Buscar:less play me

Clear Vinyl

Blue Lake is the musical moniker of American born, Copenhagen based multidisciplinary artist and musician Jason Dungan, who signs to the Tonal Union imprint for the release of his new longform album ‘Sun Arcs’. It follows 2022’s release ‘Stikling’, earning a nomination for ‘Album of the Year’ at the Danish Music Awards plus warm praise from The Hum blog and musicians and DJs alike including Jack Rollo (Time is Away/NTS) and Carla dal Forno. A self taught player, Dungan began freely experimenting with self-built multi-string instruments, preferring to build his own hybrid 48-string zither and working in the realms of left-field ambient music, off kilter folk and improvised acoustic minimalism.

The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the idyllic Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.”

The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, an ode to his home state and a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material much like an artist would, recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting.

Musically it portrays a form of double life led by an American-identifying person living in Scandinavia, and a new found presence in Denmark, seeking out underdeveloped marshlands and barren stretches of beach adrift from other rhythms and distractions. Highlighting their individual and potent importance Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new glorying heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, borning his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery.

The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile /Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

“I like to work with a variety of instruments and set ups,” says Mark Van Hoen, sometimes known as Locust or Autocreation but here working under his own name on the excellent Plan For A Miracle, his first physical release of solo music since 2018’s Invisible Threads. ”Sometimes it’s literally in my studio, with all the hardware electronics available. Sometimes the laptop, using software instruments. Some of the tracks on this record were recorded in the desert (Joshua Tree) using a 4-track tape machine and small modular synthesiser set up. Each track was recorded in different location using different instruments, which accounts for the distinction between each piece. It’s also about my own reaction to my environment, and what’s going on in my life at the time.”

The Croydon-born Van Hoen started musical life in the early 1990s, signing for R&S records in 1993 but developing his own, myriad and distinctive style across a range of releases on Touch, Editions Mego and other labels, using a battery of instruments, including analogue synthesizers and taking a number of different approaches to recording, rather than ploughing a single sonic furrow. He has worked on a number of collaborations, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive, under the moniker of Black Hearted Brother - their Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013. “I have known Neil Halstead since 1992,” says Van Hoen. “He shared a house with me for a couple of years, and the music I was making and listening to along with clubs I was attending had an influence particularly on Pygmalion, the final Slowdive album on Creation.”

Each track on Plan For A Miracle does indeed sound like a world unto itself, a mini-environment, a weather condition, an ecosystem created for the moment. It’s a collection of tracks recorded over the past few years, released on Bandcamp - despite his apparent absence, Van Hoen works constantly. Opener “Climates”, in its exquisite limpidity, feels like a homage to Brian Eno, one of his most formative influences in his teen years, commencing with Music For Films, which he bought in 1979. “This Is For Them”, feels like a ghostlike throwback to early drum & bass or electronica, reminiscent of his own, earliest outings. “There have been a number of requests from labels to make some more music like my very early releases on R&S,” says Van Hoen. “This is part of ‘letting go’ and realising that there’s nothing less creative about going back to those styles again.”

“Pencil Of Spheres” is something else again, a magnificent, imaginary glass structure, shimmering, refracting, without visible means of suspension, a thing of impossible beauty. “Electric Lights” evokes an abandoned fairground, its lights still pulsating, its music lingering. “The Underpass”, meanwhile, insofar as it reminds of anything at all, is faintly reminiscent of Cluster or Neu’s! West German ambience, the urban mundane rendered magical, the sodium lights, the whitewashed walls. The reverberant, faintly oriental chimes of “Insight” transport us yet again, burgeoning and intensifying.

The landscapes, the skyscapes rendered on Plan For A Miracle feel unpopulated as a rule - but when he does introduce vocal elements, Van Hoen has a history of doing so to spectacular effect - think of “Real Love” from 1998’s Playing With Time, the seductive intonation of its title recurring throughout like a series of massive holograms, echoing, stuttering, breaking up, surging. Here, there are just the faintest of vocals, barely distinct, disquieting. “There’s been a bit of a game changer in recent times,” explains Van Hoen. “AI software that enables you to extract vocals and instrument parts from virtually any recording. That means sampling individual parts from existing sources is no longer limited to the original mix exposing certain parts soloed. The vocal parts I use are from multiple sources and often pitch shifted altered rhythmically and melodically.“ There’s further vocal chatter on “I Really Do”, proceeding at a faster pace as if giving chase, or being pursued - distant, enigmatic. “The Music”, meanwhile, its beat tolling, lost in its own fog of static, features a curious intonation, like the ghost of a lost Walker Brother.

