Buscar:know how

Ice Cream Vinyl

Since the release of their debut studio album Do Hollywood (on 4AD) in 2016, The Lemon Twigs_the New York City rock band fronted by brothers Brian (27) and Michael D'Addario (25)_have waved the same revivalist torch as Alex Chilton and his Big Star crew, working to prove that archaic music from the `60s and `70s can still be relevant in digital world. Alongside peers like Foxygen and Drugdealer, The Lemon Twigs have explicitly documented a synchronistic blend of contemporary narrative motifs, old-school recording techniques, and flawless, consistent attitudes collaged from various crucial stages of rock 'n' roll. After a whirlwind 2023, the D'Addarios are continuing the momentum of their own evolving vision and voice, distilling a history lesson of baroque and power pop into A Dream Is All We Know (out May 3 on Captured Tracks). Garnering the top-to-bottom critical acclaim the brothers have long deserved, their 2023 LP Everything Harmony was spearheaded by an impressive string of singles, including "Corner Of My Eye" and "Any Time of Day." It was the kind of record that put all of Brian and Michael's talents on display, be it the former's multi-instrumentalist gifts or the latter's boyish, explosive pop-rock charisma and eye for engineering and vocal layering. But A Dream Is All We Know is not the acoustic, nylon string-based project that Everything Harmony was. Instead, it's a return to the form the Lemon Twigs first introduced on Do Hollywood_an electric guitar-centric, anthemic assemblage of, really, everything the band does great. These two companion records are an immediate example of a band capitalizing on their fire-in-the-belly appetite to make tunes that boast ubiquitous chemistry. A Dream Is All We Know is grandiose yet grounded; meticulous, yet wild and glowing. Made with analog precision, the album was finished in the immediate months after the band completed Everything Harmony during a vibrant, prolific period split between three studios on separate coasts. A Dream Is All We Know is a profoundly dense and charged album, rife with string arrangements and a sonic thesis statement that has quaked through phases of glam, conceptualism, baroque, and Mustang-loud, stone-cold rock `n' roll for more than half-a-century. A Dream Is All We Know sounds like it's lived a thousand lives already.

"A Dream Is All We Know" lässt die auf Nylonsaiten basierenden Arrangements von "Everything Harmony" hinter sich und kehrt zu dem Stil zurück, den die Brüder erstmals auf "Do Hollywood" vorstellten. "A Dream Is All We Know" verbindet die Theatralik und den Glam-Rock des Lennon-McCartney-Songbuchs mit zeitgenössischen Erzählungen, explosiven E-Gitarren-Riffs sowie den sonnigen Harmonien und ausgeklügelten Aufnahmetechniken der Wilson-Familie und bringt die Liebe zum Detail und die Fähigkeiten der Brüder als Multiinstrumentalisten zum Vorschein. Mit fast einem Jahrzehnt an Songwriting auf dem Buckel zeigt "A Dream Is All We Know" deutlich die Entwicklung der D'Addario-Brüder von rehäugigen Teenagern, die Musik machen wollten, die an ihre Helden erinnert, zu jungen Männern, die die Bühne mit PHOENIX, BLEACHERS, ARCTIC MONKEYS und ihrem musikalischen Helden TODD RUNDGREN teilten, von ELTON JOHN, THE ZOMBIES, GERARD WAY und IGGY POP gelobt wurden und sich zu visionären Songwritern und Arrangeuren entwickelten, deren Werk selbst eine Quelle der Inspiration für andere Künstler ist. "A Dream Is All We Know" wurde komplett mit historischem Equipment aufgenommen und von Brian und Michael selbst abgemischt und gemastert. Das Album zeigt THE LEMON TWIGS, wie sie nach Jahren der Perfektionierung ihres Handwerks mit einem neu entdeckten Sinn für Intuition spielen.

Elevating, uplifting and beautifully arranged. Jasmine Myra's sophomore album Rising builds on the success of her

breakthrough album Horizons to deliver a major statement from one of UK Jazz's rising stars. Produced by Matthew Halsall and mixed by Greg Freeman (Hania Rani, Matthew Halsall, Portico Quartet), Rising delivers a confident and vibrant follow up that joins the musical dots between Myra’s influences Kenny Wheeler, Bonobo and Shabaka Hutchings while delivering something unique, beautiful and profound.

Rising is also the sound of a composer and performer growing in stature and adding extra layers of confidence and poise to both her playing and composing. Aided and abetted by Matthew Halsall who once again lends his production skills, Rising is fuller, richer and deeper as Myra develops her uniquely uplifting sound.



Much like my first album, Rising is a reflection of a period of my life. It is a continuation from Horizons, which was all about my experience during lockdown, and entailed overcoming my struggles with mental health. Following on from that experience, I set out to continue building my self-confidence. This album has an uplifting and spiritual sound, drawing influence from artists such as Makaya McCraven, Bonobo and Shabaka Hutchings.



