quête:less is more

Hello Spiral returns to the same North London block, the same triangulated geometry of balconies and courtyard, but with a shift of orientation. His previous record looked outward from the eighth floor, these four new recordings move inside, into the building’s arteries. Joe explores the hallways of the complex where he has lived and listened for years, using the same tool as before, an iPhone and its voice memo app. The recordings were made in situ, each exactly eleven minutes, captured without ceremony.

The hallways feel different. Less private, less scenic, more neutral. They are the connective tissue between hundreds of domestic units, a space of transit rather than rest. The carpet absorbs certain frequencies. The fire doors catch and release pockets of air. The lights hum. Elevators drone in soft cycles of arrival and departure. These are the institutional sounds of shared living, yet once recorded they begin to behave strangely. A kind of internal weather appears.

As with the previous album, Joe remains attentive to what is often overlooked, irrelevant or discarded. The hallways, with their scuffs and signage, their coded access and polite functionalism, provide an unexpectedly rich field. The ambience is not shaped by storms or scaffolding, not by birds or street spill. Instead the material is the building’s own breath, its mechanical rhythms, the low frequency traces of neighbours, the occasional shuffle of footsteps that pass but do not return.

Joe talks about this record as a possible middle chapter in a trilogy. If so, it sits between the exposed openness of the balcony and whatever comes next. A hinge point. These recordings continue Joe’s long practice of defamiliarization, sharpening attention to the unnoticed while withholding narrative. They invite repeated listening, not for revelation, but for the subtle shifts that occur when a familiar space is treated as an instrument.

“My auntie asked me what’s my path?” spits Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon on his debut from the celebrated Lex Records. The lyric relatably references the cross roads he’s at in his current life, especially as someone right on the cusp of rap stardom. “Recently I’ve been thinking more and more about what comes next in my life,” the artist reveals.


It’s fair to say Ogbon’s Lex LP features less of the sh*t-talking court jester of old. Instead, there’s more of an imperfect man re-examining past mistakes so he can avoid any future forks in the road. There’s a particular focus on overcoming heartbreak, inspiring Ogbon to admit he’s haunted by an ex so badly he now needs to call up the Ghostbusters for assistance.

Since emerging in the late 2010s, Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon has consistently lit up America’s underground rap scene and this is thanks to a refreshingly honest writing style. Amid the exquisitely wavy strings of 2021’s The Missing Link / The Sneaky Link, for example, he rapped: “Everyone thinks they’re player, until their bitch doesn’t come home.” Biting and snappy, the nasally vocals carry the playful verve of comedian Richard Pryor bravely excavating personal Demons to solicit giggles.

All this brash, wry Redman-inspired storytelling continues on the new project. Its first single is titled I’m Signed to Lex, Now I’m Up – a name that mirrors what a big moment releasing a project on the label that once housed MF DOOM represents for Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon’s legacy. “I’m really driven by being able to level up and give my family more financial freedom,” he hopes.
And, if auntie asked what his path was right now, what exactly would the rapper say? Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon concludes: “Auntie: this rapping thing feels like it’s finally about to pay off!”

