Suche:le disco

‘Mehldau can truly translate his thoughts and feelings into complex and lasting music. He is one of those people whose brain and fingers and musical ability is all one beautiful entity.’ – Jamie Cullum

Nonesuch Records releases Brad Mehldau’s Jacob’s Ladder on 2 x 140g black vinyl on June 17th . The album features new music that reflects on scripture and the search for God through music inspired by the prog rock Mehldau loved as a young adolescent, which was his gateway to the fusion that eventually led to his discovery of jazz. Featured musicians on the album include Mehldau’s label mates Chris Thile and Cécile McLorin Salvant, as well as Mark Guiliana, Becca Stevens, Joel Frahm, and others. The album’s first single, ‘maybe as his skies are wide’, builds off an interpolation of one portion of Rush’s classic ‘Tom Sawyer’.

Mehldau explains, “We are born close to God, and as we mature, we invariably move further and further away from Him on account of our ego. Jacob’s Ladder begins at that place closer to God with the voice of child, and then moves into the world of action. God is always there, but in our discovery and conquest, and all the joys and sorrows they bring, we may lose sight of him. He sets a ladder before us though, like in Jacob’s dream, and we climb towards him, to find reconciliation with ourselves, to stitch up all those worldly wounds and finally heal. The record ends with my vision of heaven – once again as a child, His child, in eternal grace, in ecstasy.

“The musical conduit on the record is prog,” Mehldau continues. “Prog – progressive rock – was the music of my childhood, before I discovered jazz. It matched the fantasy and science fiction books I read from C.S. Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle and others at that time, aged ten through twelve. It was my gateway to the fusion of Miles Davis, Weather Report, Mahavishnu Orchestra and other groups, which in turn was the gateway to more jazz. Jazz shared with prog a broader expressive scope and larger-scale ambitions than the rock music I had known already.

“The prog from Rush, Gentle Giant, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer here only hints at the genre’s conceptual, compositional and emotional range. These bands and others have continued to influence newer groups that bring prog impulses into the arena of hard rock and screaming math metal, like Periphery, whose music is included here, and also inspired the screaming vocals on ‘Herr und Knecht.’ I tried to avoid a direct tribute approach to all the songs, and opted in some cases for excerpts, or reworking of themes.”

Although Brad Mehldau is best known as a jazz composer and improviser, he has made several albums that fall outside of the mainstream jazz genre, including his 2001 Largo, produced by Jon Brion. Wide-ranging in texture and big in scale, it features woodwind or brass ensembles are on several tracks, as well as a heavy emphasis on powerful drums. In 2010, Nonesuch released his second collaboration with Brion, Highway Rider, which includes performances by Mehldau’s trio – drummer Jeff Ballard and bassist Larry Grenadier – as well as drummer Matt Chamberlain, saxophonist Joshua Redman, and a chamber orchestra led by Dan Coleman. Mehldau also orchestrated and arranged the album’s fifteen pieces for the ensemble.

Mehldau’s 2014 collaboration with Mark Guiliana, Mehliana: Taming the Dragon featured Mehldau on Fender Rhodes and synthesizers and Guiliana on drums and effects, playing twelve original tunes – six by the duo and six by Mehldau. His 2019 album Finding Gabriel featured performances by him on piano, synthesizers, percussion, and Fender Rhodes, as well as vocals. Guest musicians included Ambrose Akinmusire, Sara Caswell, Kurt Elling, Joel Frahm, Mark Guiliana, Gabriel Kahane, and Becca Stevens, among others.

Israeli producer Nenor delivers a 4-tracker of impeccably produced dancefloor weapons for his second outing on Razor-N-Tape.

Since releasing on Moodyman’s legendary Mahogani label a few years back and as part of duo Rabo & Snob, Nenor has been honing his craft in the studio, and now puts his skills on full display on an EP that ranges from the poppy disco house of 'How Can I Be Free' to the deep Larry Heard-esque textures of 'Do You Remember,' and the gritty underground bangers of the title track and 'Work That.' He did indeed take his time on this beautifully crafted record, and the result is something quite special.

