Cerca:little ann

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.

More than a decade ago, dub legend Lee “Scratch” Perry (1936–2021) walked into a Quasi Dub Development recording session in New York. His signature freestyle lyrics — dadaist and quirky as only the Upsetter could deliver — became part of their Little Twister album, released in 2014. Looking back on Pingipung's 22-year history, “Let’s Communicate” is certainly one of the highlights on the label, but it remained under the radar as part of the LP. In 2025, this standout track will receive this special 7’’ re-release, paired with a version by UK dub wizard Elijah Minnelli.

The Quasi Dub Development is an Italian-German-American collective around Luca Fadda and F.S.Blumm. The musicians are mostly renowned for their ambient, neo-classical and experimental music, and they share a passion for dub. They explore the genre using their acoustic instruments, creating a unique, playful, and atmospheric approach to dub, with only sparse use of electronics.

To coincide with the 7’’ single, a revisited version of the Little Twister album from 2014 will also be released on all digital platforms. This new edition includes the instrumentals of the vocal tracks that originally featured contributions not only from Lee Perry but also Lady Ann

Patricia Kaas' 2012 album Kaas Chante Piaf is a heartfelt tribute to the legendary French singer Édith Piaf, celebrating the 50th anniversary of her passing. The album features Kaas’ interpretations of 16 iconic Piaf songs, including classics like "La Vie en Rose," "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien," and "Hymne à l'amour." Kaas infuses each track with her own unique style, while honoring the emotional depth and power of Piaf’s timeless music. Known for her smoky voice and dramatic delivery, Kaas breathes new life into these chansons, creating a nostalgic yet contemporary homage. Kaas Chante Piaf is more than just a cover album—it’s a celebration of Piaf’s enduring legacy and an opportunity for Kaas to showcase her deep connection to French musical heritage. For fans of French chanson, this album is a must-listen, capturing the spirit of both Piaf and Kaas. Kaas Chante Piaf is available as a limited edition of 1500 numbered copies on light green coloured vinyl.

13 was The Doors’ first compilation album, featuring tracks from the psychedelic rock legends’ first five albums.

The compilation starts with the epic Light My Fire, written by Doors guitarist Robby Krieger, and features other classics such as People Are Strange from Strange Days, Touch Me from The Soft Parade. It also contains the blues rock classic Roadhouse Blues from Morrison Hotel; which last year celebrated its 50th anniversary.

13 is now on vinyl for the first time in 37 years and includes newly remastered audio on 180gram black vinyl.

"Float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" said the famous boxer Mohammed Ali, in reference to his legendary strike. This punchline also works wonderfully in music, listening to Roseaux's third album. A French success story, created with all modesty and honesty by the Parisian trio: Emile Omar, Alex Finkin and Clément Petit.

The three musketeers of sound cultivate their know-how, now acclaimed by critics and an ever-growing audience since their first project in 2012. It took them time to take a step back and gain perspective in order to offer us a return that is both joyful and resounding.

Roseaux takes root on the banks of soul, folk, jazz, and songs from all eras, a cascade of inexhaustible sounds, where the three composers draw their inspiration and merge their experiences.

The leaves of Roseaux soar to the breath of wonderful voices, chosen with precision by the three friends, like that of the American singer Aloe Blacc, present since the beginning of the adventure, essential enchanter of the three episodes.

Conceived as a dreamlike escapade full of emotions, on the fringes of the massive, instantaneous and often disembodied production, Roseaux is a totally artisanal group, a sort of UFO in the French musical landscape, which operates on instinct and above all on desire.

Thus, Roseaux has become an expert in bringing together, for the duration of a record, the artists who specifically form the DNA of their host: captivating voices, a plot on the piano and cello, but also encounters and reunions, in a poetic and deliberately nebulous universe.

A welcoming nebula, where the listener is invited to listen and immerse themselves without hindrance, in a luxuriant, wild, exciting sound forest. This third album is the work of 3 music lovers, capable of switching roles: writing, arrangements, production, from which emerge this time, eleven tracks with chiseled melodies including three colorful and unusual instrumentals.

A journey between melancholy and euphoria, which led Roseaux to the ends of the planet, from the Caribbean to Europe via Africa to unearth other vibrations and unique performers: the captivating Grenadian-British singer Ala.ni, the little English afropop prince from Ghana, Ghetto Boy, and the disturbing Swedish Isabel Sörling, sign here a first flamboyant collaboration with the group.