Sadly, the album’s title is in reference to a personal tragedy on Van Hoen’s part - the loss of his wife. Titles such as “I Won’t Give Up”, which faintly reminds of another Eno masterpiece, Another Green World, in its nautical hurly-bury, or the pastoral strains of “Mrs Who”, heavily clouded with sadness, seem to allude to this. “In fact the record was recorded entirely before she passed away,” says Van Hoen, “most of it before she even became very ill. The title was given to the album when it started to look like she wasn’t going to make it beyond a few months. It was something Osho said - “plan for a miracle” - so it was a statement of hope. Unfortunately it was not to be.” Although the album is non-thematic, non-specific in its atmospheres, sound paintings, elegant structures it most certainly stands as a magnificent monument to Osho’s memory.

-David Stubbs.

Daniel Land's new album, "Out of Season", is his most ambitious record to date, a series of reflections on history, memory, and post-Brexit Britain, which was inspired by his return to the landscapes of his youth – the rugged, underpopulated west coast of Somerset. The album was written and partly recorded in Daniel’s studio in a static caravan, overlooking the coast, during the period when the UK was tearing itself apart over its relationship to Europe. "I didn't set out to write about Brexit", Daniel says, "I have a kind of horror of political music. But I couldn’t escape the atmosphere of the time – this strange, distorted version of ‘Englishness’ in the national psyche. I’ve always been interested in memory and nostalgia; Brexit illustrates the dangers of taking seductive, possibly false memories at face value”. Songs like “White Chalk”, “Island of Ghosts”, and the album’s title track, represent a series of attempts to reclaim an older, more peculiar idea of England which, Daniel says has been “Lost in the nationalist mythmaking of the past decades” – the island of misfits and outsiders exemplified by the works of Derek Jarman, for example, whom Daniel was rediscovering while working on the album. “I must have read 'Modern Nature' ten times over the years”, Daniel says. “What I love about Jarman is that he had a deep, abiding love for England, but it was a very complicated, critical and a very queer kind of love. That was very much my mood, going into the making of this album”. Like Jarman’s work, "Out of Season" probes national identity whilst also displaying resolutely queer themes throughout. Daniel’s voice – once described by The Guardian as "The spawn of Elizabeth Fraser and Anthony Hegarty” – is less heavily reverbed than before, bringing to the fore his often-confessional lyrics, inspired by the frankness of modern queer poets like Andrew McMillan, Seán Hewitt, and Ocean Vuong. A lyrical highlight is the gorgeous “Southern Soul”, a deceptively straightforward recounting of a decades-old hookup with a closeted guy from his hometown which, Daniel says, “Serves as a metaphor for everything I’m talking about in the album”. And in keeping with the album’s nods to the heroes of gay literature, Daniel’s self-styling of the album as a “Dream Pop Album on National Themes” deliberately references the full title of Tony Kushner’s era-defining play "Angels in America", whose central character is namechecked in the hook-laden “Lemon Boy” – a song which must surely stand as Daniel’s most deliciously pop moment yet. Lauded by Mark Radcliffe, Guy Garvey, Tom Robinson, and many others, Daniel Land makes music that, in the words of BBC Radio 1, "You can't help but think the late John Peel would have loved".

Two sublime unreleased scores from Basil Kirchin. Need we say more.
So here we are. The next Trunk / Kirchin assignment. Basically some more unreleased music from the unpredictable and slightly chaotic Kirchin Tape Archive.
Very Limited Black Vinyl.

These tapes were labelled up as follows:
Assignment K (with lots of pencil scribbles everywhere). The Strange Affair (with lots of pen scribbles everywhere).
As usual with Basil tapes / things there is little else to go on, no tracklist, no list of musicians, no singer names, no dates or anything. I have actually tried to establish the name of the singer on the song from Side One (we have called it “Love Is To Walk Away “ as it is unnamed) but having played it to a handful of knowledgeable collectors and enthusiasts who I would count as experts in this field, no one has a clue who it might be. If you think you know please get in touch. We know who it isn’t.

We can tell you that Assignment K dates from 1968, was a film about a toy maker who has a double life as an international spy. It was directed by Val Guest, who’d just finished trying to rescue the cinematic hotchpotch that was Casino Royale - he had been brought in by the Bond producers after Peter Sellers had walked off the movie. We imagine Assignment K may have been a slightly less stressful few months of shooting. As for the Kirchin score that we have here, we can tell you very little indeed, apart from the fact that the bass player was Ron Prentice (an ex blacksmith turned musician and craftsman) who worked on several Bond scores, but we know little else. And we only know this because it says so in the academic tome “Jazz On The Screen” by David Meeker.

The Strange Affair is also from 1968, and was not only controversial but also a reasonably unsuccessful movie. Directed by David Greene who also directed, amongst other films, I Start Counting and the quite brilliant Sebastian. In this rather grubby flick a policeman called Peter Strange (played by Michael York) falls for an underage girl (played by Susan George), finds himself compromised by a pair of pornographers and gets lured into an errand for a smack gang. We can tell you little else because I have no more information about it all.
But we do know that this music has all the classic Kirchin mid-period sonic hallmarks that have always set him apart.