Italo disco meets Balearic ethno-funk in the third installment of re-edits from DJ collective Siffleur. Side A is your leftfield, sensual 80s nostalgia, your introspective, post-multiverse ‘club tropicana’. Side B will take you on a dreamy night-journey through city streets where love is a pink neon light.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

AUF TOGO is the long-time collaboration of Sasa Crnobrnja
(from In Flagranti and Mytron & Ofofo) and Clement Cachot-Coulom
(from The Fabulous Penetrators and Big Girls).

After multiple singles and EPs on Leng Records and SaS Recordings, including two collaborative EPs with the tentacular outfit Becker & Mukai, acclaimed by fans and DJs alike, most of their time has been spent writing, recording and bringing to life the 8 amazing tracks that form their debut album “Movements”.

“Movements” follows in the steps of Auf Togo’s previous releases and won’t disappoint the early fans, but it also offers a completely new proposition. Their signature blend of slamming percussion, driving bass lines, psychedelic guitar hooks, fat analogue synths are expertly mixed with new musical ventures across the tracks: from the louche Hawaiian jazz of Along The Dotted Line to the psych-funk of Pan Con Tomate, the electronic wanderings of Mexico to the cinematic intensity of Radical Departures.

The result is a spell-binding summer album, one to listen to on a coastline somewhere under the Mediterranean sun, and one that is not afraid to wear its many influences on its sleeve, from 70s psych-rock to Balearic Beat, Space Disco and Afro Beat. The scope of “Movements” is wide and proves a captivating and gratifying listen.
Debut album from supergroup with members of In Flagranti and Mytron & Ofofo Pressed on 12” vinyl with artwork drawn and designed by Award winning animator Erica Russell UK/EU marketing campaign led by Neighborhood and specialist press/DJ by Your Army, with previous support from Mixmag, Trax, Ransom Note, NTS, Bill
Brewster, Andrew Weatherall and more.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Propulsive tabla percussion and meditative drones collide in deep instrumental conversation on Shruti Dances, the debut collaborative album between UK heavyweights Auntie Flo and Sarathy Korwar, forthcoming on the newly relaunched, Make Music imprint.

Across six exchanges of dynamic electronic production and richly layered Indian classical percussion, Shruti Dances discovers two architects of rhythm and movement on an explorative journey through South Asian tonality and diasporic identity.

One an elemental force on drums, the other on the decks, London-based, Indian-raised drummer/composer, Sarathy Korwar and Scottish-Goan producer/DJ, Auntie Flo first connected back in 2019, unaware both were navigating opposite ends of the beat equilibrium. Where Auntie Flo (aka Brian D’Souza) was new to Korwar’s reimagining of jazz, Indian classical music, electronics and spoken word, Korwar was already a big admirer of Auntie Flo’s intl-facing club output, having first discovered D’Souza’s Rainfall On Red Earth off his Soniferous Garden 12” and 2019 SAY award-winning (Scottish Album of The Year), Radio Highlife. Once properly acquainted, Korwar invited Auntie Flo to remix a track off his landmark 2019 album, More Arriving, described by The Guardian as “a stylistic leap from jazz to hip-hop to spoken word…a protest record encompassing the breadth of immigrant experiences”.

The seeds of an unlikely yet powerful musical bond had been sown and when mutual friend, co-founder of Mixcloud, and Make Music label organiser, Nikhil Shah, asked the duo to inaugurate the label’s new live/electronic direction (previously home to Leon Vynehall, U and George Fitzgerald), Korwar and D’Souza hit the studio. Expanding on early conversations around traditional Indian instrumentation, practicing meditation and improvisation, Shruti Dances (a riff on free dance movement, Ecstatic Dance) was born. Meaning 'that which is heard' in Sanskrit, shruti refers to a note in musical terms, but in this case also references the album’s most prominent influence and instrument, the shruti box.

