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Liberation is the latest evolution by David West, a dedicated underground dweller and traveler with his groups Rat Columns and Rank/Xerox and previously spotted in Lace Curtain and Total Control. Many familiar elements of West's songwriting creep out from the speakers this time around, albeit in a sonically more adventurous and personal manner. Swathed in analogue and FM synths, pinned down by near-funk drum machines, and with a vision expanded into the past and future. While in previous incarnations, West's alienated and fragile vocal has battled with jangling guitars and distortion, Liberation sets free his woes and ruminations into space. Taking inspiration from the heyday of Mute Records, the beginnings of electronic dance music's rudimentary sampling, broken and sound art, Liberation's debut LP is 10 songs of the road, about the nameless ghosts on the highway, accidental lovers, the alienation of the stranger in a strange land, the unbearable weight of freedom.
Beginning with a curveball, Liberation's first vocal sets out the position of the forever-cuckold, the sad lover hanging on: Looking For A Lover combines a Roland 707's loping mid-tempo with creeped-out synth lines as West intones his intentions close to the ear. Continuing in a more baroque manner, Move Me makes astounding use of string samples and space, with esteemed engineer Mikey Young's (Total Control / Eddy Current Suppression Ring) production prowess making for a distilled yet inviting loneliness. Forget is the night-drive centerpiece of the album, a 7 minute that erupts into a nihilistic sub-disco darkness. A constant theme of Liberation is the friction between West's characters: a frustrated love in victim-status paired with a menacing intent. The adorable, fragile stalker in the moonlight, illuminated by Whatever You Want, a
subjugated protagonist offering they have while the city burns. The brightest pop moment of the album has this in abundance: Cold And Blue, a classic synth pop jam to be played on repeat til the end of time, like New Order played by one man in his bedroom, with no drugs for a cushion, coming down the stairs, she looks like a perfect fear and Im a monument to your existence. But West has moments of touching sincerity that speak direct to the listener, as in album highlight Leaves Falling; a sparse string arrangement frames his vocal, "why do I keep falling for you I must just really like to be alone." Liberation is the freedom from attachments, about how sometimes they're what you want most.

Enemy is a 2013 psychological drama film directed by Denis Villeneuve and produced by M. A. Faura and Niv Fichman. The A24 film stars Jake Gyllenhaal in a dual role as two men who are physically identical, but different in personality. Enemy premiered in the Special Presentation section at the 2013 Toronto International Film Festival on 8 September. The movie earned ten nominations at the 2nd Canadian Screen Awards, winning five, including Best Director for Villeneuve, and Canadian Screen Award for Best Supporting Actress for Gadon. It was named Best Canadian Film of the Year at the Toronto Film Critics Association Awards 2014.

The score is composed by Daniel Bensi & Saunder Jurriaans who gained major acclaim for their score of the popular Netflix series Ozark. Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans have been creating music together for over twenty years. In the last 10 years, they have completed well over 100 acclaimed film and TV scores.

Enemy is available on vinyl for the first time. This is a limited edition of 500 individually numbered copies on translucent yellow coloured vinyl. The gatefold includes liner notes by director Denis Villeneuve.

For Anyone That Knows You, an album of mostly piano solos by Josiah Steinbrick, was recorded riot for smoothness or posterity but to emphasize the piano as object, the person playing it, and the moment it sounds. On three of the pieces, the saxophone of Sam Gendel hovers ok or the piano like a faint change in the light, adding resonance and gentle reinforcement rather than counterpoint. Three others are delicate renditions: "Green Glass" interprets an untitled recording by Quechuan folk musicians Leandro Apaza Roams and Benjamin Clara Quispe; *Tyne Road" abbreviates one of Malian kora master Toumani Diabatels most tender compositions: and "Lullaby" is an arrangement of a traditional Creole song, originally recorded in 1954 by the Haitian-American guitarist Frantz Casseus.

Received a 7.5 rating from Pitchfork. The debut full length from Melbourne, Australia’s Romero is a burst of hard hitting, punk-laced powerpop. Well informed by the classics and every bit as relevant-as-it-is timeless, Turn It On! is a memorable party. An album that captures the vitality of a young band hitting their stride and doing it on their own terms without a single note of indecision. Much in the way that The Undertones, Blondie, and even Big Star debuted with a sense of purpose, Romero invite us to eleven tracks of soulful powerpop gold. Sharp production across Turn It On! catapults the impressive guitar work of both Adam Johnstone and Fergus Sinclair to the front of the mix alongside Alanna Oliver’s heart-pounding energy and show-stealing vocal prowess. Anchored by the smooth rhythm pocket of Justin “Murry” Tawil and Dave Johnstone, Romero waste no time in showing their hand on the quick-paced album opener ‘Talk About It’—recalling '80s powerpop rhapsodies. The title track beckons bodies to the dancefloor with a rich Runaways-like temper that naturally explodes into a fiery guitar solo. Meanwhile ‘Halfway Out The Door’ and ’White Dress’ show off the band’s adept ballad-writing, boasting truly emotional highs, lows and soaring choruses. Those hip to the incredible debut Romero single—‘Honey’ b/w ‘Neapolitan’ (Cool Death, 2020) will be overjoyed to see these relatable anthems recast in the album’s tracklisting. Turn It On! reveals stories of personal striving, restarting, mulling-over the unsaid, resisting control, deteriorating relationships, the emotional throes of uncertainty and celebrating growth through all such experiences. The rollercoaster of life is mirrored by the sonic and lyrical turns Romero have crafted into their debut album—a hopeful tonic for whatever you’re going through, and a dose of excitement for what’s to come. Includes lyric insert and 11"x17" poster.

In a career laden with highlights and hallmarks in the annals of soul history, 'Just As I Am' is rather overlooked as one of the best soul debuts ever issued. Beautifully remastered, 'Just as I Am' is presented to a new generation of listeners who may have missed out the first time. With this remastering comes an intimacy, warmth, and immediacy to the recordings that was only hinted at with previous versions; it's almost as if Withers is in a living room singing to a small group of people, rather than making a record. Of course, the instantly recognizable anthem "Ain't No Sunshine" gets all of the acclaim it so richly deserves, but also in tracks like "Harlem", 'Grandma's Hands' and "Better Off Dead" you can hear the intensity and maturity of Bill's performances. Even when he's doing covers, Withers makes them sound as if they are his own compositions.
Give this classic record a spin, and get ready to be submersed in the Soul of one of the true masters of the genre!

lack Marble Vinyl! High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before.

Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me.

It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

This much delayed, and therefore much anticipated box set from Moondance, Dope Ammo and Kniteforce finally arrives. Containing too many epic tracks and remixes to mention, this is a truly incredible album of unstoppable music. The album has already streamed over 1/2 a million views, and the anticipation for the vinyl arrival is huge, not only because of the sheer weight of quality music on it, but because it was meant to be here in 2022, and due to the endless delays in vinyl production, has taken until now to land.