A tape with the rather factual title “Rosa Beton – Demo 83” gained currency in 1983, albeit among an inner circle, or as it says in a lexical note on the band: Rosa Beton “achieved beyond-regional fame in and around Berlin”. Unlike some other bands that were merely rumoured to exist, this name was widely recognized in the East Berlin punk scene and the demo tape was received with some delight. It had been made in the suburb of Hönow, or more precisely in music enthusiast Thomas Wagner’s childhood bedroom. The band was less a classic combo than a short-lived pro- ject run, for a brief underground season, by 16-yearold Wagner and Ronald Mausolf, who was known as “Mausi” and had just come of age. An old clunker of a four-track machine served as an impor- tant nutritional supplement for the duo, allowing bass and vocals to be overdubbed separately. For a project without a professional background, especially for an illegal punk band in the East, this conventional procedure was clearly exceptional. Punk bands would usually record vocals and instruments simultaneously and on a cassette recorder. Recording gear was not readily available in the GDR, and it was disproportionately or prohibitively expensive. The adversities that had to be overcome in starting up a punk band were certainly challenging for teenagers. Rooms for rehearsals were few and far between despite wide- spread vacancies, and public space was taboo thanks to the state. Concerts, whether in flats and studios or under the protection of the Protestant church, remained rare events and, moreover, risky; starting with the party-loyal neighbour alerting the People’s Police as if there were a war on, to the ever-present “digging activity” of the Stasi. The only planned appearance by Rosa Beton never materi- alised. Whether it was the goddesses of fate who averted a show or the Stasi who prevented it can no longer be reconstructed. In any case, Rosa Beton never played live and thus joined a long list of GDR punk bands that, in the early 1980s, did not make it out of illegality into a public sphere, not even into a conspiratorial one. ausi compensated for the band’s lack of live performances by at least distributing a few copies of the demo tape. Among others, at the Kult, the Kulturpark Plänterwald, which provided an initiation field for the Berlin punk scene and a hotspot with a pull beyond it. The punks adapted the Kulturpark to their understanding of an amusement park.
They would thrash about to Schlager music and pogo to third-rate Ostrock bands, make fun of overwhelmed provincials, hang out and exchange half-baked ideas as superior knowledge. In between, the punks liked to ride the chain carousel, there was a certain liking for chains. The Kulturpark management made quite a fuss about the riot the punks put on. Initially they were banned from the chain carousel, then, when the punks switched to bumper cars, they were banned from the bumper cars, then from the roller coaster, and finally from the ghost

Sdban Records, the renowned independent groove & jazz label behind Funky Chicken, Hip Holland Hip, and Discophilia Belgica, is thrilled to announce the upcoming release of its latest compilation album, "The Belgian Soundtrack: A Musical Connection of Belgium with Cinema." Packed with the finest soundtracks boasting an unmistakable Belgian connection, this compilation takes listeners on a captivating journey through a collection of cinematic hidden gems from the early sixties to the late seventies.

Curated by the passionate duo Robin Broos and Tom 'Pélé' Peeters, known for their profound appreciation of obscure soundtracks, "The Belgian Soundtrack" showcases the exceptional talents of both local and internationally acclaimed composers and musicians. From obscure finds composed by lesser-known artists to Hollywood scores performed by world-renowned musicians, this compilation offers a vibrant blend of tracks, including the occasional contribution from renowned international artists who have lent their musical prowess to Belgian films.

"The Belgian Soundtrack" came into being as a serendipitous adventure. Former film journalist Jan Temmerman reached out to us one day, offering a treasure trove of vintage soundtrack albums discovered in his attic," recounts Robin Broos. "With 650 long players, mostly unheard of titles, we embarked on an extraordinary quest-to listen to every single one of them, totaling a staggering 29,250 minutes. It was like watching the original Star Wars trilogy 78 times!"

What started as a quest soon evolved into an intriguing investigation fueled by curiosity. Along the way, Broos and Peeters unearthed dozens of treasures, delved into the backgrounds of obscure composers and musicians, and witnessed an array of enigmatic films. "We encountered an abundance of (un)necessary nudity that we never could have imagined existed," Tom Peeters laughs. The outcome of their explorations is "The Belgian Soundtrack," a meticulously curated collection of funky, melodic, and uplifting tracks, each crafted exclusively for the silver screen and boasting an unexpected Belgian connection.

