Suche:long body

Sea Blue in Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl.

Because Hold, Jack Tatum's fifth album under the moniker Wild Nothing, was written in the aftermath of new parenthood during the pandemic, it was probably inevitable that it would be searching and existential music. But during the recording process, the artist known for synth-pop tastefulness used it as an opportunity to reach for a new sonic maximalism and wider set of influences. With contributions from longtime collaborator Jorge Elbrecht, Tommy Davidson of Beach Fossils and Hatchie's Harriette Pilbeam, first single "Headlights On" features an acid house-worthy bass groove and breakbeat that prove Tatum is playing for the rafters. Tatum produced the rest of the record on his own, partially out of necessity, due to the challenges of the pandemic. The songs were eventually brought to Adrian Olsen at Montrose Recording in Richmond to begin recording drums and filling in the gaps. While largely a product of isolation, Hold also reflects the things Tatum has learned from collaborators, both on previous records and during his acclaimed work with Japanese Breakfast and Molly Burch. The rest of the record was mixed by Geoff Swan, who listeners might know for his work with Caroline Polachek and Charli XCX. Swan put Tatum's vocals high in the mix, and throughout the album, he embraces playful vocal processing like never before. Tatum moved from Los Angeles back to his home state of Virginia about five years ago in search of a scaled-back lifestyle. The relatively suburban environment - and the occasional regret it inspired - proved to be great artistic fodder. It's the paradox of modern America - the suburbs are supposed to be stultifying to art, but they are so full of human desperation perfect for dramatizing. On "Suburban Solutions", he presents an anti-jingle with an acidly bright synthesizer melody, imploring you to sign on the dotted line, put your feet up, and embrace sweet oblivion. Adding to the song's menacing cheeriness is a chorus-sung bridge, made with assistance from Molly Burch and Tatum's wife, Dana, It was loosely inspired by the classic Martika song "Toy Soldiers" and the long-ago pop craze for children's choirs, and he embraces the trend's less-than-stellar reputation. By design, Hold dwells in uncertainty and fear, but in a package that encourages meditation and a bit of fun. "In the face of the pandemic, I think being a parent really forced my hand," Tatum said. "I felt that I had no other choice but to have a positive outlook on the world. Because if I were to give in at any moment and say, "Oh, everything is horrible," then I'll feel as if I've lost and I've given up on my son being able to thrive in this world."

Sea Blue in Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl LP + artist signed art print. Only 200 available.

Because Hold, Jack Tatum's fifth album under the moniker Wild Nothing, was written in the aftermath of new parenthood during the pandemic, it was probably inevitable that it would be searching and existential music. But during the recording process, the artist known for synth-pop tastefulness used it as an opportunity to reach for a new sonic maximalism and wider set of influences. With contributions from longtime collaborator Jorge Elbrecht, Tommy Davidson of Beach Fossils and Hatchie's Harriette Pilbeam, first single "Headlights On" features an acid house-worthy bass groove and breakbeat that prove Tatum is playing for the rafters. Tatum produced the rest of the record on his own, partially out of necessity, due to the challenges of the pandemic. The songs were eventually brought to Adrian Olsen at Montrose Recording in Richmond to begin recording drums and filling in the gaps. While largely a product of isolation, Hold also reflects the things Tatum has learned from collaborators, both on previous records and during his acclaimed work with Japanese Breakfast and Molly Burch. The rest of the record was mixed by Geoff Swan, who listeners might know for his work with Caroline Polachek and Charli XCX. Swan put Tatum's vocals high in the mix, and throughout the album, he embraces playful vocal processing like never before. Tatum moved from Los Angeles back to his home state of Virginia about five years ago in search of a scaled-back lifestyle. The relatively suburban environment - and the occasional regret it inspired - proved to be great artistic fodder. It's the paradox of modern America - the suburbs are supposed to be stultifying to art, but they are so full of human desperation perfect for dramatizing. On "Suburban Solutions", he presents an anti-jingle with an acidly bright synthesizer melody, imploring you to sign on the dotted line, put your feet up, and embrace sweet oblivion. Adding to the song's menacing cheeriness is a chorus-sung bridge, made with assistance from Molly Burch and Tatum's wife, Dana, It was loosely inspired by the classic Martika song "Toy Soldiers" and the long-ago pop craze for children's choirs, and he embraces the trend's less-than-stellar reputation. By design, Hold dwells in uncertainty and fear, but in a package that encourages meditation and a bit of fun. "In the face of the pandemic, I think being a parent really forced my hand," Tatum said. "I felt that I had no other choice but to have a positive outlook on the world. Because if I were to give in at any moment and say, "Oh, everything is horrible," then I'll feel as if I've lost and I've given up on my son being able to thrive in this world."