Easily one of the greatest roots reggae albums of all time, Soul Rebels resulted from the intensive partnership brokered by the group and maverick producer, Lee 'Scratch' Perry. It was the first Wailers 'concept' album, conceived as a long-player based on a rebellious theme, rather than a collection of isolated singles, and the presence of the Barrett brothers in the rhythm section pointed the way for greater glories to come. The Wailers first formed as an unruly five-piece in 1963, with Junior Braithwaite as lead singer and Beverley Kelso an early member, sometimes replaced by Cherry Green. During their long tenure at Studio One, Bob Marley gradually shifted to the lead vocal role and the robust core of Marley, Peter Tosh, and Neville Livingston, aka Bunny Wailer, soon emerged as the mainstays of the group. Perry was involved with the Wailers at Studio One, using their talents for backing vocals on some of his solo work, but the partnership that yielded Soul Rebels was in an entirely different league. The title track, Tosh's anguished "400 Years and "Corner Stone" are legendary for their intense power; "It's Alright" set the template for the later "Night Shift," "My Cup" was an individual barebones reading of James Brown's "I Guess I'll Have To Cry Cry Cry," while the playful "Try Me" and "No Water" are suggestive odes. Tosh's dejected "No Sympathy" and the spirited "Soul Almighty" are other winners and the "Cloud 9" revamp "Rebel's Hop" is another joy. All killer, no filler!

The rattle of drums, scattered along the beaten track, hypnotically guiding you to a place not yet visited; yet all too familiar. Whispers and forgotten chants in surround sound luring an inner urge to surrender, to drink from Sepehr’s Diaspora Cocktail. The 5 track EP finds dwelling on Planet Euphorique for its historical 20th release, emitting a vibration of deeper dance and intriguing electronia the label is notorious for. The first sip opens your ears to the Iranian-American’s sonic sphere, rooted in live freakouts that may or may not be fuelled by his potent audio elixr, a signature special of hedonistic heat. Intoxicated by fragments of percussive EBM, tweaked out dungeon techno and sexy electro, the liquid drips and the delicious potions are stirred and shaken for your pleasure.

Drop a needle on Psyché's debut double-sider – the debut album is out on May 19th – and you'll see visions, or rather Mediterranean visions, be they of waves of heat shimmering above dunes of sand, or of women dancing around a bonfire on a rocky plain, or of bushy cliffs overlooking emerald-green and turquoise sea. The name Psyché is of course ancient Greek for 'soul' or 'mind',signifying the band's love of psychedelic funk, but also the wide range of Mediterranean influences – from Southern Europe to the Balkan Peninsula, and from Anatolia to the Maghreb – that provide an endless source of inspiration for their hypnotic sound and minimalist style.

Psyché members Marcello Giannini (Guru, Nu Genea, Slivovitz), Andrea De Fazio (Parbleu, Nu Genea, Funkin Machine) and Paolo Petrella (Nu Genea) have been active in the Naples music scene for almost two decades, most notably during the first wave of the new Neapolitan Power movement (Slivovitz, Revenaz Quartet). Over the years they have often crossed paths and collaborated on side projects in various genres (math-rock duo Arduo and, more recently, Italo-disco duo Fratelli Malibu), before working together as the rhythm section of Nu Genea's live band. Following their first tour with Nu Genea in 2018, they started Psyché with the intent of exploring more minimalist styles and making musicwith just a few elements.

A unique combination of psychedelia, groove and improvisation, the music of Psyché goes back to the roots of our future; it evokes visions of a mythical past, blending centuries-old music traditions and mixing them with modern genres. Like a warm Mediterranean breeze, it travels across lands, seas and eras, distilling essential rhythms and cosmic pulsations.

"Cumbia Mahàre", on side A of the 7-inch, dives deep into the origins of rhythm, drawing us into the movements of an imaginary ritual dance (the term mahàre was used in Southern Italian dialects to indicate witches). Through the interplay between minimal synths and exhilarating rhythmic patterns of drums, percussion, guitar and bass, Psyché take a fresh and bold approach to contemporary afrobeat and cumbia fusion.

"Ophis", on side B, is a mesmeric blend of African, Balkan and Turkish rhythms and sounds. Ethereal vocalizations and warm, hypnotic bass lines combine with psychedelic riffs and haunting melodies on guitar to evoke ancient cultures whose spiritslithers like a snake across the dunes of a sun-scorched desert.

PURPLE VINYL


A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

In his South London flat, James Howard gestures apologetically at the mess of books, lined A4 paper and stationary at his desk. “I butcher poetry for a living,” he explains, “It isn’t a pretty job, but someone has to do it.” This being 2022, every emerging musician needs a side-hustle to keep the house warm. In the daytime, our host writes study guides to help teachers teach poetry to pupils who would rather be elsewhere. “I make sure the poems are clinically dead by the time they reach the schools.”
An explanation punctuated by a mildly contrite shrug makes you want to lean forward and remind Howard about some of the stuff other people are doing for a living. And, more to the point, aren’t doing. Which brings us to the real matter at hand. For Howard, foregrounding his own songs hasn’t always come naturally. An enthusiastic collaborator, he made two well-received albums with his previous band Blue House and played with the likes of Rozi Plain, Alabaster dePlume and his wife Dana Gavanski, as well as running his own music night with Sam Tyler in London, Incredible Society. It’s important to mention these creative hook-ups because Howard feels that, in one way or another, they all helped to give form and shape to the lilting lunar lullabies that would ultimately comprise his ravishing solo debut Peek-A-Boo. 

Long before today's 'rebellious' pop idols, singers Frank Sinatra,
Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr. plus Actor Peter Lawford and
Comedian Joey Bishop had entered showbiz legend as the
genuinely hellraisin' Rate Pack. The handle proved a gift to
journalists chronicling the life and high times of the all-male quintet
whose leading lights were, without a doubt, three of the greatest
entertainers of the 20th Century. Captured on this 3LP compilation
album are some excellent musical memories performed at their best

High Roller Records, ULTIMATE EDITION, 2nd pressing, black vinyl, ltd 250, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, lyric insert, poster, black vinyl bonus 7" in picture sleeve, restored & mastered by Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony, Cutting by SST

High Roller Records, ULTIMATE EDITION, 2nd pressing, black vinyl, ltd 250, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, lyric insert, poster, black vinyl bonus 7" in picture sleeve, restored & mastered by Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony, Cutting by SST

