Following the critically acclaimed Vinyan cassette, Kāthā is Siamese Twins’ second curated pan-Asian compilation selected to form a continuous and coherent whole, whose strong transcendental ambience comes tinged with Eastern psychedelia. Kāthā is the Khmer and Thai name used for chanted sacred mantras and magical incantations that offer protection, charm, or certain influence in life. Its origins stem from "Gāthā", a Sanskrit term referring to any poetic metre commonly used in legends - verses recited (usually mentally) in rhythm with the breath as part of mindfulness practice or meditation. A hypnotic sound bath in which tribally-rooted ambient morphs into one entity. Drones, live instruments and esoteric textures are transformed into a contemporary Kāthā interpretation.
Search:life garden
Let’s get back to the program. Picking up from where things were left off in July 2020…
Whilst most electronic producers of the dance-floor persuasion dabbled with conducting micro-symphonies for their micro-herbs, locked inside their micro-mansions, Dreems has dusted off his dance-floor accreditations and got back to work creating some serious indoor waves for Le Temps Perdu.
The Blue Water EP has all the stuff that encapsulates the label - raw, fun, powerful and free, yet deep, loving, warm and friendly. The music carries on from the previous Shark Water and Blue Hole EPs, calling all sea monsters with Die Orangen Remix of Shark Water, later emerging in calm waters for mermaid pleasing Iñigo Vontier Remix of The Dolphin Communion, and finally swimming into the salty, acidic tones of the Blue Hole (Break Mix).
Dear water-lily enthusiast, you need fear not, there is a hearty nod to the plant-life in Something Else for Spring that grows and sprouts new life with each turning phrase and finally blossoms with a sprinkle of joy. Label head-gardener V gives it the extra push put on the dance floor with his tougher take.
You grab a copy of the vinyl at some bricks and mortar stores if you are fond of wearing your scuba suit whilst browsing the shelves, otherwise head to the regular online outlets to get this small slice of history. It contains, we feel, the best of the past 2 EPs.
Brock Van Wey returns as Earth House Hold and his third full album under the alias, continuing to explore the furthest influences of Ambient-infused, deconstructed Deep House in all its varying elements.
“...from the second I descended those stairs, lived it for myself, and the events that followed, I knew my life had changed forever. A life that brought with it a beauty as infinite as its pain”.
Daybreak Basements and Broken Hearts explores a new aspect of Brock’s early Deep House influences, one that meticulous followers of this guise would have been patiently trying to guess since his last outing in 2018. If Brock’s debut Earth House Hold album (When Love Lived, 2012) took the grooves and danceability from Deep House, and his second, (Never Forget Us, 2018), highlighted the powerful progression of vocals and melodies, then Daybreak Basements and Broken Hearts continues to build on the many aspects and inspirations of the Deep House genre, with a raw, dirty and somehow deeper take on the sound that Brock grew up with many years ago.
Brock’s signature vocals once again provide the narration and backbone to an album that is designed to progress; from its patient and spacious beginnings to its energetic and emotional closing chapters. Reverberating synths fill cavernous spaces as basslines rumble, bringing a darker, more abstract, early-morning vibe to an album born from a place of both reflection, and personal experiences.
“This is a house album in the purest sense of the word - just as much as the furthest thing from one that ever existed. As much a deconstruction of what deep house means as an attempt to reconstruct a time, and a life, it built.”
Compass Records is proud to announce the release of Colin Hay’s
(Men at Work) 2001 classic ‘Going Somewhere’ on LP for the first time.
The release will include a limited pressing of white vinyl. For many of his newer fans, that weren’t already familiar with Men At Work, ‘Going Somewhere’
was their point of discovery of Colin Hay and his music.
The album includes some of Colin’s best known solo work, including “Beautiful World,” “Waiting For My Real Life To Begin, and “I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever
Get Over You,” which was featured in the hit film, Garden State. That song
has gone on to be featured in numerous television shows including Dawson’s
Creek, Judging Am and Scrubs where it was sung by the entire cast.
Writing about the song, guitarist John Mayer said: “This is without a doubt my
favorite song of the year. I’m still trying for a tune like this of my own. It’s my
favorite kind of ballad, ‘chin up’ sadness that even a cold bastard would get
swept away by - ‘And if I lived til I could no longer climb my stairs / I just don’t
think I’ll ever get over you.’ No further comments.”
The Forbidden Dance label is marking their first year of existence and with already top-notch names (Vick Lavender, Alton Miller, The Mechanical Man) with the first three releases, they are celebrating the one year mark with another global gem, disco and house finest - Ilija Rudman!