Dead Times is Lee Buford (The Body, Sightless Pit, Manslaughter 777) and Steven Vallot (Muslin). The duo originally began working together in 2008 while living together in Providence DIY space The Sickle, and releasing the early records from The Body and The Assembly of Light Choir on their short-lived Aum War label. They quickly achieved cult status with just two limited releases. Those releases have become highly coveted rarities for The Body fans and those familiar with the world of Providence, Rhode Island"s legendary DIY scene, which gave rise to artists like Lightning Bolt and Black Dice. Emerging over a decade later, Dead Times connects the threads of the untethered extremes of their origins to the mastery of production, composition, and structure each member has cultivated in their time apart. On their debut self-titled full-length, Dead Times present a kind of mesmeric dread, a world of desperate beauty wrapped in sonic venom. Buford and Vallot each bring wells of experience and new skill to Dead Times since their days living together in dilapidated warehouses. The duo"s shared history remains an essential element to their chemistry, but each has sharpened their craft to harness that raw creativity into music that is fearless, poignant and undeniably unique. A band"s band, but not for long. Dead Times, the duo"s first album, is staggering in its ambitions and exquisite in its execution. Lee Buford is known for his prolific work in acts including The Body, Sightless Pit, Everyone Asked About You, and more, alongside numerous collaborations with the likes of Full Of Hell, BIG|BRAVE, Thou, OAA, and Siege Engine. Steven Vallot is known for his collaborative work both musically, and artistically, with artists such as Krieg, The Body, Whitehorse, and Drew McDowall.

Cybotron has re-emerged in our contemporary cybercultural age when artifactual futures begin a transition into a new era of "Meta".

By combining their knowledge of philosophy, science fiction, and mechanical engineering, at a time when electronic instrument companies were only just beginning to distribute their products to the masses, two prosumer audio technicians named Juan Atkins and Rik Davis were able to re-engineer Cybotron – a combination of the words “Cyborg” and “Cyclotron” (an atomic particle accelerator) – to be used as a home studio performance music that would change the course of independently produced and distributed electronic music.

Dissolving the boundary between singer, songwriter, and producer, Juan Atkins named Cybotron’s future forward funkadelic sound “techno” in reference to Alvin Toffler’s concept of unlikely “techno rebels” against technocracy. Techno is music that sounds like technology, and its purpose was to help society survive our collision with a universally felt “future shock” by inserting an audio virus into the cultural matrix.

Techno’s blueprint spread across the Detroit-Berlin Axis between Metroplex and Tresor. As human society began its transition from a post-industrial to an information-based market economy, Cybotron enabled a thorough system override of the human senses towards a tangible man-machine hybridity and showed the world how to channel their emotions and imaginations into new sound technologies and create new ‘sonic’ spatialities where listeners can transport themselves out of the physical world into the future. The cover of their debut album Enter (1983) transmitted a fragmented view of a body in motion being digitized mid-stride, dissolving physical and virtual reality into sonic fiction.