Two years after their debut on Berlin-based Mannequin Records, Parisian duo Leroy Se Meurt returns with their second full-length album, Hier Pour Toujours. Far from any sense of nostalgia, this record offers no illusion of hope—history repeats itself, the future looks bleak, and their brand of electronic punk is the perfect soundtrack to it all.Drum machines dictate the pace while synths saturate the space, looping sequences grind relentlessly, and vocals lead this machine orchestra straight into the heart of the chaos. Drawing from their roots, Leroy Se Meurt pushes their fierce electronics further than ever—experimenting with bold slogans, spoken passages, and powerful sing-along choruses.The album opens with Pas Ma Croix, a commanding anthem built for the stage. It flows into Du Plafond à La Terre, driven by a monstrous electro beat and bassline, flirting with emotional vulnerability in its chorus before exploding into a synth solo. Alevlere Karşı once again taps into the duo’s EBM-meets-Turkish vocals signature style, hitting the mark with dancefloor precision.The title track, Hier Pour Toujours, closes side A with a more intimate, drumless moment—solemn but no less intense.That brief calm is shattered by Déviance, marking the return of guitars and an eruptive chorus brimming with raw energy. From there, the album launches into the furious Révolte Ardente, with its syncopated rhythm and vocals drenched in distortion, and continues with Pro Déclin, a stripped-down rhythmic skeleton carrying anti-growth mantras straight to the point. In a world clouded by confusion, the most direct messages often land the hardest.For a change of scenery, Fütürsüz dives into John Carpenter-esque territory—no drums, eerie night-streaked synths, and, for the first time in the band’s history, nearly clean vocals.Closing the record, Encore crawls at a BPM so slow it’s nearly in reverse. But what it lacks in speed, it makes up for in weight—a crushing incantation capable of toppling sound systems.With Hier Pour Toujours, Leroy Se Meurt isn’t offering optimism, but rather persistence. Nothing is settled yet—and perhaps, just perhaps—there’s still light at the end of the tunnel.

The frankly ridiculous Burnski is back as Instinct with more face-melting garage and bassline slammers that update the classic sound with just the right amount of evolution. All of these on his latest for his self-title label are 10/10 weapons: 'Halt' is hurried, swinging and syncopated to perfection. 'Choose One' is less streamlined; instead, there are warped and squelchy lines, bursts of static and a more futuristic twist getting you going. 'Crazy' brings brilliantly chosen and well-deployed samples to the fore over a beat that harks back to percussive UK funky at its finest. The flip side offers a trio of slick bouncers, body-popping movers and brightly lit vibes. Superb.

“The GRILL will fucking rule things…” – Backengrillen’s debut album out in January "Backengrillen's music is a paean to chaos and destruction. The basic idea is to take a death/doom metal, or noiserock riff and play it until it loses meaning and then break it apart like a ravenous cat would a tiny forest mouse. It's filled to the brim with the self-hatred endemic to the province of Västerbotten from whence the member’s hail. The record was written on a Thursday during their first ever rehearsal, performed live on a Friday and recorded on a Saturday, so what you're hearing is raw, stupid, gut instinct music played by seasoned purveyors of hardcore punk, metal, free jazz, noise et cetera. Record no 2 is in the making, less stupid, more ugly. Stay tuned and fuck the pigs." - Backengrillen, November 2025 Backengrillen is a new ensemble with their roots in HC, punk, noise and free Jazz. All members from Umeå, with roots in the original version of Refused – and one with starting points in the jazz-rock ensemble Nirvana (1980). With a solid and yet varied background in the creativities of Refused, TEXT, INVSN, Fire Orchestra, The International Noise Conspiracy, The End, Serpent, The Thing, Final Exit and other classic jazz combos we will now start our journey of 4 colliding locomotives, creating a new form of beauty and energy. Antifascist, antiracists free form death – jazz – in the memory of Lars Lystedt – Backengrillen arrives with new perspectives on jazz. And punk. In-your-face HC jazz inspired by The Cramps, Little Richard, Albert Ayler, Polly Bradfield, Entombed, John Zorn, Misfits, Stooges, Lars Gullin, Can and much more. Backengrillen’s self-titled debut album is out on January 23rd, 2026 on vinyl, CD, and digitally on Bandcamp via Svart Records. Backengrillen Dennis Lyxzén – vocal and effects Mats Gustafsson – saxophones, flutes and live electronics Magnus Flagge – bass David Sandström – drums and electronics

