Buscar:lon

Flautist Johanna Orellana teams up with Carmen Villain for a collection of horizontal, pastoral field recordings and close mic-ed flute sounds that zero in on the instrument’s unstable resonance and levitational magic. There’s no cringe virtuoso business or fourth world firewalking here - just sonic purity, sublime minimalism and the precise capture of time, place and poetry.

You might have come across Johanna Orellana before if you’ve listened to Carmen Villain’s music (or seen her perform live), and Villain appears here in a producer’s role, using her engineering expertise to impart a level of restraint and sonic fidelity that’s quite startling. There are only really two central elements to the album: environmental recordings and flute. There’s no psychedelic delay, no cavernous reverb; no audible treatments at all - Orellana and Villain instead force us to consider the flute and its musical lineage.

‘El Jardín I’ introduces the instrument as a physical conduit; Orellana allows her breath to distort the sound - the padded pat pat of the keys forms a kind of rhythm, closely recorded so it’s amplified and jarring, linking to primal wind instruments like conch shells, bamboo flutes and wooden whistles. Recalling the way in which Debit interfaced with the ancient world using AI- assisted tech on last year’s ‘The Long Count’, Orellana uses a comparatively modern contemporary transverse flute, an instrument with roots that stretch back through the baroque era, into Medieval Europe, back to the Byzantine era and into Asia. The component that connects the instruments and eras is breath, and its amplification and modification through differently shaped pipes and vessels.

Orellana lets the environment sing: insects, rushing water and zephyr-like winds form a stage that presents her mortal energy, suggesting a harmony between our use of breath and its environmental ubiquitousness. Her technique is steeped in folk history and decouples itself from expectation by rooting itself in nature. It allows her to bridge the gap between equal temperament and less ordered (less commercially-focused) microtonality without overstating the concept. Other sounds waft in from the sidelines; what might be an Indian bansuri, stray notes, a gust of air.

There’s a link to the foundational new age recordings that Joanna Brouk made with Maggi Payne back in 1980, but Orelanna also absorbs the outdoor folk magic of Fonal or Stroom, and the improvisational grist of Bendik Giske or legendary US horn duo Nmperign.

JIMMY EDGAR's latest release for Innovative Leisure, LIQUIDS HEAVEN, is a psychedelic canvas of future R&B, euphoric bass, mutant tear-theclub-up rap, foundation-splintering noise, and gossamer soul.
On a surface level, it is a starburst of avant-garde fusion, collecting a diverse cast of eccentric geniuses and re- configured into an anthology of n - musique concrete.

As with all of his work, there is a deeper and subversive intent.
Do not mistakenly believe that LIQUIDS HEAVEN is merely a technicolor dream of ethereal abstractions. It bangs as hard as anything to ever bump from a subwoofer.

Over a polychromatic blast of crunk, bounce on Everybody like a rap
rave inside a 31st century space station. Bite That 2 finds Trinidad James spitting flames over booty- shaking, wall- crumbling bass. On Ya, 645AR chirps over a metallic chassis of booming industrial funk.For all the high energy propulsion, there is a counter-balance of melancholic beauty.

The album's opener, Euphoria features a Liz Y2K vocal that levitates with plaintive longing. The Milk- aided Dreams 1000000 sounds like the chimerical soundtrack to a manga utopia that needs to be imagined. Milk also appears on the finale, Never Leave, which
captures a bittersweet sadness, the wistful emotion of the tide slipping away.


Jimmy's career has been a series of fascinating left- turns. Signed to Warp Records as a teenage electronic music prodigy, his work needs a scholarly bibliography to properly assess. He's recorded for the world's most respected imprints (Warp, K7, Hotflush, Innovative Leisure and his own New Reality Now).

Raised in Detroit, there have been stints soaking up inspiration in Berlin, Atlanta, LA, and New York. His list of close collaborators includes the most innovative musicians of the millennium, including Hudson Mohawke, Danny Brown, SOPHIE, DAWN, Mykki Blanco, Vince Staples, and several full projects with Machinedrum
as J-E-T-S.

Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the

Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”

Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of

imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”

Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”

“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.

It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

A royal refugee turned Soul survivor. On his debut album Free Me, Burundian-born JP Bimeni astonishes with a voice that recalls Otis Redding in his prime whilst resonating with the soul of Africa. A refugee who's been living in London since the early 2000s, Bimeni sings songs of love and loss, hope and fear, with a conviction that comes from the extraordinary experiences life has thrown at him.

A descendant of the Burundian royal family, Bimeni fled Burundi aged 15 during the 1993 civil war. Following three attempts on his life - at school he watched as his schoolmates were murdered, he was then chased by motorcycle militia-men and finally poisoned by doctors in hospital - he was given refugee status and fled to the UK where he's remained ever since. Music has provided the solace that Bimeni has needed to move forward with his life: 'If I didn't have music I don´t know how I would have survived everything', he says. With it's classic 60s-sounding Motown and Stax-inspired grooves the album was written by musical director Eduardo Martiìnez and songwriter Marc Ibarz and Bimeni imbues these tales of love and loss with his tragic experiences making 'Free Me' a deep soul soundtrack to his pained life: 'When I sing I feel like I'm cleansing myself: music is a way for me to forget'.

Staran Wake is a collaborative project by Andrew Bunsell and Tom Relleen. After several years creating music in various groups together, followed by countless hazy late night recording sessions at each other’s studios and crisper afternoons producing the results, the British duo’s musical vision materialised with this self-titled instrumental album, taking nearly 4 years to complete.

This collection of pieces is composed with a wide range of instruments and combines multiple dark, experimental genres to form a rather lavish and unique proposition. It is imprinted with intense turgid textures, interweaving the hyper-tactile characteristics of analogue sound with field recording elements and sound effects.

Although the project’s name suggests a rather celestial concept (‘an’ means moon in one of the early protolanguages), the music actually explores the intimate feelings of transient space and otherness. It uses subtle build-ups of tension and repetitive progressions to shape an impression of distended time and space. More than a mere treat for the ears, it’s a multi-layered album that invites reflection.

All tracks composed, performed and recorded by Andrew Bunsell and Tom Relleen at Dalston Studios, Space Studios and The Bunker, London, UK

Arranged, produced and mixed by Andrew Bunsell and Tom Relleen at The Bunker, London, UK

Mixed and mastered by Marta Salogni at Studio Zona, London, UK

Artwork and design by Jonas Meier

Seit gut 30 Jahren zählt Adriana Calcanhotto nun schon zu den größten und einflussreichsten Stimmen jener weiblichen Singer/Songwriter-Generation aus Brasilien, deren Vertreterinnen gleichermaßen als Komponistinnen, Instrumentalistinnen und Dichterinnen erfolgreich sind.

Vor drei Jahren hatten die pandemiebedingten Lockdown-Maßnahmen im Land sie dazu gezwungen, das 2020 veröffentlichte Album "Só" ("einsam/allein") unter ungewöhnlichen Bedingungen aufzunehmen: als virtuelle Zusammenarbeit mit anderen Musiker:innen, die (genau
wie sie selbst) in den eigenen vier Wänden festsaßen.

Kein Wunder, dass das Resultat vor allem jene Einsamkeit zum Ausdruck brachte, unter der in jenen Tagen die meisten Menschen leiden mussten.

