a band revelling in the spirit of 70’s rock rather than recreating it. ‘Heavy Crusher’ lulls you with its dreamy intro, but it’s not long before the riffs hit with Silvia in full effect. This pretty much sets the tone for the record, coiling proto metal riffs, executed with gusto and joie de vivre. And as with every track on this album, Silvia belts it out like she absolutely means it man. ‘Cracked Path’ continues the journey and ups the heavy fuzz a notch or 2. First heard on ‘What We Do Is Sacred’ (full length album version). ‘Black Lace’ is a brooding beast, epic and melodic, almost a ballad, with a heap of soul lurking within, courtesy of Silvia’s mighty voice. ‘Carry My Load’ keeps the brooding vibe going till the loping off kilter killer riffs kick in. This is definitely Silvia at her most Gillan-esque. ‘Winds Of Change’ does just that, dial things down to bluesy, almost psych feel, with dreamy solos and a hooky guitar break. ‘Stranded’ is a full on stoner rocker as is ‘Space Child’ with its short homage to the dark lords, there’s even a a sax solo. Never one’s to just play it straight these guys. ‘Dark And Distant Sky’ is pure proto metal, a la Bloodrock or Grand Funk, it truly rips, and once again, it’s construction veers it away from anything approaching what you’d expect. ‘Moon Maiden’ is the album’s closer, featuring Gary Lee Conner (no less) of the aforementioned grunge legends Screaming Trees, guesting on guitar. It’s a fitting and epic closer, by turns hard ‘n’ heavy, psychedelic and chock full of great ideas. MOONGAZER is without doubt an accomplished sophomore release that deserves to be heard and appreciated, purely because, though it may appear to reside in the world of stoner, it is so much more.

Remember Rainbow Bridge', the new album by Croatian Amor, is a homage to youth and the delicate metamorphosis that occurs as childhood trips into maturity. Focused on this tender flux, the songs on 'Remember Rainbow Bridge' are infused with the restless energy of adolescence and a dawning sense of mortality. From the sun-kissed title track, to the night burn and wet pavement of 'Paper Birds', monumental highs are shuffled with great lows that we perhaps feel most clearly and earnestly in those formative years. Since the earliest collages committed to tape under the name of Croatian Amor, Loke Rahbek's alias has at every step gravitated towards constant discovery and experimentation. The sound collages are still present while the unity of each song's construction now often conceals the juxtapositions and overlapping edges. Employing a medley of diffuse electronic music traditions, fantastical synthetic worlds are evoked and while 'Remember Rainbow Bridge' heavily relies on rhythmic structures to propel the compositions, Croatian Amor continues to tend a highly textured field in his own inimitable way. 'Remember Rainbow Bridge' is a celebration of the liminal space between phases of life, the chrysalis of youth. It is a record about coming to terms with our ever-changing place in the world, its title urging us to see the world with a child's eye, to never forget the miraculous at play only an arm's-length away. "This world as we see it is passing away"