Sign Libra's third album Hidden Beauty is an intimate voyage through feminine nature, guided by the arts of subtext, musical collage, and mysterious allusions. Elegantly arranged, enigmatic, and mischievous, Hidden Beauty seeks to "release the invisible and bring fragility to the surface." From the rainforests of Closer to the Equator (Sounds of the Dawn, 2016 / Antinote, 2018) to the surreal lunar landscape of Sea to Sea (RVNG Intl., 2020), Agata Melnikova, the Latvian musician behind the Sign Libra symbol, has developed a signature blend of evocative composition with lyricless, ethereal vocalizing. Hidden Beauty attends to a closer space than her first two albums, a playfully layered pastiche of refined references, drawing musical inspiration from the assortment of Erik Satie, the early work of Mylène Farmer and Laurent Boutonnat, and 90s R&B. The first inklings of Hidden Beauty arrived in 2019, with the basic contours of the album sculpted in 2020 and early 2021. Like Sea to Sea, Hidden Beauty was invented as a solitary creative effort, but this time under uniquely hermetic impositions. Tethered to the world only by screen, the artist sought inspiration from an unlikely array of activities: new, unorthodox approaches at composing, learning French, a virtual pedagogical practice, and plenty of jubilant dancing in her flat, sunglasses on, to 90s dance music. Hidden Beauty moves inward from the distant spaciousness of Sea to Sea in favor of a "chamber-like" sound, reflecting the intimate environs of its creation. Balancing the New Age balletic resonance of Closer to the Equator and the cosmic-dancerly tracks of Sea to Sea, Hidden Beauty combines deft, postmodern arrangements with popular, contemporary suggestions. The reverb drenching her previous recordings is sponged up in the songs of Hidden Beauty, giving the exercises contained within a feeling of presence, and closeness. And always Agata's crystalline vocal furnishings, less a lead vocal than a first instrument, the ever-returning counterpoint in a beatific swirl. The other hidden elements of this work are plenty, and perhaps best left concealed for the listener's enjoyment. Or perhaps they are hidden in plain sight and sound, depending on what the puzzle pieces reveal to your imagination. Sign Libra's Hidden Beauty will be released in vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on November 3, 2023. A portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Coral Guardian, a non-governmental organization working internationally and with local communities to protect coral ecosystems.

It's not hyperbole to state that Touché Amoré's third album Is Survived By is the band's most pivotal album. Released 10 years ago on September 24th, 2013 via Deathwish Inc., Is Survived By tackles the complicated nature of leaving a lasting legacy and the uncertainty that surrounds that; ultimately resulting in a record about learning to find the validation and love within one’s self. Produced by the legendary Brad Wood (Sunny Day Real Estate, Liz Phair, mewithoutYou), the recording sessions were a lesson in growth for the Los Angeles quintet - vocalist Jeremy Bolm, guitarists Nick Steinhardt and Clayton Stevens, bassist Tyler Kirby, and drummer Elliot Babin - as the band transformed from a group of individuals who play hardcore songs to the established headlining act that Touché Amoré is today. Is Survived By received critical acclaim from the likes of Pitchfork, The A.V. Club, The Needle Drop, and more - resulting in the album being 13th highest rated album of 2013 per Metacritic. It was also the band's first record to chart on the U.S. Billboard 200, peaking at 85. But most importantly, Is Survived By is beloved by fans new and old.

An innovative and idiosyncratic pianist, Thelonious Monk has been hailed as one of Be-Bop’s founding figures, with unexpected melodic shifts and dramatic hesitation hallmarks of his work. Monk By Five is one of the lesser-known sessions recorded for Riverside in the late 1950s and is one worthy of a wider audience; it features the bright swing of the new ‘Jackie-ing’ and the more dissonant ‘Played Twice,’ alongside engaging revisits of ‘Straight No Chaser,’ ‘I Mean You’ and ‘Ask Me Now,’ the interplay between Monk, cornetist Thad Jones and saxophonist Charlie Rouse especially noteworthy. Definitely worth investigating.

Classic Solo Album From Founding Member of The Byrds!

"... one of the greatest singer/songwriter albums ever made." -All Music

Gene Clark's 1971 classic "White Light" is a bittersweet and knowing statement from a singer/songwriter at the peak at his creative powers. Having fronted The Byrds, Clark on his own here is stripped down in guitarist Jesse Ed Davis' stark production. The lyrics, singing and guitar playing are so powerful that less production here is immeasurably more musically.

White Light was 100% Analogue Mastered by Kevin Gray at CoHEARent Audio from the best source available- phenomenal-sounding 1/2" safety copies of the original stereo master tapes. The results are amazing! The beautiful guitar playing is finally full and rich, and you can hear the full body of the instruments, not just the strings. Gene's aching vocals have never been so emotive and immediate.

I see lucid blue flames moving before my eyes.
I hear voices melting. Voices somewhere from within.
Speaking words I do not know but feel connected to, almost as if I have known the meaning once..
Noises that obscures the multiple pictures hidden in these digital compositions.
Iku Sakan have created a set of five tracks that takes the listener on a
trip deep into the human psyché. Emotional flickering movements that twists and turns. The albums have a darker, much more intense feel than some of Ikus earlier magical and often hypnotic music. A myriad of different voices creates pulsing patterns and constantly morphing pictures for my inner eye. It's an album that might work as a hack to our lingual structures, pushing limits, pushing possibilities of meaning.

