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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."

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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.

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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."

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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."

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"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.

We are excited to reissue Kuedo's classic 2011 album 'Severant' on double vinyl for the first time, and with a bonus track 'Work, Live & Sleep In Collapsing Space'. The cover artwork has been redesigned by Raf Rennie (Who also designed Kuedo's recent album on Brainfeeder, Infinite Window). In terms of feeling, ‘Severant’ explores the space between the detached world of the imagination and the real-time world; that feeling of coming out of a daydream, on the edge of the drift from the day-to-day grind. Jamie says of this moment ”As reality shapes imagination and escapism affects your choices in the real world, there is a strange relational loop between the two and the space in between the two. There’s a bitter sweetness in that gap, it has a certain emotive quality, kind of in between being and non-being”. Again, musically ‘Severant’ is inspired by related themes. It sounds as if it’s in a sweet spot between the emotive, innately futurist synth soundtracks of Tangerine Dream and Vangelis, borne from a time when the very idea of futurism was more prevalent, in combination with musical ideas and inspiration from the emotionally ambivalent, materialist fantasies of ‘coke rap‘ such as The Clipse. Rhythmically the record is influenced by what Jamie calls ”the two ultra modernmusics of modern times”, footwork from Chicago, which Planet Mu has explored in depth on its recent releases, and again the drum machine grids of coke rap. Jamie says ”I wanted to capture a really futurist sentiment, kind of melancholy and grand luminescent, so I used the instrument that most evokes that for me - that sweeping Vangelis brass sound.” And on coke rap he talks about the emotional ‘half being’ of the music, the energetically charged, detached ambivalence of the MCs, and the admission that the MCs could be ”fantasising without admitting to doing so.”

South-east Turkey born DJ, sound artist and producer Banu uses music as a political tool. For her, the strong message carried through sound is a vehicle to express emotions as well as a means of fighting against oppression. Using participation, social design, ecology, feminist and queer theory to create multimedia installations with sound as a main element, Banu‘s practice is closer to contemporary art and activist spaces than the club realm.

Banu‘s debut album TransSoundScapes is an exercise in female solidarity between her as a migrant woman and her sisters from the trans community, where an artist from one marginalised group is showing support towards her trans sisters, using her platform to help them amplify their voices and building a bridge towards a mutual understanding of femininity.

Conceptually, TransSoundScapes comes in continuation of Banu‘s previous research-based work, using music as a positive tool for change while working with various marginalised communities. The album originated from the very real experience of being confronted with verbal harassment in Berlin on a daily basis, particularly aimed at her transfeminine friends and companions. As a queer woman of Turkish and Kurdish origin, Banu did not only observe the verbal aggression directed at her friends, but also understood most of the insults shouted in languages such as Arabic. Seeing how she got signifi cantly more verbal violence directed at them when in company of trans people made a lasting impression on her, so she wanted to try and use her relative privilege to amplify transfeminine voices through her music.

Coming from a very conservative family, making music has been her lifelong dream. It was the moment she had the opportunity to work with the iconic Arp 2600 synthesiser (a younger sibling to Eliane Radigue‘s infamous 2500 machine) that all her disparate interests came into place to create an empowering soundscape with the aid of analogue drum machines. TransSoundScapes has a very full, porous sound, where every element that comes into play sounds soft yet clear. Across the 7 tracks, Banu conjures pounding subterraneous bassy techno („Surgery“), slithering tentacular EBM („First Time“) and pulsating cavernous soundscapes („Harem“), where oversized dancefl oor elements are woven with poetic spoken word passages, resulting in sensusous yet political anthems. Banu artfully merges loosely related genres such as techno, electro, dub and sound poems into a sound that is at once deeply personal and extremely compelling.

All of the tracks are collaborative efforts, Banu seeing the process as an exchange of care and shared experiences, while integrating research into her writing process. The lyrics in „Transition (part 1+2)‘‘ are an adaptation of Sara Ahmed’s “Living a Feminist Life”, while „Surgery“ was born out of series of interviews with trans people, channeling the metallic sounds of a surgery room to refer to society‘s perception of transness as a medical condition. Tracks like „First Time feat. Patricia“, „Harem feat. Prince Emrah“ or „We feat. Aérea Negrot“ document her encounters with various trans women, centering their life experiences while also developing a deep dialogue through the process of making music together.