Where Wild Horses Go is conveying an unquestionable sense of 80's electro and synth boogie filled with smooth and heavily reverberated rhythmics drenched in strong snares. Aligned with catchy and spaced-out disco pads, the album is riddled with ever strong analogue elements processed in a light, quirky and summerish way but with enough groove in some tracks easily applicable on the dancefloors in the late hours.
Dead Horse Gang is a brainchild music band/brand by Ilija Rudman dedicated to cinematic dance concept laying on the Los Angeles funk attitude, Art Of Noise perception of sound and raw 12-bit grooves making a statement of mid 80's culture with surf vibe of California summer.
"Dead Horse Gang Music is more than music, it's a way of life, a way of thinking, a path to a maximum freedom of the one, who can accept it."
-Ilija Rudman
A little over a year ago, Nathan Williams found himself back in San Diego, writing what would eventually become Hideaway, his seventh album as Wavves, in a little shed behind his parents’ house. It was also the place where he made some of his earliest albums, before he became known for his uncanny ability to write songs that sneered at the world while evoking pathos, sympathy, and a deep understanding of how sometimes we’re our own worst enemies, and that can be okay. Williams’ return to his childhood home was not just a symbolic attempt at jumpstarting creativity. It came as a result of a series of major life changes. A decade ago, Williams released King of the Beach on the maverick indie label Fat Possum. The album was a cocky collection of pop punk gems that catapulted him into the public consciousness, eventually prompting a jump from Fat Possum into the major label system, where he released two albums before becoming disillusioned by the lack of creative agency available to him. In 2017, Williams self-released You’re Welcome on his label, Ghost Ramp. Now, Williams has returned to Fat Possum with a barbed collection of anxious anthems that grapple with the looming sense of doom and despair that comes with getting older in an increasingly chaotic world. “He’ll always skew toward the Bart Simpson character,” says Matthew Johnson, founder of Fat Possum. “But that does not mean that he doesn’t have some commentary, and once in awhile, it’s totally spot on.” Across its brief but impactful nine tracks, Hideaway is about what happens when you get old enough to take stock of the world around you and realize that no one is going to save you but yourself, and even that might be a tall order. The album features Williams’ most universal and urgent songs yet. “Honeycomb” lopes along sunnily, as Williams sings affecting lines like “I feel like I’m dying, it’s cool, it’s great, just pretend I’m okay.” His directness is shocking, and proof that Williams is the kind of songwriter who can capture pain and uncertainty with resonant brutal force. “It’s real peaks and valleys with me,” Williams says. “I can be super optimistic and I can feel really good, and then I can hit a skid and it’s like an earthquake hits my life, and everything just falls apart. Some of it is my own doing, of course.” It’s this self awareness that permeates each of Hideaway’s songs, marking them each as mature reckonings with who he is. After realizing the material he’d been working on in the hideaway was starting to take shape, Williams, along with bandmates Stephen Pope and Alex Gates workshopped the songs in a series of now-abandoned studio sessions, before linking up with musician and producer Dave Sitek of TV on the Radio to help fully realize their new songs.
Rock ‘n’ roll is often hard to define, or even to find, in these
fractured musical times. But to paraphrase an old saying,
you know it when you hear it. And you always hear it with
The Wallflowers. For the past 30 years, the Jakob Dylanled act has stood as one of rock’s most dynamic and
purposeful bands - a unit dedicated to and continually
honing a sound that meshes timeless songwriting and
storytelling with a hard-hitting and decidedly modern
musical attack.
That signature style has been present through the
decades, baked into the grooves of smash hits like 1996’s
‘Bringing Down the Horse’ as well as more recent and
exploratory fare like 2012’s ‘Glad All Over’.
But while it’s been nine long years since we’ve heard from
the group with whom he first made his mark, The
Wallflowers are silent no more. And Dylan always knew
they’d return. “The Wallflowers is much of my life’s work,”
he says simply. That life’s work continues with ‘Exit
Wounds’, the brand-new Wallflowers studio offering. The
collection marks the first new Wallflowers material since
‘Glad All Over’.
‘Exit Wounds’ is an ode to people - individual and
collective - that have, to put it mildly, been through some
stuff. “I think everybody - no matter what side of the aisle
you’re on - wherever we’re going to next, we’re all taking a
lot of exit wounds with us,” Dylan says. “Nobody is the
same as they were four years ago. That, to me, is what
‘Exit Wounds’ signifies. And it’s not meant to be negative at
all. It just means that wherever you’re headed, even if it’s
to a better place, you leave people and things behind, and
you think about those people and those things and you
carry them with you. Those are your exit wounds. And right
now, we’re all swimming in them.”