A pool of over-saturated information boils and out of the vapor new contours take form.
The magical and hypnotic is not gone, I still recognise the softer aspects of Ikus highly detailed hybrid sound design. But I no longer see where it takes me. It excites me. It feels like the world is expanding again, breathing. The sounds on the album asks us questions and points in several directions at once. In the shadows, weeds of lucid dreams grow deeper roots, reaching for my inner ear.

The faint sounds on the track Nature Morte reminds me of expeditions to the local witch house ruins as a child. Something almost not there, something felt. History, Memories and the connection between the two seems to have played a part in these compositions. Emotional reactions that plant reactions in other people, all around creating soft movements on the face of our planet.

Whether our collective psyché is an open field or an impenetrable dark forest, is of less concern with a key like Omnitopoeia, that works like an enhanced mirror, reflecting the dreams of the words we speak everyday, reflecting the emotional charges of significant places. Unrecognisable but still remembered.

Muireann Bradley is a young blues, ragtime, roots and folk guitarist and singer based in Ballybofey in County Donegal Ireland. “This is my first album. Most of these tunes were originally recorded by the great blues men and women who were making records from the 1920s and 1930s right up in some cases to the early 1970s. I have also found inspiration for the renditions recorded here in the playing of some of the musicians who began recording this music in the 1960s and later, and who in some cases learned at the feet of the greats. Many of these guitarists played pivotal roles in the 1960s blues revival and subsequent “rediscovery” of many of the greats of country blues. I grew up steeped in these old blues in the hills overlooking the valley of the River Finn just outside the town of Ballybofey in County Donegal. My father would play this music constantly at home and wherever we went in the car and talk about it endlessly whether anyone was listening or not, telling stories about the lives of these musicians as if they were legend, mythology or the evening news. My father could of course play all this stuff on guitar, I remember watching him when I was very young and thinking “I want to be able to do that”. When I was nine he agreed to teach me and bought me my first little travel guitar. I worked hard to learn how to play but as time wore on I seemed to have less and less time to practice as I became more and more invested in the combat sports I was regularly training and competing in. Then in March 2020 the first Covid lockdowns happened and all contact sports were shut down. I was lost for a while but soon found my way back to the guitar. I was now listening, playing and practicing with a new intensity and focus. In a very serious moment, I wrote out a list of tunes I was going to learn. The first tune on that list was Blind Blake’s “Police Dog Blues”. I’m not sure now how long it took to get that arrangement together but when it was ready we videoed me performing it and posted it on YouTube. It ended up getting a lot of attention, I remember my parents being quite shocked and soon after that Josh Rosenthal got in touch… and here we are! Each individual track on this album was recorded live in the studio and represents one entire take with me singing and backing myself up on guitar simultaneously. Most are either first or second takes. Nothing has been added or taken away, no overdubs or modern recording tricks of any kind have been used at all so at least in some respects this album has been recorded in the same way as those classics of the 1920s and 1930s

Seven Steps to Heaven arrived at a crucial junction in Miles Davis' career. Recorded at two separate locations in spring 1963, it served as Davis' first release in more than a year – a layoff that was then unprecedented for the jazz visionary who had issued at least one LP a year since debuting in the early '50s. Equally notable, Seven Steps to Heaven marks the point at which the core of Davis' Second Great Quintet started to assemble. The twice Grammy-nominated effort is also Davis' final studio record to blend standards with originals. And it happens to be one of the expressive, well-played albums in the jazz canon.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at RTI, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity's 180g SuperVinyl LP of Seven Steps to Heaven adds yet another step (or more) towards the bliss suggested by the album title. Playing with standout clarity, detail, tone, and balance, this audiophile reissue pulls back the curtain on the instrumentalists. Afforded the tremendous advantages of SuperVinyl – including a nearly inaudible noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superb groove definition – this numbered-edition version presents Davis and Co. amid a wide, deep soundstage whose dimensions and solidity help bring the record's historical importance and musical merit into focus. Warm, organic, and present, the SuperVinyl LP of Seven Steps to Heaven is what great-sounding hi-fi is all about.

And there's nary a passage on this 1963 landmark that isn't great. That Davis manages to make it feel so cohesive and seamless is a testament to the inspired performances and engaging compositions. Davis didn't draw it up the way it unfolded. No matter. He held trump cards that stayed up his sleeve for the next three decades: A drive to be nothing less than superb, a refusal to settle for mediocrity, and standards to which nearly no other composer or player could match. "The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself," Davis wrote in the liner notes. "The music has to get past me."

Davis' demanding approach partly explains why he switched up his band between the first and second sessions – and underscores how fast his mind was racing with new ideas. Seven Steps to Heaven acts as the stable bridge between the transitional period that followed the dissolution of his First Great Quintet and formation of the Second; without it, Davis perhaps doesn't invite then-23-year-old Herbie Hancock and a still-teenage Tony Williams into the fold. The trumpeter not only got his men – he preserved in amber for the only time (well, magnetic tape anyway) the chemistry and vibe he achieved with pianist Victor Feldman, drummer Frank Butler, tenor saxophonist George Coleman, and bassist Ron Carter.