The darkest and perhaps the most emblematic track is ‚‘Bianka (In Memory Of)‘‘, dedicated to the late Bianka Shigurova, a 22-year old Georgian actress found dead in her apartment. It was her Tbilisi photographer friend George Nebriedze who told her Bianka‘s tragic story, whose death is suspected to be an assasination due to transphobia. Banu chose one of Nebriedze‘s analogue photos of Bianka as the album‘s cover art.

"They push everything right to the brink and then pull back at precisely the right moment" - Pitchfork

"'Growing Up Pains (Unni's Song) gives a tantalising glimpse of where their future could lie. Matching lucid pop elements to daring innovation, ALASKALASKA allow the song to become a portal to their own potential." - Clash

"It’s impossible to walk away without the repeated promise 'I won’t let you down' in 'Growing Up Pains' stuck in your head – and it’s a mantra we should all be following as we as a species continue to fight for our future." - Beats Per Minute

ALASKALASKA announce their superb new album, Still Life, arriving October 14th on Marathon Artists (Lava La Rue, Courtney Barnett, Pond).

'Still Life' finds writers and producers Lucinda Duarte-Holman and Fraser Rieley embrace a more free-form electronica, giving a taste of what's to come with this fantastic new record produced by Jas Shaw (of Simian Mobile Disco)–full of digital sounds, drum machine and synth melodies cunningly sat beside rich, organic, acoustic instrumentation, it's a looping tug of war between existential dread and everyday simple pleasures.

Listen to / watch the video for 'Still Life' (shot by Jacek Zmarz) here: https://youtu.be/TL7s6QJ3ANc

Four seasons of dawn chorus, panoramically framed by fruit trees and more analog synths than can comfortably fit in a cow shed-come-recording studio...the scene is set for the recording of ALASKALASKA’s second album Still Life. Ordinarily located in South East London, writers and producers Fraser Rieley and Lucinda Duarte-Holman were eager to get out of the city. Taking advantage of this rustic countryside scene, they were able to capture something uniquely their own.

Following their debut album in 2019, they resurface into a new era embracing all the things that first put the band on the map, attracting the likes of Tame Impala, Hot Chip, Porches and Nilüfer Yanya for tour support slots. For Rieley and Duarte-Holman, writing began in 2019, pre-lockdown-era, although the subsequent alone together/together alone time added a new spin on ALASKALASKA's process of experimentation and fine-tuning. The band now push their foundational ideas further and explore the freedom of playing with new sounds. Duarte-Holman explains, “...with everything going on at the time, the restrictions led us to try working in a new way. The limitations were different, but meant we were able to adventure into a more electronic soundscape that we're really looking forward to expressing live."

The ‘Still Life’ LP has been pressed on recycled black vinyl to reduce the carbon intensity of the finished product.

Following on from last year’s acclaimed Sylva Sylvarum, the epic double LP from Ora Clementi (her collaborative project with James Rushford), crys cole returns to Black Truffle with Other Meetings. Originally commissioned and released on cassette by Boomkat Editions in 2021, Other Meetings is a major addition to the body of carefully hewn solo work cole has released over the last decade, offering up two side-long suites of her radically intimate approach to sound. After many years dominated by touring and travel, cole found herself in lockdown in her Berlin apartment, working in a limited space with minimal equipment. Digging through archives of recordings taken overseas and exploring the sonic potential hidden in the objects surrounding her (including a coffee pot and a vase of dying flowers), she crafted what in her liner notes she calls ‘an internal dérive, a journey that drifted through many places without a defining compass’. Totalling over 50 minutes, the two pieces unfold at an unhurried pace, each containing four individually titled subsections. Beginning with a sequence of the highly amplified small sounds characteristic of much of cole’s work, the opening moments of ‘The time between two durations of sleep’ are underpinned by a gentle rocking motion, weaving together contact mic crunch, metallic resonance, glimpses of bird song, and isolated drum machine hits, the sonic space expanding and contracting as focus moves between elements. Briefly side-lined by a tactile but unplaceable sizzling, this complex weave of voices then returns in a kind of dubbed-out ‘version’, the percussive accents echoing around the stereo space. In one of the record’s most beautiful and unexpected moments, these sounds are joined by a sparse melodic line performed on a broken 1980s digital synth, the vaguely New Age timbres being taken on a long, tonally ambiguous wander. Cole’s immersion in memories of travel comes to the fore in the final section of the first side, titled ‘Wat Paknam’ after a royal temple in Bangkok, where snatches of voices, ringing bells and distant waves of chanting blur together with synth tones into an increasingly abstracted wave of sound. The second side, ‘Slices of cake’, opens in a similarly hallucinatory outdoor space of echoing bird song and liquified traffic before abruptly zooming in on a microscopic world of subtly processed and highly amplified objects, explored with a starkness and quiet insistence that calls to mind the fringe not-quite-concrète of outsiders like Paul A.R. Timmermans or Knud Viktor, whose obsessive interrogation of dripping water might also serve as a point of reference for the following sub-section, the aptly titled ‘magischer Abfluss’ (magic drain).

