quête:léa sen

Minor Science—aka UK-born, Berlin-based musician Angus Finlayson—makes his Balmat debut with Absent Friends Vol. III, the third installment in a shape-shifting series across a variety of formats and platforms. And with it, he pushes forward his vision of ambient music as neither static vista or merely mood-setting atmosphere, but rather a dynamic matrix of textures, sensations, and even rhythms.

The first two Absent Friends—a 2014 set for Blowing Up the Workshop, and a 2017 cassette and web player for Whities (now AD93)—were hybrid affairs, part DJ mix and part collage, mostly featuring music made by other people. Then, in 2020-21, Finlayson developed the project into a live show of his own material. Armed with hundreds of bespoke stems created in his studio—idiosyncratic FX chains, feedback loops through cheap rack gear, heavily post-processed field recordings, found voices, etc.—he would improvise on four CDJs, mixer, FX, and live synths, extending techniques he learned as a club DJ into a live context, accompanied by visuals by Stockholm-based artist Paul Witherden.

Absent Friends Vol. III is an album of studio versions of the music developed for the live show. But in Minor Science’s world, even a category as simple as “studio versions” is slightly opaque. “Most of these tracks weren’t ‘composed’ in the studio,” Finlayson explains: “The sounds started out as stems and source material for the live show, and might not have been intended to go together—but then through performance, they settled into shapes that worked. I then recreated those performances in the studio.” That organic process of ideation and realization might help explain the unusual coherence of the album, in which sounds and textures flow seamlessly from one to the next, sometimes seeming to stand still, and sometimes looping back. There are virtually no melodies, few recognizable motifs or riffs, yet the eight-track album nevertheless moves with a distinctive logic and a determined sense of purpose, from the frozen-in-time shimmer of the opening “Introduction” through the early cuts’ studies of space and light; from the seemingly autobiographical “Summer Diary” through the rushing trance (yes, trance) arpeggios of “Contingency” and on to the dulcet denouement of the closing “Gather Your Party (Dispersed Mix).”

Last year Low End Activist mapped out the depth and breadth of his sound with the Hostile Utopia album on Sneaker Social Club and now he returns with a fresh payload of future shock-outs from the grimy depths of his sound well. Recent times have seen LEA releases tipping towards MC guest spots but on this EP he’s turning inward with three varied, mutant workouts for soundsystem immersion.

‘Sent West’ makes no bones about its inspiration from the tough, boxy end of early dubstep, but as ever the kink in the Activist’s sound comes from the detail around the rhythm and his embrace of off-centre textures. ‘Neurosis’ plumbs even further down in its dogged pursuit of infinite subs and dystopian atmospherics, offering the kind of subliminal, wayward stepper to tweak nervous minds to distraction. ‘Dry Chat, Wet Rag’ stretches out on the B side with a phantom dub pulled from rad-blasted wastelands, caked in slime and tough enough to withstand any fallout.

Calling to mind the introspective, evocative work on the likes of Engineers Origins EP, this is LEA using the hardcore continuum to tell his most murked-out tales.

Madben's superb Troisième Sens album is remixed again, as new mixes from Josh Wink and AVNU join previous offerings from Alinka and Avision on this standout EP.

Kicking off this fantastic package is Ukraine-born but Berlin-based Alinka. She is now right at the cutting edge of the scene after big releases on the likes of Rekids and Live at Robert Johnson. She is a regular at iconic spots like Berghain/Panorama Bar, Circoloco and Smart Bar and flips 'Addicted' into a heavy house cut with thumping drums and lithe baselines. Acid sprays about over warmer synths to make for a real peak-time weapon. Next up is Josh Wink, a legendary electronic artist who heads up the Ovum label and has consistently crafted some of house and techno's biggest tracks. He flips '1AM At A Rave' into seven-plus minutes of scintillating electronic deepness with trippy leads and real synth intensity building to an explosive peak.