While the talented Haitian-Canadian Mélissa Laveaux, the hypnotic Scandinavian singer Olle Nyman, the sparkling French-Canadian Anna Majidson and our remarkable national Ben, already present on the second part, still manage to create a surprise by revealing new aspects of their range.

Roseaux's voices are decidedly impenetrable and its magic is renewed today by making the strength of all these scintillating elements dialogue, to be discovered in a setting of softness and voluptuousness.

Nature is full of reeds, this one is unique.

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.

In 2017, Matthias launched his record label named Superluminal, after the astronomic motion observed in 1902 by Jacobus Kapteyn in the ejecta of the nova GK Persei, which had exploded in 1901. His discovery was published in the German journal Astronomische Nachrichten, and received little attention from English-speaking astronomers until many decades later. It appears to travel faster than light, its existence could conceal the most inexplicable mysteries of our universe which gave birth to many of the secrets hidden in the path of mysticism and esotericism.

The label celebrates its 8th Anniversary with Matthias’s first self-released album. The instalment pays homage to the roots and influences the artist has genuinely embraced throughout the years. An immersive composition which summons a line from the sounds of the past to the present, designed meticulously and displayed within gatefold cover.

It certainly manifests a polyhedral vein with some very cerebral, experimental songs among more dancefloor oriented music. The artist delves into a self exploratory leap of synth-driving notes, striking chords of late decaying dub pianos. Certainly a journey that pairs conceptual alignment with more clubby-essential, stripped-down recordings.

The song’s progression evokes atmospheres from the far out worlds, carved into a space-echoing psychedelic trip with sinister tribal-percussive rhythm. The song’s arrangements are simple-complex drum’s versatile patterns, forged and elegantly blended into cinematic soundscapes.

This is a one way ride to the forest of mysteries, from which, there is no return. The time of the day between dusk and night, when it gets dark.

Der Detroiter Produzent Dave Hamilton ist heute für seine Produktionen auf Platten von Künstlern wie Little Ann und OC Tolbert bekannt, aber ursprünglich war er Gitarrist, dazu ein frühes Mitglied der Motown-Hausband, und veröffentlichte während seiner gesamten Karriere weiterhin Platten. 'The Deacons' und 'Pisces Pace' kamen 1970 auf seinem Label TCB heraus und dies ist eine Reproduktion der äußerst seltenen Originalveröffentlichung.

Mirai is a 2018 Japanese animated adventure fantasy comedy film written and directed by Mamoru Hosoda and produced by Studio Chizu (known for Belle, Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast). The film stars the voices of Moka Kamishiraishi, Haru Kuroki and Gen Hoshino a.o. It was met with critical acclaim and became nominated for an Academy Award in 2019 for Best Animated Feature Film. Additionally, the movie received an Annie Award in the same year. Mirai follows the story of a four-year-old boy named Kun whose world is turned upside down when he meets his new baby sister. After venturing into a magical garden, Kun encounters strange guests from the past and future, including his sister Mirai, as a teenager. Together, Kun and teenage Mirai go on a journey through time and space, uncovering their family's incredible story. The soundtrack for the film was written by Masakatsu Takagi, who had previously scored Hosoda's Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast. His work for Studio Chizu has been praised for its magical and whimsical atmosphere. For Mirai specifically, this dreamy aesthetic was mixed with a contemporary sound and made to be simple in tone and be reflective of family. Mirai is available as a limited edition of 500 numbered copies on turquoise coloured vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet.

A repress of Swedish psych quartet Les Big Byrd (featuring members of Caesars, Fireside, Teddybears, etc) long sold out second album Iran Iraq IKEA - a part of the PNKSLM Recordings 10 year anniversary repress series. On the album, which this time is released on pink vinyl with alternate artwork, Les Big Byrd found a middle ground between their pop sensibilties and kraut-y space rock.