Today, the man-machine hybridity of Cybotron is still the truest form of techno, coevolving in conversation with the technological music they created and inspired. The latest data disk marks a new chapter that reflects a techgnostic musical expression of the knowledge acquired during their decades-long hiatus. Unlike the dance music industrial replications of the Model 500 formula, acknowledging the content marketing expectations that segments music into specific, sellable genres, this techno music is self-aware. Cybotron processes dance music tropes spawned from its very own blueprint with a meta-tactical precision out of sync with our current rave new world.

Cybotron’s return demonstrates a studied engagement with what techno was and should be with a peerless update of Juan Atkins’ initial inventive idea of do-it-yourself electrically reengineered music xeroxed onto both sides of the 12” – uploaded directly into the alleys of your mind.
- The Rhythmanalyst

RIYL: The Fall, Royal Trux, The Dead C, Shirley Collins, ’70s British progressive rock, Dean Blunt.
Throughout their legendary, decade-long run, the Shadow Ring were an enigmatic force on the international musical sub-underground. Before their disbandment in 2002, this shambolic rock outfit, formed by a group of rowdy teenagers in southeast England, left behind a mighty run of eight LPs, a handful of 7"s, and a spate of raucous live shows and cryptic zine appearances on both sides of the Atlantic, all which have bolstered their enduring word-of-mouth mystique. Beginning this year with the first-ever vinyl pressing of the self-released pre-Shadow Ring tape The Cat & Bells Club (1992), Blank Forms Editions is conducting a systematic retrospective of the storied group, including a multi-year LP reissue effort and a forthcoming comprehensive CD box set and an over five hundred page book. Recorded in summer of 1994 at S.H.P studios (frontman Graham Lambkin’s parents’ home), the group’s sophomore record Put the Music In Its Coffin is a more sinister, saturnine affair than their debut City Lights. Coffin was many listeners’ introduction to the Shadow Ring, who had hitherto self-released their music, courting a steady stable of international fans through the magazine and mail-order catalog Forced Exposure. For their follow-up, the duo reached out to the ascending Philadelphia label Siltbreeze, whose eclectic roster of sneering, low-fidelity rock and noise connected disparate subterranean scenes from rust-belt America to the English Midlands, Dunedin, and beyond. As luck would have it, Siltbreeze proprietor Tom Lax was already a fan of the band’s first record and arranged to release both a 7” and their “difficult second album.” The connection proved to run deeper than vinyl within six months, Lax would pick up the pair from the airport for their spring 1995 US tour. This episode marked not only their first trip to the States but their first live performances at all, formally introducing the Shadow Ring to the American underground and solidifying the allure of the Folkestone pair. From the get-go, the record has a menacing, vile ambience. Its opening track “Horse-Meat Cakes,” inspired by an anecdote by pulp author Philip K. Dick about how he and his wife subsisted off low-grade pet food when he first arrived in San Francisco, sets the tone lyrically and sonically. Subsequent tracks are filled with Rabelaisian body horror and sinewy, haptic diction. “I try to pass out vital organs, convinced that they are waste,” intones Lambkin in “Heart, Liver & Lungs,” before a chorus of detuned guitars kicks in, nearly drowning out the speaker’s account of consuming chevaline intestines. Later songs similarly detail vernacular cooking (“Caribbean Porridge,” about a cornmeal hangover cure), bodily processes (“Nocturnal Middle Rumbles,” about nighttime defecation), and creaturely conflict (“Crystal Tears” and “Spin The Animal Dial”). The album’s makeshift percussion and teenaged rawness resembles the verve of City Lights, while its screeching strings and gnarly distorted vocals give it a sparse, miasmic atmosphere that look towards the uncompromising, otherworldly experimentation of the band’s Hold Onto I.D. (1996) and Lighthouse (1997), making this one of the Shadow Ring’s most distilled musical statements

In a realm where the threads of fate intertwined with the tapestry of existence, there existed a timeless construct we call “MENG”. This transcendental domain pushed a sanctuary where an unholy wisdom was safeguarded. Within its twenty-two walls, the experiences of countless sages and seekers resided, forming a reservoir of enlightenment, of vision and of identity.