“The shruti box formed the basis of the sound of the project. It’s a drone instrument, similar to a harmonium, and it makes an amazing sound. I’ve spent the last two years studying sound therapy, and immersing myself in ambient and drone through the Ambient Flo project, and am particularly interested in how they can induce meditative states of consciousness. I was really excited to hear what the Shruti box could do with this EP.” Auntie Flo

Across six tracks, (each named after 6 of the 7 main musical notes in the Indian solfege system), Shruti Dances draws on a celestial mix of traditional percussion and processed digital effects. On opening track Dha, Korwar’s sparse tabla rhythms hop across D’Souza’s scattered, arpeggiated synths, where as on Pa, a Balearic shuffle channels Moroccan Gnawa music and Senegalese sabar meets Mark Ernestus’s Ndagga Rhythm Force. Harmonic speed tabla and roaming drones provide a sense of the ethereal and fourth-worldly on Ma, a track that’s resplendent, curious atmosphere would fit snug into the deep listening-focused programming of Auntie Flo’s Ambient Flo online radio station, a curatorial platform and avenue exploring his interest/promotion of mental health, launched over the UK’s first lockdown. Ni sees Korwar pick up the sticks, thrashing toms in a spirited frenzy, whilst downtempo album closer Sa offers some room for reflection, its slow, swirling chords cloud our focus, leaving us with all but the distant sound of birdsong.

Jan Delay hat im letzten Sommer zusammen mit der Disko No. 1 “Earth, Wind & Feiern” - die Platte für den Club in unserem Herzen - auf die Bühnen dieses Landes gebracht und die Show in Hamburg gleich mitaufgezeichnet. Daraus sind 18 dynamische Live-Tracks voller Bass und Bumms entstanden, die zusammen mit den zwei neuen Studio-Songs „Der Bass & die Gang“ und „Alles gut“ die positiven Vibes zurück in unsere Herzen tragen.

Wie immer bei Jan Delay schöpft “Earth, Wind & Feiern” aus fünf Jahrzehnten Popgeschichte. Vor allem aber spielt die Platte im Hier und Jetzt. In ihr stecken Burna Boy und Stefflon Don, Daft Punk und
Drake, Sly & Robbie und Meek Mill. Es gibt Afrobeats, Disco, Trap und Ska, sogar Stadiontechno und LatinX-Riddims.

“Earth, Wind & Feiern – Live aus dem Hamburger Hafen” ist voll Seele und Bounce und positiver Energie. Denn so bedrückend und komplex die Welt manchmal auch scheinen mag: Ein paar simple Wahrheiten werden nie von ihrer Gültigkeit verlieren. Wenn Hass herrscht, hilft Liebe ganz bestimmt. Und das Wichtigste ist, dass das Feuer nicht aufhört zu brennen. Jan Delay ist wieder zurück, um es am Lodern zu halten.

Das Album erscheint als 2CD im Digipack (Studioalbum inkl. 2 neuer Songs, Live-Album) sowie als schwarze 2LP inkl. magenta 7inch (Live-Album, 2 neue Stuidotracks auf 7inch).

BLEEP was the hype par excellence at the beginning of the techno movement in 1990/91. BLEEP – inspired by the beeping sound of small toy robots – stood for a phase of good mood and sounds that had never existed before. LFO with their groundbreaking track of the same name and Tricky Disco were two protagonists of those happy days.

More than 30 years later, Jürgen Laarmann (editor of the legendary Frontpage Magazine 89-97, promoter of Love Parade and Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) had the thought that nothing is missing in current electronic dance music as much as bleep.

The idea came about when discussing how to create a soundtrack for the art and techno hype of the day and the crypto art moving currenting stirring up the art market. The comeback of bleeps in a new guise is surely a tried and true remedy: the Bleep Gigaverse makes the blockchain shake.