While Other Meetings develops many aspects of cole’s previous work – the hyper-magnification of small gestures, the unsettling edits and fades partly inspired by hypnagogic states, the location recordings smeared into oneiric haze – it is almost as if these pieces are somehow songs, the remnants of an evaporated music of which nothing remains except isolated hits from a synthetic drum, a handful of notes, or simply a duration of emptied atmosphere. Radically reductive yet deeply musical, Other Meetings is a major work from an artist driven by an uncompromising and idiosyncratic vision.

Presented with an inner sleeve with photos and liner notes from the composer and remastered audio.

The early ’80s were a fertile time for electronic music, as the explosion of relatively affordable synthesizers and drum machines gave creative musicians a new way to express themselves. For Danny Krivit, DJing at the Roxy and soaking in the sonics of the Paradise Garage, it meant an exciting collision of the worlds of dance music and hip hop. For our latest release, Mr. K has pulled out two of his sureshots from that era and given them a tune-up for today’s sound systems.

“Pleasure Boys” by Visage was released in 1982 and epitomized the new wave crossover sound that would be co-opted and expanded on under the Freestyle banner. While the track was conceived with the vocal taking the lead, that vocal was never heard at the Roxy, Krivit’s focus being the thunderous synth bass break that he’d extend to epic proportions using twin copies of the single. It’s this routine that he’s recreated on our featured edit, a bare bones riff that still sounds enormous on a club system.

For the flip, Krivit goes a little deeper with his edit of “Emotional Disguise” by Peter Godwin. Another cut originally released in 1982, Krivit again ditches the overwrought new wave vocal in favor of the atmospheric synth stylings of the instrumental, which he accurately describes as a standout, “played at the Garage and at the Roxy for the hip hop crowd.”

Energetic, atmospheric, and with huge sonic impact, these edits are appearing on 7-inch for the first time.

Hand Stamped, Hand numbered, Limited press, with insert.

An oddly familiar/familiarly odd entity floating about the relatively cohesive surface of contemporary electronic music, Belgium-via-Italy based duo Front De Cadeau has been knocking genres askew and blowing overused terminologies out of the water with unrelenting panache over the past decade. Championing a sound unmoored by vanishing trends and cross-pollinating approaches, F2C punch back in on Antinote with their anticipated debut album, “We Slowly Riot”, an 8-track mishmash of tunes previously released and not.

Bastardizing tried-and-tested rave tropes by slowing the tempo down to barely recognizable shapes and contours, Hugo Sanchez and Maurizio Ferrara dish out a new high in their ever expanding discography. Free-falling down the K-hole with no parachute on, “La Ketamine” burns slow but steady. A practically immersive dub filled with processed minutiae and vibrational drums out a mystic forest, it’s a helluva trippy post-industrial joint that unfolds, heady and empyreumatic to the bone. “We Slowly Rot” puts on offer a buggy script-like swing, adorned with F2C’s trademark blend of spoken word and jacuzzi-warm vibes, whereas “There is Something Wrong” steers us into further sizzling, syncopated groove territories through a fevered meshwork of sliced-and-diced vox samples, overheated machine talk and primitive percussions on a African Headcharge tip.