Nun jedoch meldet sich die zweifache Latin-Grammy-Gewinnerin
(2006 & 2010) mit einem ganz anders klingenden und sehr viel extrovertierteren Longplayer zurück: "Errante" - was im Deutschen so viel wie "umherziehend" bedeutet.
Tatsächlich bewegt sich Adriana Calcanhotto auf ihrem 13. Studioalbum sehr frei und legt große Distanzen zwischen ganz unterschiedlichen Stilen und Genres zurück (alles von Bossa Nova, Samba-Canção, Xote, Maxixe und Samba-de-Roda bis hin zu Rock/Pop und Funk Carioca (Favela Funk)), wobei auch die Themenpalette ähnlich groß angelegt ist, wenn es etwa um die Liebe und deren Ende geht, ums Flirten, um Verluste, um Trauer und Selbstreflexion.

This is another piece to my musical puzzle. After "The Forced..." album, I still felt there was further I could go in... So again, with David's support, we ended up here...what a place! Never stops amazing, what happens while making music from the soul. This album is dedicated to my amazing Mum Sylvia (all I am)! Pearls Don't Lay On The Shore will be released physically as 2 x 12" vinyl LP - each single copy coming in a unique coloured pressing - on March 27th 2023, followed by the digital release on March 31st 2023.

The floor stompin’ Down By The River 'O' was written by longtime Levellers collaborator, Rev Hammer and tells the story of the Great Flood of 1968 in his hometown of Buntingford. B side is a reworking of Battle Of The Beanfield. Both are produced by Sean Lakeman and mixed by Al Scott, Down By The River ‘O’ and taken from the forthcoming album 'Together All The Way'.

In the early 1990s, a handful of black metal artists were enticed by the possibility of conjuring new fantastical worlds from the deep isolation of their home setups. Rather than the dense metal sound of their existing projects, this new direction would be centred around intimate synth soundscapes: forlorn organs and otherworldly MIDI theatrics.

The music on ASCEND is predominantly from self-produced, self-distributed releases, typically manufactured in small numbers. Though some artists producing this style of music, most notably Mortiis and Burzum, gained wider recognition outside underground circles, it is only in recent years that the sound and its influence has really been appreciated. This is particularly the case with the late Matthew Davis and his recently reappraised Secret Stairways project, whose song ‘Lammas Tide’ (from the 1997 Enchantment of the Ring album) appears on ASCEND. A simple home recording on a Yamaha KX-W392 manages to be both elegant and tortured, ambiguously devotional and recalling latter years Popol Vuh.

This battle between dark and light is a constant thread through ASCEND, with simple minimal synth lines that can be both delicate and menacing. Compilation opener ‘The Dark Dreamquest’ from Italian black metal group Evol is loaded with occult warning, and Finnish act Kadotus 609’s ‘The Summoning Through Crimson’ is languid, twisted and dark. In spite of the darkness, several pieces of the music on ASCEND have formal similarities with the sometimes saccharine new age music that rose to prominence in that era: but to a rougher, darker ends. The closing song from Darkthrone icon (and past NTS radio host) Fenriz, under his Neptune Towers pseudonym, pulls us further out, with ‘To Cold Void Desolation’ — an astral synth project, akin to ’70s kosmische muzik masters Harmonia.

The gentler side can often amplify an uncannily sinister edge, heard in German act Dolch’s ‘Tumulus’, where orc marching horns contrast against delicate rompler harps and softly whispered chanting. It hammers home a deep loneliness and detachment constant throughout ASCEND, made possible by these unusual contrasts, both unsettling and otherworldly.

After a rather long hiatus due to well known circumstances, Stützpunkt returns with its third release. Berlin based French producer and DJ Casual Treatment makes his debut on the imprint with the „Devotion EP”. Uncompromising while staying true to the genre’s roots, the record embodies the soul of the German capital’s sound.
„Tourmente” recognizes the itch under your skin, feeling it out and giving in to the demand.
Taking a „Trip to Alderaan” feels like going on a journey to a blooming past that hypnotizes its passengers in an unforeseeable future and into a magical past.
„Abrasion” breathes life into the tired soul, never losing its prey, putting you in consequential trance and ecstasy.
The fourth track „Devotion” not only gives the record its title but also caps a voyage down memory lane into the most perceptible realms.