A tender and sweeping story about what roots us, Minari follows a Korean- American family that moves to a tiny Arkansas farm in search of their own American Dream. The family home changes completely with the arrival of their sly, foul-mouthed, but incredibly loving grandmother. Amidst the instability and challenges of this new life in the rugged Ozarks, Minari shows the undeniable resilience of family and what really makes a home.
Minari already won several awards at Sundance Film Festival, Alliance of Women Film Journalists, Boston Society of Film Critics, Denver Film Festival, Florida Film Critics Circle, Los Angeles Film Critics Association, North Carolina Film Critics Association and appeared on over 30 critics’ year-end top-ten lists, including first place on two lists and second place on four.
Emile Mosseri is an American composer, pianist, singer and producer based in Los Angeles. He has scored films and series including The Last Black Man In San Francisco, Kajillionaire, HBO’s Random Acts of Flyness and Season 2 of Amazon’s Homecoming. Emile is a member of the indie-rock band The Dig.
- A1: Because
- A2: Get Back
- A3: Glass Onion
- A4: Eleanor Rigby / Julia (Transition)
- A5: I Am The Walrus
- A6: I Want To Hold Your Hand
- A7: Drive My Car / The Word / What You're Doing
- A8: Gnik Nus
- A9: Something
- B1: Blue Jay Way (Transition)
- B2: Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite! / I Want You (She's So Heavy) / Helter Skelter
- B3: Help!
- B4: Blackbird / Yesterday
- B5: Strawberry Fields Forever
- B6: Within You Without You / Tomorrow Never Knows
- B7: Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
- B8: Octopus's Garden
- C1: Lady Madonna
- C2: Here Comes The Sun / The Inner Light (Transition)
- C3: Come Together / Dear Prudence / Cry Baby Cry (Transition)
- C4: Revolution
- C5: Back In The U S.s.r
- D1: While My Guitar Gently Weeps
- D2: A Day In The Life
- D5: All You Need Is Love
- D3: Hey Jude
- D4: Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)
JPEG is the 4th album from German legends Digitalism, released on their own label “Magnetism". The Hamburg-based electronic music duo formed in Hamburg in 2004, consisting of Jens “Jence” Moelle and ?smail “Isi” Tüfekçi. Digitalism has released records on labels such as Gerd Jansons Running Back Records, Kitsune, Virgin, Dynamic Records, Boys Noize Records, Astralwerks and PIAS and has throughout the years played all over the world at famous venues, clubs and festivals. They are also highly regarded for their remixes for acts such as Daft Punk ,Depeche Mode, Superorganism, Mø and many more. Digitalism have became synonymous with unique electronic productions, a crossover sound with roots in both indie, techno and pop. Digitalisms music also appears in countless video games and syncs (Recent campaigns Nissan Leaf, past campaigns Vodafone, Fifa, Gran Turismo and many more).
- 1: Shelter Song
- 2: High & Hurt
- 3: Love Kills Slowly
- 4: Vendetta
- 5: Drink Rain
- 6: Gold City
- 7: Dear Saint Cecilia
- 8: The Wider Powder Blue
- 9: The Holding Hand
A decade on from their first record, Iceage continue to harness their lives together through music. This journey, in music and life, has never progressed in a linear fashion. Seek Shelter — Iceage’s fifth LP and first for Mexican Summer — is proof that their lives are still happening through their music, and that they remain determined to harness it. Enrolling Sonic Boom (Pete Kember of Spacemen 3) to produce, Seek Shelter sees Iceage’s propulsive momentum pushing them in new, expansive, ecstatic directions. The sound of an emotional core unwound, Seek Shelter radiates warmth and a profound desire for salvation in a world that’s spinning further and further out of control. In an extraordinary and unexpected run following the release of their debut LP, Iceage went from the fertile hyperlocal Copenhagen scene to stages all over the world. Their recordings reflect their journey: 2012’s You’re Nothing was hard, fast and raw, a bold doubling-down on the aggression of youth in the first record as well as the weight of expectation. Plowing Into the Field of Love (2014) and Beyondless (2018) saw a softening of the band’s hardest edges and the arrival of a certain world-weary vaudeville in the Iceage sound. The band’s past two records — all filtered twangy guitar riffs, sparse piano arrangements, and slinky, slow-moving rhythms — ventured into an intoxicated but knowing swirl, surveying the party at the end of the night. They’d seen it all, at least once, and their music rode the crest of that chaos. Seek Shelter, the band’s first record made with an outside producer, is the place they have been called to next. The LP was recorded at Namouche, a dilapidated wood-paneled Lisbon radio studio of 1960s vintage where the band set up for 12 days. It is the longest time