Draped in eerie, 8-bit-infused layers and Arabian Nights ambiences, “Slam is Slam” treats us to a spookily fun Oriental mix of hot-tempered darbukkahs and FX-soaked riffs. The outrageously sensual “Ouvre Ta Bouche” is a tactile invitation to get down in some dark alcove of sorts and more if you hit it off. A steely dub primed for post-party divagations, “Climate Change” slowly veers off into verbed-out industrial jazz as bars run by, while “Legal Illegal” cuts a path of acid-dipped dancehall from outer-space across the club. Last but not least, Jewish clarinets quietly move along waves of sedated bass on “Casa Gaza”, rounding it all off on a dreamy, cinematic note that serenely phases into a liquid-like roller over one solidly deeper-than-deep home stretch.

- The Complete 1988 Film Score by John Massari - Available For The First Time On Vinyl 180 Gram Violet and Blue Vinyl (Light In The Attic Exclusive Variant) - Exclusive Liner Notes by Composer John Massari - Exclusive Liner Notes by Killer Klowns Co-Creator Stephen Chiodo - Heavyweight 12" x 12" Art Print - Old-Style Tip-On Jackets with Matte Satin Coating // KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE have finally landed at Waxwork Records! After much anticipation, we are thrilled to present the official 1988 Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by John Massari for the very first time on vinyl! Would you believe someone if they told you a circus tent-shaped spaceship landed in your small town and was abducting your neighbors to store them in cotton candy cocoons? In this '80's cult classic, teens Mike Tobacco (Grant Cramer) and Debbie Stone (Suzanne Snyder) have to fight both the diabolical bozos and the local law enforcement's disbelief to save themselves and their community! The original score to Killer Klowns From Outer Space is kicked off by the classic 80's horror movie theme track, Killer Klowns (From Outer Space) by California punk band, The Dickies. The 'nightmare merry-go-round' continues with a smattering of menacing electronic brass sections, electric guitar, bombastic drum machine beats, & harpsichord combined with sci-fi synth elements to capture the ultra-specific origins of the antagonists. Massari's score to Klowns is a retro-synth joyride from start to finish featuring immediately recognizable cues from the beloved 80's cult-classic! Waxwork Records is thrilled to present the official Killer Klowns From Outer Space double LP, released for the first time on vinyl. Complete with 180 gram "Cotton Candy" and "Popcorn" vinyl, deluxe packaging, new artwork by Ruiz Burgos, old-style tip-on jackets with matte coating, a heavyweight 12"x12" art print, and liner notes by composer Massari and Klowns co-creator Stephen Chiodo!

On this 7”, we present two lost jazz tracks by the trombonist and Horace Tapscott-collaborator, Lester Robertson. Lester has worked with some of the greats of jazz including Gerald Wilson, Anita O'Day, Lionel Hampton and Roy Porter Sound Machine on the classic 'Jessica' album.

Lester was a member of Horace Tapscott's The Pan-Afrikan Peoples Arkestra and features on the iconic underground jazz albums 'The Call' and 'Live At I.U.C.C.'. The Arkestra was set up in 1961 in Los Angeles and over the years has included wonderful, inspirational musicians such as Adele Sebastian, Kamasi Washington, Dwight Trible, Phil Ranelin, Arthur Blythe, Jesse Sharps and Nate Morgan.

These two recordings have recently been discovered on an archived master tape that little information on it other than Lester's name and the track titles. Sadly, the other players on the tracks aren’t credited on the tape, so a line-up can’t be 100% confirmed. Still, the magic of what they laid down in the session pays testament to their artistry. First up is the lively popping track 'Akirfa' in which Lester gets space to let rip and exercise his talents. On the flip is the euphonious 'Untitled Ballad', a mellifluent lullaby for an end-of-the-day wind-down.

Lost for a while, but thankfully not forgotten, these beautiful recordings finally get their chance to shine.

Welcome to Retropolis! Known for the inimitable Can’t Stop with Coloray, an unhealthy obsession with vintage music machines, a baroque style in the use of synthesizer melodies and a forewarn-looking approach to the past, Chris Barratt’s music as Eagles & Butterflies can be as fun-loving as melancholically beautiful. For his long overdue debut on Running Back, the english man dishes out a bit of both in a healthy bowl of broth.

Retropolis is not only the direction giving title, but bold and bonny at the same time. That its working title was Italo should tell you all you need to know. Suitable for big rooms, major moments, minor miracles and sophisticated car chase scenes alike. Faster takes off in another direction. Imagine two people falling in love during a bumper car ride – heartfelt vocals included.