Time to resound the trumpet as Australian blackened sludge veterans Lo! return with another grand infernal vision, captured in capital riffs and gargantuan grooves! After the universal acclaim of the band's 2017 studio endeavour Vestigial the Australian interstate quartet show no intention of slowing down with The Gleaners_a soul-ripping hell-ride across nine visceral anthems; an affair of raw violence with a touch of sophisticated madness. Lo! herald the end of the existing order of things, executing crushing judgement upon those tyrants who put the poor to powder. On The Gleaners Lo! firmly continue in the vein of their much-lauded third album, setting an over-arching storyline with multiple characters to a symphony of sonic death and destruction. "Vestigial opened up the writing arena for Lo! in many ways," explains guitarist and main-songwriter Carl Whitbread about the predecessor of The Gleaners. "We created an album of anthems without losing the groove or viciousness of performing live, using defined characters and themes that are revisited and interwoven across the record, while also experimenting with atmospheric and cinematic samples to breathe life into the recording." Above all, this record is nothing but a firm rattling of your cage - and who could expect something else from the minds of this Australian quartet who have been churning out nothing but stellar sludgy blackened hardcore over the past twelve years? Like a Hieronymus Bosch painting, the storyline of The Gleaners has little of a focal point, the characters crawl all over the place - its chaos is complete - but somehow its impact is phenomenal. Lo! have gone and done it again, creating a terrifying vision of the infernal madness of our reality that shakes you to your core! FFO Converge, Baptists, Black Breath, Mastodon, Trap Them, LLNN Ltd red single coloured vinyl w/ poster!

When we established Balmat in 2021, neither of us could have imagined that within two years, we’d be putting out an album by one of our musical heroes: Mike Paradinas, aka µ-Ziq. The British producer has been an inspiration to label co-founders Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne since the 1990s. In fact, his album-length remix project The Auteurs Vs µ-Ziq was one of the very first pieces of electronic music that Philip bought, way back in 1994. To have the opportunity to release his music now feels like a real full-circle moment.

Paradinas, of course, needs no introduction. Under a slew of aliases, chief among them µ-Ziq, the British artist revolutionized leftfield electronic music in the 1990s—coincidentally, this year marks the 30th anniversary of his debut album, Tango N’ Vectif, for his friend and sometime collaborator Aphex Twin’s Rephlex label—and his label Planet Mu has built up a formidable catalog of visionary, forwardlooking records, mapping virtually every corner of the electronic spectrum. With 1977, he turns the clock backward in a sense, and not just with the album’s title: Rooted in classic ambient and electronic sounds, these 15 tracks evoke the anything-goes spirit of the early ’90s, before the tools and tropes had calcified into cut-and-dried styles.

There’s no shortage of familiar sounds on 1977. There are echoes of raves and chillout rooms and transmissions from the fringes of techno; there are detuned synths and glistening reverb tails and, above all, gauzy vox pads, the eerie glue that holds it all together. The title, he says, is meant to invoke a general sense of nostalgia, bookmarking a year in his boyhood when he became more selfaware. More than anything, 1977 sounds like µ-Ziq distilled: Stripped of his signature breakbeats and customary chaos, Paradinas’ first-ever strictly (well, mostly) ambient album presents the essence of his music in a whole new light.

Along the way Paradinas touches on dark-ambient drones (“Marmite”), horror-film themes (“Belt & Carpet”), jungle breaks (“Mesolithic Jungle”), and even house music (“Houzz 13”), which marks the first bona fide dance-floor moment on Balmat to date). Yet the album never—to our ears, anyway— feels expressly retro. Rather, Paradinas plucks timeless sounds out of the ether and gives them a gentle tap, spinning them into unexpected new orbits. At times, 1977 feels like an experience of extended déjà vu: When we first listened to it, we had the sense that we already knew this music. It was as though we had heard it years ago, perhaps on a battered cassette tape lent to us by a friend, and been searching for it ever since. We hope you feel the same.

Tape

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Like many debut solo albums from musicians in bands, Jared Mattson’s Peanut didn’t originally come from a need to break away. As a composer for the Mattson 2, Jared Mattson was working up a batch of new songs through the winter of 2019-2020, looking ahead to the next album he and brother Jonathan Mattson, the blitzkrieging drummer, would record. As the pandemic hit stateside, Jared holed up in his home studio and kept developing the new music. And during that process it became increasingly clear to them that this wasn’t shaping up to be the next Mattson 2 album. This was a Mattson 1 album.

Jared had been absorbing the guitar work on records by reggae stalwarts Aswad and Burning Spear, and also the Police’s Andy Summer and the ways he gives songs space. And Jared wanted a prominent bass sound, too, where the guitar itself sometimes settles into the passenger seat so that the bass can drive. Lyrically, the album taps into our rattled world, where anxiety, loss, violence, and regret are sometimes pierced by the promise of love. The time spent working on the album was a profoundly introspective time as he reflected on past relationships while living through and writing during the pandemic, he also never lost sight of this truth about himself: Life is great with music.

One of the album’s standout highlights is “Burn Down Babylon,” which is propelled by the bass’s funk-you-say groove. You don’t often encounter many pop songs with so blunt an opening line as, “I got punched in the face last night by a neo-Nazi,”—a true experience that was delivered many years ago in a bar brawl in Carlsbad, California. But to hear the music that goes along with this tale manages a vibe that is less melee and more backyard jubilee.

When “Please Come Here,” with an intro that slinks along like a Cadillac on a Sunday morning drive, kicks in, it’s typical of the album’s melodic pop flourishes, but the twist here is that the vocals are in Japanese (The Mattson 2 have toured Japan 20 times and covered many Japanese pop songs on 2018’s Vaults of Eternity: Japan). Ween’s “She Wanted to Leave” is the lone cover, but the way Jared reimagines the song makes it fits seamlessly within the album’s sonic template. The song’s inclusion was also a personal way to honor one of Jared’s best friends, who died from cancer two years ago. The two had always bonded over the song and marveled at its inherent beauty. Ultimately, Mattson’s solo debut unfolds like a string of fascinating clouds: These are not songs in a hurry; they shift around as they float by, and, most notably, they carry their unique kind of electric charge.

Award-winning Vibraphonist Lewis Wright with Matt Brewer (Double-Bass) and Marcus Gilmore (Drums) partnered together in 2019 on their 'The Color of Intention' CD album. We believed that the recordings deserved release on vinyl.

“The Colour of Intention refers to the creative process itself: that in order to express yourself honestly in music, you have to generate clear intentions developed from thoughts and emotions which then colour the work rather than explaining every aspect of it. In the moment of performance, the goal then becomes to put all these previous investigations out of mind and exist in the present. The colour of intention is describing everything except performance; the slower processes of development, reflection and refinement and how they’ll seep, often unpredictably, into everything that ends up being realised. Working with Matt (Brewer) and Marcus (Gilmore) adds the last and most engaging dimension. How they interpret the music, interact and bring their own highly developed languages to bare, creates something that’s both a reflection of my intentions and also infinitely more sophisticated than it’s possible for me to conceive of. I think in this sense, human connection is the greatest element of what it is we do as musicians.” – Lewis Wright

Grey Marbled Vinyl

The charm of exploration leads to cinematic echoes that fuse rattling break drums and synergetic nuances, creating a sphere of ancestral musical paths in which a poly-form stylistics gives a recognisable imprint to 'Foreshadow', Marco Bruno's new album that embarks on a new sonic exploration and delves into the meanders of research with an abysmal attention to detail, a significant project in the evolution of the artist and his Evighet Records label.