they have spent recording a record. Steady rain dripped through the ceiling; they had to arrange their equipment around puddles and slowly-filling buckets covered in cloth so that the sound of droplets wouldn’t reach the mics. Sonic Boom arranged garden lamps from a nearby party store for mood lighting in the high-ceiling space. A choir, the Lisboa Gospel Collective, joined the band for two tracks on the final day in the studio providing a new scale to Rønnenfelt’s incantations. Singer and primary songwriter Elias Rønnenfelt casts their new producer as a sparring partner, another wayward mind to bounce ideas off of. “We wanted a partner that had some noise that we didn’t have, more a wizard than a producer. “When we started, I think we were just lashing out, completely blindfolded with no idea as to why and how we were doing anything. For Seek Shelter, we had a definite vision of how we wanted the album to be carved out, yet still the end result came as a surprise in terms of where we sonically were able to push our boundaries.” He’s speaking of the new record and also of their entire existence as a band, a travelogue that has catapulted these four friends far past the horizons of punk. “Some of that we wanted to remain intact. We try to keep the mystery. If there's no sense of mystery in it for us, then it's not fun.” Seek Shelter is a record that now exists at a moment of a collective unknown, when every beating heart wonders what will happens next.
A tender and sweeping story about what roots us, Minari follows a Korean- American family that moves to a tiny Arkansas farm in search of their own American Dream. The family home changes completely with the arrival of their sly, foul-mouthed, but incredibly loving grandmother. Amidst the instability and challenges of this new life in the rugged Ozarks, Minari shows the undeniable resilience of family and what really makes a home.
Minari already won several awards at Sundance Film Festival, Alliance of Women Film Journalists, Boston Society of Film Critics, Denver Film Festival, Florida Film Critics Circle, Los Angeles Film Critics Association, North Carolina Film Critics Association and appeared on over 30 critics’ year-end top-ten lists, including first place on two lists and second place on four lists.
Emile Mosseri is an American composer, pianist, singer and producer based in Los Angeles. He has scored films and series including The Last Black Man In San Francisco, Kajillionaire, HBO’s Random Acts of Flyness and Season 2 of Amazon’s Homecoming. Emile is a member of the indie-rock band The Dig.
- A1: The Only Way Is Up
- B1: Messing With My Mind
The Only Way Is Up” has long been regarded as a dance floor anthem and with its uplifiting lyric couldn’t be more appropriate as the soundtrack to current times as we slowly return to a more normal way of life. It has taken 40 years for this magnificent, original version of the song to finally see a reissue and our thanks go to Otis Clay’s daughter, Ronda, for helping to make this possible.
The song was written by George Jackson and Johnny Henderson and originally recorded by Otis Clay in 1980 on his own ‘Echo’ imprint. Incredibly it was a non-hit at the time and came towards the end of a long and prolific career for the Chicago R&B singer. Clay had previously recorded for the Leaner brothers at ‘One-derful!’ before moving on to ‘Cotillion’, ‘Atlantic’ and ‘Hi’ (amongst others). George Jackson also worked as a staff writer for ‘Hi’, after a successful run at Goldwax, but it was while he was with the Muscle Shoals Sound Studio that he wrote “The Only Way Is Up” for Clay.
In 1988 Jackson hit paydirt when his song was reinveted by the dance duo Coldcut for Yazz and the Plastic Machine. It was an immediate hit and spent five weeks at the top of the U.K. pop charts. It also became a No.1 hit across Europe although barely scraped into the Hot 100 in the U.S.A. In recent times it has been used as the theme to the popular TV show The Only Way Is Essex.
But, of course, it is Otis’ ‘soulful’ original that we all want to hear and it is still packing the dancefloors across the country as witnessed at last years fabulous ‘International Soul Festival’ at the Blackpool Winter Gardens! With prices in 3-figures and rising its time to grab a bargain… “the only way is up”!
Calgary songwriter Chad VanGaalen’s new album, ‘World’s Most Stressed Out
Gardener’, is a psychedelic bumper crop. A collection of tunes that does away with
obsessiveness, the anxiety of perfectionism, in favour of freshness and immediacy -
capturing the world as it was met while recording alone at home over a period of
years. “Don’t overthink it,” VanGaalen told himself again and again, despite the
push/pull love/hate of his relationship with songwriting. “I’m always trying to get
outside of the song - but then I realize I love the song.”