“The GRILL will fucking rule things…” – Backengrillen’s debut album out in January "Backengrillen's music is a paean to chaos and destruction. The basic idea is to take a death/doom metal, or noiserock riff and play it until it loses meaning and then break it apart like a ravenous cat would a tiny forest mouse. It's filled to the brim with the self-hatred endemic to the province of Västerbotten from whence the member’s hail. The record was written on a Thursday during their first ever rehearsal, performed live on a Friday and recorded on a Saturday, so what you're hearing is raw, stupid, gut instinct music played by seasoned purveyors of hardcore punk, metal, free jazz, noise et cetera. Record no 2 is in the making, less stupid, more ugly. Stay tuned and fuck the pigs." - Backengrillen, November 2025 Backengrillen is a new ensemble with their roots in HC, punk, noise and free Jazz. All members from Umeå, with roots in the original version of Refused – and one with starting points in the jazz-rock ensemble Nirvana (1980). With a solid and yet varied background in the creativities of Refused, TEXT, INVSN, Fire Orchestra, The International Noise Conspiracy, The End, Serpent, The Thing, Final Exit and other classic jazz combos we will now start our journey of 4 colliding locomotives, creating a new form of beauty and energy. Antifascist, antiracists free form death – jazz – in the memory of Lars Lystedt – Backengrillen arrives with new perspectives on jazz. And punk. In-your-face HC jazz inspired by The Cramps, Little Richard, Albert Ayler, Polly Bradfield, Entombed, John Zorn, Misfits, Stooges, Lars Gullin, Can and much more. Backengrillen’s self-titled debut album is out on January 23rd, 2026 on vinyl, CD, and digitally on Bandcamp via Svart Records. Backengrillen Dennis Lyxzén – vocal and effects Mats Gustafsson – saxophones, flutes and live electronics Magnus Flagge – bass David Sandström – drums and electronics

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

At the end of the Sixties, the production of soundtracks for small and big classics of Italian cinema is now joined by another business which has proved to be less profitable but more creative and, in best case, free from the constraints imposed by clients on duty: the composition of music libraries. Almost all of the artists for the eighth art have finalized at least one or more music libraries. Names famous and not, old and young composers, real outsiders and meteors, usually hidden behind pseudonyms: this is the case, for example, of Braen and Peymont. The first needs no introduction, it was the one adopted by the former arranger, multi- instrumentalist, singer and composer Alessandro Alessandroni. The second is closely linked to the mysterious American composer, but resident in Italy, David Hoyt Kimball. The two are authors in different measure of an interesting album with an experimental background, “Paese Sotto Inchiesta” (1971), originally published by Flirt Records.

The titles of the tracks appear in connection with the socio-cultural climate of Italy after 1968 and can be relocated as a background for journalistic-like images. The latter is a hypothesis not supported by facts, but some titles seem to be referred to the perception of a subsisting economic backwardness of the southern regions compared to the other ones; to a situation of collective tension, thanks to the global revolutions; in addition to the new concerns with an ecological background. Overall, the seventeen tracks on the album are mostly 'dirty', characterized by an even atonal setting, with long repetitions in a noisy key, more fundamental reverbs and echoes for the different keyboard instruments. In a few words, abstract sounds, some guitar notes, echoes of Gruppo Di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, flute melodies and proto- ambient intuitions. Composers like Alessandro Alessandroni and David Hoyt Kimball deserve to be rediscovered.

*Following the essence of the work, for this press, MPI release a 100% recycled vinyl that reduce waste, minimize environmental impact and support the planet*

Whilst YTM is at home presenting dancefloor focussed material, we see him explore the other side too, with "Memory Is A Clock" like the earlier "Vortix", he ditches the 4x4 for breakbeat territory. Whilst the bass keeps the solid metronome you would expect, "Memory Is A Clock" is a track that takes a few moments, contemplative melody and trademark arpeggios take the lead. When it comes to the other collaborations on the record, the appearance of Brame And Hamo on "Raver's Heart Is A Mess" sees them lean into the Progressive nature both artists love so much. Then Pablo Bozzi lends his own unique outlook to "We Don't Know The Way, We Just Stay" in one of the standout tracks, epitomising Younger Than Me’s ability to create profound experiences.

The album concludes with "Music Will Never Stop, Heartbeat Will Never Fade, Party Will Never End", less of a title and more of a personal philosophy – the perpetual essence of rave culture and its timeless impact on music. A rhythmic belter, juxtaposed with incendiary synth-lines and staple catchy sequence work, finishing the record with one of the true highpoints. In addition the release also features four digital bonus tracks, including "The Other Face Of Loneliness" and a Prog Dance Reshape of one of the records more eclectic cuts "Zarathustra Dance" all offering an extended exploration into the creative landscape YTM inhabits.