NYC DJ and producer Avision has released EPs such as ‘Innocence’ on this label while also getting support for his new school techno from Adam Beyer and Chris Liebing. His remix of 'Circuit Breaker' is a chunky and textural affair with seriously weighty drums. Stark synths rise up through the mix next to bubbling acid to make for a heart-of-the-dance-floor classic. Scottish artist AVNU is another label regular who dropped his ‘Tough To Love But Worth The Effort’ album here last year. He flips '1AM At A Rave' into a dark and atmospheric cut with flashes of strobe-lit synth and zippy leads that rip up the crunchy electro-tinged drums.

This is a vital package of varied reworks that bring plenty of new direction to the superb source material.

In Rumi's poem A Great Wagon he writes of a place of total acceptance. "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there," It is a boundless, liminal space where we can release the judgments we make and carry of ourselves, and the comparisons to others. When we think of this field, there is a sense of tranquility that only comes when we are undisturbed by the shadow self and see existence as neither bright nor dim, white nor black. But as lead singer Greg Bertens explains, arriving there is a whole different story. "This is a poem I've returned to over the years, and I love the idea of this place, but getting there is life's journey." Bertens adds "I think the longing for and elusiveness of this field is a recurring theme in our music." Field is enveloped by themes of regret, disconnection and frustration but with the space to understand that these feelings are a natural part of the struggle between reconciling the inner and outer self. The Los Angeles/San Francisco-based group have been indie shoegaze stalwarts since their formation in 2001. After two decades and a handful of line-up changes, their extensive discography presents a dynamically textural, lush psychedelic rock that has featured guest appearances by members of Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, and Snow Patrol, among others. 2021's LP We Weren't Here was hailed for its dense instrumental blanket, where unrelenting hi-hats and heavy kicks exist alongside dreamy drone guitar. This propulsive nature permeates Field, as members Bertens, Noël Brydebell (vocals), Nyles Lannon (guitar), Jason Ruck (synths), Justin LaBo (bass), and Adam Wade (drums) produce a kaleidoscopic sonic landscape. Patient, sprawling instrumentation builds a foundation in which Bertens' themes of endurance, perseverance and clarity can bloom with a considered poise. As a lyricist who writes in response to the instrumental arrangements, rather than a focus on a specific theme or person, Field is a testament to Film School's ability to create in the moment, and to showcase the magic that stems from when we are truly present. Album opener "Tape Rewind" is a swirling rush of color, as sustained guitars, darkened bass lines and urgent, percussive swells dance alongside each other. "This is the newest of all the songs on the record and feels like a new level of heaviness for the band," Bertens explains, noting that its lyrical context of struggling to move past trauma adds to its cathartic essence. Field is bookended by heavier themes, with closer "All I'll Ever Be" taking on the perspective of those we hurt when we embrace our own toxic behaviors. Originally written to be a simple acoustic guitar and vocals song soon turned into an ethereal, effects-laden composition, with Noël's hazy lead vocals ushering in a new-found acceptance. "It's all I want / To be released / And all I can be," she laments, cementing Field's message of accepting ourselves in whatever form we find ourselves in. "Defending Ruins" is a murky relentless underworld, inspired by the freewheeling tones of Texas-based band Holy Wave. "Defending the ruins, defending remains," Bertens spits, among a richly-layered outro. "Don't You Ever" confirms Film School's ability to merge both delicate and growling instrumentation throughout the album, with the song's softly spoken section hovering above sparkling guitar. "Is This A Hotel" bends towards the electronic aspects of the band, with wailing synths accompanying a story of bitter desire. With over two decades in the industry, Field cements Film School as a distinct, dominant force in the shoegaze scene. Soaked in an emotionally open, imaginative atmosphere, the album is both singular and expansive, and leaves the door open for a constantly evolving interpretation. Film School have never confined themselves to the rigidity of specifics, and it's on Field that they urge us to look beyond the binary of certainty, and to take a second look