With his old friend and Bash Records buddy Mijk van Dijk, Laarmann developed the NFT anthem with the striking Fazer bullet intro and a fat 2022 bleep that has been extensively tested on post-Corona dancefloors. Club legend Justus Köhncke (Whirlpool Productions among others) himself a big Bleep fan and Laarmann’s neighbor, contributed a house mix. Most recently, they managed to bring the great Michael Wells – the Godfather of Bleep into the Bleep Gigaverse. He contributes as Tricky Disco with all new bleeps and also with a Hardstyle mix, so the EP offers a spectrum with really different mixes.

May it bleep forever now!

By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann
BLEEP war für wenige Monate zum Beginn des Technomovements in 1990/91 der Hype schlechthin. BLEEP – angelehnt an das fiependen Sound von kleinen Spielzeugrobotern – stand für eine Phase guter Laune und Klängen, die es nie zuvor gegeben hatte. LFO mit ihrem bahnbrechenden gleichnamigen Track und Tricky Disco waren zwei Protagonisten jener glücklichen Tage.

Mehr als 30 Jahre später hatte Jürgen Laarmann (Editor des legendären Frontpage Magazins 89-97, Veranstalter von Love Parade und Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) den Gedanken, dass nichts der aktuellen elektronischen Dance Musik so sehr fehlt wie der Bleep.

Die Idee entstand, als man darüber diskutierte, wie man einen Soundtrack für den Kunst- und Technohype dieser Tage erschaffen könnte, jene Kryptokunst, die den Kunstmarkt aufwirbelte. Das Comeback der Bleeps in neuem Gewand ist das probate Mittel: das Bleep Gigaverse lässt die Blockchain erbeben.

Mit seinem alten Freund und Bash Records Kumpel Mijk van Dijk entwickelte Laarmann die NFT Hymne mit dem markanten Fazer-Geschoss Intro und einem fetten 2022er Bleep, der auf den Post-Corona Dancefloors ausgiebig getestet wurde. Club Legende Justus Köhncke (u.a. Whirlpool Productions), selbst großer Bleep Fan und Laarmann‘s Nachbar, steuerte einen housigen Mix bei. Zuletzt gelang es ihnen, mit dem großen Michael Wells den Godfather of Bleep ins Bleep Gigaverse zu holen. Er steuert einen NFT Tricky Disco mit ganz neuen Bleeps und einen Hardstyle Mix bei, so dass die EP ein Spektrum mit wirklich unterschiedlichen Mixen bietet.

May it bleep forever now!

By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann

Batsaykhan is the rebirth of the first project to ever release on Favela Discos, only a few hours after the label’s blogspot was put online back in 2013. Formerly known as Batsaykhantuul, Batsaykhan is not only one of Nuno Oliveira’s alter-egos but also something between a science fiction character and an ancestral spirit doomed to wander the earth in an apparently human physical manifestation.

The first album, Maestro Ir Noras, is a small and simple collection of tracks featuring only guitars and other stringed instruments, the second, being even smaller (only a single track) already seemed to lead us on through the psychedelic desert that would define the sound of the project.

After a long hiatus, Batsaykhan finally emerged from the drawer, or maybe it was from the desert, only to reveal that he had shape-shifted, now taking the form of a trio. With the help of André Azevedo and Tito Silva, Nuno started working on old demos of unpublished compositions and adapting them to the new formation. The trio started the process of refining the songs and the sound of the record, using only a strict selection of synths, percussions, bass and guitar.

They ended up settling down on a terrain of moving sands for those who feel the need to define their sound, between a forest of psychedelia, a river of ambient and the obvious desert that has buried the guitars under its “western” sand.

Batsaykhan’s self-titled release, and the project’s first long play will finally unveil itself on the last day of February, digitally and on 12’’ vinyl, with design and artwork by Rita Laranja.

