quête:linda ne

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Gianni’s diverse profile is reflected both in his scene-hopping as well as his music. Besides producing Cologne Popbands like “Keshavara,” “Woman” and “Xul Zolar,” Gianni has released a number of EP and LP’s since 2017, culminating most recently with “Filigrani” EP in 2023 on Jakarta. Gianni’s new LP, “Sprechiamo!” is a meditation around Marvin’s relationship with Italian culture accompanied by research into Italian music such as Napoli Exchange, the Periodica label or Giuliano Sorgini. Within the album Gianni was looking less for his roots and moreover for his existing Italian bonds & vivid cultural exchange in his current habitat of Cologne, which he is rediscovering time and again by wandering through his neighborhood Ehrenfeld, Cologne. The quarter hosting a vivid scene of Italians who came in the 1950s, such as Gianni’s grandparents once did. “Sprechiamo! is a timeless release, one that would sit just as well in 1979 as it does in 2025. Vivid Italian references from composers of the 60’s / 70’s to recent Peridoica, allways mixed with a bit of Khrunagbin & Sven Wunder to give it Gianni’s own touch. Jakarta Records is ecstatic to share such a high-water mark of an album, arriving physically and digitally March 28th, 2025.

Credits:

Alt Sax: Johanna Klein & Inga Rothammel
Flute: Connie Trieder
Percussion (Hold The Wine): Gabriel Rodriguez
Piano (Chronos): Dario Bassolino
Piano (Via Xifonia): Simon Below
Percussion (Hold The Wine): Gabriel Rodriguez
Rhodes Piano: Jan Alexander
Synthesizer (Bapha): Eva Sviderski
Tenor Sax: Florian Fries
Violin (Bapha): Florian Meier
Vox (Chronos): Linda Feki

All songs written & produced by Marvin Horsch.
Fine With Me written by Simon Below & Marvin Horsch.

After digging deep into the overwhelming archives of Discos Fuentes and Codiscos in our previous volumes, this third instalment in the series "Cumbia Cumbia Cumbia!!!" comprises a selection of 28 Peruvian cumbia bangers for the dance floor from the deep vaults of Discos MAG, all of them originally released between 1964 and 1987. "Cumbia Cumbia Cumbia!!!" combines well-known classics and rarities that are difficult to find in their original formats. An invitation to enjoy and be amazed, above and beyond ethnographic and academic concerns. The historical origins of cumbia are nebulous and imprecise. The mythology surrounding it suggests an ancient past when Amerindian, African and European musical sounds were mixed together. MAG had released porros since the label was set up, and by 1957 it was already selling records by the Colombian Lucho Bermúdez, a leading figure in porro and cumbia in orchestra format, from Buenos Aires. Colombian cumbia has come a long way in Peru since those years and put down its own roots, just as it has in other Latin American countries. This third volume of the series "Cumbia, cumbia, cumbia" demonstrates how the rhythm has persisted over three decades of Peruvian recordings, ranging from versions by orchestras and ensembles to original cumbias with electric guitars, with lingering echoes of Caracas-born Hugo Blanco, Tulio Enrique León, Los Teen Agers and Amparito Jiménez. These records were played nonstop in the Peruvian coast, mountains and jungle to the cry of "¡que sigue la cumbia!". Double vinyl LP!

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Mongolian hip-hop producer Bodikhu has never been to Rio but this is his lovely letter to the city he has often dreamt of. He has a love of the great Joao Gilberto and armed with that and a worm out MPC he set to work, laying down tropical beats and sunny melodies. The result became an instant classic and spawned a number of tunes that went on to pick up more than a million streams. It's a record that excites the imagination as well as warming the soul and this version comes with superb original artwork designed by illustrator David Burnett on a lovely splatter-coloured vinyl inspired by its own cover.