A lost paradise, a lost innocence, and a lost culture; these are the dominant themes presented in Nicolas Roeg's 1971 masterpiece Walkabout, a survival story of two children lost in the scorched Australian wilderness. Together with other seminal Australian surrealistic outback films, (e.g. Wake In Fright) Walkabout was a film that reshaped the Australian film industry and defined the country's New Wave. On the cusp of the film's 45t h anniversary it is pertinent to observe that for decades the film's original soundtrack has also been considered lost. Composed and conducted by the acclaimed British film composer John Barry, the score is a hallucinogenic mix of exotic romanticism, children's nursery rhyme and potent psychedelic experimentation. For decades, the consensus among soundtrack circles was that the master tapes were officially missing with little chance that the music would ever see a legitimate release, but The Roundtable is pleased to announce that this is no longer the case. The complete soundtrack to one of cinema history's most visually spellbinding films has now finally been re-discovered, sourced from the original stereo master tapes and prepared to the guidelines of the original ill-fated 1970s LP release.


The premiere soundtrack release to Nicolas Roeg's 1971 New Wave Masterpiece.
Lost hallucinogenic orchestral score from acclaimed film composer John Barry.
12-track LP re-mastered from the original stereo master tapes.
180g vinyl and deluxe packaging including archival film stills and original press material.
6 Panel digipack CD.

Standard weight white vinyl remastered from the original tapes, restoring the original album on vinyl for the first time since 1995, including its original artwork. Includes download code.

In 1991, four kids from the suburbs of Chicago, IL formed Cap’n Jazz, arguably one of the most influential rock bands of the last 30 years. Those kids, brothers Tim & Mike Kinsella, Victor Villarreal, and Sam Zurick, were joined by Davey von Bohlen in 1994 and recorded their only full-length album before calling it quits - Burritos, Inspiration Point, Fork Balloon Sports, Cards in the Spokes, Automatic Biographies, Kites, Kung Fu, Trophies, Banana Peels We’ve Slipped on, and Egg Shells We’ve Tippy Toed Over - often referred to as Shmap’n Shmazz. Originally released on the Man With Gun label, the album quickly fell out of print after the band’s breakup, with the songs eventually making their way to the Analphabetapolothology compilation, released in 1998 via Jade Tree Records.

As a testament to this legendary debut, Polyvinyl is thrilled to announce the vinyl reissue of Shmap’n Shmazz, which has been remastered from the original tapes - restoring the original album on vinyl for the first time since 1995, including its original artwork. With the unmatched intensity heard in the opening track, “Little League,” coupled with eccentrically poetic lyrics, this iconic album has influenced countless artists since its release and unintentionally sparked a new genre. Pitchfork calls the album “a touchstone of Midwestern emo,” while Vulture placed “Little League” at #3 on their 100 Greatest Emo Songs of All Time list. Musician Devendra Banhart has also expressed his love for the band in a 2017 Joan of Arc documentary, describing Tim’s powerfully striking vocals like "going to the zoo on quaaludes, but all the other animals are on speed."

In addition to the band’s influential legacy, Cap’n Jazz was the catalyst to the formation of other notable bands featuring the original members, including American Football, Joan of Arc, The Promise Ring, Owls, Owen, Make Believe, Ghosts and Vodka and many more.

After 10 years, WOLF HALL returned our screens in 2024 bringing Hilary Mantel's epic saga to its grim conclusion in WOLF HALL: THE MIRROR AND THE LIGHT. Directed by Peter Kosminsky, the six episodes tell the continuing story of Thomas Cromwell (Mark Rylance) and his complex relationship with Henry VIII (Damian Lewis) after the execution of Anne Boleyn,.

The new soundtrack reunites original Wolf Hall composer Debbie Wiseman with The Locrian Ensemble. Debbie Wiseman comments on her return to that world - "The distinctive sound of Wolf Hall is all about immediacy and being in the present with these characters. Drawing on elements from the original Wolf Hall score, new themes have been created for our soprano, Grace Davidson, our viola player, Philip Dukes, and our mandolin player and guitarist John Parricelli. It's been the most thrilling experience composing the score for this production."

Other Voices is a studio album by English singer Paul Young. The gold certified album was originally released in 1990 and peaked at #4 on the UK Albums Chart. Other Voices combines cover versions with original songs and includes the singles “Calling You”, “Softly Whispering I Love You” and “Heaven Can Wait”. On this album, Paul Young collaborates with many well-known musicians such as Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan, Nile Rodgers, Steve Winwood, Dave Gilmour and Anne Dudley. In 2012, a deluxe expanded edition of the album was released on CD. This vinyl release of Other Voices presents this
expanded edition for the very first time available on vinyl, including 10 bonus tracks containing 12” mixes, B-sides and live performances.
This release does not include the track “Trying To Guess The Rest”, but instead includes a live performance track of the song
“That’s What Christmas Means To Me”.