Rising features the same core of musicians as Myra’s debut album Horizons (Gondwana records GOND052): guitarist Ben Haskins, drummer George Hall pianist Jasper Green, harpist Alice Roberts (who both also perform with Matthew Halsall) and bassist Sam Quintana who collectively bring a deft understating of the subtle textures of Myra’s music and perform with a collective empathy and drive that really pushes the music on a radiant journey. And a string quartet add gently elevating textures to Still Waters, Knowingness, From Embers and How Tall The Mountains.

The opening line of Emily Dickinson’s short poem ‘‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers’ inspired the central image of Emily Barker’s new single ‘Feathered Thing’, written while she navigated cumulative grief.

When Barker was first introduced to producer Luke Potashnick (Gabrielle Aplin, Jack Savoretti, Katie Melua) in May 2022, she brought with her a full album’s worth of songs. But after visiting Potashnick’s storied studio, The Wool Hall and hearing his ambitious production ideas, she was inspired to write one more song.

“I also needed to process some heavy news” she comments. Barker and her husband Lukas Drinkwater had been trying to start a family. Following a couple of failed IVF cycles (and other “starts that we’d lost”), they investigated adoption and had decided to relocate to Australia to be closer to Barker’s family.

“It felt like we couldn’t work out what we wanted, but we finally reached a point where we both felt at peace with not having kids,” Barker recalls. “It had been an incredibly intense time, coinciding with a house move and the pandemic.”

And then Barker found she was pregnant. “We’d done all these things to try to make it happen, and then it happened naturally (and against all biological odds). Having previously navigated losses throughout our pregnancy journey, we now had to get our heads around what having this new person in our lives might look like - emotionally and practically.”

Soon after work began on the album, Barker had a miscarriage.

“Songwriting has always been a way of processing throughout my life.” Barker reveals how the new song came quickly as she sat at her piano at home. She shared an early version with Potashnick and remembers him politely asking, “Do you mind telling me what this is about?”

“I think I’d left it too abstract, initially,” she reflects. “It was difficult to open up about the miscarriage, but Luke was very supportive and encouraged me to dig a little deeper without necessarily being specific. I revisited the lyrics, and the result is much stronger.”

“I went to the burnt-out woods/ A tourist with some damaged goods/ Remembered how the trees withstood fires before…”

“The opening line is a metaphor for knowing that I’ll get through this,” Barker clarifies. “It’s about recovery and hope, allowing yourself both the space to grieve and permission to move on”. But Barker’s optimism is never misplaced – she knows the imprint of imagined futures and lost children are carried in hearts and minds forever:

“It’s so hard to let go, wanted to know wanted to know you …”

“I think that it's important to share and normalise these stories, which are all too common, yet not openly spoken about. People hide their pain and don’t want to burden friends and family. I think behind all this anguish, there’s a deep, often untold story.”

Now that Barker is settled back in Western Australia, she’s embracing being an auntie. “I’ve got three younger siblings over here who I’m close to, and they all have kids,” she enthuses. “I look after my brother's kids, aged two and five, one morning a week.”

Recorded - along with the entirety of the new album - at The Wool Hall, ‘Feathered Thing’ begins gently, with oscillating piano and distant drums, until the arrangement gradually transforms into an instrumental dervish of vibrant strings, bass drones and cymbal crashes. Throughout, Barker’s vocals float tantalisingly like a slipstreaming feather.

Watch the video, filmed at The Wool Hall here. The Wool Hall is a studio in Beckington, Somerset, set up by Tears for Fears in the 1980s and used by artists including The Smiths, Pretenders, Joni Mitchell and many more.

Emily Barker is an award-winning singer-songwriter, best known as the writer and performer of the theme to the hugely successful BBC crime drama ‘Wallander’ starring Kenneth Branagh.

Her last album, 2020's ‘A Dark Murmuration of Words’, was produced by Greg Freeman and recorded at StudiOwz, a converted chapel in the Welsh countryside. Lyrically probing, by turns both dark and optimistic, Barker searches for meaning through the deafening clamour of fake news and algorithmically filtered conversation, delivering a timely exploration of the grand themes of our age. It garnered widespread acclaim, with Uncut calling it “…a kind of Australian equivalent of PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake”.

Barker has released music and toured as a solo artist as well as with various bands and collaborations, most notably her long association with Frank Turner, and has written for TV and film, including composing the soundtrack for Jake Gavin’s lauded debut feature ‘Hector’ starring Peter Mullan and Keith Allen.

‘Fragile as Humans’ is scheduled for release on May 3rd 2024 through Everyone Sang/Kartel Music Group. The album will also feature earlier singles: the vast, cinematic ‘Wild to be Sharing This Moment’ and the meditative, crestfallen ‘Loneliness’.