Aunes is a rare solo album from peripatetic Australian cellist-composer-performer Judith Hamann, presenting six pieces recorded across several years and countries. Developing the collage techniques and expanded sound palettes heard on their previous releases, Aunes makes use of synthesizers, organ, voice and location recordings alongside the dazzlingly pure, enveloping tones of Hamann's cello. The record takes its name from an old French unit of measurement for fabric, varying around the country and from material to material. Unlike the platinum metre bar deposited in the National Archives after the Revolution as an immovable standard, an aune of silk differed from an aune of linen: the measure could not be separated from the material. In much the same way, in these six pieces_which Hamann thinks of as `songs'_formal aspects such as tuning, pacing, melodic shape and timbre are not abstractions applied universally to musical material but are inextricable from the instruments and sounds used, even from the places and communities in which the music was made. Audible location sound embeds the music in its place of making, as in the delicate duet for church organ and wordless singing `schloss, night', where shuffles and cluttering in the reverberant church space form a phantom accompaniment, gradually displaced by a uneasy shimmer of wavering tones from half-opened organ stops. `Casa Di Riposo, Gesu' Redentore' documents a walk up a hill to an outdoor mass in Chiusure, layering voices near and far with footsteps, insects and other incidental sounds. Like in the work of Moniek Darge or Luc Ferrari, location recordings are folded on themselves in space and time, their documentary function dislocated to dreamlike effect. On other pieces, it is the emphatic presence of the performing body that grounds the music, whether in the intimate fragility of Hamann's softly sung and hummed vocal tones or the clothing that rustles across a microphone on the opening `by the line'. The idea of a music inextricable from its material conditions is perhaps most strikingly communicated on the album's briefest piece `bruststärke (lung song)', composed from layered whistling recorded while Hamann suffered through an asthma flare up, the results halfway between field recordings of an imaginary aviary and the audiopoems of Henri Chopin. More than any of Hamann's previous solo works, a strong melodic sensibility runs through Aunes, even when, like on `seventeen fabrics of measure', the music hangs together by the merest thread. At other points, Hamann's love of pop music is more obvious: the rich synth harmonies of `by the line' could almost be a melting fragment of a backing track from Hounds of Love. The expansive closing piece `neither from nor toward' exemplifies the highly personal musical language that Hamann has developed in recent years through constant solo performance (and a rigorous discipline of instrumental practice), pairing two overdubbed voices with the boundless depth and harmonic richness of just-intoned cello notes, calling up Ockegham or Linda Caitlin Smith in its elegiac slow motion arcs. Hamann's most personal work yet, Aunes arrives in a striking sleeve reproducing a section of a painting made from sewn pieces of dyed wool by Wilder Alison, a friend and fellow resident at Akademie Schloss Solitude, one of the temporary homes where much of this music was recorded.

Orange/Black/Sunburst Vinyl "Choice Quality Stuff/Anytime," released in 1971, marked the third studio album by It's a Beautiful Day, a band celebrated for their eclectic blend of rock, jazz, folk, classical, and world-beat influences. Formed in 1967 in San Francisco during the height of the city's vibrant music scene, the band initially featured vocalist Pattie Santos, violinist David LaFlamme, and keyboardist Linda LaFlamme. Their distinct sound, highlighted by David's five-string violin, set them apart from their contemporaries, even though they never reached the same level of fame as Jefferson Airplane or Santana. By the time of this album, the band's lineup had shifted significantly. Founding members Mitchell Holman and Hal Wagenet had departed, replaced by bassist Tom Fowler (later known for his work with Frank Zappa) and guitarist Bill Gregory. The album, recorded amid these transitions, reflects both the band's creative maturity and their ability to evolve while staying true to their signature style. Tracks like "Creed of Love" and "Anytime" exemplify their musical diversity and lyrical depth. "Choice Quality Stuff/Anytime" was a continuation of the band's legacy, cementing their place as a unique voice in the late 60s and early 70s rock scene, even as their lineup and fortunes changed.

Purple Vinyl. "Choice Quality Stuff/Anytime," released in 1971, marked the third studio album by It's a Beautiful Day, a band celebrated for their eclectic blend of rock, jazz, folk, classical, and world-beat influences. Formed in 1967 in San Francisco during the height of the city's vibrant music scene, the band initially featured vocalist Pattie Santos, violinist David LaFlamme, and keyboardist Linda LaFlamme. Their distinct sound, highlighted by David's five-string violin, set them apart from their contemporaries, even though they never reached the same level of fame as Jefferson Airplane or Santana. By the time of this album, the band's lineup had shifted significantly. Founding members Mitchell Holman and Hal Wagenet had departed, replaced by bassist Tom Fowler (later known for his work with Frank Zappa) and guitarist Bill Gregory. The album, recorded amid these transitions, reflects both the band's creative maturity and their ability to evolve while staying true to their signature style. Tracks like "Creed of Love" and "Anytime" exemplify their musical diversity and lyrical depth. "Choice Quality Stuff/Anytime" was a continuation of the band's legacy, cementing their place as a unique voice in the late 60s and early 70s rock scene, even as their lineup and fortunes changed.