140g Black vinyl LP – Printed inner sleeve - Sealed plastic sleeve

In Trux We Pux is an editorial project organized by the Porto based label and collective Favela Discos. Focusing on the city’s thriving experimental and improvised music scene, it sets out to portrait in a series of four volumes some of the characteristic sounds and collaborative practices that have been in development in Porto during the last few years.

In Trux We Pux 01, the first record of the collection, is focused on the electronic side of the eclectic but characteristic experimental and improvised scene in Porto, and contains a selection of 23 musicians that have been developing their own take on whatever niche genre they dwell in. Among the list of musicians are Filipe Silva (HHY & The Macumbas), Crónica Electrónica’s heads @c, ocp, coletivo vandalismo and several others that populate a thriving scene that spans a wide gamut of sounds, from delicate to abrasive.

As the tracks themselves, the different approaches to composition and production add to this compilation’s schizophrenia. The first side of the record offers us a spacious and abstract scenery, starting with a collage of field recordings, banjos, and fans, narrated by google translate’s voice. The following two tracks flow along the granular tide of ambient spaces and atmospheres slowing down a bit before the second side turns around 180º and heads towards more rhythmic fields.

Coletivo vandalismo & querido lider present us with their exploration of half balearic, half german-synth-music pulsing away at the beat of broken down dancehallish drums and reggae breaks. Challenger & Lorr No’s track is a trainwreck heading down a break driven jungle that lead us to the album’s closing arguments: MOSCXS’ sludged beat goth-step exploration around the poem “Poema Agreste” by Glória de Sant’Anna.

EALZ! Records & brand new label A.D.S team up to pay tribute to the mysterious bluesman and producer : Cleo Page.

Born in Louisiana, this L.A.-based musician worked with the great Johnny Otis, hang out on Central Avenue’s clubs and possibly jammed with top West Coast bluesmen like Jessie Allen, Pete “guitar” Lewis, Jimmy Nolen, Lafayette Thomas.

Curley Page for some, Sly Williams for others, difficult to follow his career and in definitive, little is known about him despite his “big deal” recently approved by blues specialists : Cleo Page IS the man who wrote and recorded the original Boot Hill, a blues classic covered many times up until now.

Cleo Page who lived in California since 14 years-old has been crossing Blues, Rhythm & Blues and proto-Rock'n'Roll in a personal way. He will run his own labels in the heart of Watts just after the 1965 riots. Those tragic events deeply influenced his laid-back groovy sounds, powerful guitar playing, organ-driven garage Blues with strong political and social messages. Somewhere between the first electric recordings of Howlin' Wolf and… Black Diamond Heavies!

You're about to discover 12 rare tracks probably recorded between late ‘60s and early ‘70s. This brand new release includes the ultra-rare track "Black Man part. 1 & 2".
Material reissued here for the first time in an arty/artisanal trifold Vinyl LP and a bonus Vinyl 7inch

"A Ragged Ghost" is the eighth full-length album from electronic producer Jonas Reinhardt. Following albums on Kranky, Not Not Fun, Constellation Tatsu, and more, his debut release for Trouble In Mind brings together 11 new pieces that explore themes of life & death, netherworlds, and the liminal spaces in between. Taken together as a single narrative, the album offers a stirring exploration of mortality and immortality in what Reinhardt describes as 'a dance of religious syncretism, navigating spaces between the living and the dead'. "A Ragged Ghost" finds him synthesizing influences organically from familiar teutonic strains to the intense austerity of early 21st century electronic pioneers such as Biosphere and Susumu Yokota. A whisper of the Italo-disco-esque romps of Jonas' 2012's "Foam Fangs" EP & 2013's "Mask of The Maker" LP merge with his more kosmische leanings into a sinister, slightly funky, but also studious suite that at times feels like a lost sound library record from the KPM archives. Openers "Ape & The Universal Axis" and "In Lotto Commodore" decidedly sound like a selection from a lost film score while others like the bubbling "Sly Tomb" recall the works of Roedelius or Vangelis' serene soundscapes. Meanwhile, fans of the electro-ambience of Manuel Göttsching's strobe-light, proto-house (on his seminal "E2-E4") or the pulsing insistence of John Carpenter's visceral non-horror scores (i.e. "Escape From New York" or "Assault on Precinct 13") will find a lot to love about songs like "Tumb Tumb" and "Wretched Orchestra of Armistice".