The Cat's Miaow return to World Of Echo with Skipping Stones: The Cassette Years '92-'93, their second compilation for the imprint, and the fourth in a loosely defined series of reissues associated with the group (also including The Shapiros' Gone By Fall: The Collected Works of The Shapiros and Hydroplane's Selected Songs 1997-2003). It's a smart selection of songs by one of Australia's finest independent pop music groups, whose initial run, across the nineties, was as mysterious as it was bewitching. A generous double album featuring thirty-five songs drawn from The Cat's Miaow's history, Skipping Stones lets listeners in on a bunch more secrets. The four cassettes that Skipping Stones draws from - Little Baby Sour Puss, Pet Sounds (both 1992), From My Window, and How Did Everything Get So Fucked Up (both 1993) - were released or assisted by Toytown, a Melbourne cassette label of rare taste, savvy and intelligence. Diving into that two-year period, Skipping Stones is full of surprises, rich with unexpected and inspired detours, while reminding everyone just how clear and distinct The Cat's Miaow's music was from the very start. Looking in from the outside, they always felt like a group that knew just what they were doing, but intuitive as they are, they weren't forcing anything: these songs always sound exactly what they need to be, rough edges, playful moments and all. The Cat's Miaow may have been bedroom dreamers, but their songs were richly informed, with the sweetest of girl-pop moves sashaying into walls of tremolo-d and distorted guitar, jangling six strings tangling with melodic bass that's pure Peter Hook/Naomi Yang, while the gentle trickle of a drum machine or the earthy twitch of brushes on drum skins provided the spine for Kerrie's and Bart's lovely, unforced singing. This double LP on World Of Echo feels like the very core of the thing - some of the most heartbreakingly beautiful, effortlessly lush and deeply moving pop music you're likely to hear. RIYL: Hydroplane, The Cannanes, Magnetic Fields, Belle and Sebastian, Jesus and Mary Chain

Death Is Not The End präsentiert eine limitierte LP-Pressung ihrer Sammlung unheimlich-brütender Flamenco-Aufnahmen aus den frühen 1900er bis in die späten 1930er Jahre. Diese Überblick konzentriert sich auf den Cante Jondo-Stil ("tiefer Gesang"), der als ursprüngliche Manifestation des Flamenco-Gesangs gilt – aus dem andere Elemente wie Tanzen und Spielen hervorgingen – und erfasst und dokumentiert Titel der frühesten aufgenommenen Stars dieser Form.

Chris Whitley was an artist with his feet planted in two very different worlds. On one side was a guitarist/ songwriter who grew up with the Delta and Chicago blues of Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, with some Bob Dylan thrown in. But at the same time, he was hanging out with NYC Lower East Side avant-gardeists like Arto Lindsey and Michael Beinhorn during his early ‘80s formative years. And it is precisely that tension between tradition and experimentation that makes his music so interesting and unique among “roots rock” artists. That tension is palpable on 1995’s Din of Ecstasy, his second record; Whitley abandons the acoustic blues-rock of his Living with the Law debut in favor of an album, that at first listen, owes a lot to the early-‘90s grunge movement. But Din of Ecstasy is hardly a johnny-come-lately to that sound; those are some truly weird tunings and chords being played by Whitley. It’s almost like he’s reinventing grunge in his own fashion, soaking it in blues and seasoning it with dissonance and feedback. Add some dark, druggy lyrics to the mix and Din of Ecstasy takes its place as one of the decade’s most adventurous albums, a cult classic way overdue for a vinyl release. Limited edition “clear smoke” vinyl, nestled inside a printed inner sleeve. Don’t sleep on this one

Much-anticipated debut album from Leeds post-punk power-trio and 6Music favourites Objections. Optimistic Sizing is comprised of ten kitchen-sink dramas, ten miniature worlds to lose yourself in. The key topics are covered: performative royal mourning, ill-suited sexual relationships, coastal gentrification, motormouth bigots and - of course - snogging. Objections formed in the post-lockdown period after drummer Neil and guitarist Joe's former band (and cult favourites) Bilge Pump slowed to an amicable halt. They wanted to continue the musical dialogue they had built up over decades and turned to Claire Adams (Nape Neck, Beards) to start something new and Objections was born. The 3 members have also played in/with: Polaris, Yann Tiersen, HiM, Enablers, Felix and Damo Suzuki (among others). Objections released their debut 7" - BSA Day/Better Luck Next Time on Wrong Speed in 2023 and have recorded two Marc Riley / Gideon Coe BBC 6Music sessions. At Wrong Speed we are not fond of genres, we are here to release music we love not tell you how to file it. But Optimistic Sizing is genuinely post-punk in the literal sense of the term. Objections take the freedom and anyone-can-do-it promise of punk and run somewhere new and adventurous with it, creating a vibrant and living musical language with which to communicate their own unique world view. As a result, Optimistic Sizing is not only a classic debut album but a timeless one. "We like to think we know what we're talking about....believe us when we say, Objections are a band to watch" - Louder Than War

Afro-Cuban star Daymé Arocena has announced her new album 'Al-Kemi' which will be released on February 23 via Brownswood Recordings. It is her first album since 'Sonocardiogram' in 2019.