For this release, two veterans such as James Ruskin and Mark Broom, with their alias The Fear Ratio, set in time their experience, masterfully reinterpreting that pivotal feeling of free expression that reigns at the heart of the project.

The transcendental ambiance of the Kāthā cassette continues its amphibian metamorphosis. Adapting to its new terrestrial reality.

Cerebral elements spread through the spine of Kusuma’s double offering towards Nic Ford’s ‘Cyberd’ layering percussive realms with a delicate balance of obscurity and enlightenment. Bolstering into the raw energy of a scared rainforest at dawn.

On the flip side, Konduku stays fearless on Khun Fluff’s ‘Daw’ with his signature style of ominous drum patterns, fluttering low-ends. Goosebump-inducing textures across the grid - keeping the feline’s voice and meditative presence reverberating throughout.

Cosmic veteran, Higher Intelligence Agency, transforms Temple Rat’s “The Garden of Earthly Delights” through his trademark synthetic modulations into a spellbinding B2 dream.

Following in the footsteps of "Mind Palace" and "Lost Spirits", respectively issued in 2018 and 2021, Hidden Empire return to Stil vor Talent with their eagerly anticipated third studio full-length, "Momentum". Going the same route that came to define their sound throughout the years, Branko Novakovic and Niklas Schäfers cook a savvy mix of deep electroid flavours and prog techno magnitude which flourishes in the long-playing format. Orbiting the frontier between proper no-nonsense, floor-focussed effectiveness and a trademark exploratory take on electronics, Hidden Empire here delivers one of their most accomplished slices to date, which not only spans the largest span of their many-faceted influences, from tribal anchorage to hypermodern escapology, but breathes a truly epic wind into it.

Draped in luscious, silken envelopes and easternmost ambiences, "Dawn" gets the ball rolling on a mystique-imbued note, halfway meditation-friendly material and square-shouldered club busting wares. Moving into Afro-infused house grounds, "Modesty" finds Branko and Niklas heading for the deeper end of the spectrum, as they pull out a clinically precise blender of rattling percussions, opaque incantations, lush synth swashes and verbed-out machine talk, tailored for nightly boogie rituals in the forest. "Avalanche" opts for a more brooding, deadlier approach. Cutting its path away from prying eyes, this one finds Hidden Empire pulling the stealth weaponry to absolute hypnotic effect - perfect for serious in-between peak time business with its thick, thriller-like tension, mist-shrouded atmosphere and surgical focus. Featuring Felix Raphael on vocals, "Who We Are", is a pop-influenced chugger that perhaps best defines Hidden Empire's ambivalent style, both hi-NRG and innervated with a melancholy that infuses down to the bass and most functional elements. Geared up for big-room traction with its seesawing synths and clinical drumwork, Raphael's moving timbre does more than offer a sensible counterpoint to the track's overall sturdy backbone, it takes it to a whole other dimension completely.

"Repeat The Good" ft. Wolfson balances out a fast-ticking groove with those subtle melodic lines Hidden Empire champion to astounding vibrancy, offering a particularly satisfying glimpse into their vortical imaginarium, whereas "Last Call" has us journeying to straight out Moroder-esque territories, flush with the aptly configured palette of fuzzy space disco bass, fast-paced Italo churn and vocodized talk for good measure. All in breaks and chopped-up euphoria, "Vivid" runs the hoodoo down in muscular fashion and with impressive levels of energy throughout, all set at cranking up the heat one notch further, while "Rebel" provides us with the kind of rough-around-the-edges EBM horsepower and neon-clad synth engineering that'll get the basement in a state of alert. Encompassing all of the pair's idiosyncratic merger of styles - from pop-laced Italo to spaced-out techno wares, through jagged motorik and heavily mecched-out jacking house, "Alright" shows off Hidden Empire's wide arsenal of pyrotechnics under the most compelling of lights. A more openly jagged and quirky weapon that hatches into a full-fledged solar number around the half, "Momentum" roars up the club's highway at full throttle, proving a formidable asset when it comes to plunging dancers into a state of weird, left-of-centre euphoria.

A stroboscopic eclipse is predicted as "Dark Sun" enters the room, deploying its obscure wingspan over the ravers, not quite a bad omen as it lets more light in with every bar, its brittle piano lines and heart-wrenching vocals cutting a path into the crowd's pulsating hearts. Graceful as Hidden Empire's music can be, a moment of utter exhilarating beauty. "Savasana" wraps up the voyage with a pure slab of cyphered 4x4 seduction, as an ASMR-like voice guides us across the soul-questioning haze that blankets our pathway onto a luminous finale. A piece of elusive nature, clearly designed for the club and yet telling a tale of off-piste initiation through twelve fascinating movements, "Momentum" will undoubtedly etch on the listeners' mind as one of the German pair's most strikingly powerful emanations.

Download:
1. Hidden Empire - Dawn Interlude
2. Hidden Empire - Modesty
3. Hidden Empire - Avalanche
4. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are
5. Hidden Empire & Wolfson - Repeat the Good
6. Hidden Empire - Last Call
7. Hidden Empire - Vivid
8. Hidden Empire - Rebel
9. Hidden Empire - Alright
10. Hidden Empire - Momentum
11. Hidden Empire - Dark Sun
12. Hidden Empire - Savasana
13. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are (Instrumental)

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Emotional Rescue is delighted to debut a first. Rather than a straight reissue of an (obscure) classic or a collection of music by an artist or label, here presented is a compilation of various artists centered around a sound and movement reggae-tinged music and how it influenced and spread from the Caribbean and diaspora.

Drawn from the off kilter digging of archivist, DJ and collector Bruno (perfectliv.es), Nowhere Like Here is not a follow up, but a sideways accompaniment, to his recent and already cult like 'Perfect Motion' collection of left field pop and new wave, recently self-released with Flo Dill (NTS).

This is a special release to celebrate the label's 10th year and beyond, offering a treasure trove of lo-fi and often pop inspired reggae cuts, mixing heartfelt Lovers Rocks style paeans and quirky private press oddities, all guaranteed to 'make-a-move and tap', these are, in the main ridiculously rare or impossible to find alternative bombs, that are just as sound system rocking and massive bass line quaking showcases of the enduring legacy of this Jamaican music phenomenon.
As with much of the early 80s period, the music community was in the throes of a Do-It-Yourself cultural renaissance as small labels, where crazy limited, one off White Labels Onlys came and went. Songs like Avalanche 's 'Your Love is Such a Good Thing 'or Warp Speed's 'Take It To The Night' were part of the claiming the means of production in to their own hands, pressing up the records and self-distributing. This raw, naive exuberance can be heard in the songs themselves. This is not reggae or Lovers as known, but something more expressive. Musical, simply produced, but with intelligible and uplifting optimism that is just superlatively catchy.