On the flip side E&B follows a similar state of equilibrium. Like the highs and lows and ups and downs in a John Hughes movie, it also showcases the characteristics of two synthesizer classics: the exuberant piano version of Juno Ninja (please look at the digital release for a version devoid of it) offsets the poignant and plangent vibe of CS-80. In summary: made with lots of synthesizers and for fans of keyboard music. And always keep in mind: the future sounds and looks better than you think!

3am Recordings brings you its debut album, from label boss Al Bradley. While it would be much easier to get some huge name in for this who is previously unrelated to 3am, it was never going to be like that here. Staying true to the ethos of the label, it was important that this milestone was a reection of the label and what it has always stood for. The move back to vinyl in 2015 has rmly planted the label back
in its place as one of the UK's most consistent for house music, retaining its value of working with artists who have been involved with the label over its 19-year history, or who have been rm supporters of 3am during its time. Over the 9 cuts there are a variety of vibes, 'Little Treasures' aims to cover a selection of sounds that represent Al's inuences & styles, having been buying records since the mid-80s &
playing vinyl as DJ since he got his decks in 1991. The past is important as it represents where we started, the future is equally important, as it's the area of the unknown & we have to embrace it...

Covering deep house, dub techno, broken beats, raw machine funk, beatless ambience & more, the album is one that is danceoor-aimed, but works beyond that area too. With support from the likes of Placid (We're Going Deep), Carlo Gambino (We_R_House), Lolu Menayed
(Rawtrax), Lars Behrenroth (Deeper Shades of House), Loz Goddard (Oath), James Reid (Sonet), Moodymanc (2020Vision) & many more, the album reaches right across the spectrum of electronic music.

The ‘A Day At’ concept, from Parallelle, started in 2017 when they were helping their uncle in his leather factory, manufacturing belts. The variety of melodic sounds during the manufacturing process, from small tools to big machinery, quickly became the soundtrack to their day and the inspiration behind their very first song – The Factory.

Little did they know it would lead them on a sonic expedition to explore places where unexpected sounds became the centre of their musical pieces. A carpentry, a ski station, a supermarket, an airport, or a kitchen were their creative playground. The sawing of wood, the chopping of carrots, the rustling of plants, the click of a ski-shoe and the shaking of quinoa are just some examples of sounds that inspired their creativity.

After years of gathering sounds and composing the basis of their album. They teamed up with conservatorium musicians Nicolo Ricci on Sax tenor, Alessandro Mazzieri on Base and Simone Cesarini on Guitar who helped them sculpt the final touches to the album.

A fusion of jazzy vibe with concrete sound recording and electronic elements is the foundation of their first album “A Day At”