This is a record that gleams with VanGaalen’s musical signatures: found sound,
reverb, polychromatic folk music that is by turns cartoonish and hyperphysical - like
ultra-magnified footage of a virus or a leaf. Apparently, the album began life as a
“pretty minimal” flute record. (There’s only a vestige now, on ‘Flute Peace’, one of
three instrumentals.) Later it became an electronic record “for a while” and finally,
“right at the last second,” it “turned into a pile of garbage.” The good kind of
garbage: glinting, useful, free. Music as compost - leaves and branches ready to be
re-ingested by the earth, turned into a flower.
Throughout these 40 minutes, VanGaalen floats from mania to solace to oblivion,
searching for zen in all the wrong places. “Turn up the radio / I think we’re dead,”
he sings on ‘Nothing Is Strange’; or, on the inside-out rocker ‘Nightmare Scenario’:
“You’re stressed out when you should be feeling very well.” The singer’s mental
landscape is rotting and redemptive, beautiful in spite of itself - and his soundscapes
reflect this fertile decay.
He has been influenced by his instrumental work on TV scores (Dream Corp’s third
season began this fall) but still “nothing can really replace the human voice,” he
admits. Like Arthur Russell or Syd Barrett, it’s VanGaalen’s vocals that shine a path
through the swampland - from the cello-lashed ‘Water Brother’ to ‘Starlight’’s
krautrock pipe-dream.
These days, VanGaalen cherishes the privacy of the studio, the capacity to wander
around, get distracted, and “move at the speed of life.” Whereas once he would
obsess over mic techniques, now he puts the microphone in the same place every
time - trying to capture a song quickly, the idea at its heart. He’ll act on his
infatuations - for the flute, a squeaky clarinet, his basement’s copper plumbing
(remade into xylophones for ‘Samurai Sword’) - and then he’ll try to get out, “veering
away from responsibility,” before he overdoes his stay.
In the end, it’s like gardening. You have to live with your horrible decision-making;
the weather’s going to mess with you if it wants to; and if you plant a hundred
heads of broccoli, “now you gotta eat a hundred heads of broccoli - or watch them
go to seed.” But mostly VanGaalen just tries to be a deer: “I remember seeing some
deer come out in the Okanagan Valley once,” he says, “watching them wait for a
sunbeam to hit a perfect bunch of grapes - and then eating them right out of the
sunbeam. I’d recommend that.”
Initial LP copies pressed on clear with gold, red and blue high melt coloured vinyl.
It’s nearly a decade since William Doyle handed a CD-R demo to the Quietus co-founder John Doran at a gig, who loved it so much he set up a label to release Doyle’s debut EP (as East India Youth). Doyle’s debut album, Total Strife Forever, followed in 2014, as did a nomination for the Mercury Music Prize. A year later, he was signed to XL, touring the world and about to release his second album – all by the age of 25.
After self-releasing four ambient and instrumental albums, Doyle’s third full-length record – and the first under his own name – Your Wilderness Revisited arrived to ecstatic reviews in 2019: Line of Best Fit described it as “a dazzlingly beautiful triumph of intention” and Metro declared it an album not only of the year, but “of the century”. Just over a year later, as he turns 30, Doyle is back with Great Spans of Muddy Time.
Born from accident but driven forward by instinct, Great Spans was built from the remnants of a catastrophic hard-drive failure. With his work saved only to cassette tape, Doyle was forced to accept the recordings as they were – a sharp departure from his process on Your Wilderness Revisited, which took four long years to craft toward perfection. “Instead of feeling a loss that I could no longer craft these pieces into flawless ‘Works of Art’, I felt intensely liberated that they had been set free from my ceaseless tinkering,” Doyle says.
“The album this turned out to be – and that I’ve wanted to make for ages – is a kind of Englishman-gone-mad, scrambling around the verdancy of the country’s pastures looking for some sense,” says Doyle. “It has its seeds in Robert Wyatt, early Eno, Robyn Hitchcock, and Syd Barrett.” Doyle credits Bowie’s ever-influential Berlin trilogy, but also highlights a much less expected muse: Monty Don, presenter of the BBC programme Gardener’s World, Doyle’s lockdown addiction.
“I became obsessed with Monty Don. I like his manner and there's something about him I relate to. He once described periods of depression in his life as consisting of ‘nothing but great spans of muddy time’. When I read that quote I knew it would be the title of this record,” Doyle says. “Something about the sludgy mulch of the album’s darker moments, and its feel of perpetual autumnal evening, seemed to fit so well with those words. I would also be lying if I said it didn’t chime with my mental health experiences as well.”