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

Repressed and note new dealer price. The members of Explosions in the Sky may just be four soft-spoken guys from Texas, but on Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever they simply tear everything apart. Combining influences from classic rock to metal to goth, the band creates instrumental soundscapes that can turn from all-out destruction to heartfelt, dreamy melodies in the blink of an eye. The result is similar to Mogwai and Godspeed a musical journey that leads listeners through the entire range of emotion without even needing words. "Greet Death" matches a crunchy Dinosaur Jr hook with warm Cure-esque bass grooves. "Moon Down" chimes and twists through ten minutes of calm night, leaving the listener with the feeling that something awesome is sure to happen. On "Have You Passed Through This Night?" one of the members of Explosions in the Sky ponders in a near-whispering Texas drawl the meaning of the world. What follows is like the climax of a tense, mind-blowing movie, driven by relentless guitars and a thundering Master of puppets Metallica drum march. "Poor Man's Memory" follows, offering some consolation in a sentimental melody. The album ends with the grand, 12-minute-long "With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept," a song that moves from Sonic Youth to Joy Division to Explosions in the Sky. Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever is nothing short of awe-inspiring and was one of the best records of 2001. A1 Greet Death A2 Yasmin The Light A3 The Moon Is Down B1 Have You Passed Through This Night? B2 A Poor Man's Memory B3 With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept

Enter the realm of Illa J, the musical force shaking the foundations of the industry. His latest offering, 'No Traffic', is a testament to his boundless talent and versatility, showcasing his singing, production and rapping abilities on 19 tracks written and produced entirely by Illa J himself. This album marks his debut on BBE Music and a new chapter in his musical journey. Meet Illa J: a musical prodigy raised in a family of talented musicians. With a jazz bassist father and a gifted singer mother, it's no surprise that Illa J was destined for greatness. He's best known as the younger brother of hip-hop legend J Dilla and has made a name for himself as a former member of Detroit's iconic hip-hop group, Slum Village. With a lifetime of exposure to quality music and top-tier musicians, Illa J is a force to be reckoned with. Created amidst the chaos of the pandemic, Illa J's 'No Traffic' serves as a beacon of hope, a roadmap for creatives seeking their path. He enlists the help of Detroit legends Amp Fiddler, Frank n Dank, British soul sensation Harleighblu, and introduces the rising stars of Detroit, Serious, Joz B, Maine Soul, and more, all matching Illa J's energy and passion on the tracks. The focus track of the album, "Star Struck", is a prime example of Illa J's signature style. The astral pentatonic soundscape and precise drum programming transport you to new heights, while Illa J's beats, melodies, and bars will leave you in awe. 'No Traffic' is a musical journey that takes you to a place where Illa J's playful and versatile sound reigns supreme. The album is expertly mastered by Grammy-award nominated The Carvery Studio and is a refreshing experience of a true artist reveling in their artistry. Don't miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to delve into Illa J's musical realm."

repressed !

Undesignated remixes is an expansive project containing 12 remixes of tracks from dgoHn’s iconic 2020 full-length by some choice artists from in and around the Love Love sphere. Remixes that take dgoHn’s unique razor-sharp original productions and send them through a loop and round the twist, some stripped down, some messed up, most but not all maintaining the speedier tempos that dgoHn likes to work around. The result is a collection of seriously futuristic electronic music with some stylistic leanings towards labels like braindance or drumfunk or jungle but completely genre-eluding as a whole, reshaped from the minerals of the original LP by some absolute dons of their craft.

Opening the album Equinox does a fantastic job highlighting the lushness of ‘Puppet’ layering sky-high sunshine pads before sliding into Meat Beat Manifesto’s heavy sci-fi acid dub version of ‘Daisy Takes Two’. A woozy remix of ‘Lucky Gonk’ by Macc & dgoHn marks the first new material from them as a duo since ’09 and Wisp also makes a rare appearance bringing his inimitable post-rephlexian vibes on an agonisingly wonderful, melody-heavy remix of 'Electryon'. Skee Mask’s choice of remixing ‘Robin’s Windmill’ turns the original into a bundle of writhing rhythms organically unfolding with swelling ambient tones. Homegrown heroes Rognvald & Scrase both opt for pumped up post-breakcore in unconventional time signatures while Djrum emphatically provides the LP’s dose of peak jungle choppage, tempering the drum breaks of ‘Ninnyhammer’ with a blistering amen. Also featured on the LP are crisp and beefy drum workouts courtesy of Coco Bryce and Forest Drive West, visceral and apocalyptic half-time bass from Activia Benz affiliated duo Quavis and virtuosic noir-jazz tearout from fellow East-Anglian Carl Brown.