London label Only Music Matters rolls out more mysterious goodness here from another unknown artist. On this evidence, they like the afters and the moments in the night when time and space dissolve and subtly rule. 'AAA001A' is an elastic, dubby minimal tech cut with liquid pads and trippy vocal twist while the next cut is speedier but no less supple. This cosmic odyssey is marbled with vocal fragments, prickly acid and deft percussion and it all weaves endlessly while hypnotising perfectly. 'BBB002B' is more sparse and roomy, with grubby bass ripples and glitchy electronics colouring the groove. Priku and Arapu have already dropped this one to great receptions at Sunwaves 36 so if it's good enough for them...

Recorded in the wake of Dr. King's assassination, this 1969 single from Mississippi-born, Chicago-raised Syl Johnson stands as one of the starkest and most soul-wrenching protest songs ever committed to tape. Built around a slow, smouldering groove and the raw ache of Johnson's vocal, 'Is It Because I'm Black' is less a call to arms than a question hung in the air-resigned, frustrated, defiant. The Pieces of Peace deliver a restrained but deeply felt arrangement: skeletal drums, moody bass, mournful horns, all circling Johnson's voice like a sermon in minor key. What could feel like despair instead pulses with something tougher-dignity, clarity, and a refusal to shut up. The record would later be sampled by Wu-Tang and reinterpreted in Jamaica, but nothing quite matches the grit and sorrow of the original. A landmark in American soul music, whispered more than shouted.

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

Supergroups existed before Emerson, Lake & Palmer formed in 1970. And, as we all know well, many came after. But few, if any, matched the English trio’s chemistry and its elevated combination of virtuosity, vision, and verve. Having influenced a multitude of followers, ELP’s prowess was obvious from the start. The band’s self-titled debut stands as a towering statement of creative imagination, execution, and discipline more than five decades after its original release.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM LP of Emerson, Lake & Palmer presents the benchmark album in audiophile sound. Clear, dynamic, and balanced, this collectible edition honors the perfectionist approaches that both informed the playing and recording of the record.

Distinguished with black backgrounds, this reissue brings to light the epic scope, tonal depth, and mind-bending degrees of musicianship on display. Aspects — textures, nuances, effects, melodies, tempo changes — that go hand-in-hand with the trio’s compositions and interplay are rendered amid broad soundstages and delivered with pinpoint detail. Whether you’ve owned multiple copies of this touchstone or seeking out your first version, you’ll relish the presence, separation, imaging, and crispness that help make every song come across as if the group has set up shop in your listening space.

Opening the door to the seemingly infinite possibilities of progressive rock while steering clear of excess, Emerson, Lake & Palmer achieved a rare feat in that its complex, cerebral music didn’t prevent it from attaining mainstream success. The gold-certified effort launched the career of a band that would sell tens of millions of records. It also landed a Top 50 single in the form of the ballad “Lucky Man,” whose vocal harmonies, folksy strumming, multi-tracked instrumentation, and breakthrough Moog solo almost feel quaint in the face of the other fare on the album.

Comprised of genre-defying originals and hybrid arrangements of two classical pieces, the album Rolling Stone originally and rightly said is “best heard as a whole” matches outrageous ambition with the otherworldly skills of three musicians who remain among the finest to ever pick up their respective instruments. While Emerson soon drew the lion’s share of headlines for his ability on keys — clavinet, Moog, piano, Hammond organ, and pipe organ included — Greg Lake’s aptitude on guitar and bass, along with well as Carl Palmer’s monster talents behind the kit, created a three-headed hydra that devoured everything in front of it.

That extends to the radical reinterpretation of Bela Bartok’s “The Barbarian” that begins the LP, a performance that in less than four-and-a-half minutes runs the gamut from distorted to churchy to angular and blustery. More classical flourishes, keyboard wizardry, hard-rock heaviness, and gothic signatures emerge throughout “Knife-Edge,” which reimagines music by Leos Janacek and J.S. Bach — and ultimately invites you to explore a cathedral of sound teeming with separate bursts of keys and percussion.