While Paul Thompson's 'Can I Take You Home' and Ras Ibuna's 'Black Beauty' are more straight-ahead Lover's style cuts, there is the parallel dance pop private pressing vibrations of the two Keith Robinson songs and Majority's 'Caroline' included all part of a thread; a joining the dots that Nowhere Like Here is at its most basic, a warmth the whole album exudes.

This is not a Lovers Rock Hits of some, but a left-of-center versioning, spread across Double Pack and cut loud for DJ play, fitting the ethos of Emotional Rescue by presenting something most will not have heard before and all the better for it.

Lloyd Cole & The Commotions – Cole, Blair Cowan, Lawrence Donegan, Neil Clark and Stephen Irvine – were formed in Glasgow in 1982, where Buxton-born singer-songwriter Cole was studying Philosophy and English at the University of Glasgow -Their sound swam against the tide of shiny 80s synthesisers, offering intense, melodic, guitar-based pop, topped with droll words packed with literary references.

Given just how loved debut album Rattlesnakes was, it would have been hard for whatever followed to be received as warmly – yet Easy Pieces made a good first of it. It was to sell twice as many copies in its first two weeks as Rattlesnakes had to date, giving the group a Top 5 chart placing on its release in November 1985. Recorded with 80s super-producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley, its first two singles, the brooding, gospel influenced Brand New Friend and the forever-jaunty Lost Weekend reached the UK Top 20.

This re-issue faithfully replicates the original 1985 Polydor Records UK release with printed inner sleeve and is pressed onto high quality 180g vinyl.

Für viele Musiker ist der Schritt aus dem Kollektiv ein riskantes Manöver: Wie nämlich nehmen Band und Publikum die Entscheidung auf? Hendrik Otremba, Sänger der Gruppe Messer, stellt nun sein Soloalbum vor. Er hat es Riskantes Manöver genannt - aber nicht aus dem genannten Grund. Längst hat er sich als eigenständiger Künstler etabliert, hat als Maler, Autor und Performer stets auch zur Identität von Messer beigetragen, die gerade obendrein an einem neuen Album arbeiten - dieses Soloalbum kündet also nicht von Zwist. Wenn etwas verblüfft, dann vielleicht eher, dass Otremba nicht erneut in ein neues Medium aufbricht, sondern dorthin zurückgeht, wo alles anfing: zu den eigenen Songs, die bisher im Verborgenen lagen. Riskantes Manöver ist dabei kein Aufguss des Bekannten, aus Ennui oder Eitelkeit. Viel eher tritt der Songwriter Hendrik Otremba an die Öffentlichkeit, der sich parallel zu Messer entwickelt hat. In den vergangenen zwölf Jahren nimmt er Demos auf, experimentiert, geht intuitiv vor und findet zu einer eigenen Sprache, aus der er nun mit zwei engen Freunden ein Album ausgearbeitet hat: Multi-Instrumentalist Alan Kassab, ein Schulfreund Otrembas, und Kadavar-Schlagzeuger Christoph 'Tiger" Bartelt, schon Produzent des Messer-Debuts. Gemeinsam nähern sie sich den Demos wie einem Skript und schaffen so eine Art auditiven Autorenfilm. Im Zentrum steht eine kreative Vision, die von virtuosen Technikern und begnadeten Darstellern umgesetzt wird - neben der Kern-Crew gehören dazu Stella Sommer, Alex Zhang Hungtai (Ex-Dirty Beaches), der Otremba überhaupt erst dazu inspirierte, ein eigenes Album zu schreiben), Gregor Schwellenbach, Friedrich Paravicini, Dominik Otremba (aka Performance) - aber auch Tochter Hedi und mehr als ein Dutzend weitere Kreative zwischen Indie-Adel, Hochkultur-Bagage und Jugendfreunden. Doch nicht nur durch sein Casting-Gespür und weitere direktive Entscheidungen überzeugt Otremba, sondern vor allem mit Musik, die durch ihre Weite und einen eigensinnigen erzählerischen Ansatz gar filmisch wirkt: Als zarter Chansonier schleicht Otremba durch die Streicherschluchten von New York II, geifert als Apokalyptiker in Nektar Nektar vor Blastbeat und heulendem Saxofon, findet in der sinophilen Klavierballade Bargfeld aber auch zu Ruhe und Intimität. Brachialen Proto-Industrial und dröhnenden Goth meistert Otremba ebenso wie epischen Pop oder Großstadt-Country; hier öffnet ein Musik-Enthusiast sein vielseitiges Portfolio, in dem er als Sänger und Performer zugleich eine neue Bandbreite entwickelt. In sein Rollen-Inventar führt Otremba zudem die Figur "66 ein, ein "Zeuge des zivilisatorischen Niedergangs" und eine Art Erzählstimme, durch deren Perspektive wir auf das von Katastrophen und Verlassenheit geprägte Geschehen des Albums blicken. Otremba tritt als "66 maskiert auf, zu sehen etwa auf dem Cover der Riskantes Manöver Doppel-10-Inch. Was die Bandagen bedeuten, bleibt unklar - ein weiterer, rätselhafter Eintrag in Otrembas Privatmythologie, bestehend aus Namen, Zeichen, Bildern, die sich durch sein gesamtes Werk erstrecken. Riskantes Manöver öffnet darin nicht nur eine neue Facette, der Titel fasst zugleich das Ethos eines Arbeitens zusammen, "das nicht auf Relevanz oder Erfolg gepolt ist". Gerade, wenn dabei immer wieder Gegensätze vereint werden müssen, die an dem Menschen dahinter zerren: "Das riskante Manöver ist mit den Widersprüchen zu leben und sie im eigenen Schaffen stattfinden zu lassen. Lust und kreative Ambition als was Positives zu begreifen in einer Situation, wo das, was ich sehe, eigentlich für das Gegenteil spricht, abgründig, negativ, dämonisch ist." In diesem Sinne ist hier ein Monolith von einem Album geschaffen, der sich zugleich machtvoll und zart aufstemmt, wie es im Untertitel der Platte heißt: "gegen die Verachtung der Gegenwarth"! - Sebastian Berlich

Das erste Album in voller Länge seit fünf Jahren von den kanadischen Melodic-Metal-Helden Gatekeeper! Eine fesselnde Reise mit acht Songs, die epischen, melodischen Heavy Metal neu definiert! From Western Shores ist messerscharfen in Ausführung und Produktion. Der gefragte Arthur Rizk (Cavalera Conspiracy, Kreator, Sonja) übernahm die Mixaufgaben. Letztendlich verdoppelt sich From Western Shores auf die Elemente, die Gatekeeper zu einem internationalen Metal-Schwergewicht gemacht haben. Die epischen Teile sind epischer und die traurigen Teile - wie die Band unterstreicht - "sad as fuck". Es verstärkt die Vorstellung, dass Gatekeeper ein Schmelztiegel von Stilen ist, anders eben als diverse Protagonisten in der Melodic-Metal-Szene.