Lead single “And Everything Changed (But I Feel Alright)” is representative of the album as a whole: eclectic and unpredictable, but also playful and properly danceable. On top of the gently pulsing electronics, soothing harmonies and glowing melodies, there’s a ripping guitar solo that ricochets around the song like a pinball. “I wanted to get back into the craft of writing individual songs rather than being concerned with overarching concepts,” Doyle says. Elsewhere there’s the synth pop strut of “Nothing At All”, pulsating static on “Semi-Bionic”, incandescent synths and enveloping soundscapes in “Who Cares”, and the ambient glitch groove of “New Uncertainties”.
Great Spans of Muddy Time is a beautiful ode to the power of accident, instinct and intuition. The result, however, is far from an anomaly: this celebration of the imperfect album is one that required years of honed craft and dedicated focus to achieve, “For the first time in my career, the distance between what I hear and what the listener hears is paper-thin,” Doyle says. “Perhaps therein reveals a deeper truth that the perfectionist brain can often dissolve.”
m 13. [a sea of thoughts behind it]
British artist Robin Rimbaud (Scanner) traverses the experimental terrain between sound and space connecting a bewilderingly diverse array of genres. Since 1991 he has been intensely active in sonic art, producing concerts, installations and recordings, the albums Mass Observation (1994), Delivery (1997), and The Garden is Full of Metal (1998) hailed by critics innovative and inspirational works of contemporary electronic music. Committed to working with cutting edge practitioners he has collaborated with Bryan Ferry, Wayne McGregor, Mike Kelley, Carsten Nicolai, Michael Nyman, Steve McQueen, Laurie Anderson and Hussein Chalayan, amongst many others.
Rimbaud first met Belgian artist Hans Op de Beeck at Le Fresnoy Studio national des Arts Contemporains when they were both Visiting Professors in 2012. Op de Beeck lives and works in Brussels, Belgium and creates sculpture, installations, video, photography, animated films, drawing, painting, and writing. His various works show the viewer non-existent, but identifiable places, moments and characters that appear to have been taken from everyday life.
The artists found an immediate creative connection, and a year after meeting Staging Silence (2) was completed. In 2019, they returned to the theme and created Staging Silence (3).
Each of the films is realised through the same principles, as two pairs of anonymous hands construct and deconstruct fictional interiors and landscapes on a mini film set of just three-square metres in size. The films take the viewer on a visual journey through depopulated, enigmatic and often melancholic, but nonetheless playful, small-scaled places, which are built up and taken down before the eye of the camera.
Ranging from hyper-realistic fictional land and cityscapes to absurd, almost surreal, dreamscapes, the various locations are connected by the sense of mystery and melancholy that pervades them. And at every moment Rimbaud's score is amplifying and illustrating these moments, from tragedy to nostalgia, witty to optimistic.
Introspective and lyrical, Staging Silence offers us a world of mystery and intrigue, held together by nature and time. This is a very humane works experienced at a time when many of us feel disconnected from the world around us. The peculiar silence that permeates this hauntingly beautiful work is very much an illustration of our times, anticipating a future in the past. Staging Silence is an exquisite study in dreamlike abstract ambience, a kaleidoscope of sounds and tones that engage the head and the heart.
In early 2018, Nathan Jenkins returned from the coast of Arrábida to his new home studio in a cottage tucked behind the grand hotel setting of Wim Wenders’ Lisbon Story. Breaking for lunches under a Datura tree in the garden and a far cry from the Finsbury Park basement flat he rented the previous year, a set of recordings followed that galvanised into an EP - ‘We Had A Good Time’. Music informed by out-of-town trips in a 1987 Renault 9 Super, Pitchfork attributed “remarkable healing powers” to lead song ‘Hula’.
After leaving London for a spell in Portugal, Nathan lost his taste for the night life and drew a line under a long-running NTS radio show. Much of the time spent abroad was dedicated to a longstanding collaboration with Westerman, whose album they recorded in a remote part of the Algarve countryside in 2019. Nathan’s own discography opened in 2007 with ‘Pet Sounds: In The Key Of Dee’, before pivoting in a more electronic direction via ‘Get Familiar’ and ‘Young Heartache’. From the sampledelia of 2011’s ‘Too Right’, the new wave and rave of ‘Say Arr Ee’ to the Robert Wyatt-influenced ‘Love Me Oh Please Love Me’, he’s mapped a deliberately peculiar path. 2015’s ‘Rooster’ was Eno & Byrne’s ‘Bush Of Ghosts’ given a shangaan-electro lick and clip. While Nathan’s partnership with fellow out-there pop auteur Jesse Hackett, as Blludd Relations, staggered like a half-cut Prince.