Dayme's new single "American Boy" accompanies her album announcement. No other song on the album embodies Arocena’s artistic liberation like “American Boy” - an exhilarating, futuristic slice of progressive pop. “I wrote it ten years ago, but thought it was too much of a pop song,” Dayme reflects. “In an indirect way, the music industry had shown me that I wasn’t welcome in that world. There isn’t a Black woman like me who enjoys the kind of success usually reserved for Rosalía or KAROL G. The image of music genres like salsa or bachata has been painfully distorted throughout the years. You are supposed to clone and fuse yourself in order to conceal your Black or indigenous side. They told me I didn’t fit in that world, but I’m going to prove them wrong.”



When Daymé decided to switch gears and record her fourth studio album in Puerto Rico with the iconic producer Eduardo Cabra (Calle 13), she never imagined that she would end up moving there.



“From the moment I stepped foot on the island, I realized that I never wanted to leave,” says the 31 year-old Cuban singer/songwriter with a hearty laugh. “At the time, I had spent three years away from Cuba, living in Canada with my husband. I called and asked him to come over to Puerto Rico, and to please bring all my stuff. It wasn’t a conscious decision on my part. It was simply love at first sight.”



Relying on instinct and intuition is how Daymé has managed her career since she burst on the international scene with 'Nueva Era,' her prodigious debut album, in 2015. Now, she has fully reinvented her sound with 'Al-Kemi,' a revolutionary – and transformative – fusion of neo soul singing, Afro-Caribbean beats and slick new millennium pop.



The album is titled 'Al-Kemi' with the Yoruba word for alchemy. "It means the cosmovision of transformation," she explains. "It is mixing all the elements to achieve an unbeatable result, full of shine and light, like gold springing from the skin."



From the cosmopolitan smoothness of lead single “Suave y Pegao” – an effortless fusion of jazz, bossa nova and urbano stylings with reggaeton star Rafa Pabön on guest vocals – to the smoldering neo-soul of “A Fuego Lento,” with Dominican singer Vicente García, Daymé’s latest album relies on sacred formats of the past but rearranges them in a conscious quest to redraw the very definition of what Latin pop is supposed to sound like.



“It was definitely a team effort,” she reflects from her new home in San Juan. “Flexibility may well be my biggest virtue. I’m always open to every possible suggestion when it comes to making things better. My piano player, Jorge Luis "Yoyi" Lagarza, and I worked on the demos with the rest of my band. Then with Eduardo Cabra’s direction, we enlisted musicians from all over the Caribbean – Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic. Everybody added their energy and coloring.”



It was Daymé’s piano player who originally suggested she contact Eduardo Cabra known for combining commercial aptitude with a refined sense of craftsmanship. Not only did Cabra accept the singer’s offer, but he also invited her to stay at his home during the four months when they recorded 'Al-Kemi' in his Puerto Rico studio.



“I had no idea that he was familiar with my music,” she enthuses. “Eduardo has been in the industry for a long time, and he comes from a world that is more global and commercial than mine. He was the ideal candidate for this project, but I initially didn’t know if he would understand the social, psychological and personal complexities of the message that I wanted to express.”



“Daymé is one of the most talented musicians that I’ve ever worked with,” says Cabra. “Working together was a joy, because she knew exactly the kind of fusion that she was going for: a cross between her Afro-Cuban roots – which clearly are strong on this album – with the more contemporary vein of analogue synths, samples and a bit of electronica. We wanted both worlds to communicate, to be both respectful and disrespectful to the ancestral colors. I feel comfortable with both, and even Calle 13 walked the two paths. This is also the album where Daymé opened up to the Caribbean at large. Her understanding of harmony and her performance skills are out of this world.”



Born in Havana in 1992, Daymé grew up immersed in Afro-Cuban folk, but also listening to cassette tapes of Sade Adu, her father’s favorite singer. She was identified as a prodigious



talent at only 8 years old and soon started studying music. After studying at the prestigious Amadeo Roldán conservatory, she became co-founder and band member of the Cuban-Canadian jazz collective Maqueque in 2017. With the collective, she launched several international tours and earned a GRAMMY nomination.



“In Cuba, the emphasis on technique is exacerbated,” Daymé explains. "At the same time, opportunities are scarce on the island. A career in music provides a potential for escape, which is why the competitiveness is off the charts.”