Umfangreiche Presse- und Online-PR durch Sure Shot Worx
Reviews / Features / Ratings: Deaf Forever, Rocks, Classic Rock, Eclipsed, Rolling Stone, Visions, Slam Magazine, Rock Tribune, Rock Hard, Legacy, Rock Hard, Rockway, Metal Invader, Loud and Proud u.a.

First things first - you don't need me to tell you about the significance of Australia in the history of punk. I mean, what am I, Jon Savage? Google it yourself, FFS. Instead, let's just agree that the speedy, feral racket thrown together by the likes of The Saints, Radio Birdman and The Scientists in the mid-late '70s is AT LEAST as deliriously entertaining as anything concocted by their UK/US counterparts, sowing the seeds for seemingly endless garage-inflected noisemakers in the land down under. No one likes using words like 'tradition' or 'heritage' here - the punk rock clusterbomb is far too messy for any of that business - but also emerging from Australian rock's primordial soup is the addictive sneer of Stiff Richards. Like their predecessors, the band are a gleefully wracked mess of full throttle energy and barrelling power chords, with songs like 'Kids Out On The Grass' and 'Point of You' proving at least the equal of '(I'm) Stranded' or 'Aloha Steve And Danno'. Nine tracks in less than 30 minutes, all winners and all determined to leave you flipping over couches and smashing your TV set. And let's face it, you may as well; there's nothing good on. It all builds towards frantic closer 'Fill In The Blanks', which rattles around your speakers like the UK Subs trying to play Ed Kuepper riffs at the centre of an earthquake, before grinding to a halt as a voice says, "That's the one." Does it sound self-satisfied? Hey, it's got good reason to - this is the best no-frills garage rock party since Gino & The Goons' 'Do The Get Around', and the only appropriate response is to declare yourself betrothed to Stiff Richards because you can't imagine your life without 'em. Don't believe me? Sort out your ears and get 'State Of Mind' in 'em. Rock'n'roll as it's supposed to be played. Will Fitzpatrick.

Relentless raver and emerging artist from the Rinse France roster of captivating talent, RONI launches her imprint Nehza Records with a five-track EP titled ‘Slowing’ by Bordeaux-based Neida . Marking the debut release on the label, Neida is the first producer to bring RONI’s fantasy-led vision to life.

‘Slowing’ is a cross-pollination of breaks, acid, jungle and bass which nods to the sound of the underground UK rave scene circa 1990. An era that RONI closely aligns with in terms of sound, art and the sense of liberation synonymous with 90s club culture, Neida nails this aesthetic throughout the EP. ‘Bull’ sets a powerful tone as the opening track, packed with punchy drums layered below an orchestral-like vocal before ‘DSO’ burbles through with squelchy synthwork over a 4/4 beat — a clear hint of that UK rave sound simmering under the surface. Garnering his appreciation for reggae and Rasta dialect, Neida’s rework of a vocal derived from reggae artist Don Carlos is masterfully blended into this 6-minute churner.

Over on the B-side, ‘Guess Who’ burns slowly with downtempo breaks and mesmerising chords; you can almost smell an imaginary forest as the track unravels, creating an image of tripping in nature. ‘WHT’ rumbles through with a mellow introduction before going full-whack into barreling drums and clap-heavy percussion, illustrating Neida’s ability to dip into experimental textures that nod to complex rhythm patterns rather than club-cut melodies. ‘For All The Time Sake’ closes the EP with an acid bassline and bright, crisp percussion ending the EP on a significantly vibrant note to mark the first stepping stone of RONI’s record label. ‘Slowing’ is a spiralling myriad of bright atmospheres and escapism, likely to be one of many sonic trademarks on Nehza Records.

yellow marbled vinyl

Kicking off the release in style, ASC serves up a thunderous atmospheric amen break assault with The Arcane. A calming intro with clean breaks and swirling fx, welcome eerie keys before heavy kicks thrust the track into life with crisp weighty amens snatching your attention. The undertone bass complements the break work perfectly, and the atmosphere gradually ratchets up over a subtle backdrop of effects and pads. A true aural statement.

Dreamy synth-work, lush pads and an understated bassline punctuate State Of Mind, before the apache takes centre stage amidst mournful melodies and echoed snares, setting an unforgettably melancholic tone. A subtle but bliss love letter to yesteryear.

An impeccable, ever-building composition up next, as stabbing breaks and synths, introduce Force Majeure. A moody bassline sets the tone before 'whooshing' soundscapes flood the senses. Myriads of elements are frequently added into the mix, as the atmosphere envelopes relentlessly throughout, resulting in a production masterclass.

Closing the EP is the cleverly titled Threeform. A chilled-out treat dialling back the intensity with a luscious calming vibe over freestyle 3/4 time signature jazz breaks. Infused with relaxing brass samples and a laidback approach, ASC provides yet another example of his production skills.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Dear Friends, it's 2023 and the future of Leftfield Bass, Trap, and Hybrid Grime is here... RATIONAL SOUL's debut EP, "SELF TITLED", is going to define a new era on the dance floor, reimagining 140 beats that typically are stereotyped into narrow catagories. "SELF TITLED" will become the worldwide definition of a style never heard before, sought after and inevitably copycatted by those inspired.

With no surprise, 2023 is set off to a paramount start for the German SATURATE! label, with an EP that “is the future of Leftfield Bass, Trap, and Hybrid Grime” and “it’s going to define a new era on the dance floor, reimagining 140 beats that typically are stereotyped into narrow categories.” The mastermind behind such a project, called SELF TITLED, is RATIONAL SOUL a Virginia-based, veteran electronic music producer. The EP is coming out in full on January 13, digitally and on vinyl, and it features six originals and four remixes. What sounds like a disorienting emptiness at the beginning, makes perfect sense when read as part of the overall narrative of the composition. “One moment you’re living happy-go-lucky, almost like it’s the script of a Disney movie, the next moment you’re questioning why you exist- how is it you’ve become a slave to the 9 to 5? Phone by your side as digital anti-anxiety medication, entertaining yourself with something nostalgic to remind yourself of better times…war against yourself, to reset your identity.” The fight against this subconscious condition was RATIONAL SOUL’s starting point while writing SELF TITLED. The artist’s attempt to light a lighter to ignite a spark in our consciousness and thus reveal the void in which we are immersed. “Wake up” he seems to want to tell us. Don’t be a pawn, be a player of your life. Let’s riot against this status quo and, quoting RATIONAL SOUL himself, “Let’s be gangsta and fuck shit up because we are mad at why our world is falling apart: twerk on a cop car with a fine cigar in your mouth type beat.” He then concludes by spilling one, big truth, “what better genre of music could describe these feelings than bass music?” How could we not agree?

