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The latest from Mr. K and Most Excellent Unlimited pairs lowdown and stomping disco from an unlikely source with a funked-out floorfiller from some very familiar voices.

Minnie Riperton’s 1977 single “Stick Together” was an outlier in her catalog of smooth modern soul, an intentional nod in the direction of the prevailing disco sound. Co-written with Stevie Wonder, “Stick Together” in its original single release was divided into two parts, the first a fairly conventional uptempo cut with all the catchy qualities you’d expect from Stevie and the husband and wife team of Richard Rudolph and Minnie. It was the second half of the song that caught the ears of DJs who played for funkier dancefloors, however. Freddie Perren, a former member of Motown’s legendary Corporation collective of songwriters and producers, and a man then red-hot off his success with Tavares’ “Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel” and the Sylvers’ “Boogie Fever,” was on production duties, and the song clearly benefits from his disco-friendly touch. In Mr. K’s epic edit we are treated to a lengthy exploration of the second part of “Stick Together,” featuring keyboardist Sonny Burke (veteran of Marvin Gaye’s band and fresh from playing on Candi Staton’s disco smash “Young Hearts Run Free”) working out an irresistible Jingo-esque piano part, Riperton’s sensual ad-libs, and, as if that wasn’t enough, a cameo appearance by Pam Grier on finger snaps! Krivit’s 8-minute-plus edit passes way too quickly to get enough of the hypnotic groove — rewinds are called for!

Our flip side, “Body Language,” originated as an album cut on the Jackson Five’s last album of original material for Motown, Moving Violation, recorded before Jermaine left to go solo and the remaining brothers joined Epic Records in a new incarnation as the Jacksons. For such an obvious heater it’s puzzling why the label never released it as a single; but regardless of that apparent misstep, “Body Language” has long been a sure shot in many DJs’ bags. With his new edit, Mr. K presents the track in its ultimate form, loud, remastered, stretched out and rippling with energy over a full six minutes. With an iconic bass line that just doesn’t quit, and Michael and the boys in fine form, it’s impossible to imagine a situation where this wouldn’t set the room on fire.

Like so many other disenfranchised kids in the heady days of mid-eighties United
Kingdom, Magic Roundabout came armed with leather jackets, charity shop instruments, singles
by The Fall and Buzzcocks, good haircuts, a healthy VU obsession and a little psychedelic
inspiration. Influenced into existence at early gigs by The Jesus and Mary Chain and Shop
Assistants, The Roundies wanted to change the world or at the very least make some noise,
shake things up and be a part of the happening.
The gang established a clubhouse in early 1986 and began rehearsing, recording and
gigging. Playing a ton of legendary shows with the likes of The Pastels, The Blue Aeroplanes,
Spacemen 3, Loop , My Bloody Valentine, Inspiral Carpets and picking up a bunch of fans along
the way. Rumor has it that Noel Gallagher roadied their final show.
There was one song released - She’s a Waterfall Parts 1 and 2 on Mark Webber’s
(Pulp) Oozing Through The Ozone Layer cassette compilation - and that’s it. There were also
talks of a flexi-disc that, for whatever reason, never saw the light of day. But by the end of the
80s, the gang had all gone their separate ways and the recordings along with so many other
things were thought to be lost forever…
Now, these 1987 recordings recently unearthed by Ian Masters (Pale Saints) and Third
Man Records and given the “treatment” by Warren Defever are presented to you lucky ones as
the debut single by Magic Roundabout. 34 years too late or perfectly steeped and presented at
just the right moment in history? Tune in, turn on and make up your own mind. Enjoy the trip.

They Say: “New directions in contemporary scoring”.

We say: Contempo is one of the best full album listens in the KPM 1000 library. Succinct smoking soul, super tight breaks and string-drenched sleaze composed by the library master, Keith Mansfield.

The creator of the romping tunes that became the iconic themes to the BBC’s Grandstand programme and their televised Wimbledon Tennis Championship coverage, Keith Mansfield was perhaps KPM’s most prolific artist from the mid 1960s right the way through the 1980s. As well as the sort of pop orchestral sound that is all over these classic library records, he could also turn his hand to raw, edgy rock and funk. Quentin Tarantino is a big fan, going as far as including some of Keith’s work on the soundtracks to Kill Bill and Grindhouse.