Collaged, rhythmic alternatives. Syncopated avant-garde sambas. Off kilter Sci-Fi jazz. Think Asha Putli in the spot at the Star Wars cantina. Arty, angular. Rich, but uncluttered. Frenetic, electric, blurring the boundaries between what is sampled, what is played. Nathan’s is a wilfully weird Pop, showcased in 2016 on his album ‘Loop The Loop’. Wayward but woven with hooks that come out of nowhere. Lyrical, often beautiful, solos on violin, oboe and desiccated guitars. Songs that demonstrate a nose-thumbing playfulness, a refusal to sit still. Where there’s always the urge to interrupt a carnival beat with a burst of galloping horse hooves. Or juxtapose ambient chords with a kazoo.
A roll call of Nathan’s broader musical adventures encompasses work with Paul Epworth, Sampha, Westerman and Nilüfer Yanya. Commissioned remixes reach from Dita Von Teese to Model 500, Tricky, Todd Terje and Lee “Scratch” Perry. Solo efforts gracing labels Honest Jon’s, R&S, Young Turks, Whities and The Trilogy Tapes. ‘Blue Pedro’, on the latter, making it into Crack Mag’s Top 100 Tracks Of The Decade.
In 2012 Nathan started his own label, DEEK Recordings, assuming the role of inhouse producer to collaborators. The imprint’s tagline and aesthetic - Pop, not slop! - is illustrated by an ongoing playlist of the same name and further explored in a series of compilations where Nathan and friends cover and reinterpret unsung ‘unclassics’ from alt. country to obscure 80s European arthouse scores, bouncing between Captain Beefheart, The Pixies, Sade and Mazzy Starr. DEEK’s roster is equally eccentric, non-linear and pop-literate. Laura Groves and Nautic - the realization and crystallization of a shared love for the Cocteau Twins.
12” pressed on crystal clear vinyl.
Digging deep through old and new, Basso captures arcane woodland fusion, serene electronic suites and wide eyed Balearic bliss on this first Growing Bin compilation.
This collection celebrates those precious records which land in your life on their own terms. Even the most advanced digger will admit that chance is the secret ingredient in any successful haul. Sure, it helps if you know where to look, but if you arrive a day early at that secluded second hand shop, or an hour late at the convention, you might miss out on a rare sight of sound. But there are still ways to skew the odds in your favour. Even in the most crowded urban environment, a solitary tree soon becomes a nest, and Basso's fostered an abundant garden in his Hamburg hometown. A decade on and the Growing Bin is a safe haven for those exquisite sounds crowded out of the mainstream, the rare birds with the most striking song.
'Coffee' comes right after cocoa in the bin's headquarter, though start your morning with One Tongue and be prepared for a different kind of day. A witch's brew spiced with a hint of Durian and the early bird, this 1990 composition could be the blueprint for the Teutonic trance dancers beloved by the Salon set. A more meditative magic flows through the A2, a smooth blend of fusion guitar, softly syncopated drums and counterpoint keys from one time art-rockers Inandout. This Growing Bin favourite from their '93-95' LP sounds right at home beside the majestic melodies and spheric bass of Matthias Raue's 'Brücke am schwarzen Fluss 2'. Taken from the soundtrack to a TV drama filmed in Mali, this digital homage to African rhythm shimmies in step with New Age dancers from Mkwaju Ensemble and Louis Crelier. The A-side ends with the unbridled optimism of Kosmische maverick Hardy Kukuk. The synthesist hit the studio with friends Karsten Raecke and Andreas Schneider in 86, coalescing crystalline electronics and gentle guitar into tender chord progressions suited for sun bathing beside the Sea of Tranquility.
The second side slinks into motion with the deep beauty and sincere spoken word of Frank Suchland's 'Schnee', a subtle body in a cocoon of reverb which takes Sade's 'I Never Thought I'd See The Day' to another level of placidness. Melancholic Germans Die Fische met in Cairo for the first time, and 'Conversation Of Everyday Lovers' could be the theme for that great city. Underpinned by primal percussion and a restrained groove, the track twists and turns between a trio of ineffable motifs, eternal combinations to the catacombs of Abusir. From there we go sublime, soaring skywards with a ten minute triumph from Hugh Mane. Balancing concentric sequences and space age synth riffs atop an irresistible breakbeat and bubbling bassline, the British producer finds a sensuous sweet-spot between fellow Growing Bin affiliates Krakatau and Singu.