Rare Jazz-Funk album from 1978 by Headhunters founder.
Featuring an all-star line-up including Herbie Hancock.
Originally released in 1978 on Tobisha EMI Japan.
First vinyl reissue outside of Japan released in collab w/Totown Records. Comes with double side insert.

Paul Jackson (born in Oakland, California in 1947) needs little introduction. Paul began playing bass at the age of nine and was considered by many of his teachers to be a musical prodigy. Jackson was known as a “Musician’s Musician” and shaped a sound that launched a new direction in contemporary music: the so-called ‘Pulse Playing’, a trademark sound of close-meshed funk grooves combined with sensational rhythms. With this innovative approach, he influenced entire generations of jazz and funk musicians to come. Paul’s compositions were sampled by big acts from the likes of Prince, TLC, Mobb Deep and NWA…just to name a few.

Paul Jackson was a founding member of the Headhunters under Herbie Hancock (THE group responsible for their ground-breaking fusion and jazz-funk compositions that took the world by storm in the 70’s). The solid union between Hancock and Jackson has been especially evident in the many international tours they have made together…not to mention that he participated on most of the Headhunters albums and Herbie’s solo albums.

Paul has also worked as a producer and as a studio/live musician alongside acts such as Santana, Sonny Rollins and The Pointer Sisters. He was a frequent guest performer at renowned international festivals such as the Montreux and Newport events. Jackson’s composing has not gone without recognition and was nominated for Grammy Awards in 1974, 1975 and 1976. Like other highly talented, creatively motivated engineers of music, Paul has expanded his career to other mediums such as playing on blockbuster movie soundtracks such as “Death wish” and “Dirty Harry”.

Paul Jackson also wrote five solo albums worth listening to – including the monster of an album that is known as “Black Octopus” which is considered to be a kind of lost Headhunters album.

His debut album “Black Octopus” saw the light of day in 1978 and is a total piece of art filled with abstract sticky funky grooves, floating electric piano playing, strong thumping bass lines, raw heavy drums and amazing vocal acrobatics (Jackson himself takes vocals in 3 out of 5 songs, and his soulful singing voice strikes an emotional chord that does not go unnoticed).

On “Black Octopus” you’ll also find some of the best all-star musicians from the likes of Alphonse Mouzon (Roy Ayers, Betty Davis, Azar Lawrence)…and last but not least fellow Headhunters Bennie Maupin and Herbie Hancock himself.

With “Black Octopus” Paul Jackson wrote the book on how a jazz-funk-fusion album should sound like. The fact that the album was only distributed in Japan at the time (Jackson resided in Tokyo since the late 70’s, where he passed away in 2021) continues to increase its reputation as an album that is VERY hard to find. This is a must-have gem…not only for fans of jazz, funk and rare grooves, but also for DJs and collectors around the globe.

Following up on the incredible success of El Michels & Black Thought's Glorious Game album the duo treat us to another 7" with two of the standouts from the album. The A Side "Hollow Way" is a testament to the chemistry between Leon & Thought. EMA uses his signature sound with a new approach pulling records from his collection and sampling them. The result is a gritty lofi sonic backdrop that Black Thought flexes his lyrical brilliance on weaving a tune about guns and gun violence. The beat change at the end drives the point home, leaving any samples behind and lets the band remind people why they are one of the most in demand acts out there today. The B side "I'm Still Somehow" is a deeply introspective tune that Thought rhymes about vulnerability and overcoming challenges with heavy lines like "a happy black boy is like an alien" and "one crown, who was run down, somehow still standing tall". Michels again takes his ear and sensibility to the sampler, chopping up an old 45 that makes the perfect backdrop for this powerful and timeless song.