The complete LP + 2 bonus tracks - pressed on 180g virgin vinyl - a limited edition of just 500 copies Ramon "Mongo" Santamaria Rodriguez ("Mongo" is Cuban slang for Ramon) is best known for being the composer of the jazz standard ' Afro Blue, recorded by John Coltrane among others. In 1950 he moved to New York where he became an integral figure in the fusion of Afro-Cuban rhythms with R&B and soul, paving the way for the boogaloo era of the late 1960s. Mongo's 1963 hit rendition of Herbie Hancock's 'Watermelon Man' wasinducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. This release presents Mongo's complete LP 'Mongo Introduces La Lupe', on which he is joined on some tracks by singer Guadalupe Victoria Yoli Raymond, popularly known as, "La Lupe."

The complete album + 4 bonus tracks - pressed on limited edition 180g virgin vinyl

Baden Powell de Aquino, better known simply as Baden Powell (1937 - 2000), was one
of the most prominent and celebrated Brazilian guitarists and guitar composers of his
time. He combined classical techniques with popular harmony and swing, and
performed in many styles including bossa nova, samba, Brazilian jazz, Latin jazz, and
Brazilian popular music.
This release presents his second album as a leader, 'Um violao na madrugada',to which
four 1959 tracks have been added as a bonus, including a version of Powell's
composition "Consolacao" performed with American flutist Herbie Mann.

Carrying the torch of psychedelic cumbia, with a healthy dose
of surf guitar and Amazonian dancefloor flourishes from Peru
and Brazil alike, Fiesta en la Jungla by Los Dexter’s de Uchiza
is the first release from the newly formed London-label Ritmo
del Barrio. Originally released in 1982, it captures the finest
cumbia being made in Peru at the time, decked out with
frenetic surf-rock guitar riffs, rhythms floating on crisp
cumbia percussion and occasionally punctuated by carimbó
breakdowns native to the Pará region of north-eastern Brazil.
The album is filled with energy, a gem that was always
intended to animate any dancefloor. Peruvian cumbia came to national attention in the late 60s
through the recordings of Juaneco y su Combo, Los Destellos
and Los Wembler’s de Iquitos, but it’s had many revivals, and
Fiesta en la Jungla arrived when the style was going through a
major transition. In 1977, a passenger plane carrying most of
the members of Juaneco y su Combo crashed, killing everyone
on board. In 1980, Los Destellos retired, and Los Wembler’s
released their tenth and final record, they were ready for a
break. This left a big void in Peruvian music. Wasting no time,
Los Dexter’s Emerson Ruiz Mosquera took the opportunity and
gave his band new life, filling the band’s ranks with young and
energetic musicians who were hungry for success. He built the
new band around a solid base of dexterous guitars, a dynamite
rhythm section, and added oodles of percussion and an electric
organ, giving them a powerful psychedelic sound that called
back to the sounds of the original chichamasters, but added a
new sheen. Along with bands like Los Shapis and Los Walkers
de Huánuco, Peruvian cumbia was reborn as chicha in the
1980s, and was now the sound of Peru’s barrios up and down
the country.
Based in the city of Uchiza, on the edges of the Amazon basin,
Los Dexter’s were uniquely located in central Peru, closer to the
largest urban centres of the country than Amazonian outposts
like Pucallpa or Iquitos, and therefore better positioned to
travel to the furthest reaches of the country with ease. In a
sense, Los Dexter’s were a bridge between the Amazon and the
rest of Peru, a bridge over which the sounds of Amazonian
cumbia could travel to the rest of the country on their way to
becoming one of the most ubiquitous elements of Peru’s musical
identity. Fiesta en la Jungla represents Los Dexter’s in their third
iteration. Led by Emerson Ruiz Mosquera, who was just a
young boy in 1970 when his older brother founded the group
with four of his friends, the ensemble by the time of Fiesta en la
Jungla included Orlando Abad on the timbales and lead vocals,
Lucho Bendezú on lead guitar, Javier Quiroz as second
guitarist, Alejandro Almeira on bass, Rufino Bustamante on
keyboard, Ramon Siu on bongos and bells, Ivan Rios on conga,
and Emerson as musical director and composer. Remarkably,
most of the group’s members helped to write at least one
track, Los Dexter’s were a collective endeavour.
Reissued on vinyl for the first time by Ritmo del Barrio, this
record is essential for any collector of Peruvian cumbia.
Showcasing the unique sound of Los Dexter’s, it carries hits
like “Fuga en la Selva” and “El Shiringuero”, which are sure to
set any dancefloor on fire, combined with slower, carimbó-
infused cumbias like “Fiesta en la Jungla,”and “Agua de
Cachilde.” Its closing track, “Tragedia en Uchiza'', is a key
piece of local history and tells of the flooding of the
Chontayacu River in 1982, a mortal tragedy that affected
thousands of people. Despite the subject matter, the album
maintains a joyful vibe throughout, with high energy riffs and
irresistible rhythms, contrasted with terse love ballads, like “A
Jhenny.” It is both a piece of musical history, and a sure-fire
tool for the dance floor.
Los Dexter’s became a fixture of festivals and celebrations in
the provinces of San Martin and Huánuco, and from expanded
across the country, taking Amazonian cumbia from the
Peruvian Amazon, to the heights of the Peruvian sierra, the
coastal plains, and the capital city of Lima.

