"A sparkling mixture of American and British stars, featuring 23 of the biggest Christmas songs ever recorded. With Elvis Presley wishes you a “Blue Christmas”, the Drifters wishing you a “White Christmas”, a “Christmas Prayer” by Billy Fury, a “Christmas Present” from Solomon Burke, “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” with Brenda Lee, “Twistin’ Bells” by Santo & Johnny, and the “Jingle Bell Rock” with Chubby Checker & Bobby Rydell. The Cadillacs sings “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer” and Chuck Berry “Runs With Rudolph”, Frankie Valli & The 4 Seasons “Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”, Johnny Cash with his “Little Drummer Boy” and finally David Seville and the Chipmunks with “The Chipmunk Song”."
"A sparkling mixture of American and British stars, featuring 23 of the biggest Christmas songs ever recorded. With Elvis Presley wishes you a “Blue Christmas”, the Drifters wishing you a “White Christmas”, a “Christmas Prayer” by Billy Fury, a “Christmas Present” from Solomon Burke, “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” with Brenda Lee, “Twistin’ Bells” by Santo & Johnny, and the “Jingle Bell Rock” with Chubby Checker & Bobby Rydell. The Cadillacs sings “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer” and Chuck Berry “Runs With Rudolph”, Frankie Valli & The 4 Seasons “Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”, Johnny Cash with his “Little Drummer Boy” and finally David Seville and the Chipmunks with “The Chipmunk Song”."
"This Christmas album – a limited edition on transparent red vinyl - contains some of the biggest evergreens of the season. These are the holiday songs you know by heart, the ones that immediately put you in the Christmas mood. Featuring Bing Crosby, Elvis Presley, Brenda Lee, Johnny Cash, Louis Armstrong, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald and many others."
Mac DeMarco's debut full length, 2, released in 2012, cleaned up the songwriter's warped take on soft rock and brought it to a broader audience. Given DeMarco's affinity for keeping things lo-fi _ 2 was the first time he'd bothered to record demos _ it's revealing to hear these songs in their most embryonic form. The performances here are a little looser and the sound a little hazier than on the actual LP, lending an atmosphere of dreamy vulnerability, especially to ballads like "Annie" and the Lennon-esque "Sherrill." Captured Tracks now brings this limited edition demos release back in print on green vinyl to celebrate the label's 10th Anniversary.
Mit der neuen Doppel-LP 'Long Distance Love - A Sweet Relief Tribute to Lowell George' hat Sweet Relief, die Organisation, die alle Arten von Berufsmusikern und Beschäftigten der Musikindustrie finanziell unterstützt, die mit körperlichen oder geistigen Problemen, Behinderungen oder altersbedingten Problemen zu kämpfen haben, ein Juwel vorgelegt.
Lowell George war der Gitarrenvirtuose, Sänger und Songschreiber von Little Feat. In dieser Sammlung von 25 Liedern interpretieren und spielen Künstler wie Elvis Costello, Ben Harper und Dave Alvin seinen vielfältigen Katalog. Der in Hollywood, Kalifornien, geborene George war Mitglied von Frank Zappas Mothers of Inventions, bevor er diese Band verließ und mit Bill Payne Little Feat gründete. Lowell gehörte der Band 7 Jahre lang bis zu seinem Tod an und veröffentlichte in dieser Zeit acht Alben. Obwohl George 1979 starb, lebt sein Vermächtnis durch dieses Album weiter.
Zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl erscheint diese beeindruckende Sammlung von Sessions, die Dusty zwischen 1962
und 1970 für die BBC aufgenommen hat und die ursprünglich 2007 auf CD veröffentlicht wurde.
Die 22 Tracks sind die Session-Aufnahmen, die überlebt haben (die BBC nahm in der Vergangenheit
aus Kostengründen viele Sessions auf) und in guter Klangqualität erhalten geblieben sind. Das Set enthält
drei Titel, die im Juli 1962 als Teil von The Springfields in einem anderen, folkigeren Stil aufgenommen
wurden als ihre späteren Aufnahmen.