"A Ragged Ghost" is the eighth full-length album from electronic producer Jonas Reinhardt. Following albums on Kranky, Not Not Fun, Constellation Tatsu, and more, his debut release for Trouble In Mind brings together 11 new pieces that explore themes of life & death, netherworlds, and the liminal spaces in between. Taken together as a single narrative, the album offers a stirring exploration of mortality and immortality in what Reinhardt describes as 'a dance of religious syncretism, navigating spaces between the living and the dead'. "A Ragged Ghost" finds him synthesizing influences organically from familiar teutonic strains to the intense austerity of early 21st century electronic pioneers such as Biosphere and Susumu Yokota. A whisper of the Italo-disco-esque romps of Jonas' 2012's "Foam Fangs" EP & 2013's "Mask of The Maker" LP merge with his more kosmische leanings into a sinister, slightly funky, but also studious suite that at times feels like a lost sound library record from the KPM archives. Openers "Ape & The Universal Axis" and "In Lotto Commodore" decidedly sound like a selection from a lost film score while others like the bubbling "Sly Tomb" recall the works of Roedelius or Vangelis' serene soundscapes. Meanwhile, fans of the electro-ambience of Manuel Göttsching's strobe-light, proto-house (on his seminal "E2-E4") or the pulsing insistence of John Carpenter's visceral non-horror scores (i.e. "Escape From New York" or "Assault on Precinct 13") will find a lot to love about songs like "Tumb Tumb" and "Wretched Orchestra of Armistice".

By now counting more than four decades of constant activity, Pierre Bastien erected such a towering and influential body of work that any blurb attempt regarding his music could easily fall into redundancy. Not that his revolving soundworld, deeply personal and unique, has ever stalled into gimmick or self mimicry, being Bastien the tireless explorer whose vision can never be complete, only continuously redefined in a process of discovery equally playful and challenging. So, completely in touch with Discrepant's ethos. 

Returning to the label after 2017 The Mecanocentric Worlds of Pierre Bastien, the french musician, composer and instrument builder, brings an array of instruments from different cartographies and legacies with the appropriately titled Sonic Folkways. Resorting to different types of horns, prepared trumpet, an army of percussion, from gongs and tambourine to castanets and maracas, violin and too many others to mention here, Bastien weaves together a highly textured and hypnotic mosaic that projects an exotica beamed from scraps of the future. 'Aha!' in the same interstellar wavelength as Sun Ra's cosmic tones, 'Moor's Room’ almost orchestral tapestry of small percussion and insects or the non-western strings and tunings salvaged from ancient alien ceremonies on 'Pan's Nap'. 

In an era where so much ink has been shed about world building in experimental music, Bastien can actually claim that to himself. The otherworld is right here, indeed.