Other Voices (Expanded Edition) is available on vinyl for the first time as a 35th anniversary edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on silver coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

Limited edition 180g audiophile pressing
This outstanding LP contains all of Ray Charles' top-10 Billboard hits between
1953 and 1959 for Atlantic Records, a seminal period in the legendary career of
one of the most influential musicians of the 20th Century.

„My Everything“ war das zweite Studioalbum der amerikanischen Sängerin Ariana Grande, welches am 25.
August 2014 von Republic Records veröffentlicht wurde. ”My Everything” sollte eine Weiterentwicklung
ihres Debütalbums ”Yours Truly” (2013) sein und setzte die musikalische Reise Grandes mit reiferen Themen und Genres fort. ”My Everything” brachte zahlreiche Hits hervor, wie etwa ”One Last Time”, ”Bang
Bang” zusammen mit Nicki Minaj und Jessie J oder auch ”Problem” mit der australischen Rapperin Iggy
Azalea. Das Album, welches unter anderem von David Guetta und Zedd produziert wurde, bescherte der
US-Amerikanischen Sängerin einen Riesenerfolg und katapultierte sie in die Charts. Zusätzlich wurde die
damals 21-jährige Sängerin dann im November 2014 mit einem Bambi als ”beste Newcomerin” ausgezeichnet. Nach seiner Veröffentlichung erreichte das Album mit 169.000 verkauften Exemplaren in der ersten
Woche die Spitze der Billboard Hot 100 und ganze 10 Jahre später gehören die Tracks des Albums immer
noch zu ihren meist-gestreamten Songs.
Anlässlich des 10-jährigen Jubiläums von „My Everything“ erscheint das Album in einer Neuauflage auf
baby-pinken Vinyl.

This is a special edition of the 40th Anniversary of Cuerpo y Alma by Eduardo Mateo, in 180 gr vinyl with obi, new cover artwork and insert. Cuerpo y Alma was his second record as a soloist, originally released by Sondor in 1984. Recorded between 1981 and 1984 with Hugo Fattoruso, Osvaldo Fattoruso, Pippo Spera, Urbano Moraes, Travesia and more. In this record Mateo also experienced with percussion trying to get closer to a Hind Percussion. Eduardo Mateo is one of the most important influences in the history of the Uruguayan Music. Mixing Beat, Jazz, Bossa Nova and candombe. He was the one who created the "Candombe-Beat" mostly known as "Fusin". He also was a member and inspired the legendary band El Kinto.

Zum ersten Mal alle großartigen Songs von Vladimir Cosma auf einer Doppel-Vinyl.

Darunter die berühmten 80er Jahre Titel "Dreams" und "Your Eyes". Vladimir Cosma (* 13. April 1940 in Bukarest) ist ein rumänisch-französischer Filmkomponist, Violinist und Dirigent. Vladimir Cosma wurde in eine Musikerfamilie geboren, sein Vater ist der Dirigent Teodor Cosma. Nachdem Vladimir Cosma am Bukarester Conservatorium den ersten Preis in den Fächern Violine und Komposition gewonnen hatte, setzte er sein Studium ab 1963 am Conservatoire national supérieur de musique in Paris fort, wo er mit Nadia Boulanger zusammenarbeitete. 1966 lernte er den Filmkomponisten Michel Legrand kennen, der sein Interesse für die Filmmusik weckte und für den er zunächst als Arrangeur arbeitete. 1967 begann seine langjährige Zusammenarbeit mit dem Regisseur Yves Robert, die bis zu dessen Tod im Jahr 2002 andauerte. Im Laufe seiner Karriere hat er eine Reihe von Regisseuren mehrmals die Filmmusik geschrieben, für Yves Robert (13 Filme), Pierre Richard (fünf Filme), Pascal Thomas (elf Filme), Claude Zidi (zehn Filme), Gérard Oury (fünf Filme), Édouard Molinaro (sechs Filme), Claude Pinoteau (sieben Filme) oder Francis Veber (sieben Filme). Er vertonte außerdem drei Filme von Louis de Funès und zwei von Jean-Paul Belmondo.