And did someone say “drumming”? Check out Palmer’s monster salvo on “Tank,” a rhythmic showcase that marches out with knee-bent notes and mirror-reflected passages. Or dive into the mythological suite “The Three Fates.” Replete with three parts and Emerson playing the pipe organ at Royal Festival Hall, it shoots off sonic fireworks via sophisticated arpeggios, jazz improvisations, dancing counter-meters, sizzling chords, and a few explosions. Please don’t hold anyone at MoFi responsible if your system cannot handle it; this is heady stuff.

Indeed, everything on Emerson, Lake & Palmer is there for a purpose. Whether you aim to attempt to dissect all of the notes, shifts, and polyrhythmic bluster or just want to absorb this album as one living, breathing organism, this version invites you to do both as many times as you desire.

To celebrate the twentieth anniversary of their debut album ‘Employment’ (usually commemorated with the gift of china), Kaiser Chiefs are making three new expanded ‘China Anniversary’ formats available. The 1LP edition is pressed on white vinyl, and includes ‘bonus’ track ‘Take My Temperature’. Remastered at Abbey Road Studios.


Originally released in March 2005, ‘Employment’ peaked on the UK album chart at No. 2, and has since spent more than 17 months on the Top 40, selling more than 2.1 million copies in the process, and being certified 7 x Platinum status by the British Phonographic Industry. Similarly successful across Europe, the album’s longevity was aided by the hits singles ‘Oh My God’, ‘I Predict A Riot’, ‘Everyday I Love You Less And Less’ and ‘Modern Way’, and a series of triumphant performances that established Kaiser Chiefs as a ‘must see’ live act, building a loyal fanbase that stays with them today.

This is the first new Andy Boay album since 2013’s In The Light. I recorded it in January 2024 to a Yamaha MT8X 8-track cassette recorder in my room at the New York Center for Creativity & Dance in the East Village of Manhattan.

I mixed it in June 2024 with Joe Santarpia and Roberto Pagano at the Idiot Room in San Francisco. The three songs on Side A (“HBM,” “If I Ever Come Off,” and “You’re In The Air Now”) were initially arranged over several live performances using a multi-track looper. When I then sat down to track them to my tape machine, I meticulously sang and played out all repeating parts, layering and ping-pong-bouncing each doubled take to another tape-track. In this way I hoped to maintain the hypnotic quality of the looped parts while keeping them organic, singular, and fleeting. Side B is a triptych of more carefully arranged pop songs: a tremolo & mod-delay elegy to youth called “Careless,” bookended by two variations on the same theme — the stark, mellotron prayer of “One & One” and the lonesome after-hours funk of “I Want More”. The line “You took that walk for the two of us” has a dual meaning. In 2011, my friend Spencer Gilley took a long walk through Montreal while listening to demos I’d recorded.

He described the experience to me as magical, ecstatic, inspiring. His encouragement from that moment still echoes every time I sit down to write or record. Less than a year later, I met Florida musician Thomas Fekete. We formed a deep, brief friendship that lasted until his death in 2016. Thom entered my life during a chaotic time and helped me find direction and courage. He took me on a tour that shifted the course of my life. We bonded over surviving cancer as young men, Florida’s noise scene, and the strange lives we led as touring guitarists (he in Surfer Blood, me in Mac DeMarco’s band). Thom could always warmly anticipate all of my joy, humor, and curiosity—and all of my pain, anxiety, and fear. In this way, it felt like he was also taking that walk for the two of us—gently guiding me down a path he had already traveled. Andy Boay (Andy White) began playing and recording music as a teen in Orlando during the early 2000s, exploring noise, psych, and pop in bands and solo projects.

He has played in the duo Tonstartssbandht with his brother Edwin since 2007. He spent six years playing guitar in the touring band for Mac DeMarco. Andy Boay’s music taps the euphoric and the sorrowful, both onstage amongst friends and strangers, and tracking alone at his 8-track in the studio. These days he lives and works in the East Village neighborhood of New York City.