On his fourth solo album, much as in Oh! (2020), the French composer, pianist and vocalist follows his ongoing exploration of the crossroads between poetry and songs, piano and synth, old-time verses and contemporary sounds. Inspired by the rhythms, effects and speech patterns of urban music, he also delivers, with a warm and moving voice, the texts of three poetesses from the past.
Since 2013, Ezéchiel Pailhès has been crafting a unique French synth pop. On his first three albums, he switched between songs inspired by poetry, instrumental ballads and electronica with hummed
choruses. This latest record is a collection of eleven new songs, two of which he wrote: "Opaline" and "Ni toi, ni moi" (neither you nor me). The others are adaptations of poems written in the 16th, 18th and
19th centuries by French poetesses Louise Labé (1524-1566), Marceline Desbordes-Valmore (1786- 1859) and Renée Vivien (1877-1909).
Poetesses from the past...
From classical music to songs, poetry adaptation is an old French tradition. "My universe has always embraced the musicality of this literary genre," the artist recalls. He actually started this project in 2017 with poems and sonnets by William Shakespeare, Pablo Neruda, Victor Hugo and above all Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, who can be heard again on songs such as "Dors-tu?" (Are you sleeping?),
"Élégie" or "L'attente" (The wait). A figure of romanticism, the author left her mark on the early 19th century through the quality of her texts and her formal inventions, particularly praised by Balzac, and
apparently a decisive influence on Verlaine and Baudelaire. "Marceline's poetry is very musical," says Ezéchiel admiringly. "Her use of rhythm and repetition sounds great and takes on a new perspective when set to music. In fact, she wrote some of her texts with singing in mind.”
“Ces longs secrets dont l'amour nous accuse, Viens-tu les rompre en songe à mes genoux ? Dors-tu, ma vie ! ou rêves-tu de moi ?”
“These long secrets for which love accuses us, Do you come to my knees to break them in a dream?
Are you sleeping, my life! or do you dream of me” (“Dors-tu ?”, after “Les pleurs” (the tears), 1833)
Besides her, we find the more famous, and rebellious, Renée Vivien, whose texts inspired three songs, "Regard en arrière" (Looking backwards), "Mélopée" (Melopoeia) and "La fille de la nuit" (The
night girl). Sometimes nicknamed "Sapho 1900", this figure of lesbian culture and, more broadly, of female genius, combined in her work the themes of desire, dreams, melancholy and the relationship with nature.
“Ta forme est un éclair
Ton sourire est l’instant Tu fuis, lorsque l’appel
T’implore, ô mon Désir !”
"Your shape is a spark of lightning
Your smile, the very moment
You flee, when the calling
Begs you, O my Desire!"
(After “Parle-moi, de ta voix pareille à l’eau courante” (Speak to me, with a voice like flowing waters) and “Ta forme est un éclair” (Your shape is a spark of lightning), Renée Vivien, 1901)
Lastly, with "Tant que mes yeux" (As long as my eyes), Ezéchiel was inspired by a 1555 poem by Renaissance poet Louise Labé, whose main topic explored female love, physical and spiritual desire,
and the torments and pains they generate.
" At the start of the project ", Ezéchiel continues, " I was interested in many poets, men and women, past and present, before my selection was narrowed down to these three female authors. Their works,
often written in difficult or secret conditions, express a raging romanticism, a passionate soul, fuelled by desperate and tormented love. I found it interesting, as a man coming from another world and time, to face this otherness, to trade viewpoints. Obviously, I could loudly claim that the album was the result of a concept, that it reflects today's world, and that it allows me to explore the notion of gender,
giving visibility to the work of a few women, while at the same time pairing these ancient texts with a more modern and rhythmic music, and obviously, there is some truth in that. But more than anything, I
wanted to serve the text itself, to express the emotion and connection I felt with these works.”
Today's rhythms and prosody...
Ezéchiel Pailhès combines texts from French literature with electronic music, its effects and rhythms, as well as a form of scansion that echoes rap, R&B or the current fusion between hip hop and pop,
which is part of our musical background and that of younger generations. "I wanted to cross-reference texts from the beginning of the century with this type of music. I wanted to use today’s techniques to tell the tale of different daily lives and experiences.
The album is thus marked by contemporary electronic orchestrations, in which he drops his favourite instrument, the piano, and his digital collage technique to use more extensive synth melodies, enhanced by drum machines, bringing a gentle and bright vibe to the romantic texts. Lastly, we can hear slight digital tones of Auto-Tune, which Ezéchiel uses sparingly and inventively.

Beyond its sophistication, the term "melopoeia" means a "sung declamation", a "recitative song", sometimes interpreted in a monotonous way. On this album, it could also refer to a sense of phrasing, which does not come from rap, but rather from jazz, Ezéchiel's first love. " In the past, I tried to hide my jazz culture, but it naturally came back on this new album, as can be heard, for instance, in Regard en arrière.” With its verses anchored in our literary memory, the following track "Mélopée", perfectly illustrates the album's vision. It manages to transcend eras, mixing past romanticism with a modern
prosody, fuelled by the nonchalance of hip hop and the warm chords of jazz.
“Qu’un hasard guide enfin mon désespoir tranquille
Vers l’eau d’une oasis ou les berges d’une île,
Où je puisse dormir, mon voyage accompli,
Dans la sécurité profonde de l’oubli”
"May chance guide my quiet sorrow, at last
To the water of an oasis, the shores of an island,
Where I may sleep, having traveled my way,
In the safe depths of oblivion".
(After “Sillages” (Trails), René Vivien, 1908)

DJ Steve's third EP for Klasse Wrecks delves deeper into the sonic universe of the Sheffield producer's arsenal, a slow but deliberate progression can be traced from the previous EPs. Whereas 'Secret Touch' and 'Mainline' ploughed a path made more by the lighthearted genres of UK Hardcore and Yorkshire Bleep, 'Reality' sinks lower into heady vibrations of psychedelia and heavy acid hallucinations. The producer again shows off his musical flair and control of his machine kingdom, every sound perfectly placed on the sound canvas. Classic 303 lines writhe under 101 basslines whilst 808 hihats shuffle over recognisable breakbeats, proving some things never go out of style.