Coke Bottle Clear 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.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

With I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy, Fat Tony embodies the kind of quixotic figure he would rap about; a singular entity who’s motivated, confident, and hungry; a perpetual-motion-machine locked in a staring contest with his country. It’s the latest album in his catalog produced entirely by L.A-based producer Taydex since 2020’s Wake Up. Later that same year Fat Tony released Exotica, and ever since he’s demonstrated he is in his own lane as a professional rapper with the mind of a magician, as quick to conjure an image as pull it out from under you, deftly manoeuvring through so many details and references a listener feels as if they have witnessed the work of an illusionist. He paints these canvases inside of songs that rarely spill past three minutes; they’re pocket-sized diaries replete with acute observations, character studies, microdoses of storytelling, and single-minded ruminations on a topic that bud, blossom, and fade before too long. Fat Tony & Taydex’s I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy cements Tony’s status as someone whose albums are not so much lyrically-lyrical as they are picaresque.
As with any Fat Tony project, the bars are tight as ever, but are so fluid for the 34-year-old it’s almost easy to take for granted the details, warmth, and humanity inside his free-associative tales of day-one friends who’ve passed, edgelord grifters who want to spit game, and nights on ketamine. Taydex’s production sprints through disparate yet simpatico styles, dipping its toes into Pi’erre Bourne-esque bass (see lead single “Spectacular”), house (“Loosen Up”), and even hyperpop. Meditations on loss and grief are woven throughout, but Tony throws a few curveballs as well: Consider “Alexis,” which sweetly reflects on a long-term platonic friendship. Taydex finds a Teddy Riley-indebted New Jack Swing groove just deep enough for the feeling to land and underlines the song’s sincere candor. This is the appeal of Fat Tony writ-large: his boisterous voice and genial personality invite you to the party, then you stick around to hear what he’s saying, which is frequently more introspective and complex than one assumes.
Written and recorded in Taydex’s new studio in North Hollywood, Tony says, “We had much more freedom and flexibility in making this album and you can hear it. It felt like a family project.” If the album is comfortable and loose, it is also dense and substantial. The album’s final two tracks contextualize the immediacy of what came before it—the mezcal with ices drank, Paul Wall swangin’ through to drop knowledge, the Polaris Prize-winning rapper Cadence Weapon providing a vibe check. “Make a Baby” accounts for Tony who’s seen everything, and knows he’s met the one to be a father with, and yet chooses to take his time to get it done. Taydex’s beat recalls turn-of-the-century R&B and the millennial promise of an endless good time. Sombre closer “Jasper, TX” is Tony coming to grips with the story of James Byrd, Jr., a Black man from East Texas dragged to his death by three white supremacists in 1998. These songs are not only trademarks of Tony’s fastidious rapping—they are deeply personal examples of his approach to artistry and life itself, where every decision is made in the shadow of history.
It’s here the mission statement of I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy comes into focus—you get the sense he means it, he’s ready for it, he’ll fight for it. He’s waiting to take the world at its word.

Since 2003, Cleveland, OH's Midnight have been peddling their classic homage of self styled Black Rock N' Roll, building up sizable catalog for their ever growing fanbase. "Shox Of Violence." corrals all of Midnight's early EPs and splits into one savory collection of heavy metal madness. "Shox Of Violence" features four (at the time of original release) new songs plus a covers of Venom's "Too Loud For The Crowd" that was available exclusively to subscribers of Decibel magazine, some super-rowdy live tracks and a handful of covers of Midnight favorites from The Spits, Quiet Riot, Girlschool, The Pagans, Australia's Taipan and NWOBHM cult Crucifixion among others.

The Tallest Man On Earth - the project of Swedish musician Kristian Matsson - presents Too Late For Edelweiss, an album of new covers out ANTI. With Too Late For Edelweiss, Matsson weaves together a sparse collection of home recordings made in Sweden and North Carolina, captured fresh off a 39-date run with the adrenaline of tour rattling through his veins. The songs on Too Late For Edelweiss have been with Matsson since he started playing music as The Tallest Man on Earth in 2006. In those early years, Matsson used to perform "Lost Highway" by Hank Williams before he had enough songs to flesh out a full set. In July 2022, Matsson released a cover of Swedish super star Håkan Hellström"s "För sent för Edelweiss," a precious song that has been The Tallest Man"s walk-on music before every performance for over a decade and what inspired the title of this covers album. Since then, in the lead-up to this announcement, he has quietly released other selections, including Lucinda Williams" "Metal Firecracker," Yo La Tengo"s "Tears Are In Your Eyes" and now "Lost Highway." Mattson explains, "When I was a teenager I borrowed a Hank Williams album at the local library, and "Lost Highway" has been haunting me ever since. Many vocal sound checks throughout my career have heard Hank"s advice." As much as Too Late For Edelweiss feels like a scrapbook, an intimate memento with the ghosts of The Tallest Man"s earlier, sparser sound hovering at the edges, it"s also just the artifact of a moment - a flash of joy, of feeling recharged, of feeling good. These are the songs that happened to be in Matsson"s head at the time he sat down to record It came together so simply and easily - and in that way, it"s the purest distillation of making music - and being a fan of it, charting the connective tissue of a songwriter"s life.