Der Bruch kam 2019 mit dem Album Putzlicht, mit dem sich Frevert nach fünf Jahren Pause neu erfand, das Korsett des Liedermachers abstreifte. Plötzlich war alles größer und druckvoller, als hätten The War On Drugs seine Schreibklause gestürmt. Pseudopoesie geht noch weiter – auch dank des neuen Produzenten Tim Tautorat (Faber, Provinz, Tristan Brusch). Freverts Lieder feuern nicht zum Durchhalten an, spenden keinen Trost, geben keinen Rat. Sie legen sanft den Finger auf die Wunde, da wo Träume verkümmern und Herzen verhärten, schieben dich sachte zur Tür und lassen dich da stehen mit dem Schlüssel in der Hand. Das ist große, zuweilen fast schmerzhaft schöne Popmusik, die das Leben und die Menschen ernst nimmt, aus Alltäglichkeiten das Drama unserer Existenz schält und neuerdings immer einen Ausweg bereithält: den radikalen Neuanfang, die Flucht in ein neues Leben, so als Idee. Aufgenommen mit der Live-Besetzung von Putzlicht ist es das erste Mal, dass seine Band zwischen zwei Alben komplett zusammenbleibt. Niels Frevert scheint angekommen zu sein: zwischen den Stühlen, auf der äußeren Umlaufbahn oder einfach nur auf dem Weg zum ewigen Weiter.

'Unconscious Collective' is the first album by PS5 - the new ensemble led by Pietro Santangelo (Nu Guinea, Slivovitz, Fitness Forever) - and it will be out for Hyperjazz Records on 21th May 2021.

It's a musical experiment where layered memories and hidden feelings resonate as if they arise directly from the most recondite part of the unconscious and produce a suspension of the stream of consciousness. With the aim to create a state of trance and override the human reason, this is an imaginary round trip across the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, ideally connecting Naples with North Africa and Latin America.

The arrangements wrote by Santangelo are based on great freedom of improvisation: while the melodic textures of the two saxophones didn't give any clear references, the other musicians followed the rhythmic pulse and its unpredictable ways. The music moves naturally along an imaginary line highlighting the ancestral connection between Jamaica and Ethiopia or between Nigeria and Cuba. In the background, Naples is a synthesis of all the sonic ingredients, mixed and cooked in its own mystical and spicy belly.

Besides Santangelo himself on the tenor and soprano saxophones, the collective is made up of: Paolo Bianconcini, a brilliant Neapolitan percussionist with a very deep Afro-Cuban background; Giuseppe Giroffi, young and talented alto and baritone saxophonist; the bassist Vincenzo Lamagna and the drummer Salvatore Rainone, both loyal members of the former Santangelo's trio.

Recorded live at the Auditorium Novecento in Naples, the legendary studio of Phonotype Records, 'Unconscious Collective' is mixed in analog format by Fabrizio Piccolo, and mastered by Davide Barbarulo at his 20Hz20KHz Studio.

Pietro Santangelo

Pietro was born, lives and plays in Naples. As a saxophonist and composer, he has released five albums with Slivovitz and one with his PS3 trio (Clinamen, Emme records 2017). Graduated in Digital Sound Processing at the Faculty of Physics of Federico II University, he is involved and engaged in the Italian scene of radical improvisation (Franco Ferguson, Elio Martusciello and Officina Arti Soniche, Collettivo NISE).

Multi-instrumentalist since forever, he has collaborated with Nu Guinea, Enzo Avitabile, Fitness Forever, Marzouk Mejri, Dennis Bovell and many others.

He's also author of soundtracks and electronic musician. He appreciates analog photography, loves walking outdoors. He hates biographical notes.

Creating an introverted version of restrained electronic music Berlin-based artist Constantijn Lange releases his second album 'Liquide' on Heimlich Musik. The album is based on sketches created in isolation during the second pandemic year. The compositions are characterized by self-reflection and an attempt to translate the abstract experience of listening to oneself into a concrete form. The sound of personal isolation, the necessary withdrawal from the world and the restriction of all social contacts is, therefore, less club oriented and focused on functionality than an expressive concept of ideas, rather oriented on Trip Hop, Breakbeat, Ambient and Jazz. The collective rediscovery of shared experience results in arrangements of melancholic but optimistic melodies recorded with vintage synthesizers, supported by complex drum patterns and diverse percussions that create a signature sound as a new liquid amalgam.


Constantijn Lange is an electronic music composer originally from Ostfriesland now based in Berlin. Besides several releases on Laut & Luise since the early days, his productions appear on labels like Get Physical, Traum Schallplatten, Sinnbus, Platon Records, Egoplanet
and many more.
His passion for thick layered synth melodies, jazzy and kraut – like vibes, atmosphere recordings, deep basslines and selfmade percussion designs give his music a recognizable vibe which can be heard on nearly every production he was involved in so far. He spends a lot of time in his studio in Berlin, working on new music, remixing other artists and also engineering for other sound projects in the art scene. On top of that, he performs as a liveact in clubs and on festivals all over the planet where his music can be described as very emotional and personal. Repeatedly this amazed people in countries like Germany, Russia, Poland, Switzerland, South Africa, Austria, Belgium, Mexico and
many more.
Constantijn’s ambition as an artist is to constantly evolve his productions and create music
which carries emotions and energies into the clubs, to festivals and living rooms alike.

Back in print for the first time since its initial release during lockdown in 2020!
The music of Current Joys has captured the imagination of millions through headphones and laptop speakers across the world. Rattigan's deeply emotive and commanding songwriting feels built for solitary walks or contemplative nights in one's bedroom, and that is why a Current Joys live performance is a whole different experience altogether. On Live At Kilby Court, the band rips through a stacked setlist of fan-favorites transforming these bedroom ballads into adrenaline-pumping anthems, creating an overwhelming feeling of togetherness.

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows.

Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope).

More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate.

Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.