Many library records are a game of two halves and Contempo is certainly one of those. The first side cooks on a high funk breaks flame whilst the flip is something altogether more tranquil, yet no less groovy. It lays back with dreamier, post-coital grooves.

Rugged funk opener “The Fix” confidently displays its low slung languid grooves with heavy drums, horns and bass. Smokin’ in slow motion. The punchy “What’s Cooking” follows and has a lighter, more whimsical touch. But the drums still roll and the clavs wiggle in fascinating opposition to those horns. The dark and moody intro to “Cut To Music” gives way to a more inclusive, relaxed funk that’s all irresistible bass and stabbing horns. The mid-tempo “Man Alive” signals the time to really get down. A percussive monster jam. If you can’t strut to this then we really can’t help you! Closing out the A side, fresh guitar licks drip all over the slick drums of “Funky Footage”, with a New Orleans piano vibe coming on to really light a fire.

Whilst the dramatic crime funk of the A side is enough on its own to have earned this record its place in the great library record canon, it’s undoubtedly the more smoothed out B side for which Contempo is rightfully adored and celebrated. It’s so chilled and mellow, with beautifully arranged, sweeping strings, sax solos aplenty and a real 70s soundtrack feel. Think Love Boat, CTI label, Bob James, Grover Washington Jr.-type jams.

The super sleek and sexy jazz funk of “Breezin’” is as light and magical as you’d hope. An open-air masterpiece, its indulgent sound is just a taster of the sophisticated funk to follow. The elegant, romantic feels of “Good Vibrations” (used brilliantly by Odd Future’s Mike G for “Swiss Army”) is a string-drenched, wah-wah fuelled ode to living your best life. Nonchalantly. Whilst it keeps a very West Coast feel, the blaxploitation strut is certainly more Blackbyrds than Brian Wilson. “Sun Goddess” will blow your mind with the sensuous sound of glorious horns and beautiful keys. The luxurious “Love De Luxe” and its horizontal grooves have been much sampled, but here it proves that it doesn’t need any help to get you in an intimate mood. Closer “Snake Hips” is a cool mid-pace slouch. Just divine.

Originally released in 1976 but, like the very best KPM records, wonderfully timeless, Contempo is also no mere LP-length collection of loosely related tracks. This is a rare example of a library record that is a genuinely great listen from start to finish.

As with all of our KPM re-issues, the audio for Contempo comes from the original analogue tapes and has been remastered for vinyl by Be With regular Simon Francis. And as usual, the sleeve reproduction duties were handed over to Richard Robinson, the current custodian of KPM’s brand identity.
: Contempo (KPM) (LP)

It doesn't happen too often that you come across someone with Sam's composure and artistry at such a young age. 22 year old Sam De Nef has been in music for a while as lead singer of indie outfit 'Danny Blue and the Old Socks', but It wasn't until last year he started thinking of a solo career. Influenced by a generation of songwriters he listens to every day, Sam felt an urge to follow his own path and write genuine songs he could play all by himself and at any time, unadorned and without pretence.

He started recording demo's during the March lockdown, swiftly landed a record deal and started recording his debut with Nicolas Rombouts (Dez Mona, Ottla, Stef Kamil Carlens) and PJ Decraene (Rhinos are People too) - also his live band - in an old house in the French Vosges mountains.

The first tracks he released did not go unnoticed at national radio, press and streaming playlists alike. Sam is a prolific writer and lyricist, he recorded a 7 track debut mini album, expected in February. We are instantly struck by his stunning vocals, his versatility and maturity as a songwriter, embracing the classics but never without transcending their influence.

Sam De Nef's first solo project is a vehicle to tell his own stories and write songs that come to him in the most natural way. His debut mini album is an inspired collection of visceral folk and singer songwriter tunes, drenched in nostalgia. He's inspired by the likes of Dylan, Jack Kerouac, Leonard Cohen and Karen Dalton, but displays a unique voice and decidedly steers clear of platitudes.