The heyday of American baroque pop – or chamber pop - ran from 1966 to the turn of the seventies. It used string quartets, harpsichords and woodwinds to create a summer-into-autumn melancholy that was quite new, and quite far removed from rock’n’roll as Eddie Cochran would have known it. Baroque pop’s musicians often came from a folk background, with an affinity for acoustic instrumentation. Linda Ronstadt's first band the Stone Poneys had introduced the autoharp to their line-ups in 1965, while the likes of Bonnie Dobson and Nico experimented with a string quartet’s, searching for different, post-electric Dylan directions.

The Durutti Column, Linda Perhacs, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Judee Sill. Hello and welcome to Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking, the new record by Lina Tullgren. It is a deeply gorgeous intervention, a carefully ornamented dilemma, the most inviting crisis. Made with a host of Los Angeles musicians, Decide exposes Tullgren's daring and trust. Each song is a ring of curious sound: the skip of harp strings, the flutter of woodwinds, the ratchet of percussion, the euphonium's sigh. And at the center of each wreath, Tullgren sings, finding this space between Judee Sill and Sam Jayne. It's a tone that signals weariness, but a weariness hand-in-hand with tenacity. There's a clarity, a kind of immovability. Lina Tullgren's first record came in 2016, a homemade, under-the-skin set of laments. Subsequent LPs and constant touring cemented Tullgren's reputation as a composer of "wide-eyed wonder paired with a resonant despair." 2019's Free Cell showed Tullgren lingering in the margins of their songs, finding places both aloof and spare. Floodgates opened; Tullgren spent the subsequent years exploring deep listening, improvised music, and extended technique. They developed a patience and faith in cooperation that ranged at the far edge of song. Collaborations with Mayo Thompson and Claire Rousay furthered this development. This was not a break with the past for Tullgren, rather it was an opportunity to see how far a song could go. And from that distance, deep in a landscape of drone and tension, Tullgren returned to the bright vulnerability of a lyric and a hook. Weaving together the affective and the radical, Tullgren took the quiet isolation of a shoreline cabin to write the songs that would become Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking. For Tullgren, Decide is a culmination of all the work they've done throughout their life: the melodic, the dense, the confessional, the unknowable. It's also a tribute to collaboration. Describing the sessions as having "a lot of space and a lot of ease,"" Tullgren invited musicians from a vast field of songmaking to play on the recording: Leng Bian, Zach Burba, Luke Csehak, Corey Fogel, Jenny Hirons, Tara Milch, Tim Ramsey, Michael Sachs, Jude Tedaldi, Marta Tiesenga and Ben Varian. Jonny Kosmo's backhouse was offered as a cozy, easygoing space for the players to create their parts together, and the record was completed by Tullgren and Luke Csehak together at their Los Angeles home. In Tullgren's words: "I feel really strongly that this album is a portrait of the community I found in Los Angeles." Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking is a quiet masterpiece: a generous, memorable journey. It is the result of five years of labor, the product of abandoning the pop song entirely and starting over. Whatever wanderings or doubt fueled it, Decide is also entirely at ease: a record on which Tullgren sings "and I know/what to do now" and "I know exactly what to do" in subsequent songs, clear in the revelations this path has given the