THE RETALIATORS MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK is the high-octane original soundtrack from the award-winning horror-thriller THE RETALIATORS. It includes special appearances from some of the biggest names in rock music such as Five Finger Death Punch, Tommy Lee, Papa Roach, The Hu, Ice Nine Kills, Escape The Fate and more, both on screen and on the original soundtrack. The album is available on a limited collectors edition 180gm red & black splatter vinyl pressing housed in a gatefold sleeve with exclusive movie stills, a 24x36 movie poster collectable, blood spattered o-card and including a digital download. It is also available on digipak CD and cassette formats.

Drawing the night in around his private, unnerving vigil, Ellis Swan returns to Quindi Records with an album of cracked beauty and haunted balladry. The Chicago-based singer-songwriter debuted on the label last year with a collaborative project called Dead Bandit, a vividly produced instrumental set in thrall to the badlands and a laconic, languid Americana.

Under his own name, Swan records intimate, poetic songs in a stark fashion, so fragile they might disintegrate in between your fingers were you to pick them up. He draws the microphone close to pick up every whisper and drags the music through layer upon layer of tape fuzz, leaving room for atmospheric impressions which loom out of the walls like the ghosts of past misdeeds. These pieces play on the natural distortion and delirium which occurs at the farthest end of the night - the hour before dawn might hope to break the veil of darkness.

Swan's is a hauntological sound, but like the late Israeli rockabilly icon Charlie Megira his process strikes a spooked tone past revivalism and out of time or place. The only anchor which places Swan anywhere is the subtle presence of Katherine Swan providing lyrics to '3am' and lyrics and backing vocals to 'It Could Be Worse'.

The impression cast is of one man and his guitar, but there are other textures tucked into the music - the muffled murmur of a drum machine or a low frequency organ hum, some desolate piano, other treated percussive impulses which might well have been the work of incidental sprites while the four-track was rolling.

There are fuller cuts like 'Evening Sun' and the title track '3am' which play with structural dynamics and creep out of the shadows a touch, while passages of plaintive, instrumental unease such as the hypnotic, mantra-like 'Chinatown' protract the space between songs. 'Swing' lolls between moments of bottomless silence and a discernible, rickety funk, and 'Puppeteers Tears' teases out a buried drama. But primarily, it's the light touch of 'Horses Bones' and tin can tenderness of 'She's My Sweet Summer Storm' which spell out the spellbinding character of 3am; a singular creation fusing the best qualities of folk, blues and Americana with a fearlessly experimental sound palette.

In the year 2909, the first naturally-born human is found with endogenous AI code built into its DNA. As we cross into the 31st century, all living humans are controlled by a decentralized master AI known as MINDFRAME: The system has access to all of human consciousness with the ability to store and manipulate the data of every interaction and thought — even operating within your subconscious mind. It becomes impossible to know when or how you’re being controlled.

During each sleep cycle, our behaviors and memories are reformatted to align with MINDFRAMES control and order programming. Some have discovered that during these cycles, there are parts of the AI’s algorithm left exposed to extraction. Through meditative states, gifted cyber-shamans are now on a mission to reverse engineer enough of the AI to escape its grip and free us all.

FRANCOIS DILLINGER (Ben Worden) glides between the two worlds of electro and techno. His journey through the genres is dark while retaining a cerebral, dancefloor-oriented quality. This stems from influences of Industrial, Detroit’s rich history of electro, minimal techno, and even Ghettotech. In the studio, he uses primarily all external hardware and modular gear, utilizing Ableton for final arrangements and editing. His Live & DJ sets lean heavily into the generation of hypnotic loops, creating long protracted mixes between elements to form an unshakeable tension.

While he grew up an hour east of the Motor City, his musical roots were firmly planted there – taking hold over decades worth of defining moments in sound. As a fan, former promoter, and DJ he’s been a part of the Detroit scene for over 20 years, having lived there multiple different times. Currently, he also works with local Detroit label Infolines to manage branding and art direction alongside his wife, Ashely.