"On my first trip to Serbia, visiting my girlfriends family, I discovered a whole new world in music. People played their songs around the diner table. What I saw was a family sharing food, alcohol and stories everyone could relate to. This experience opened up a new window, the wind blowing inspiration. I want to tell stories and touch people with simple songs and colorful language."

There is a directness and intimacy throughout each of the record's 23 minutes, which both sparks universal melancholy and makes Sam De Nef's debut very personal.

Das zweite Tensnake-Studioalbum "L.A." erscheint nun endlich auf Vinyl. Benannt nach der Metropole an der US-Westküste, in der der Hamburger DJ und Produzent sechs Jahre lang eine Liebesbeziehung erlebte, huldigt Tensnake mit den 14 Tracks seine Liebe zum Pop, was sich besonders in dem Pointer Sisters-Cover "Automatic" widerspiegelt, das allein auf Spotify bereits über 5 Mio. Streams zählt und damit - nach seinem Klassiker "Coma Cat" (2010) - sein zweitmeistgestreamter Hit ist. Tensnakes Zeit in L.A. brachte ein exzellentes House-Pop-Album mit zahlreichen Vocal-Ohrwürmern und entspannten Instrumentals hervor.

A fixture on Copenhagen's music scene for nearly two decades, Nikolaj Jakobsen, aka Sugar, has to date thrived on concentrating - usually to the point of obsession - on one type of music at a time. Early on, it was punk: from his mid-teens he lived in the legendary squat and artistic community Ungdomshuset, toured worldwide with punk and metal bands, and was completely immersed in and dedicated to the city's DIY punk and metal scene.

Then in 2012 he set foot in a techno club for the first time, and his laser-like focus turned in that direction. Jakobsen began producing fast techno under the Sugar alias, and co-founded Fast Forward Productions, an agency and party that has gathered together the city's previously disparate band of fast techno and trance producers, DJs and collectives. Fast Forward has been instrumental in launching the careers of the likes of Schacke, Repro, Funeral Future and Rune Bagge, as well as Jakobsen himself.

Now Jakobsen is launching a new label that, even down to its name, is an open challenge to himself to focus on multiple musical styles at once. Perfumery, of which the Eyes Cream EP is the inaugural release, will be a home for his productions under the Sugar name and other aliases, as well as collaborative efforts with others. The label's open remit defies definitive categorisation of is to come, but its second release will be an abstract, atmospheric album by the cimbalom and tuba player and composer Anders Bo Eriksen, aka OPICA. On that record's heels will be collaborative projects with D.Dan and HVAD, as well as an experimental-minded debut LP by Jakobsen as Sugar.

Though Perfumery will be a platform for the exploration of new musical territories, Eyes Cream comprises four fast-techno hardware jams in Jakobsen's signature style. As well as showing off his knack for punning in a second language, opener Bright Side Of The Spoon is a classic Copenhagen splicing of darkness and light, with insistent, ominous bass waves leavened by twinkling synth textures. On the surface the middle two tracks, Eyes Cream and Try Me, are harder, flintier, Detroit-referencing tools. Just beneath, however, lurks the texture and warmth that is one of Copenhagen techno's prime calling cards. Perhaps the greatest treat of the EP is saved for last: Once And For No One is a gorgeous, gauzy, end-of-the-night banger that packs a hefty emotional punch.

All proceeds from physical and digital sales of the first EP on Perfumery will go to Sea-Watch.Org, a German NGO dedicated to saving migrants trying to reach Europe on stricken vessels in the Mediterranean.

Running Circle presents China-born DJ and producer Guohan, with his debut LP Lost Sound Book.
The 16 track publication charters an otherworldly inward journey, with influences ranging from ancestral rock carvings to bustling city streets, mythical tales to sunrise and sunset. Guohan draws from many places and cultures, hiphop and jazz, traditional music and everyday life, documenting the moods and colours left out from today’s society.
The fractured rhythms and harmonies on Lost Sound Book feel like a reconstruction of memories and missing links.