Das neue Album der kalifornischen Punks von Destroy Boys - inklusive der Tracks Shadow (I'm Breaking Down) & Plucked.
In Zusammenarbeit mit Carlos De La Garza entstanden (Bad Religion, Paramore, The Linda Lindas), umfasst das neue Album Funeral Soundtrack #4
alles von Garagenpunk bis hin zu 90er Jahre College-Indie-Rock. Auf dem neuen Album sind Missy Dabice von Mannequin Pussy und Kat Moss von
Scowl zu hören.
Das Trio, bestehend aus Sängerin Alexia Roditis, Gitarristin Violet Mayugba und Schlagzeuger Narsai Malik, tourte bereits mit Alkaline Trio & Taking
Back Sunday durch Großbritannien, trat beim Slam Dunk, Roskilde, SBAM! und Sziget auf, war mehrmals in den USA unterwegs und trat beim Riot
Fest, Dia De Los Deftones und Coachella auf. Außerdem supporteten sie Blink-182 + Turnstile & Pierce The Veil im Jahr 2023. Für 2024 sind Auftritte
beim Lollapalooza und eine Tour mit Cavetown und Mother Mother geplant.

Surely one of the end of year 2012 hits and now available on CD, this debut album from Jessica Pratt got some rave blogosphere reviewage, Highly recommended!! "I never wanted to ever start a record label. Ever. But there is something about her voice I couldn't let go of. It's an actual voice. An actual beautiful voice. This ones a classic sounding voice. Not to mention her song writing, recording and guitar playing. JESSICA PRATT's music feels like I have found a lost LP of an old forgotten mystical folk singer, that feeling of discovering a record all by myself: Without the help of friends or the Internet. Like Stevie Nicks singing over David Crosby demos, with the intimacy of a Sibylle Baier. I am in love with it. So much, that I saved up and threw all my money to get it into this world. I actually care about it, no matter which way the winds blow."-Tim Presley, White Fence: FOR FANS OF Marissa Nadler / Linda Perhacs / first vinyl pressing of 500 now sold out? Second pressing now in Stock!! 8/10 in the latest Uncut. dont miss this ..

This collection features sixteen of the most renowned salsa and Latin soul singles released on Fania Records, and its subsidiaries, between 1964-1978, making it the perfect introduction to the legendary catalog. It celebrates the trailblazing label’s 60th anniversary, and iconic artists Willie Colón, Héctor Lavoe, Rubén Blades, Johnny Pacheco, Celia Cruz and more. Archival images and new liner notes, in English and Spanish, by New York-based music historian Aurora Flores are also included.

Theresa Stroetges returns to Karaoke Kalk with her second album for the Berlin-based label, her fifth solo full-length with her Golden Diskó Ship project in total. Having released records with the Indian-German band project Hotel Kali as well as Painting, a group dedicated to audio-visual concepts, »Oval Sun Patch« sees her embrace influences from club culture, advanced electronic music, and pop more firmly than ever before. Over the past 15 years, Golden Diskó Ship has served a vessel with which the Berlin-based multi-instrumentalist has traversed a variety of genres and circumnavigated all conventions in the process. With »Oval Sun Patch,« Stroetges again sets sail into unknown waters with what is perhaps her catchiest album so far—beat-driven, playful, atmospheric, and at times thoroughly anthemic. This is the sound of Golden Diskó Ship moving forward.

A life lived in transit, the vastness of bodies of water and the isolation of islands as well as more generally notions of processes and progress have been recurring motives throughout Stroetges’ previous records and also mark »Oval Sun Patch.« In fact, the foundation for the six pieces was laid when she was working abroad and at times close to the sea. The massive three-part album closer »Earth Before The Space Race« was conceived as a multi-channel audio-visual performance piece during a 2021 residency at Zaratan Arte Contemporânea in Lisbon. The others were written in the following year during two other residencies when Stroetges first spent time in Austria at the sound art festival Klangmanifeste in Lindabrunn and then visited Portugal once more for a stay at Goethe-Institut in Lisbon. With the help of Shelley Barradas, who lent her a guitar, and Julia Klein, who helped her setting up a temporary studio in the Goethe-Institut Portugal’s auditorium, she made the preliminary recordings of what would later become this album.