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

Red Vinyl

If the Chateau Marmont could sing. This would be it. Loren Kramar's voice vibrates with the shameless hum of a room after a celebrity exits Ecstatic aspiration. Doubt. Proximity. Desire. The album "Glovemaker" is about the skins we craft to be seen by the world, and Loren reminds us that we are all in drag. All exposed. No matter what gloves we slip on. "I'm a slut for all my dreams", Loren Kramar sings with Patti Smith brashness, "I'm a whore for them, I've got more of them". Loren's lyrics move like tinsel, shimmering bravely, then just as quickly, curling, fragile under the spotlight. Loren has always been obsessed with fame. Not with famous people, but with the electricity that perverts attention - the crushing desire to be truly seen. And all of Loren, and this obsession, is in this album. He grew up in the Valley, forced to hide his Barbies from his father, so the closet was a gorgeous Spanish ranch house on a gilded cul-de-sac crawling with celebrities. Naturally this gay boy wanted to be a child star so his mother secretly shuttled him to tap and jazz and figure skating lessons. "I've got hands and feet to put in the concrete", Loren croons, in "Hollywood Blvd", a song which clangs with brawny bravado. But "Gay Angels" reminds us that Loren's infatuation with stardom is inextricably linked with his queerness and his own desire to live outside of fear. To be famous is to be out. To be known. To be himself. "Glovemaker has become a kind of code for art making itself. A glove as a covering or mask that follows the contours of the life beneath it. As a song and a symbol, this is an album about studying and tracing a life - and then sharing what's there," Loren says. And his desire to share truth feels urgent. To listen to Loren is to understand there is no choice; the songs must tear through the air right now. This very second. "I see myself tearing and splitting and becoming a trampoline", he belts in "No Man," breaking our hearts right alongside his. Part poet, part theatrical diva, Loren loops together the tragedy of breathing on this planet, because like Eartha Kitt or Cat Stevens, Loren is at his core - an incredible story teller. This whole album is a shrine, a mantle atop a blazing fire of life, spread with the memorabilia of Loren; all of the pain and lust dazzling on unabashed view. This is a songwriter's album. Loren's lyrics are all his, and you feel it with every bright, Maraschino-cherry-like word that falls from his lips. "Like a lover, You scream and I shatter, I hit like a hammer" Loren sings. And we get to feel what Loren feels We live in his brain, riding his genre bending emotions, on a wave of modern pop. And the songs lift, they are anthems of belief, "Hollywood Blvd", "I'm a Slut", "Euphemism", "Gay Angels", are all odes to triumphing over the corroding powers of fear and doubt. And on this ride, Loren's voice is the guard rail, ever eager to stretch and transform, belting, talk-singing, multiplying, keeping us safe. "Glovemaker" slaps and soars. The album is an ecstatic overture to love and loneliness, to dreams and promises, to everything Los Angeles dangles. Buckle up. Loren knows how to craft space, how to move us through darkened bars, strobing arenas, beige carpeted bungalows and yellow lit highways. "How do you like LA?" Loren asks. I hope you love it.

If blue is the color of sadness, or the best color to reach authenticity, R.Y.F. – the project of the Italian singer-songwriter and musician Francesca Morello, based in Ravenna – goes even further with the new album Deep Dark Blue. Deep Dark Blue is an underwater album, maybe it is even a deep-sea album. The sound is dark and muffled, as if we were in a sort of cradle, a blue bubble, a sea cocoon in which to wrap ourself ves to regenerate and achieve peace, but whose casing also conveys energy. Born following a dazzling baptism in the mesmerizing sea of Stromboli, in Sicily, Deep Dark Blue is an album of suffering and healing which confirms R.Y.F.‘s destabilizing power. According to her: ”Sometimes I experience moments of great suffering, in the last two years caused by my wife’s health problems. I was “broken inside” and I didn’t know if I would be able to go back to the way I was before. Deep Dark Blue tells how I felt and how I would like to rebuild myself. I still talk about the freedom to love, but I also felt the need to talk about suffering, and I tried to do all this with irony, in the most joyful way possible. And it worked. That’s why this is also a healing album”. In Deep Dark Blue there are also some important guests, underlining R.Y.F.’s rise in her international career. They are Moor Mother, Skin (Skunk Anansie) and Alos (aka Stefania Pedretti, formerly OvO and Allun), united by feminism, queerness and political activism, to get precious artistic affinities stronger in these hard times of new repression that we are experiencing. Deep Dark Blue arose from software and analog instruments and was then developed with Maurizio “Icio” Baggio (The Soft Moon, Boy Harsher), who also took care of recording, production, mixing and mastering at the music studio La Distilleria in Bassano del Grappa. Matteo Vallicelli (The Soft Moon, Death Index) participated in the production of some tracks. Although it flows with compact fluidity, the album highlights R.Y.F.‘s mastery in expressing herself through different stylistic genres. There is a dark electro-punk common thread, but there are also blackness (Run Run Run), alt-metal guitars on dance house structures (Can I Can U feat. Skin), industrial doom (Deep Dark feat. Alos) and other experiments (the instrumental interludes Droplets and Sirene). The variety of sounds corresponds to a spontaneous variety of topics. The theme of suffering opens and closes the tracklist with Blue and Deep Dark feat. Alos, almost as if to represent a first contact with the water and the culmination reaching the bottom of the abyss, and is approached both with a smile on the lips in the sexy Lies and from a more authorial perspective in the heartfelt Violent Hopes and December 25th, the first songs on the album to have been written. Deep Dark Blue by R.Y.F. is an immersion from which you emerge different from your old self, some kind of magical creature in a new form, but it is first of all an electric shock from which one is violently happy to be struck.