40-plus years since its original release, the pop-punk-new wave inventions of Anthony
Moore’s ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ are freshly remastered, blasting the sparkling, angular
sounds into today with perfect vitality.
 After spending the early years of the 1970s making experimental music first as a solo
artist, then with Slapp Happy and Henry Cow, 1976’s ‘OUT’ sessions had reinvigorated
Anthony’s youthful love of the naive pop melodies of pop radio, the undeniable excitement
of songs. While ‘OUT’ ultimately went unreleased at the time, the iconoclasm clouding the
late ’70s air was addictive and transformative for Anthony. England seemed to be roiled
as violently as it had been in counter-cultural days a decade earlier; the UK pop charts
breathlessly reflected the changing spectrum with equal parts aging hippie and prog
delicacies alongside new ascendant sounds: rough-hewn pub and punk rock, plus dub
reggae and disco and ska and Stiff and Krautrock. This proved to be an ideal environment
for Anthony to make records by exploring, as he puts it, the “deep connection between
minimalism, repetition, working with tape and celluloid and forming the modules of a
three-minute pop song.”
 Caught up in a no-holds-barred era, Anthony was more than happy to play the out-of-hishead madman, raving through outrageous exchanges with the press, while ‘Judy Get
Down’ received Single Of The Week honours from the NME (with review penned by Brian
Eno). Represented by Blackhill Enterprises, Anthony did production work throughout
1978-1979, on Kevin Ayers’ ‘Rainbow Takeaway’, Manfred Mann’s Earth Band’s ‘Angel
Station’ and the first This Heat album, meanwhile cutting his own songs on a dead time
deal at Workhouse Studio with engineer / producer Laurie Latham. Through the wee
hours of countless nights, the two pieced together ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, with a little help
from friends (an inspired bunch, including Bob Shilling, Charles Hayward, Chris Slade,
Robert Vogel, Festus, Matt Irving, Sam Harley, Bernie Clark, Edwin Cross and Martine
Moore on the telephone).
 Building upon the axis of pop and experimental impulses that distinguished ‘OUT’, and
informed further by the raw sensibilities exploding everywhere, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
blasts out of the speakers with its own unique blend of sophistication and aggression,
Anthony’s keyboard flashes between arpeggiations and outright stabs among the noise of
slicing guitars, funk basslines and the reverbed blare of the drumkit. Opening with
Anthony’s greatest hit, ‘Judy Get Down’, and containing a noise-laden remake of the
Slapp Happy/Henry Cow number, ‘War’, among other delightful sweet-and-salty
confections, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ never stops moving, fuelled with raw outrage and dark
satirical intent, churning with the energy of next-gen types like Tubeway Army and DEVO,
while shimmering with the elegance of the still-challenging old guard types, like Cale and
Bowie.
 Clearly, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ was steeped in the time, and the original release reflected a
deep mistrust of the corporation mindset. Information was a dubious concept, and
connections to any recognizable organization were seen as untrustworthy, so facts like
musician credits were left out of the package, and even Anthony’s name was altered (he
was credited as A. More on the album and Tony More on a single release). The label
name QUANGO was conceptual as well, standing for ‘Quasi Autonomous NonGovernmental Organization’; each record was sealed with red tape that the listener was
required to cut through in order to get to the music. Rather than recreate the conditions of
the original release of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, this reissue instead embraces the changed
environment of the current time and place: instead of no credits, now they are complete,
with Anthony’s full name restored and even the artwork subtly ‘relocated’ to reflect a new
set of relationships. All of which brings the forward-looking sounds of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
into the more independent-minded 21st Century syntax where it belongs.

Peer through the windows of the sun-dappled homes in Sicily and you will be faced with a small, strange ceramic object adorning each hallway. It is a glistening pine cone standing upright – a pigna – the longstanding symbol of Sicilian openness and welcome hospitality.

The pigna is a delightfully unusual and yet apt symbol for the title of the third record from Benjamin Harris, AKA Yarni. Ever since his debut LP release in 2017, Yarni has established a following committed to his musical openness, an intuitive curiosity that has spanned everything from house and techno to cinematic ambience and Japanese percussion, as well as jazz horns and afrobeat fanfares. For Yarni, anything goes and everyone is welcome. Now, Pigna sees Yarni reach his fullest and most musically diverse expression, taking its name and ethos from Sicily, but finding a sonic home in the luscious orchestration of a new ensemble of musicians.

Here, at the helm of a nine-person ensemble, Yarni artfully pieces together live improvisations to create the warmth of a seasoned group performing deep within the groove. Opener “Midnight Getaway” places the listener squarely within the disco-funk of Daft Punk as Yarni’s top-line synth intersects with a rolling bassline and a lyrical flute solo from Rachel Shirley. This optimistic tone of sunlit spaciousness is then heightened on “Utopia”, as Yarni’s horn section comes to the fore to pay homage to the ineffable syncopations of Fela Kuti’s pioneering afrobeat.