That line-up gels for half of the six songs on Seven Steps to Heaven. Captured in Los Angeles April '63, the quintet stretches out on a luxurious reading of the late '20s New Orleans staple "Basin Street Blues"; lays on the romance for a candlelit stroll through the '40s standard "I Fall in Love Too Easily"; and explores the rounded contours and melodic crevices of the early blues "Baby Won't You Please Come Home." The performances are refined, elegant, emotional; the band lets the feelings linger and gives the listener time to absorb the colours and textures.

A month later, Davis returned to New York City with Coleman and Carter, and partnered them with Hancock and Williams. Tellingly, the quintet tried its collective hand at the title track and "Joshua" – Feldman-penned songs already recorded in Los Angeles – as well as the yearning "So Near, So Far." Those are the tunes that comprise the other piece of Seven Steps to Heaven, with the revised quintet's liquid pulse, articulate dynamics, and timing shifts a harbinger of things to come.

It's also worth mentioning that the interpretations of the bounding "Seven Steps to Heaven" – a showcase for Davis' trumpet – and interlocking "Joshua" netted considerable radio airplay and attracted the attention of other contemporaries who covered the songs. Keeping Carter and Williams as the rhythmic engine, and Hancock as the anchor between solo flights and structural motifs, Davis would soon soon welcome Wayne Shorter into the family and transform jazz. Again. The aptly – and, in hindsight, perhaps prophetically titled Seven Steps to Heaven – is how he got there.

Temple, Bassey, MacLaine and now, Hurt; in a world of Shirleys, the name Sophia Ruby Katz has chosen for her music is perhaps prophetic as it captures her stunningly emotive vocal approach. And whilst Shirley Hurt might be the perfect nom de plume for the creative Toronto-based artist, it’s her self-titled debut album which positions her as protagonist of her own universe.

Traversing sonic landscapes, Shirley Hurt’s vocals ebb and flow like lyrical Ley lines tracking the contours of her own well-travelled map. By the age of 18, Hurt had travelled extensively, having lived in upwards of 20 different apartments and houses, as a result never really feeling “at home” anywhere. At this age was when Hurt found herself in New York, dipping her toes into various scenes and musical realms. The first and only place she ever felt at home, and a partial home-base for her, she travelled between Toronto and New York until the age of 26.When the project she was working on in New York reached a dead-end she returned West, moving in with musicians Harrison Forman (Hieronymus Harry, Zones) and Patrick Lefler (Roy, Possum). Being surrounded by their improvising at all hours, a new approach emerged. “Harrison is a virtuosic guitar player, and I hadn't picked up a guitar in any serious way since I was 16,” she says, “by osmosis I started playing again for fun.” Without agenda, the process grew organically from there.

Hurt and Forman decided to travel across the US and Canada in a trailer for half a year, with the entire album written in the final months of their trip. Hurt had been writing loose ideas here and there but felt blocked creatively. When the pair reached Berkley, they wound up house-sitting for a tuned-in friend who recommended she pray, in a very direct way, to remove the block. “I took her advice and to my surprise it worked. The album was conceptualized and finished within a couple of months.” Shapeshifting in tone and phrasing, Hurt’s music alchemizes the furthest corners of experimental indie folk, pop, and country into a singular sound with elegant unpredictability.

Whilst Shirley Hurt’s lyrical and structural ideas may have emerged on the road, the album was self-produced and recorded at Joseph Shabason (The War on Drugs)’s Aytche studio in Toronto’s West End. It was engineered by Nathan Vanderwielen and Chris Shannon (Bart), and Hurt enlisted collaborators Jason Bhattacharya, Nick Dourado, Patrick Lefler, and Harrison Forman to hone her vision. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with the songs until we returned to Toronto,” she recalls. “Joseph and I had been talking about working together after sending across some demos and Jason happened to recommend his studio at the exact same time, so everything came together naturally at that point.”

Whilst her most recent adventures may have seen Shirley Hurt bound for Texas as an official SXSW artist (hand-picked by Gorilla Vs Bear to perform at their own showcase), she currently resides in her native Canada, more specifically rural Ontario, close to friends and family, and is already working on her second album. The ties to lineage are interwoven in the fabric of the music. Hurt’s mother, artist Leala Hewak, instilled a lust for life and innate value of creativity in her from a young age as she explored the role of gallery owner, vintage jewellery show host, mid-century modern furniture expert, real estate agent, painter. Hurt’s father, a civil litigation lawyer and new-wave obsessed music lover with an extensive vinyl collection, introduced Hurt to a wide-range of artists at a young age such as Nina Hagen, Laurie Anderson, Tom Tom Club, and endless others.