»Oval Sun Patch«, later refined in Berlin and mixed in close collaboration with London-based engineer Hannes Plattmeier, is a direct result of Stroetges having to work with what was available to her at the time of writing and recording. While her distinct guitar playing—evocative yet funky, complex but catchy—once more features heavily and she uses her voice in manifold ways to sometimes harmonise with herself or creating complex canons as counterpoints to her her own lead vocals, the electronic gear she worked with dominates the album both compositionally and sonically. Stroetges’ music has always displayed a passion for club culture and advanced electronic music, but on »Oval Sun Patch« she proves once and for all how well these influences can be integrated into her unconventional approach to songwriting.

However, the punchy beat and Moroder-like bassline that form the backbone of »Dolphins With Soft Helmets,« the throbbing house and techno grooves underneath »Ephemeral Carnivores« and »Well-Oiled Machine« as well as the jittery IDM rhythms of »Google Your New Name« and her nods to trip-hop with »Tiny Island« do not so much follow established formulas as they use them as a starting point for wild experimentation instead. Stroetges juxtaposes complex rhythms with interlocking melodies and rich harmonies in ways that continue to surprise throughout and still leave enough space for the occasional wistful guitar or vocal passage. Nowhere does this approach feel more epic than on the 12 ½ minutes long »Earth Before The Space Race,« which takes its time to unfold, changing its pace and mood throughout.

»Oval Sun Patch« is an album about change. The lyrics describe constant transformations of sceneries, relationships, physical and emotional states as well as the climate throughout its running time. Stroetges in the meanwhile leads the way as a singer, songwriter and producer who lets her music evolve constantly. This is sound, moving forward.

Der deutsche-amerikanische Pianist Benjamin Lackner ist mit einem neu formierten Quintett zurück, das
er für eine besonders intensive Aufnahmesession im Frühling 2024 in der Provence zusammengestellt hat.
Mit der hochkarätigen Gruppe präsentiert er eine frische und spannende Seite seiner kompositorischen
Bandbreite. Mathias Eick ist der einzige Wiederkehrende von Lackners Debüt Last Decade und in markantem Dualismus mit Mark Turners eigenwilliger Saxophon-Dialektik zu hören – ein Schlüsselmerkmal des
Zusammenspiels auf Spindrift. Zum Bläserduo und dem Pianisten gesellen sich die international gefragte
Bassistin Linda May Han Oh und der französische Schlagzeuger Matthieu Chazarenc, der schon lange zu
Lackners Trio gehört. Subtile Fanfaren treffen auf kontemplativen Lyrismus in einem Programm eigener
Kompositionen, bei denen Melodie und Ensemblezusammenspiel immer an erster Stelle stehen. Saxophon
und Trompete übernehmen die Führung, bilden eine eigene kleine Einheit und tragen mit elegant ineinander
verwobenen Linien und bestechenden Soli zu einem besonders harmonischen Gruppensound und infektiös
melodischen Stücken bei. Das Album wurde von Manfred Eicher produziert.

Jack Adkins, the creative force behind the moniker Jamin’ Jack, has a multifaceted musical journey that began in the mid-'60s in Cincinnati. Initially cutting his musical teeth in garage bands like the Coachmen, Adkins would later embark on a decade-long journey as Jamin’ Jack, the One Man Band, from 1983 to 1993. A pivotal moment unfolded in the early '80s when, at the age of 36, Adkins walked into London Music studio in Tampa to record his debut LP, 'American Sunset.' This album, distinguished by its evocative portrayal of the West's decline, emerged as a defining piece in Adkins's musical repertoire. Its sonic landscape, characterized by guitars and drum machines, resonates with a familiar and poignant atmosphere. The subsequent decade witnessed Adkins assuming the persona of Jamin’ Jack, the One Man Band, embarking on an extensive ten-year tour. Adapting to a corporate presentation style, he not only refined his musical craft but also mastered the art of bantering and entertaining, overcoming his initial shyness. During this nomadic period, Adkins carried the master tapes of 'American Sunset' with him on the road. In a poetic expression of his transient lifestyle, he pressed LPs and tapes in Houston, selling them directly at various venues. The album, at its zenith, serves as a sonic backdrop to the lonesome and transient life on the road, encapsulating the essence of a nation seemingly heading into the sunset. 'American Sunset' stands as a must-listen for enthusiasts of Trans-era Neil Young and the dystopian vibes reminiscent of Repo Man, offering a captivating musical narrative that echoes the spirit of its time. Neofolk electronica? we're not sure, but its just amazing! Only 500 units of this 'sunset' coloured vinyl will ever exist. You waited 40 years for this anniversary meeting, so don't blow it, buy it!