The tender and curious songs on the first album by songwriter and preschool teacher Mr Greg and acclaimed indie chameleon Cass McCombs
celebrate the joys of learning and discovery
The pair of longtime friends make connections for young children just beginning
to find their own way in the world and for parents regaining their own childlike
sensibilities. Set to tunes straight from the mold of Ella Jenkins and Woody
Guthrie, the duo sings about the importance of friendship, understanding those
different from yourself, and taking care of your body. They also pay musical
tribute to heroic figures of bravery and justice like Ruth Bader Ginsberg and
Harvey Milk. These songs are bridges to many adventures in the making and
include suggested activities for youngsters to supplement their listening and
exploration.
Coverage in Pitchfork, Stereogum, Under the Radar, Brooklyn Vegan, SPIN, Our
Culture

Joel Paterson has been a mainstay of the Chicago roots music scene for
over twenty years, playing with many bands and showcasing his unique
blend jazz, blues, rockabilly, country and western swing
'Wheelhouse Rag' is a 14- track collection of original rags and country blues on
solo, finger picking acoustic guitar.
The all- acoustic, 1920's- tinged 'Wheelhouse Rag' may at first seem like a
departure in genre for the guitarist - he is predominantly known for his
instrumental multitracked recordings reminiscent of Les Paul and Chet Atkins -
Joel learned to play guitar by ear from the records of acoustic legends such as
Blind Blake, Robert Johnson, Reverend Gary Davis, and Big Bill Broonzy. He later
expanded his repertoire to include techniques of the thumb-picking giants Merle
Travis and Chet Atkins. These influences can be heard throughout the album,
mixed in with many more twists and turns from the mind of the artist, to bring
you, 'Wheelhouse Rag:' the original fingerstyle guitar instrumentals of Joel
Paterson.
Original fingerstyle guitar rag and country blues instrumentals by in-demand
Chicago roots guitarist Joel Paterson, who has played with Cactus Blossoms, JD
McPherson, Kelley Hogan, and more, bringing his unique blend of jazz, blues,
rockabilly, and country & western style to the mix.
RIYL: Les Paul, Chet Atkins, Reverend Gary Davis, Cactus Blossoms, Pokey
LaFarge, Merle Travis
"Guitarist Paterson's free-ranging music defies easy categorization. He addresses
classic country, blues and Tin Pan Alley tunes as timeless works that reward
repeated listening." - Howard Reich, Chicago Tribune"Of all the "vintage" artists
injecting new life into bygone styles with originality and a sense of humor, Joel
Paterson just might top the list." - Dan Forte, Vintage Guitar Magazine

Wewantsounds is delighted to present one of Ennio Morricone's best and least known soundtracks for the 1971 cult French crime film 'Sans Mobile Apparent' directed by Philippe Labro. This superb soundtrack featuring Morricone's classic sound has never been widely available on vinyl save for a small limited edition released under the film's italian title. The set has been remastered from the original tapes with lacquer cut by Frederic Alstadt (Mont Analogue) and gatefold sleeve designed by Eric Adrian Lee. Last but not least Philippe Labro himself has shared his experience in an exclusive interview with Jeremy Allen, discussing the making of the film, working with the Maestro (at only 34 years old) and his amazing career crossing path with Jean Luc Godard, Serge Gainsbourg and Jean-Pierre Melville.