In her video for ‘Problem Child’ Hurt’s grandmother walks her through a generationally revered pie-making process. One would be tempted to hear this, and other songs, as autobiographical. Yet, Hurt’s lyrics are rarely pulled from her relationships or personal history––at least not consciously. Rather, they arise from somewhere less tangible or defined. “Lyrics tend to come to me when I am doing non-musical things - washing dishes, brushing my dogs, walking to the grocery store. I have a lot of voice memos on my phone and half-filled notebooks and when I hear something, I have to stop what I'm doing to get the idea down. Usually it’s bits and pieces. It's rare a full song comes to me in one go, but it's great when they do, and those are often my favourites.”

Carving out a space of her own in an all-encompassing universe, Shirley Hurt is the introduction to a long artistic story, and if the journey so far is anything to go by, it will be stippled with evermore unpredictable chapters.

In March of 2022, Car Seat Headrest brought their "explosive" (Brooklyn Vegan) live show to Brooklyn Steel in New York in support of their 2021 album "Making a Door Less Open." Across three back to back nights, the band played revved up versions of tracks spanning their extensive back catalog. On December 8th, CSH will release a collection of recordings from those performances which includes fan favorites "Beach Life-In-Death," "Crows", "Something Soon", and "Drunk Drivers / Killer Whales."

There’s a big clue to the pacific wisdom of The Orchestra in the Sky in the artist name – Hochzeitskapelle + Japanese Friends. For this is, indeed, music based in, and resonating with, friendship, camaraderie, collaboration, and creative exchange. Across two albums – one documenting recordings from Tokyo, the other an expansive double album of sessions from Kobe – Hochzeitskapelle gather around them some of the finest voices in Japanese independent and underground pop music, like Tenniscoats, Eddie Marcon, Yuko Ikema, and Kama Aina, and explore an open field of music, full of creative encounters.

You may already know Hochzeitskapelle as the German instrumental quintet formed by members of The Notwist, Alien Ensemble, and friends from the jazz scene. Across three albums, one a collaboration with Kama Aina (2018’s Wayfaring Suite), they’ve developed a way of playing together that’s intimate and playful, rich and human; it’s a music that’s deliberately rough around the edges, and that nestles cosily into the everyday. Their relationship with Japanese indie has developed over the years, doubtless encouraged by Saya´s „Minna Miteru“, compilations series of Japanese indie pop for Morr Music. A peripatetic gang, Hochzeitskapelle also recently backed Japanese singer-songwriter Makoto Kawamoto on her new album, Hikari.

In many ways, The Orchestra in the Sky feels like the culmination of a set of ongoing cross-cultural exchanges: the Minna Miteru compilations; tours of Japan by Hochzeitskapelle and The Notwist; and indeed, Markus Acher’s Spirit Fest group with Saya and Ueno of Tenniscoats. The latter are present throughout much of The Orchestra in the Sky, and Saya’s voice is particularly winning on songs like “Tsuki no oto”, where the two outfits are joined by brass ensemble Zayaendo. There are several lovely turns from singer-songwriter Yuko Ikema, and Eddie Marcon appear twice; their songs are still beautiful, spectral acid folk, but with Hochzeitskapelle filling the details with lush, sad brass and strings.

But it’s also the potentially lesser-known names that shine through The Orchestra in the Sky, like the frail folk of Gratin Carnival; the delightful, gentle pop songs by sekifu and Zayaendo member, Kanako Numata; a trio of beautiful, stumble-drunk melodies played in swaying consort with popo. That group, along with the presence of Zayaendo, Fuigo, and Mitamurakandadan?, make strong connections with the Japanese underground’s love of brass bands, partly informed by the tradition of chindon’ya, marching bands that walk the streets of Japanese cities. They also all appeared on the recent Alien Parade Japan compilation of such groups, assembled by Acher and Saya.

All things converge, then, on The Orchestra in the Sky, a smart, spirited collection of heavenly pop songs, intimate folk melodies, lungfuls of joyous brass, deep weeping strings, and swooning sighs. The last words go to Acher himself: “Many things we did in the last years come together here and it feels like something special was captured.” We hope you like what you hear.

There’s a big clue to the pacific wisdom of The Orchestra in the Sky in the artist name – Hochzeitskapelle + Japanese Friends. For this is, indeed, music based in, and resonating with, friendship, camaraderie, collaboration, and creative exchange. Across two albums – one documenting recordings from Tokyo, the other an expansive double album of sessions from Kobe – Hochzeitskapelle gather around them some of the finest voices in Japanese independent and underground pop music, like Tenniscoats, Eddie Marcon, Yuko Ikema, and Kama Aina, and explore an open field of music, full of creative encounters.