Zu den Highlights gehört eine Auswahl ihrer stets makellosen Coverversionen, darunter Stevie Wonders Uptight (Everything’s Alright), The Rascals’ Good Lovin’, Jackie Wilsons R&B-Stomper Higher and Higher
(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) und der Bee Gees-Klassiker To Love Somebody. Zu den anderen Titeln
gehören BBC-Interpretationen einiger ihrer größten Hits - Wishin’ and Hopin’, Little by Little, You Don’t
Have to Say You Love Me, Son of a Preacher Man und I Just Don’t Know What to with Myself.
Die 2 LPs sind am 8. November auf allen Plattformen erhältlich.
Recorded at the Studio Acousti, Paris, September 23, 1965.
Original LP issue: International Polydor Production – 46.871.
This self-titled album is a testimony of the short lived-band led by New-York drummer Ron Jefferson during his stay in Paris in the mid-60s. After a first album under his name on Pacific Jazz in 1962, the founding member of The Jazz Modes and the Les McCann trio made the trip overseas.
Here, he made his living by playing with the popular pianists Errol Parker or Hazel Scott but his main drive was this trio that he formed with two other US expats, bassist Roland Haynes (the same musician who recorded an album on Black Jazz as a pianist, as confirmed by Kirk Lightsey) and guitarist Buz Saviano. After a highly successful show at ‘Palais de Chaillot’ in 1965, they were invited for a series of concerts in Dakar Sénégal. On their return, Polydor International proposed them this session. You can hear the deep impact their stay in the Motherland had on their music on the stand-out track ‘Africa the Beautiful’. On pair with the best of Yusef Lateef’s afro-eastern explorations from the time, it showcases Ron on flute and Senegalese percussion. The album release nonetheless was a commercial failure that prompted the band’s separation and Ron’s return to New-York where he performed until his passing in 2007.
Only a few copies of this record ever made it to the shops at the time and very few have had the chance to listen to it before this legit reissue remastered from the original MONO master tapes.
– Antoine Rajon –
Ron Jefferson (Drums & Flute)
Buz Saviano (Guitar)
Roland Haynes (Bass)
Jackie Robinson (Vocal on The Speaker)
Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".
Area Silenzio is eat-girls" debut record and it is both haunted and haunting. For the past four years, the French trio have been crafting their songs into little self-contained worlds with the patience of entomologists, taking them out all over the country and Europe to confront them with the wilderness of a live audience. The ten resulting tracks are a collection of electronic madrigals, groove-driven songs played on a mischievous multi-speed Victrola, ranging from languid dub drips to full-on drum machine cavalcades. Their live performances have that same ghostly, ephemeral quality. There is something other-worldy about the three of them, a suggestion of telepathy, their three voices blending together or going their separate ways like a flock of starlings. They secured opening slots with artists as different as Thalia Zedek, Exek and The Young Gods, just to name a few. It is the elusive essence of their music that allows them to feel at ease pretty much anywhere they find themselves: part no-wave disco rhythms, part post-punk throbbing basses, folk tunes and synthesizers in equal measures, with a perpetual attention to hooks and melodies. The album was self-recorded, a necessary measure to protect the delicate nature of the inner landscapes painted by the band. In this case "delicate" does not mean "soft" by any means: the industrial disco inferno of "A Kin", the ritualistic kraut stampede of "Para Los Pies Cansados" and the bubbly post-funk rhythms of "Trauschaft" will leave you gasping for air once you come out on the other side. "On a Crooked Swing", the opener, is all arpeggiated bass and stumbling kicks. "Unison" will dip you into a hallucinatory river where nothing is what it seems to be and rescue you at the very last second. "Canine", the first single off the record, will gently but firmly reach for your jugular with its vulpine Farfisa and deceptively nonchalant drum beat. The vocal polyphonies on "3 Omens" sound like a field recording of traditional music from a tiny country that has yet to be discovered. eat-girls exist on a slightly different plane from ours, where everything is teeming with secrets and hidden life. Area Silenzio is a precious polaroid shot from that world, or, as Tom Verlaine would have it, "a souvenir from a dream".
The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.
Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.
Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.
Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”
Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.
The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.
The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.
Has the American myth finally run its course?
The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.
Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.
Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.
Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”
Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.
The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.
The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.
Has the American myth finally run its course?
The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.
Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.
Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.
Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”
Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.
The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.
The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.
Has the American myth finally run its course?