Joel Shearer’s Listening Immerses Itself in Ambient Guitar, Restraint, and the Beauty of Repetition

With guitarist and ambient composer Joel Shearer’s new album, Listening, he took the path of repetition, subtle movement, and pure sound rather than conventional songwriting. What began as a disciplined experiment — limiting himself to just electric guitar — soon expanded. At various points, he introduced piano, cello, and trumpet, allowing the record to evolve organically. "I didn’t know I was making another record,” Shearer says. “I was experimenting, wanting to do something beyond just the electric guitar. So, I started these other tracks, and that’s how Listening came about.”

Unlike albums built around hooks or dramatic shifts, Listening unfolds gradually, moving with patience and restraint. There are no choruses, no obvious climaxes — just sound evolving over time. “Instead of a traditional song structure with a verse, chorus, or B section, it’s one continuous movement that grows and dissolves,” Shearer explains. “It’s not about anticipating the next moment—it’s about sitting inside the sound, getting comfortable with patience.” A Topanga-based session musician, composer, and producer, Shearer’s previous solo albums, Morning Loops and Hours, explored the manipulation of only the electric guitar, using texture and repetition to push beyond conventions. Listening continues that journey, offering music that resists distraction and rewards deep attention.

Shearer recorded Listening without a click track, working in long, freeform takes. His shimmering, clean guitar tones—often unrecognizable, processed through looping pedals and effects—became a foundation, with layers of sound building around it. “I love making the guitar sound like anything but a guitar,” he says. “I might play for just a minute, but once the sound enters the effects chain, it takes on a life of its own. The music keeps evolving, stretching time in ways I couldn’t predict.”

The opening piece, “Big Sur,” is an 11-minute meditation that drifts in slow, hypnotic waves, its layered guitar textures sparkling like light over water. The piece moves without urgency, subtly transforming as it pulls the listener deeper into its atmosphere. “Threshold” features a delicate piano melody that gradually unfurls, allowing its essence to fully settle before the next emerges. Subtle layers of ambient guitar weave around the piano, stretching and dissolving into the background, creating a sense of stillness and slow expansion.

At nearly 15-minutes, “The Clear Light of the Void” is a slow-burning study in sustain and resonance. Layers of guitar stretch and dissolve into an open, drifting soundscape, each note lingering and shifting like a breath held in suspension. Subtle tonal variations emerge over time, creating a sense of vastness—an expanse where sound is less about movement and more about presence.

“The world is noisy—so much information, so much distraction,” Shearer says. “I wanted to create something that allows people to just be present with the sound, without expectation.” It’s an album that demands nothing from the listener but offers space — to focus, to drift, to listen without waiting for what comes next.