You may already know Hochzeitskapelle as the German instrumental quintet formed by members of The Notwist, Alien Ensemble, and friends from the jazz scene. Across three albums, one a collaboration with Kama Aina (2018’s Wayfaring Suite), they’ve developed a way of playing together that’s intimate and playful, rich and human; it’s a music that’s deliberately rough around the edges, and that nestles cosily into the everyday. Their relationship with Japanese indie has developed over the years, doubtless encouraged by Saya´s „Minna Miteru“, compilations series of Japanese indie pop for Morr Music. A peripatetic gang, Hochzeitskapelle also recently backed Japanese singer-songwriter Makoto Kawamoto on her new album, Hikari.

In many ways, The Orchestra in the Sky feels like the culmination of a set of ongoing cross-cultural exchanges: the Minna Miteru compilations; tours of Japan by Hochzeitskapelle and The Notwist; and indeed, Markus Acher’s Spirit Fest group with Saya and Ueno of Tenniscoats. The latter are present throughout much of The Orchestra in the Sky, and Saya’s voice is particularly winning on songs like “Tsuki no oto”, where the two outfits are joined by brass ensemble Zayaendo. There are several lovely turns from singer-songwriter Yuko Ikema, and Eddie Marcon appear twice; their songs are still beautiful, spectral acid folk, but with Hochzeitskapelle filling the details with lush, sad brass and strings.

But it’s also the potentially lesser-known names that shine through The Orchestra in the Sky, like the frail folk of Gratin Carnival; the delightful, gentle pop songs by sekifu and Zayaendo member, Kanako Numata; a trio of beautiful, stumble-drunk melodies played in swaying consort with popo. That group, along with the presence of Zayaendo, Fuigo, and Mitamurakandadan?, make strong connections with the Japanese underground’s love of brass bands, partly informed by the tradition of chindon’ya, marching bands that walk the streets of Japanese cities. They also all appeared on the recent Alien Parade Japan compilation of such groups, assembled by Acher and Saya.

All things converge, then, on The Orchestra in the Sky, a smart, spirited collection of heavenly pop songs, intimate folk melodies, lungfuls of joyous brass, deep weeping strings, and swooning sighs. The last words go to Acher himself: “Many things we did in the last years come together here and it feels like something special was captured.” We hope you like what you hear.

Preston’s unholiest sons Evil Blizzard return with their most furious, compelling and diverse album to date, released on their own Crackedankles label, (which has recently branched out into releasing the likes of Hotwax, Thank, Bad Guys and TV Face.) Following the critical and commercial success of their last album ‘The Worst Show On Earth’ the band took a year off after that tour to recoup. And then got back together in March 2020, just in time for… another enforced year off. They did, however, release ‘The Very Best Of Evil Blizzard’ on vinyl, which was completely blank. And sold out in less than a day. The new album, their fifth, was written during and post lockdown and ‘reflects the claustrophobia, fear and paranoia of those days’ according to guitarist (not bassist!) Filthydirty. ‘The band has changed. One of our 4 bassists Kav left and we were joined by Fleshcrawl (aka Mr. Dibs, Hawkwind’s vocalist and bassist for over 12 years). Kav was inimitable as a musician, so it never crossed our minds to try and ‘replace’ him, so when Fleshcrawl scurried in he brought a whole new range of sounds and toys to the sandpit. Also, we’d run out of sonic space to play with, having just the basses, and everything had got a bit stale - so I switched to lead guitar which brought a whole new range of possibilities. 'The new album is much more representational of the band’s record collections: it retains the ‘Sabbath-meets PiL-meets Killing Joke’ sound found on the band’s earlier albums, but now encompasses dub, goth and electronica in its 8 tracks, with clear nods in the general direction of Sonic Youth, Jane’s Addiction, Leftfield and The Mission. As opposed to all previous albums which were recorded live in one or two takes, this album took over three months with the band meticulously de-structuring songs ‘that sounded too much like pop songs’ resulting in an album that is uncomfortable yet still accessible. Featuring cover art by the legendary Nick Blinko or Rudimentary Peni, the album is released in gatefold sleeve on black vinyl, compact disc and DL.

The Cornish improv noise / post-rock / shoegaze band’s cult classic debut, remastered and re-edited by Slowdive’s Simon Scott and available on vinyl for the first time since its release back in 2017, with original copies (released via The Weird Beard) now changing hands for triple figures. The three tracks that make up the album were recorded live, in one take. They are presented as captured snippets of the one song the band used to play, the continually existing and evolving ‘CPA’ (Cosmic Pink Alignment). It formed the blueprint for their unique mix of Sonic Youth squall and Slowdive-style beauty, which was later heard on 2021’s acclaimed debut for Sonic Cathedral, Sleepover. “People have told us they aren’t able to get a copy of the album, so a reissue was a good opportunity for us to re-look at it having learnt a bit more about the mastering process when we did Sleepover,” says guitarist Matt Ashdown. “Simon also mastered that, so we really trusted him and didn’t give him a brief – he knows we like to squeeze out as much low end as possible, which is why there is also a new cut; more low end means less space on the vinyl.” Simon’s magic touch has really elevated this stunning record, making it sound bigger, bolder and better than ever