‘Landmass’ Turtle’s first artist album since 2017’s ‘Human’. To be released on 24 March 2023, it is his third official album having also released the acclaimed ‘Who Knows’ EP in 2013.

‘Landmass’ is a beautiful body of work that flows naturally as one piece of music and is inspired by the sparse surroundings of Jon’s studio in Argyll, Scotland, an area he moved to to try and escape the noise of the city and a move that has directly impacted on his creative process.

Jon Cooper… “Since I started producing music I have never gone into a track with any preconceived ideas, I let the music develop in its own way so my direct surroundings have always played a huge part in how it sounds and the hustle of the city was something I felt I needed to get away from. This was a cathartic experience in making it - it's a real outpouring of love for the Scottish countryside and the beauty I’m lucky enough to live in and see every day!”

Jon’s musical journey is one of experimentation and passion. A regular of the electronic scene in Glasgow in the late 90's/early 2000’s, he started to experiment with DJing and music production more for his mates entertainment than with any aspiration of a career as one of the most understated electronic artists Scotland has produced.

Precursor EP to Mr Raoul K's new album, which will be released in autumn 2024. The afro house pioneer has returned to his home country Côte d'Ivoire. Raoul K: "Since I know how good and easy it is to live in my home country of Côte d'Ivoire, I drew a line in Germany and set off." So he's back in full effect with spiritual afro-tinged gems, catching the vibe and easier living there, and discovered new voices from Kenia, South Africa and India, too. "Sinkere" got mixing skills from Rancido, while Compost head honcho Michael Reinboth delivered a tempered stripped down remix of "Loni ké".

The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours was made with the black watch bandmates and producers/engineers Rob Campanella (Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Tyde, The Warlocks) and Andy Creighton (The World Record, Parson Red Heads). Ben Eshbach, formerly of The Sugarplastic, arranged the strings. Kesha Rose guests on lead vocals on the second single, Oh Do Shut Up. And the great Lindsay Murray once again lends her beautiful backing vox to a number of tracks.

the black watch songwriter/frontman John Andrew Fredrick wrote the ten songs on this, his Los Angeles-based band's latest album, entirely unselfconsciously, with no set goal in mind other than to revel in the joy of songwriting, and, eventually, the luxury of recording his music with his more-than-accomplished band. The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours, produced separately and together by Rob Campanella and Andy Creighton evinces the black watch's often stunning ability to, as Andy Gill once observed in The Independent, "find chaos in the calm, melody in the miasma."

Fredrick, who has also published four comedic novels and a book on the early films of Wes Anderson, jovially describes himself as "a recovering Anglophile--one who'll never, one hopes, fully recover." From his home studio in the Angeleno Heights district of L.A., he waxes eloquent about how being branded, as it were, as a too-ardent lover of British music, film, and literature has left him as bemused as has the tag "prolific" that is often affixed to reviews of his work.

"I just don't think it's all that interesting to note that we've made so many records. Looked at one way, it's a sort of deflection from talking about the timbre if not the quality of the individual songs. Though I know it can be intimidating for fans who've just discovered us--a sort of 'My goodness, where do I start with this band that has put out LPs since 1988?' I get it. I do. I picture someone standing at our slot at a bin at a record store becoming overwhelmed at the prospect of picking the 'wrong' title. And then walking away and not picking up anything from us!" Fredrick laughs. "What can you do indeed?"

He started his career as a songwriter as a result of an American Football injury that left him bedridden in the home he grew up in in Santa Barbara, California. The year The Beatles immortal double-album came out at Christmastime he broke his leg so badly that he had to be home-schooled for an entire year. His parents, ex-teachers themselves, refused to let him watch telly for more than an hour a day. He propped a Silvertone acoustic on top of the massive cast that screamed all the way up to his thigh from his toes, and began to write little melodies and lyrics that, doubtless, did not in the least mask his love for the Fabs, The White Album in especial.

And he read and read and read--histories of the American Revolution and Civil War, mostly, and as many Dickens novels as his mum and dad could bring him. "That year," Fredrick observes, "surely made me who I am today. Proof that intensely unfortunate-seeming events can prove most fortunate. As a sport-mad kid, it made me absolutely mental that I was exiled from the activities I loved most and the school teams I played on. What a blessing undisguised that injury was! Not that I'd like to experience anything like it ever again, mind you."