Katy Kirby is a Texas-based songwriter and indie rock practitioner with an affinity for unspoken rules, misunderstanding and boredom. She was born, raised and homeschooled by two ex-cheerleaders in small-town Texas and started singing in church, amidst the pasteurised-pop choruses of evangelical worship. Like many bible belt late-millennials, Katy grew up on a strict diet of this dependably uncool genre and accordingly, Cool Dry Place finds her dismantling it. "I can hear myself fighting that deeply internalized impulse to make things that are super pleasant or approachable," she says. Though Katy hasn't fully overcome the itch to please, it's to a listener's benefit. Instead of eradicating the pop sensibilities of her past, she warps them, lacing sugary hooks with sneaky rage, twisting affectionate tones into matter-of-fact reproach, and planting seemingly serene melodies with sonic jabs. The fun is in the clash. The nine tracks that make up Cool Dry Place are miscellaneous in subject (motherhood, late capitalism, disintegrating relationships) but unified by the angle from which they're told: from a person re-learning to process life with intense attention. Each song is a catalogue of fragments, the number of segments in an orange or the cut of an obsessively-worn shirt, distilled into meditations on the bizarre and microscopic exchanges that make up modern life - a relationship splintering, an uncomfortable pause, an understanding finally found. These emotional dioramas are moderated by the angular storytelling that unites Gillian Welch and Phoebe Bridgers, a favour for the conventions of short fiction over confession.

Katy Kirby is a Texas-based songwriter and indie rock practitioner with an affinity for unspoken rules, misunderstanding and boredom. She was born, raised and homeschooled by two ex-cheerleaders in small-town Texas and started singing in church, amidst the pasteurised-pop choruses of evangelical worship. Like many bible belt late-millennials, Katy grew up on a strict diet of this dependably uncool genre and accordingly, Cool Dry Place finds her dismantling it. "I can hear myself fighting that deeply internalized impulse to make things that are super pleasant or approachable," she says. Though Katy hasn't fully overcome the itch to please, it's to a listener's benefit. Instead of eradicating the pop sensibilities of her past, she warps them, lacing sugary hooks with sneaky rage, twisting affectionate tones into matter-of-fact reproach, and planting seemingly serene melodies with sonic jabs. The fun is in the clash. The nine tracks that make up Cool Dry Place are miscellaneous in subject (motherhood, late capitalism, disintegrating relationships) but unified by the angle from which they're told: from a person re-learning to process life with intense attention. Each song is a catalogue of fragments, the number of segments in an orange or the cut of an obsessively-worn shirt, distilled into meditations on the bizarre and microscopic exchanges that make up modern life - a relationship splintering, an uncomfortable pause, an understanding finally found. These emotional dioramas are moderated by the angular storytelling that unites Gillian Welch and Phoebe Bridgers, a favour for the conventions of short fiction over confession.

Hunt & Gather’s debut vinyl release comes by way of Pezzner’s cryptic moniker “The Native Language”. Written as a quasi-homeless man living off the rich in the San Juan Islands who writes music once per year to suffice his own delusions.

Walking the streets in these damp, anxious days that all run together lately, I was approached by a man who would blend right into the neighborhood, layered in flannel and sweatshirts for sleeping.

Rough, but for his shoes. (Never cheap out on anything that separates you from the ground.) “Pezzner,” he called out, from a safe distance. “What did the mangrove say to the marauding hordes.” My soul left my body for a moment and my voice responded on its own. “Petrichor.”

He caught my eye, nodded, left a padded envelope on the ground and vanished. The envelope had passed through many hands, slipped into the bed of a ferry-bound truck, passed from one fellow traveler to another, stashed under the counters of anarchist bookstores, left tucked between books at Little Free Libraries. The greenish stains suggested that at one point it had been swum across a lake. Another DAT, contents encoded here unabridged, and a letter from someone who called himself The Sentinel.

The Vessel lived out his days on Shaw Island, under a canopy of trees that gets smaller and smaller every season. His condition the same, any electricity lit his brain on fire, could only bring himself to compose one day a year, only at night, out of sight. Until he met The Angel, an eccentric with means, who built for him a device.