'In collaboration with the children of Nico Kasanda, better known as Docteur Nico, Planet Ilunga proudly presents an anthology dedicated to African Fiesta Sukisa, available as a 3LP set and a digital release with bonus songs. This release is the result of many years of preparations and was realized in close partnership with Liliane Kasanda, Nico’s eldest daughter. Marking forty years since his passing, we felt that the year 2025 was the right time to honor Docteur Nico’s legacy with this original collection.
'Almost all of the African Fiesta Sukisa songs were released on Nico’s Sukisa label which translates in Lingala for “the final accomplishment”. The music on Sukisa, crafted by Nico and legendary vocalists such as Chantal, Sangana, Apôtre, Mizele, Lessa Lassan and Josky, embodies the essence of that powerful phrase with genius, class and depth. The label ran between 1966 and 1975 and released approximately 280 songs. Ngoma also issued the group between 1967 and 1971 and, in addition, reissued material from the Sukisa label. Many of these songs have become part of the collective memory of Congolese society and are still heard, discussed, and analyzed daily across digital platforms worldwide, as well as on numerous Congolese radio and TV stations.
'The album we put together features some of Nico’s signature songs alongside never before reissued tracks from the Sukisa catalog. It furthermore contains a large booklet with song commentary, testimonial interviews from well-known musicians, journalists, fans and Nico’s entourage, besides never before published photography about his personal and musical life.
'Alastair Johnston, author of the book ‘A Discography of Docteur Nico’ and longstanding Planet Ilunga collaborator, designed a stylish booklet and cover using all our collected material. Audifax Bemba, longtime admirer, compiler and connoisseur of Nico’s music, and the author of most of the song commentary in our accompanying booklet, offers his portrait of Docteur Nico:
“After displaying technical virtuosity with African Jazz, expert and accomplished guitar with African Fiesta, which musicologist Sylvain Bemba described as a dream guitar, Nico Kasanda was consecrated ‘dieu de la guitare’ by the public in the late sixties. With his band African Fiesta Sukisa, Docteur Nico displays his wide palette of unusual sounds. While exploring the Hawaiian guitar with its clear, airy, plangent, psychedelic effluvia, he continues to replicate the piano comping technique, and adds two missing strings to his bow: a simulation of the sanza (likembé or thumb piano), whose sounds he reproduces right down to the noisemakers of the tiny tin rings, on the one hand, and the sounds of the Luba balafon on the other. The right note, in the right place, at the right time, is the triptych on which Nico Kasanda’s playing is based, a note dressed in the perfect sound. A guitar of pure emotion. With African Fiesta Sukisa, his playing takes a ‘Chopin-esque’ turn, sending out more notes in a sublime adagio. The true artist is the one who simplifies everything. Docteur Nico is a genius of our time, whose style makes him the supreme exponent of the most important guitar school in Congolese music. He is recognized by his peers as the greatest African solo guitarist of all time. Sculpting sound in a tireless quest for beauty, Nico Kasanda has sublimated the guitar throughout his career.”






























[xd] Kamulangu [Outro] (Dr. Kasanda – Sukisa 135) Folklore Baluba

US Black Friday 2025 Release. There are very few albums in the psych/punk/hard rock/private presses strata that garner the sort of universal awe and accolades that Fraction’s almighty Moonblood LP does, and even fewer records in the world that could be dubbed ‘Christian Rock’ incur such fierce devotion. Indeed some records just meteorically lift themselves out any genre tag with brilliance and sheer defiance--and Moonblood is surely one of them. Based in LA, Fraction was a ragged collection of working-class musicians--the line-up was ringleader Jim Beach--vocals; Don Swanson--lead guitar, Curt Swanson--drums, Victor Hemme--bass, and Robert Meinel--rhythm guitar. Beach himself describes those early days: “The guys met through various acquaintances that we had in LA. All of us had been in bands before, but were seeking something with more teeth. We had a small studio in an industrial complex in North Hollywood and started practicing sometimes as early as 4:30 AM. We all had day jobs, so we did what we could.”

Amazingly the recording sessions for the album were recorded similarly on the fly, as Beach further states: “The Moonblood recording took place at Whitney’s Studio in Glendale, CA, early in 1971. On a strict budget, these songs were recorded in less than three hours—all of them “one takes.” We played, all 5 of us, simultaneously-- there were no studio effects, no overdubbing or any additional sound effects added. Basically what you hear is considered ‘old school’ recording.”

This workmanlike description in no way prepares one for the pure tortured genius the session wrought. Particularly noteworthy is Beach’s vocals—as commonly stated, the spirit of Jim Morrison is conjured in his deep baritone, which gives way to unparalleled pained howls, at times bathed in delay which trails into the abyss. Fascinatingly enough, Beach cites the much punker Love as his fave LA band over the Doors, and also gives influence-nods to proto-everything rockers The Yardbirds and to Dylan, whose dark word tapestries surely inspired Beach’s lyrics (though lines from The Doors’ “L’America” pop up on the LP) Whatever the case, the man clearly has a vision, as even the stark sleeve concept is Beach’s own. Equally as integral to the Fraction sound is lead guitarist Don Swanson—his blown-out fuzz riffs set a template for what is now commonly known as “stoner rock” or “acid punk,” and his solos consist of jagged, wah-wah-ed shards of notes, with his amplifier clearly pushed to the limit.