Close your eyes and merge into Benedikt Frey’s 'Fastlane'. Imagine sitting in the driver’s seat of a an automobile, one with exceptional horsepower and torque, as you stare out the windshield at the red light, warping in fata-morgana a mile down the road. It’s a straight-away, a black top with two lanes, and against your better judgment you decide to floor the gas. No hesitation in your muscle, your ankle or the ball of your foot, which you now realize is some kind of universal pivot, the first point of contact fusing your body with the will of machine. In this moment you’re in awe that you, a human, an animal, grew from pond scum into something so advanced as to engineer this thing, a mechanical beast capable of overwhelming power and exhilaration. But you also feel a seductive dread, an outside force diverting you from caution toward a dangling carrot of curiosity, asking yourself, ‘How far can I take this thing?’ The dread, now a constant, is numbed, equalized by an adverse intoxicating gratification. You feel both sensations in real time, however, rather than take responsibility for yourself, friends, family and innocent bystanders, you cement your foot to the floor and lean your head back. Noise around you fades to mute. Smell the benzene-scented air, feel the wind on your face, the menacing vibration of the vessel you control beneath you and every grain of asphalt under its tires. This mile has now lasted an eternity and you’ve left your body for some objective view, as if watching climax of a film. Past the point of no return, you embrace abandon and lean into fate. The film becomes slow motion, a crawling pace so mesmerizing you convince yourself of an option to eject yourself from this madness, but as you finally let go of your last morsel of fear, you run the red light head-on into the nucleus of a fantastic glistening sculpture of torn metal, glass, oil, broken dreams and heartache. 'Fastlane' may be just drum machines and synthesizers if you’re timid, but listen harder and know the catastrophic reality of existence, a wreckage so gruesome we dare not rubberneck, but afterall it is our nature to stare.

Amanaz were serious, and they made a serious stab at an album. They titled their album Africa, according to original band member Keith Kabwe, “because of how it was shared and how its inhabitants were butchered and enslaved, its resources stolen… all the atrocities slave drivers committed. “ Thus, their “Kale,” a blues sung in Nyanja, that traced the continent’s arc from slavery to Zambia’s independence closes the album. Kabwe and rhythm guitarist John Kanyepa have a winsome softness to their vocals, which sit politely aside the feral growl of drummer Watson Baldwin Lungu, bassist Jerry Mausala and bandleader/lead guitarist Isaac Mpofu. Africa’s vibe ranges from anxious (“Amanaz”) to escapist (“Easy Street”) to straight-up pissed-off. On the “History of Man,” his voice whiskeyburned, his distorted guitar buzzing like swarming hornets, Mpofu indicts his species.
There’s a darkness to Africa not found on any other Zamrock records, and a melancholy drifts throughout, specifically on Mpofu’s more restrained “Khala My Friend,” which stands as an effective, bleak situation for the Zambian everyman, the average citizen of a struggling, new nation, who might have had relatives in conflict-torn countries on the horizon, who might have been struggling to find his next meal, who might have seen a bleaker future than his president promised. Then there’s the clear Velvet Underground-influence on the nostalgic “Sunday Morning,” which, as Kabwe
recalls, was the first song written for the album, back in 1968, when Velvet Undergound and Nico was a new release - and the underground funk of “Making The Scene.” The album also tackles traditional Zambian music and early-‘60s rock – punctuated, of course by Kanyepa’s wah-wah and Mpofu’s fuzz guitars. But every time Amanaz get too deep, too violent, they come back with an accessible song and woo their listener back to the groove. “Green Apple” is a civil song, featuring Kanyepa’s sighing guitar. It is a perfectly arranged album, from the dichotomy of Mpofu’s and Kanyepa’s lead and rhythm guitars, to the vocal harmonies, to the rhythm section’s sense of space and time, which allows Africa’s funk to build. Inexplicably, Africa was given two separate mixes and two separate presses: one version is dry, with the vocals and drums mixed loud, the other slathered in reverb, with the vocals and drums disappearing into the mix, and with the guitar solos mixed much louder. We’ve presented them both here as they each have their appeal: it’s up to the listener to pick the one he or she prefers. This is a highpoint of the Zamrock scene and we hope that this can be seen as its definitive reissue.