Rather than scratch at the surface of these musical genres, Yarni’s attuned ear embodies the emotive essence of his various sounds by paying intimate attention to their creation. There is the punch of that afrobeat sax on “Utopia”; the rhythmic skitter of breakbeats on “The Astral”; the sludging thump of funk in the bassline on “Nova”. Collaborators are given free reign, too, to incorporate their own unique stylings into this remarkable whole, from vocalist Emily Marks’ languid tone on “In A Dream”, to saxophonist Jonoa’s innate swing on “Cherub”, and the metronomic movement of bassist Ally McMahon’s playing throughout.

Listening to Pigna is ultimately to find yourself squarely within the comforting embrace of Yarni’s musical mind. It is a truly LP experience – a record to be placed on the turntable’s platter and then left to play, allowing yourself an immersion in these journeying soundscapes. It is no wonder fellow sonic travellers such as the late Andrew Weatherall and DJ Harvey have been supporters of Yarni’s work, since here is a kindred spirit – an artist shaped in the form of radical openness, speaking the hospitable, universal language of beautiful music.

Peer through the windows of the sun-dappled homes in Sicily and you will be faced with a small, strange ceramic object adorning each hallway. It is a glistening pine cone standing upright – a pigna – the longstanding symbol of Sicilian openness and welcome hospitality.

The pigna is a delightfully unusual and yet apt symbol for the title of the third record from Benjamin Harris, AKA Yarni. Ever since his debut LP release in 2017, Yarni has established a following committed to his musical openness, an intuitive curiosity that has spanned everything from house and techno to cinematic ambience and Japanese percussion, as well as jazz horns and afrobeat fanfares. For Yarni, anything goes and everyone is welcome. Now, Pigna sees Yarni reach his fullest and most musically diverse expression, taking its name and ethos from Sicily, but finding a sonic home in the luscious orchestration of a new ensemble of musicians.

Here, at the helm of a nine-person ensemble, Yarni artfully pieces together live improvisations to create the warmth of a seasoned group performing deep within the groove. Opener “Midnight Getaway” places the listener squarely within the disco-funk of Daft Punk as Yarni’s top-line synth intersects with a rolling bassline and a lyrical flute solo from Rachel Shirley. This optimistic tone of sunlit spaciousness is then heightened on “Utopia”, as Yarni’s horn section comes to the fore to pay homage to the ineffable syncopations of Fela Kuti’s pioneering afrobeat.

Rather than scratch at the surface of these musical genres, Yarni’s attuned ear embodies the emotive essence of his various sounds by paying intimate attention to their creation. There is the punch of that afrobeat sax on “Utopia”; the rhythmic skitter of breakbeats on “The Astral”; the sludging thump of funk in the bassline on “Nova”. Collaborators are given free reign, too, to incorporate their own unique stylings into this remarkable whole, from vocalist Emily Marks’ languid tone on “In A Dream”, to saxophonist Jonoa’s innate swing on “Cherub”, and the metronomic movement of bassist Ally McMahon’s playing throughout.

Listening to Pigna is ultimately to find yourself squarely within the comforting embrace of Yarni’s musical mind. It is a truly LP experience – a record to be placed on the turntable’s platter and then left to play, allowing yourself an immersion in these journeying soundscapes. It is no wonder fellow sonic travellers such as the late Andrew Weatherall and DJ Harvey have been supporters of Yarni’s work, since here is a kindred spirit – an artist shaped in the form of radical openness, speaking the hospitable, universal language of beautiful music.

Purple Vinyl

A Leftfield journey of rockin' sleezy disco edits! It feels like something weird and sinister is going to happen from the moment you drop the needle and keeps that energy throughout. Limited Heavy weight colored vinyl. Fans of DJ HARVEY, RON HARDY, PATRICK COWLEY and THEO PARRISH take notice