Beach says: “Don’s guitar was always my driving force and he did everything he could to keep it over the top. You’d never know that (his sound) was coming from an old, broken down Esquire. Don kept it alive!” The other members contributions shouldn’t be underappreciated though-- drummer Curt Swanson keeps things at a constant simmer, and then boils over when the whole band launches into snarling glory. The band and LP as a whole equals something indescribably intense from start to finish—comparisons to the Detroit late 60s high-energy bands like The Stooges and MC5 abound, as well as the sort of late 60s damaged spirit lurking in biker clubs and disgruntled Vietnam vets. The song cycle on side 1 of the LP in particular cuts to the emotional core, with severely charged dark lyrics like “Extend your thumbs and burn the darkness out of her.” Which brings us to the Christian aspect--it often can confuse listeners. The Fraction/Beach world of religion is complex and perhaps a bit pagan/sinister than most---fire and brimstone, temptation, and the truth-seeker being burned by this hell on earth—or perhaps as Beach himself best put it: “Speaking for myself, as a believer, it’s been a progressive experience since my childhood.

I think we’re all basically driven to live more than religion.” The album was pressed in a run of but a few hundred to little attention in the day, but now inferior bootlegs flood the marketplace, and originals of Moonblood command thousands of dollars. So enjoy this all-inclusive reissue, which also features for the first time on vinyl, 3 lost tracks-- like the more acoustic-minded “prisms” and “dawning light,” as well as the proto-metal choogle of “Intercessor’s Blues.”

From 1968 through to the mid 1970’s the reggae beat began to slow down,some say due to the extreme heat hitting down onto Kingston Town and its surrounding enclaves. People needed something less strenuous to dance to. The Ska and Rocksteady Sounds (see 101 Orange Street KS007) that rocked Jamaica previously, had now found a slower tempo and become more ‘Dread’ lyrically to suit the times. Reggae music has always moved within the social climate it found itself in and this set here, as we ‘Return To Orange Street’ was ROOTS ROCK REGGAE TIME....

The Rastafarian message that runs through this collection of ‘Reality’, sometimes labelled ‘Sufferers’ music,is strong and works on many levels. It can come across on a heavy rhythm and vocal cut. Its example represented here by Prince Jazzbo’s ‘Dread in a Earth’ and ‘I Roy’s ‘Roots Man Time’, moving through to the popular new sounds of the DJ’s working over an old rhythm and alongside its existing vocal. As with Busty Brown working with Delroy Wilson's ‘Know Your Friend’ and Mr Jah Stitch working over Johnny Clarke’s ‘Roots Natty Roots’ to produce an even more dreader ‘True Born African’. The heartfelt lyric can also convey this message as we can see when Horace Andy laments ‘Where is the Love’ and Delroy Wilson again shows us on his ‘Who Cares’ cut. The great Twinkle Brothers also put the message across on their two cuts we have here, ’Too Late’ one of their lost classics if ever there was one and the thoughtful ‘It’s Not Who You Know’,being another prime example.

Orange Street itself is always at the heart of all reggae's musical changes and some singers also ride these waves as Mr Cornell Campbell shows us here with two cuts. The mournful ‘Too Be Loved’ and his uplifting ‘Girl of My Dreams’, which uses the same rhythm as our previously mentioned Prince Jazzbo’s 'Dread in a Earth’. Showing us that firstly you can’t keep a good rhythm down and secondly that two if not more great songs can work from the same source point. The light hearted ‘Vengeful’ lyric also worked in this period when artists spared off to each other on records to vent their frustrations. As we can hear here with Mr Lee Perry’s ‘You Funny Boy’. The song snipping back at a previous employer over what he felt were his misdoings to an under appreciated Mr Perry. We have culled these tracks together to show that the Dread Roots feel of the 1970’s came across in many guises and even in earlier songs these sentiments were also prevalent. As represented in Slim Smith’s almost bluesy feel in ‘Trying To Find a Home’, never a truer statement in Kingston's ghetto areas.

Well we hope you enjoy this musical journey and make a connection with messages portrayed here, as Mr Monty Morris points out on his contribution to this collection ‘Times Are Dread’.... Dread indeed.....