Prior to the MINDFRAME: CYCLES LP, he had released a track on SPEC-017’s VA release, and will feature a remix on an upcoming Specimen Records project as well. Early in 2021, his second album was released on Diffuse Reality featuring remixes from Keith Tucker/K1, Detroit’s Filthiest, and Squaric. Upcoming releases from DILLINGER include a variety of collaborative projects — Machine Men EP with Lloyd Stellar on LDI Records, an LP with Cyphon and Obzerv, and a number of VA releases with artists like RXMode (via Pareidolia Recordings), CYBEREIGN (via Science Cult), ADMN (via Infolines) and others. Look for other releases coming soon on Noise To Meet You, Roulette Rekordz, and Syntek Industries.

His previous releases have landed on Blind Allies, Natural Sciences, Dionysian Mysteries, Ukonx Recordings, Fanzine Records, and ZwaarteKracht—as well as a debut album on Narrow Gauge, ‘Chasing the Red’. Support for his music has come from the likes of Richie Hawtin, Dave Clarke, Jensen Interceptor, UMWELT, and others.

First vinyl edition of these homemade electronic tracks, recorded in a primitive bedroom studio between 1993 and 1994 by Mahk Rumbae, a British born fan of synths and drum machines. A surprising crossover, as it alternates between the soft balearic sound heat and the urban indu-electro rigour.

Limited edition picture disc in full colour printed sleeve

Covered In Stars featuring members of Luna, Spacemen 3, Slowdive, Spectrum, Add N To (X), The Vacant Lots, Spiritualized, Slipstream and more.

This is a wonderfully colourful, beautiful fun and powerfully transcendent album by Fuxa, Featuring driving drum machines, gritty fuzz bitten guitars on The Sun Is Shining and Mary, 80's neon midnight post-punk disco grooves on Shadazz and perfectly blissed out floating in space vibes (Help Me Please and Cluster Fuxa). The synths shimmer and elevate, guitars attack and sparkle and the vocals deliver dark romanticism which evoke often David Cronenberg inspired fantasies such as photographs of car crashes, crushes on perfect strangers and unknown futures. 
 - Simon Scott (Slowdive)


Fuxa returns in 2022 with a new album  'Covered In Stars'
 
Eight new songs and several years in the making, of what can best be described as a full on sonic explosion. Mixing space-rock elements, krautrock rhythms, punchy beats and swirling electronic sweeps and beeps that would make for a perfect soundtrack for any warp speed travelling cosmonauts with phasers set to fun!!
 
For the past 25 years Fuxa front man Randall Nieman has no doubt been on a cosmic journey in sound and space. from his early beginnings a part of Detroit locals Windy and Carl as a guitarist/synth player, running and releasing close to 100 releases on his own label Mind Expansion, to later joining Sonic Boom's (Spacemen 3) group Spectrum for close to a decade. Performing the songs that Spacemen taught him touring across North America and Europe as well as recording and releasing several releases with Sonic under the Spectrum moniker. 
Randall has since worked with and released numerous amounts of material with the likes of Martin Rev (Suicide), The Telescopes and Dean and Britta (Luna) to name a few.
 
It is no surprise that Randall would once again build this new album with friends that he became close to over the years musically and there's certainly no shortage of indie royalty star power on this album
 
Produced by Randall Nieman, Richard Formby and Stefan Persson.
Mastered by Simon Scott (Slowdive)
This album features guest appearances from Britta Phillips and Dean Wareham (Luna), Ann Shenton (Add N to (X)), Mark Refoy and Jonny Mattock (Spiritualized, Slipstream), Roger Brogan (Spectrum/Dean Wareham), Jared Artaud (Vacant Lots) and more! Each adding an unmistakable and timeless element that Fuxa's core members have created. 
It would be hard not to notice the sheer aesthetic glory of this release as once again Randall has chosen the amazing James Marsh (most would remember him as the phenomenal artist responsible for all the Talk Talk albums over the years. His artwork is not only featured on the jacket but on both sides of the limited edition picture disc vinyl.
Covered in stars is a celebration of 25 years of music and friendships made along the way. 

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Fuxa!