A Faraday Cage to block all electromagnetic emissions. Burlap walls, for atmosphere. A system of pulleys and levers, wood and rope, all running into a box that sat outside. An entirely mechanical control surface. No electrons in here. The Vessel lit fires, watched the shadows dance, closed his eyes and disappeared into the motion for hours at a time. The Sentinel came every morning to change the tapes. The Angel watched and pondered, his plans unknown.

The box sat sealed, bare except for another set of ideograms, scratched in day by day over time. Inside, the usual bedroom-producer shit. Outside, the ideograms told a story, passed from the Vessel to the Sentinel and drawn by the Angel, of a man who became another creature. Alert to the lowest frequencies, feeling music deep in the soil below their feet. Music that brings messages, from distant friends, warning of new creatures and the danger they brought. Skin alive to the world, so sensitive it can detect the landing of a single fly. A mind capable of keeping a map of the world inside. A mind that can look in a mirror and see a soul it knows well. A mind that can grieve.

After processing its contents, I filled the envelope with granola bars and walked it down to the market. The clerk gave me a knowing look as I placed it on the counter behind a stack of pork rinds from the previous century. As I walked out, a young man carrying a plastic bag and wearing impeccable shoes walked in.

Katy Kirby is a Texas-based songwriter and indie rock practitioner with an affinity for unspoken rules, misunderstanding and boredom. She was born, raised and homeschooled by two ex-cheerleaders in small-town Texas and started singing in church, amidst the pasteurised-pop choruses of evangelical worship. Like many bible belt late-millennials, Katy grew up on a strict diet of this dependably uncool genre and accordingly, Cool Dry Place finds her dismantling it. "I can hear myself fighting that deeply internalized impulse to make things that are super pleasant or approachable," she says. Though Katy hasn't fully overcome the itch to please, it's to a listener's benefit. Instead of eradicating the pop sensibilities of her past, she warps them, lacing sugary hooks with sneaky rage, twisting affectionate tones into matter-of-fact reproach, and planting seemingly serene melodies with sonic jabs. The fun is in the clash. The nine tracks that make up Cool Dry Place are miscellaneous in subject (motherhood, late capitalism, disintegrating relationships) but unified by the angle from which they're told: from a person re-learning to process life with intense attention. Each song is a catalogue of fragments, the number of segments in an orange or the cut of an obsessively-worn shirt, distilled into meditations on the bizarre and microscopic exchanges that make up modern life - a relationship splintering, an uncomfortable pause, an understanding finally found. These emotional dioramas are moderated by the angular storytelling that unites Gillian Welch and Phoebe Bridgers, a favour for the conventions of short fiction over confession.

GER Angefangen hat das alles Mitte der Achtziger in der nordhessischen Provinz, im Zonenrandgebiet (so hieß das damals offiziell) in Eschwege. Vier Jungs, die Spaß an Punkrock hatten, dazu ein gehöriges Maß an Talent und Fleiß und in Zimbl einen sehr charismatischen Frontmann und Songschreiber, in Personalunion Sänger und Bassist. Und es hat nicht nur den Bates selber Spaß gemacht, was sie da anstellten. Über die klassische Ochsentour durch Jugendzentren, kleine Clubs und Spelunken, regionale Festivals erspielten sie sich den Ruf, das Geilste zwischen Werra, Fulda und Weser zu sein, was man live erleben konnte. Es dauerte dann auch nicht lange und sie erspielten sich den gleichen Ruf im Rest der Republik. "Unfucked - Live" ist im Original in 1993 bei Snoop erschienen, ihr letztes vor dem Wechsel zur Virgin und das einzige, welches bislang nie wiederveröffentlicht wurde. Keine Ahnung warum, denn es ist ein eindrucksvolles Zeugnis, welche Kraft diese Band gerade live entwickelt hat. Die Aufnahmen selber stammen von 1992, aus dem Outpost in Göttingen und der Weinberghalle in Eschwege. Sie wurden bei Pauler Acoustics gemastert, was schon ein Qualitätssiegel ist und jetzt bei Master & Servant speziell nochmal fürs Vinyl bearbeitet.