DITC’s legendary producer Buckwild is back with his second producer album of 2020, aptly titled “Music Is My Religion”. His devotion to the craft has made history and continues to do so, with the Bronx’s producer collaborating with more and more interesting new names in today’s game. On this new offering he has gathered guest appearances by Fred The Godson (RIP), Willie The Kid, Planet Asia, Milano Constantine, Has Kingpin, Flee Lord Daniel Son, Rim of Da Villins and Jay Royale among others.
"‘I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You’ runs the stylistic gambit without feeling Franklin is doing things just for show. The album isn’t trying to function as a resumé of her skills. Genre shifts feel organic and natural. “Don’t Let Me Lose This Dream” is built on a bossa nova groove, while “Do Right Woman Do Right Man” has a little country ballad flavor. “Dr Feelgood (Love Is A Serious Business)”—one of four songs penned by Franklin herself—is a bluesy belter. She might have been Queen of the genre, but pigeonholing Franklin in soul is like calling Sugar Ray Leonard just a welterweight. She could shuffle through styles as smooth as velvet. Everything is stamped with her own distinct character."
Fresh from starring as the town drunk, no typecasting here!, in Rio Bravo’ (the movie) Dean was at the height of his popularity when he entered the Capitol studios in the summer of 1959 to record his first Christmas-themed songs accompanied by an orchestra arranged and conducted by Gus Levene. The results of the recordings were a charming, thoroughly entertaining Christmas record, highlighted by fine versions of "White Christmas", "Let It Snow! Let it Snow! Let It Snow!", "Winter Wonderland", "Baby, It's Cold Outside", "The Christmas Blues", “Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer” and bonus broadcast recordings of "Silent Night", “Silver Bells” and “It’s Beginning To Look Like Christmas.”
Since its release in 2013, Nick Lowe’s holiday album Quality Street: A Seasonal Selection for All the Family has been critically lauded for “the retro-reinvention of the Christmas album” (Uncut) and was heralded by TIME and Rolling Stone as one of the greatest holiday records of all time. Featuring original tunes by St. Nick himself, such as the witty “Christmas at the Airport” and tender “I Was Born in Bethlehem,” to reimagined covers like an ironically bombastic, swinging rendition of “Silent Night” and the rearranging of Wizzard’s “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day” and Roger Miller’s “Old Toy Trains.”
Some of Lowe’s collaborators and admirers make songwriting appearances on the album as well, including the Ron Sexsmith-penned “Hooves on the Roof” and Lowe’s co-write with his former Little Village bandmate Ry Cooder on “A Dollar Short of Happy.” Rolling Stone said it best that an album like Quality Street is “worthy of your holiday bonus.”
This green vinyl pressing of the album is limited to 500 copies worldwide!
Before you ancients out there turn your heads and scoff at the premise of a twenty-something rock-and-roll goofball calling himself an old-anything, consider this: Mac DeMarco has spent the better part of his time thus far writing, recording, and releasing an album of his own music pretty much every calendar flip. This Old Dog makes for his fifth in just over half a decade_bringing the total to 3 LPs and 2 EPs. According to the DMV, DeMarco is 26. But in working-dog years, ol' Mac here could easily qualify for social security. To stay gold, turns out all he needed was some new tricks. It was a little space_in time, location, and method_that inspired DeMarco while making the record. Moving from his isolated Queens home to a house in Los Angeles helped give the somewhat transient Canada-native a base, and a few more months on his calendar to create did their job as well. Arriving in California with a grip of demos he'd written in New York, he realized after a few months of setting up his new shop_complete with a few new toys_that the gap was giving him perspective (insert tooth joke here). Right off the bat, from the pops and clicks of the CR-78 drum machine and acoustic strums on the album-opening "My Old Man," the synth-drenched beauty of the second track, "This Old Dog," it's clear that DeMarco's bag is filled with new tricks indeed. This Old Dog is rooted more in a synth-base than any of his previous releases, but he is careful not to let that tactic overshadow the other instruments and overall "unplugged" mood of the work: "This is my acoustic album, but it's not really an acoustic album at all. That's just what it feels like, mostly," says DeMarco. Despite the changes considered during the creation of This Old Dog, Mac DeMarco's mid-twenties masterpiece, it's clear that the engine that motors him is in no danger of slowing down.