Fredrick can even recall a few of the melodies he wrote as boy ("Utterly trite, of course, completely jejune"); and in a way, The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours showcases a kind of get-back-to-where-you-once-belonged sensibility. "I didn't intend, this time, to make an album per se. I write both songs and fiction in order to find out what happens, to find out what I might want to say," he notes. "Rob often asks me what a particular song is about; and I often reply that I either don't know, or would prefer that others say. Same thing goes for when people ask me where they should start with our discography. I never know what to say. Our LP from 2011, Led Zeppelin Five (remastered in 2021 for its tenth anniversary), has been our best seller, I think--but that may be because some stoned Zepheads thought their gods had perhaps put out a record they'd missed!"

Despite being deadly serious about music-making, TBW's been known to either whimsically or perversely title their albums. Examples: Jiggery-Pokery (an allusion to John Lennon assessing George Martin's productions), After the Gold Room (a pun on the Neil Young classic plus a local eastside L.A. watering hole), Sugarplum Fairy, Sugarplum Fairy (echoing Lennon's famous count-off to A Day in the Life), Fromthing Somethat (a garbled spoonerism/lyric while doing a vocal), Brilliant Failures (the 2020 release that, along with Fromthing Somethat, was named Album of the Year by venerable indie rock magazine The Big Takeover), and the aforementioned LZ5.

For the new LP, the band recruited longtime friends and allies Ben Eshbach (the Emmy-Award-winning frontman of The Sugarplastic) and Lindsay Murray (Gretchens Wheel) to compose and arrange strings and sing heaps of lovely backing vocals, respectively.

And the result? A collection of songs that Fredrick, in his quite-but-not-quite self-deprecatory way, might call another set of brilliant failures. "Every song, every LP we do, is a failure of sorts--no matter how powerful or beautiful or pleasing-to-us it turns out," John concludes. "I have often said that my aim is to write songs as good as anything on The Beatles... and I will never achieve my goal. And thus I'll have to keep at it, keep trying. And chin-chin to that!"

And now your attention's been brought to a band (or you've heard of them or heard a track or two down the years) that has been pegged by The L.A. Weekly as "a national treasure" as well as "the most criminally-neglected indie pop group imaginable."

So here's to the prospect of that ostensible neglect becoming as much of a thing of the past as John Andrew Fredrick's year-long stint in bed.

The incendiary proto hard rock and ambitious epic journeys this album delivers are all the more uncanny and devastating when you realize Gary Del Vecchio was a mere 16 years old when the title track Buzzin was unleashed! Even more astonishing is how far he travelled over the next five years, documented in this brilliant selection of nine tracks from the classic daze of early 1970s underground rock. Ohio was a hotbed for hard rock at the time with bands like the James Gang, Glass Harp, Poobah, Left End, Damnation Of Adam Blessing… what you get here matches the style any of those bands laid down. Gary's music grabs you immediately and grows over time. Grabber and Grower… best of both worlds style! It makes sense that Gary later owned a recording studio, right out of the gate he was laser focussed on all the aspects involved in making music that stands the test of time. The guitar action is incredible, shards of sound flying free yet hitting the bullseye continuously, vocals confident with none of the macho posturing that ages poorly in much early hard rock. These tracks are all vividly recorded and meticulously mixed in a way that balances fiery performance and intelligent structure to maximum effect. The bass and drumming here are phenomenally inventive and propulsive, the several players involved across the album nail it in their support of Gary's vision. This is rock music born in the 'anything is possible' life affirming energy of the late '60s right on time with where the most enduring artists of the early '70s took it. Had he scored the major label deal he pursued with labels like Mercury or London at the time I am confident we'd be hearing his music on classic rock radio today! The music on this album is both uncompromising and accessible. In particular, the two long tracks Wasted King and Starman have all the moves needed to grab fans of Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and the likes by the throat and brain in the extended progressive epic department! RidingEasy Records sets a high bar when it comes to unleashing the best vintage hard rock you never heard… take my tip people, the ride this one takes you on is definitely an 11 on a scale of 1 to 10… Gary Del Vecchio really knows how to do it!

2024 REPRESS

To understand the significance of the word 'featuring' on Featuring Pharoah Sanders And Black Harold, consider how infrequently Sun Ra used it and the exact way it had been used. The October Revolution in Jazz, organized by Bill Dixon in the West Village in 1964, presented a vivid cross section of approaches to the new music, including a sextet led by Ra. For the October Revolution's continuation, titled Four Days in December, held at nearby Judson Hall on the last days of 1964, the Arkestra performance presented Pharoah Sanders as well as a flautist (who was and remained obscure thereafter) named Harold Murray, nicknamed Black Harold. It wasn't until long after Sanders had achieved worldwide acclaim with John Coltrane that Ra and manager Alton Abraham decided to issue the music they'd recorded at Judson Hall. After its first release in plain or handdecorated covers in 1976, Featuring Pharoah Sanders And Black Harold remained an exceptionally rare item in the El Saturn discography, known to a few lucky collectors. We're lucky to have this glimpse of what Sanders sounded like in such a different context, galvanizing the large group and in turn being inspired to make his first significant contribution on record.' —John Corbett (excerpt from the liner notes)

Joey Tempest is best known as the lead vocalist of the rock band Europe. His debut solo album A Place To Call Home was originally released in 1995 and features a guest appearance by his band member John Norum on guitar. The LP includes the singles ""Under The Influence"", ""A Place To Call Home"", ""Don't Go Changin' On Me"" and ""We Come Alive"". A Place To Call Home is available on vinyl for the first time and includes an insert with lyrics.