Da ist sie endlich, die Todesliste von Audio88 & Yassin!
Seit Halleluja sind wieder vier Jahre ins Land gezogen (oder waren es fünf?) und die beiden Hassprediger stehen vor einer Welt, die sich partout nicht an die darauf formulierten Regeln für ein friedvolles Miteinander halten mag. Im Gegenteil: Menschen gehen auf die Straße, um gegen die Rücksichtnahme aufeinander zu demonstrieren, weshalb nun auf die geduldige Missionierung der konsequente Kreuzzug folgt. Wer nicht hören will, muss fühlen.
Während der langen Wartezeit wurden keine Däumchen gedreht, sondern kompromisslos an der eigenen Vision gefeilt. Unterstützt wurden sie dabei von Produzentenlegende Philipp Schwär und Genre-Größen wie Bazzazian, Farhot, Suff Daddy, Torky Tork, Ghanaian Stallion, Dienst&Schulter und den Drunken Masters. Diesmal gibt’s auf die Fresse!
Audio88 & Yassin sind immer noch dein schlechtes Gewissen, stehen bald auch vor deiner Tür und möchten wissen, auf welcher Seite der Rolltreppe du die letzten Jahre standest. Es wird abgerechnet, Team Normal ist endlich zurück!

Das Album “Todesliste” erscheint am 12.02.2021 über Normale Musik / Groove Attack.

Influenced by a life split between Lima, London, and Twentynine Palms, Peru-born M. Caye Castagnetto’s Leap Second is an intriguingly personal and hard to classify debut album. The album is a thick collage of samples Caye recorded with different artists and musicians, including Beatrice Dillon and the late Aileen Bryant, that spans five years in the making. There is something in Leap Second that tracks the speed of bodies, how they approach and retreat. The ten tracks are speedy and languid, thick ruffles, and dirges. In parts it feels like one’s stumbled upon a forgotten incredible ’70s folk record but that feeling gets broken quickly by clever sleights of hand. Caye’s balladry is angular, time is elastic. Each song is a fresh cape. How dandies really mean it, so masc- that it’s fay, how the only moment is this one and it’s just passed, etcetera.“While it doesn’t really sound like anything else, there are moments that feel like a Latin-flavored Nico, that’s edging its way towards some of the outings of the Sun City Girls. In my opinion it checks all the boxes, by checking none of them.” —Bjorn Copeland, Black Dice “A truly interesting conglomeration of loose inspirations and conjurings. A hard to decipher sound all together which makes it worth every moment...a sprinkling of Catherine Ribeiro, Dr. John, Terje Rypdal and Nico. Far-out sun-soaked odysseys and moon-dappled woodland night creepers...” —John Dwyer

African-born, Baltimore-based experimental hip-hop producer Infinity Knives joins PhantomLimb for the release of his unique debut album Dear, Sudan, a vibrant and polymathic labyrinth of moods and colours.

Infinity Knives - aka producer and musician Tariq Ravelomanana - moved from Tanzania (via Kenya, South Africa and Madagascar) to Baltimore with his family as a teenager, soaking up the raw,vociferous hip hop culture around him, devouring Western classical music, and embedding himself with the city’s verdant music scene. This unique combination of life experiences and contrasting strands of musical education empowered and enabled him to create his Infinity Knives guise, allowing us a window into his singular energy with Dear, Sudan.

​Tariq writes “Music has always been my medium. Since I was a child living in Tanzania, music has been my babysitter. The one central idea I kept dwelling on was that all humans experience sorrow, but despite the fact that it's universal, we still experience it as if we were alone.”

Appropriately, Infinity Knives casts a wide and thrilling net. Dear, Sudan runs like a masterful showreel of deftly balanced disparate elements, a late night channel-hopping between multiple, vital, powerful musics. Tariq himself offers “experimental, drone, hip hop, leftfield minimalism, neo-classical and Baltimore” as his key styles. “I wanted Dear, Sudan to be a record of the things that I enjoy, the things that keep me coming back to this life and I wanted it to be in the language I understand the most. I hope that this album can be a companion to those in need.”