The Schnitzelbeat goes on ..... und wir finden uns am Übergang zweier Jahrzehnte wieder. Woodstock hat gerade das offizielle Ende des Summer Of Love besiegelt, die Beatles befinden sich im Stadium des Zerfalls und The Stooges läuten mit unbarmherzigem Lärm ein neues Zeitalter ein. Zurück in Österreich ... die Stadt Wien dämmert weiterhin selig im bornierten Mief der Nachkriegszeit. Gelegentlich weht der Wind den Klang einer Ziehharmonika und eines Jodlers vom Land in Richtung Stephansdom. Die eingeweihten Hörer der Schnitzelbeat-Serie ahnen es allerdings bereits: da war noch etwas Anderes, etwas Wildes, Ungutes, ein dröhnender Faustschlag in die hornbebrillten Gesichter der Spießbürger. Doch wer hätte gedacht, dass die gelungenste Annäherung an den Proto-Punk der Blue Cheer oder MC5 ausgerechnet auf dem Volksmusiklabel Alpenton erscheint? (Albatross, "I am dead"). Da fährt schon ein Aufschrei des Entsetzens aus der Lederhose. Und ein Lächeln puren Glücks in die Gesichter aufgeklärter Fans obskurer Rockmusik. Auch The Seals erweisen sich 1969 als würdige Kämpfer im Krieg der Generationen: "You know nothing about the new generation / because you live in the U-Bahn-Station" stellen die Psychedelic-Punks aus Wien interessanterweise in ihrer Nummer "Stop this War" fest. Und auch sonst ist der Krieg ein geläufiges Thema: der 2. Weltkrieg (The Cop Stigh, "War History"); der Vietnamkrieg (Maybe Hair, "War"); der Krieg der Geschlechter (Young Society, "It's War"). Doch was wäre die Zeit der Hippies und Kommunarden ohne freie Liebe, Blumenarrangements und von allerlei Substanzen unterstützte Ausnahmezustände? "Nicht auf die Blumen in dem Haar, auf euer Herz kommt es an / denn Liebe nur allein alles ändern kann" singt die Casting-Boyband The Wallflowers, aufs trefflichste begleitet von einem Kinderchor, der leider nicht immer ganz textsicher ist. Die Aussage an sich würden aber sicher auch The V-Rangers unterschreiben ("Make Love"). Oder Hannes, Erich, Peter und Arno von der Salzburger Beatband Les Marquis, die einen Westcoast-Liebestraum an den Stränden des Salzkammerguts lebendig werden lassen ("Sand on the Shore"). Zur Halbzeit von Schnitzelbeat Vol. 3 wird ein unvergesslicher Höhepunkt gereicht. 1973 veröffentlicht Rocky F. Holicke die ultimative psychedelische Hymne aus heimischer Produktion: "Ready for Take Off" ist ein unbeschreibliches Monument eines Songs, eine wahrhaft überirdische Erfahrung musikalischer Transzendenz. Wenn es schon über die Wolken geht, dann bitte so, Herr Reinhard Mey. Und natürlich auf Holickes eigenem Label, Aero-Sound. Wo sonst? Während Hide & Seek auf den Spuren von Cream wandeln und ebenfalls von jeder Flugangst befreit durch den Orbit segeln ("I can fly"), blasen aus den Triebwerken von Karl Ratzers Gitarre längst sengend heiße "White Flames". Der legendäre Musiker und Frontmann der Charles Ryders Corporation ist nicht nur einer der besten Jazzgitarristen die Österreich je hatte - er nimmt es auch mit James Marshall Hendrix auf, wenn alle Effektpedale bis zum Bühnenboden durchgedrückt sind. Etwa zur selben Zeit findet sich eine oberösterreichische Ministrantenband - heimlich, nächtens - am Wochenende im Musikzimmer einer Mühlviertler Volksschule ein. Und nimmt dort eine brandgefährliche Granate hochexplosiven, psychedelischen Garagenpunks auf. Mit mehr Fuzz, Wah-Wah, Echo und Farfisa-Orgel als selbst der Leibhaftige persönlich erlaubt hat (The Hush, "Giny"). Und dies ist nicht die einzige weithin unbekannte Super-Rarität, die der Archivar, Subkulturforscher und Rare-Track-DJ Al Bird Sputnik und sein Team von den Trash Rock Archives zusammengetragen haben: die verschollene erste Single von Novaks Kapelle erscheint hier erstmals in einer komplett restaurierten Version, ohne Nadelhüpfen und mit relativ wenigen lästigen Nebengeräuschen ("Garbage Man"). Von den lediglich 10 angefertigten Exemplaren der einzigen Platte der Austrian Brothers ("Brother") konnte die einzige Kopie ohne Pressfehler aufgetrieben werden. Und um endlich der 7" von The Cop Stigh habhaft zu werden, musste sogar jemand sein letztes Hemd verkaufen und die Hose bis zu den Knöcheln runterlassen. Aber "All right", um es mit den Worten der steirischen Acid-Rocker Generation 2000 zu sagen: es hat sich ausgezahlt. Schnitzelbeat Vol. 3 fügt der vergessenen Frühgeschichte der österreichischen Rockmusik wieder zahlreiche faszinierende Kapitel hinzu. Begeben Sie sich mit Al Bird Sputnik und den Labels Konkord und Digatone auf eine weitere Reise in die Tiefen wohlsortierter Plattenkisten und pilgern Sie vor einem Himmel voller Schwedenbomben und Mannerschnitten über Gebirge verzerrter Gitarren in die entlegensten Regionen der österreichischen Popkultur. NOVAK

The Well & The Gentle, two of the major works of Pauline Oliveros, are presented here in a first time reissue on double vinyl in a gatefold sleeve with extensive liner notes.

If Oliveros had followed a more conventional path she may have, all social obstacles aside, been considered among the major composers of her time. However, Oliveros approached composition in a more egalitarian manner. She wrote music for musicians to interact with or, in the composers words, she wished to create "an inclusive and interdependent and unfolding world of relationships."

Oliveros' propensity towards inclusion is part of what makes this work so remarkably distinctive. The Well & The Gentle is carefully crafted, allowing performers to participate in the creation of the work. Players are asked to collaborate, focus, react and make imaginative choices. Only then can the performers "pass through stages of awakening to the possibilities inherent in making music, working together, leading to the essence of what can shape musical impulses and individual freedom simultaneously."

Unlike most major composers of the era, Oliveros' work focuses on collaboration and improvisation. For Oliveros, the processes involved in making music are as fundamental as the music itself. Oliveros creates, as Arthur Sabatini put it so eloquently in the liner notes, "A world in which sound and the practices entailed in making music merge; become, at once, source and atmosphere, energy and essence, presence and dynamic."

Pauline Oliveros was an electronic music pioneer, accordionist, composer and educator who resided in Kingston, New York. Her instrument was tuned in Just Intonation and she often included it in her meditative improvisational music. Her music is not meditative in the sense that it is intended for listening to while meditating, rather each piece is a form of meditation, such as her aptly titled Sonic Meditations.

A central figure in post-war electronic art music, Oliveros is one of the original members of the San Francisco Tape Music Center (along with Morton Subotnick, Ramon Sender, Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Anthony Martin), which was the resource on the U.S. West coast for electronic music during the 1960s. The Center later moved to Mills College, where she was its first director, and is now called the Center for Contemporary Music. Oliveros often improvised with the Expanded Instrument System, an electronic signal processing system she designed, in her performances and recordings.