A Place To Call Home by Joey Tempest, released 19 April 2024, includes the following tracks: "A Place To Call Home", "Elsewhere", "Don't Go Changin' On Me", "Right To Respect" and more.

This version of A Place To Call Home comes as a 1xLP. This release comes with (a) Insert(s).

On the outskirts of Bratislava, in the pulsating shadows of a refinery's burning chimneys, on the plot of a family house, there stood a small shack. Initially, it housed trials in domestic mushroom growing. Later, after a makeshift acoustic touch-up - lining the walls with old cardboard egg cartons - it became a shelter for music. Sensitive, evocative, nostalgic, lo-fi music by a man named Cadillac Face.

Today we would probably use the term 'safe space', but back then it was (in Cadillac's words) kutica, a cubbyhole. He hid there from a world that ached. Here, Cadillac secretly smoked, sang, and composed. And tried not to go crazy from anxiety. He wrote music unlike anything during his time.

Here, he struggled. With sound (unable to adjust it to his liking), with instruments (which he couldn't bring himself to play), with the world (with which, understandably, he was at odds).

Cadillac Face was a man who didn't belong here.

He wrote and sang in English (in a post-socialist and early-capitalist Slovakia, when command of English was no matter of course); he also wrote in Slovak (blogs and diaries, which, due to a stream-of-consciousness and surrealist style, were as incomprehensible as they were immersive and intimate); gave advice to teenagers (to their quasi-banal questions on talking forums about relationships, life and adolescence, where they were often met with ridicule and mockery); he composed electronic and noise music (at a time when no one had a clue what the abbreviation DAW meant).

This Cadillac's compilation album is not aiming to compete with/replicate Noizy Days - a compilation of Cadillac's contributions to the project Noize Konspiracy. Underground compilations circulated through a local proto-social network. Borderline music without rules - open but often inaccessible. There, Cadillac contributed mostly with experimental-electronic compositions. Noizy Days was compiled by Ďuro Ďurček, one of the initiators of Noize Konspiracy. Both Ďuro and Cadillac have been dead for years.

Songs For The Trees is a selection from Cadillac's songwriting. The most intimate of his intimate recordings. Cadillac at his most fragile, brittle, and quiet. The most romantic, the most tormented, the most painful and direct of his songs I know.

Cadillac became an anthropomorphic grotesque tree. Neither broadleaf nor conifer. Or perhaps it's a candle slowly incinerating – bored, sad, playing the guitar. A tragicomedy. Sometimes it kindles what it doesn't mean to, and it can't put itself out. Or can it?

The eagerly awaited debut album from the London-based four-piece * At the forefront of the new generation of Black British guitar music with Big Joanie and Bob Vylan * Supporting Slowdive on their UK tour in February * Singles playlisted by BBC Radio 6 Music, Spotify and others Whitelands are Etienne, Jagun, Vanessa and Michael and they are ostensibly a shoegaze band ever since Etienne stumbled across Slowdive's KEXP session in his recommended videos on YouTube a few years ago. However, they come at the resurgent, Gen Z-soundtracking genre from a refreshingly different angle thanks to their mishmash of musical backgrounds. There's also the fact that their line-up is fully PoC in what is traditionally seen as a predominantly white genre. "There's an underlying narrative that it's OK for white men to be romantic, sensitive, emotional and make dreamy music and, by contrast, young Black men should be making angry music," says Vanessa. "We've all grown up with these stereotypes and therefore I think people are mystified when they see Whitelands." "I consume a lot of media," says Etienne of his wide range of influences. "Videogames, music, news, paintings, manga, animations and film are my go-to, especially anime. There is this drive to want to understand and feel the whole weight of an expression. So, the songs are based on other songs, pictures, aesthetics, 'vibes', an emotion someone else felt. Fundamentally, you are what you eat." As a result of this diet, the lyrics are stunning, dealing with everything from unbalanced relationships and vulnerability to depression, being diagnosed with ADHD and, on the new single 'Tell Me About It' (featuring vocals by Dottie from the band's Sonic Cathedral labelmates deary), trying to navigate love following that diagnosis. The album is bookended by two poetically political songs - 'Setting Sun' and 'Now Here's The Weather' - that deal with imperialism, racism and performative ignorance. "We've experienced tokenism, micro-behaviours, envy and resentment," concludes Vanessa. "So we feel we have to continually prove ourselves. We know we're making a positive impact, but I want Whitelands to really break some barriers."