Hot on the heels of our tentacular project "The Most Famous Unknown", Planet Phuture is proud to welcome rising French talent Cuften to the fold. A most fitting match for PP's phuture-facing vision, Damien Peltier has been pushing some of the finest techno around over the last couple of years, landing a handful memorable cuts via the likes of Parisian label Tripalium and his own imprint, Purusu. Cloaked in dim-lit atmospheres and open-ended post-apocalyptic narratives, his debut solo 12" blends in all of the elements that made his sound stand out from the crowd of releases coming up these days - traversed by dogged primitive rhythms and reassessed 303-infused Detroit'isms, but also stamped with his signature no-frills rave elegance.

Speeding up the cosmic highway like Deckard roams San Fran's neon-splattered alleys on the hunt for replicants, Cuften takes us on a full-immersion journey into dystopian electronic soundscapes. Full-beam on, "Solar Ashes" has us drifting amidst ruins of a devastated city - its lysergic bass languidly threading its way across brutalist concrete facades and cold ember set for reignition. A more martial affair, "The Black Rain Order" pulls out the rattling drums, slo-boiling arpeggios and moebius-strips of wistful acid to score a supremely tense crescendo, both optimally tasted on and off the dance floor.

Moving up closer to the free-spirited vibe of the '90s open-air raves, "Rise Of The Neo-Humans" unleashes a baroque firestorm of sucker-punchy toms and hyperventilating shuffle, woven against an endlessly expanding corolla of hallucinogenic shapes and fluttering harmonics. Sinking further deep into all-dark dubby grounds, "Lasttt Batttle" extrudes its obsessive melody out a thick gangue of squelchy chords and bleepin' engineering to form the kind of brain-washing hybrid pumper that'll roast your last remaining neurones. Trouble-brewing isn't over though and the droney "Kjhfskjoize" shall take you to places unknown through eleven minutes of envelope-shifting shamanism, thinking noise bake-off and gravity-defying arrangements. Bend your mind.

180 g black Vinyl + CD

‘‘I am not as other detectives!’
Presently in triple gatefold vinyl for the very first time, Dirk Gently – The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul sees Harry Enfield return as the singular detective in this full-cast BBC radio dramatisation of the novel by Douglas Adams. First broadcast on Radio 4 in 2008, these fantastically entertaining comedy sci-fi dramas are adapted and directed by Dirk Maggs, acclaimed for his dramatisations of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Good Omens, Neverwhere and many others.
When Dirk Gently’s long-suffering secretary, Janice, resigns to work in an airport, it’s the beginning of a very strange adventure for both of them. The detective takes to reading palms whilst dressed as an old gypsy woman, but meanwhile the ancient Norse God Odin has fallen into the hands of an unscrupulous advertising executive (and her husband). Bring on Odin’s son, Thor, a godlike curse that turns Janice into a vending machine, and countless other interconnected things…
Starring Harry Enfield as Dirk Gently and Olivia Colman as Janice, with Billy Boyd as Richard MacDuff, Laurel Lefkow as Kate Schechter, Stephen Moore as Odin, John Fortune as Dr Standish, Philip Jackson as the Vagrant, Jan Ravens as Cynthia Draycott and Peter Davison as Simon Draycott, with a guest cast including Rupert Degas, Morwenna Banks, Sally Grace, Jon Glover, Michael Fenton Stevens and Susan Sheridan, and music by Philip Pope. Adapted by Dirk Maggs and John Langdon from the novel of the same name by Douglas Adams. Directed by Dirk Maggs.
Three 140g coloured vinyl discs – in Holistic Red, Yellow and Blue - are presented in an illustratedc triple gatefold sleeve, with an exclusive sleeve note by Dirk Maggs.

Wretched Cuts is the new solo EP by gender-nonconforming techno artist, Projekt Gestalten. The release comes via the New York’s Mild Fantasy imprint run by DJ Elle Dee and features three original themes focusing on introspective techno plus a remix by veteran, The Lady Machine.