Lucky are we who hear the Bin's sounds.
Patrick Ryder
VINYL[19,87 €]
Nahawa Doumbia's new album Kanawa concisely captures this current moment in Malian history. The singer, whose storied career spans more than four decades, reflects on the immigration crisis from the Malian perspective in the title of her new album Kanawa. Across eight songs recorded in Bamako with a band including traditional and modern instruments, Doumbia merges her early work that relied on a spare expression of her trademark didadi rhythm with the bombastic range of contemporary Malian pop. The beautifully complex musical accompaniment that results is courtesy of the large ensemble she pulled together with producer and arranger (and day one collaborator) N'gou Bagayoko. The band features two highly expressive Malian string instruments, the ngoni and the slightly smaller kamalé ngoni, as well as a variety of percussion, drum programming, karignan (a metal scraper) and acoustic and electric guitars. Doumbia's daughter, a celebrated singer with her own group and busy concert schedule, Doussou Bagayoko sings on "Adjorobena," a song about patience, tolerance and living in peace. Doumbia weaves together a roadmap of her psyche when it comes to the good and bad life has to offer. She talks about marriage and women leaving home to join another through the metaphor of a tree in the garden; she includes gunshot samples in the song "Foliwilen" to honor the bravery of hunters, soldiers and other courageous people; she uses a bird in "Djougoh" to talk about lazy people; and, in "Ndiagneko" she advises people to ignore critics, just do you. Mali has gone through an intense period of regional strife and terrorist incidents over the last ten years and Doumbia roots the album in tragic local concerns with deep global implications. "The meaning of Kanawa is so simple. We see our children trying to cross the ocean all the time. I said that many of our children die in the ocean and some of them die while crossing the Sahara. But I ask them why do they leave their country? They said that they leave because of the family situation or problems like poverty and unemployment. I ask them to stay and work in their country. I call on the UN and African leaders so that we can coordinate our efforts to find a solution, to create jobs for them so that young people stop leaving. That's why I chose it as the title of my album so that everybody can learn from it and also so that there is a reduction in the number of people emigrating. So that some will hear the message and stay home and grow the land. Leaving is not the only solution. My message is to help the youth find jobs."
CASSETTE[8,78 €]
Nahawa Doumbia's new album Kanawa concisely captures this current moment in Malian history. The singer, whose storied career spans more than four decades, reflects on the immigration crisis from the Malian perspective in the title of her new album Kanawa. Across eight songs recorded in Bamako with a band including traditional and modern instruments, Doumbia merges her early work that relied on a spare expression of her trademark didadi rhythm with the bombastic range of contemporary Malian pop. The beautifully complex musical accompaniment that results is courtesy of the large ensemble she pulled together with producer and arranger (and day one collaborator) N'gou Bagayoko. The band features two highly expressive Malian string instruments, the ngoni and the slightly smaller kamalé ngoni, as well as a variety of percussion, drum programming, karignan (a metal scraper) and acoustic and electric guitars. Doumbia's daughter, a celebrated singer with her own group and busy concert schedule, Doussou Bagayoko sings on "Adjorobena," a song about patience, tolerance and living in peace. Doumbia weaves together a roadmap of her psyche when it comes to the good and bad life has to offer. She talks about marriage and women leaving home to join another through the metaphor of a tree in the garden; she includes gunshot samples in the song "Foliwilen" to honor the bravery of hunters, soldiers and other courageous people; she uses a bird in "Djougoh" to talk about lazy people; and, in "Ndiagneko" she advises people to ignore critics, just do you. Mali has gone through an intense period of regional strife and terrorist incidents over the last ten years and Doumbia roots the album in tragic local concerns with deep global implications. "The meaning of Kanawa is so simple. We see our children trying to cross the ocean all the time. I said that many of our children die in the ocean and some of them die while crossing the Sahara. But I ask them why do they leave their country? They said that they leave because of the family situation or problems like poverty and unemployment. I ask them to stay and work in their country. I call on the UN and African leaders so that we can coordinate our efforts to find a solution, to create jobs for them so that young people stop leaving. That's why I chose it as the title of my album so that everybody can learn from it and also so that there is a reduction in the number of people emigrating. So that some will hear the message and stay home and grow the land. Leaving is not the only solution. My message is to help the youth find jobs."




