The project reflects an array of themes using as the starting point the story of Estamira and the Brazilian documentary of the same name, telling her life story. Estamira was an incredibly enlightened older woman who scattered one of the largest landfills of Rio de Janeiro for food. Not because she had to, but because she loved that place as she loved “her own children” and enjoyed making a living out of other people’s disposable goods. Simultaneously, while dealing with schizophrenia and abuse, she believed she was a superior spiritual being whose magical powers could control time, space, and other elements of nature.

The tracks are inspired by some of her most memorable quotes and moments that made an impact on Projekt Gestalten. “Wise People In Reverse” goes into a darker approach and samples Estamira’s voice talking in a mysterious unknown language with an unrevealed force, using only a broken piece of a telephone that she had just found it in the trash. “Morte Macaca” takes a rhythmic approach towards dub techno, and “Holographic Principle” gets trippier and hallucinogenic with Projekt Gestalten’s signature acid lines. The Lady Machine’s “Wise People In Reverse” remix takes the original theme to a driving, peak hour approach and transforms it into an effective DJ tool.

“There are no more innocent people on Earth, only wise people in reverse”.

Bristol-based trip hop trio Jabu this week announced details of their second album. ‘Sweet Company’ will be released on November 20th via the group’s own do you have peace? imprint.

Sweet Company is the second album by Jabu. Where their first LP, Sleep Heavy, was an unflinching exploration of grief, dark and disembodied, Sweet Company’s deep, sedative soul feels like more of a lovers’ outing: optimistic, becalmed, looking outwards as well as inwards, and longing for the kind of human connections where ego and self-consciousness might dissolve. It is perhaps also an exhortation to love and accept yourself, to recover a lost innocence and peace – that paradise which has always been lost. Released via their own do you have peace? label, Sweet Company is on the one hand a very intimate and private-sounding work - the sound of life played out in a room, a bubble, a home, a head. The rhythms of everyday domesticity: listening to the plants, cars in the street, voices through the wall…. going to work, not going to work, sleeping heavy or not sleeping at all. Wavering on the brink of a revelation, of something just beyond the material world, while you wait for the kettle to boil. The core Jabu trio of producer Amos Childs and vocalists Jasmine Butt and Alex Rendall is present and correct. Sweet Company has theexhilarating sweep and confidence of a collaboration between people who trust and understand each other implicitly, and, secure in that knowledge, are able to give the absolute best of themselves to us. As before, Jasmine’s voice is a textural, painterly instrument, layered and blurred into abstraction, resisting the limits of language; the songs she sings on are portals into vast internal landscapes where the normal rules of gravity are suspended, every sound is smothered in a cathedral-like resonance, and you're both fearful and hopeful that you might never find your way back out again. Alex takes a more narrative, confessional and no less engaging pop tack: as on the gauzy, decelerated 2-step of ‘Lately’, with his masochistic, self-mocking entreaties to “be cruel to me … I like it when you make a fool of me”. Childs has a true hip-hop fiend's ear for a striking sample, and how to loop it to most hypnotic and rapturous effect, but here takes things to ever more powerfully uncanny and auteurish places, drawing inspiration from the voidal bliss-outs of shoegaze (AR Kane’s amniotic dream-pop epic 69 is one influence cited) and the space-time disturbances of dub, commanding both a raindrops-on-cobwebs delicacy and an immense, oceanic pressure. His productions seem to resist linear progression - instead they move by a kind of unstoppable diffusion, like weeds reclaiming an unkempt garden, or alien flora patterning the sea-floor and coral-caves of the subaquatic level of a computer game which may exist only in your, or his, imagination. Perhaps it's Daniela Dyson, the British-Afro-Colombian artist who contributes her vivid, energising poetic mysticism to two tracks, who best sums up Sweet Company's ambition and effect: “Me quiero perder en los momentos tan puros en su esencia que Las Horas mismas se detienen para ser testigo de nuestro amor” (I want to lose myself in the moments so pure in their essence / that The Hours themselves stop to bear witness to our love…). For a precious half an hour, we're invited to celebrate the smallness of our lives - and the limitless grandeur which that smallness contains. When it ends, we step back from the brink but things aren’t quite the same anymore: we’re haunted by what we briefly almost knew.