Among the enigmatic texts that adorned the shelves of The Memory Palace, one stood out—the "Tubular Heaven," a chapter that held the essence of the universe's patterns and transformations. The book we speak of is the Book of Change - I Ching. Legend has it that the Memory Palace embodied the vibrations of those who sought its wisdom, guiding them to the Slow-Chain’s pages where hexagrams unveiled the secrets of existence.

Amidst this cosmic dance of knowledge, there lived a young wanderer whose name we do not say out loud. Driven by a deep yearning for understanding, this Warrior ventured into the city of Tanoy. With every step, he felt the resonance of centuries long gone, as if the walls whispered to him the essence of reality itself - “you may fall as long as you stand up again. Repeat this 1000 times and you will understand me. Only then can we control the sound.” As he reached for the illuminated Book of Change, a light was cast onto a newly fabricated realm of questions.

One hexagram, in particular, was essential. The cryptic symbolism was perplexing. Upon meditation, we slowly begin to realize that life is indeed a tapestry of imperfections, yet from these glitches we arise with profound growth and transformation.

As our curiosity spikes, we delve into the pages that follow, discovering an unexpected connection between I Ching and the world of Jeans, no denim. In ancient times, the craft of weaving denim mirrored the wisdom of these hexagrams. Just as threads interwove to create a durable fabric, I Ching reveals how life's experiences intertwine to form a meaningful existence. Denim, like life, is sturdy yet adaptable - a true testament to the harmonious balance between falling and standing.

As this journey comes to a gentle end, we must stress that hexagrams prove that other divination systems exist. It has become clear that the patterns hitherto observed are not confined to one culture, tradition, mind or body. Instead, they echo throughout history, manifesting in various divination systems across our globe. Hexagrams are a universal language, transcending boundaries and demonstrating the interconnectedness of humanity's pursuit of higher understanding.

We can now truly emerge from the Memory Palace, carrying the wisdom of everything above us. It’s time to Drag A Friend into this Made Up Reality. Or is it? We now understand that life's glitches are the catalysts for growth and that just as threads wove together to create denim, experiences wove together to create a meaningful existence.
As we walk beneath the open sky, we whisper into the wind, "Hexagrams are the echoes of universal truths, proving that the search for wisdom knows no bounds."

The chimes tingle in the deep subset of your imagination. As the pages of the Book of Change unfurl one last time, the shimmering tapestry of our shallow minds unravels.

We have revealed the kaleidoscopic corridors where perceptions dance in hallucinogenic symphony to the hymns of our rich minds.

TPG long term friend and homeboy Ben Oyefeso pulls out a trio of double-jointed cuts for the club and not, the German producer's debut EP ‘Lagerfeuer’ packs that left-of-centre house punch that’s come to define the label throughout the previous ten releases and certainly more than just that. Cutting his lane at the junction of oddball party music and deconstructionist boogie, Oyefeso’s maiden sortie floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee. A weird, buzzing slab of body-jacking electronics that doesn’t play by the book.

An off-road bouncer of a track, the opening number ‘Matt’ has us nodding our heads to a high-in-vitamin mix of jacking house programming and erratic acid patterns gone astray. Knee deep in 303-marinated puddles of psychedelic squelch, Oyefeso keeps swinging the pendulum between a proper syncopated 4x4 motif’d framework and frantic digressions into an abstract-leaning headspace.

A2 ‘Kool’ opts for a further sliced-and-diced rhythmic line of action, generously infused with twisted Rephlexian phrases and sustained waves of micro-house clicking. Topping off that strange journey, the title-track ‘Lagerfeuer’ merges polyrhythmic intricacies with a forward-moving, earwormy kind of linear groove, all laced with a spooky baseline that stretches out into a purgatory of frankly eerie dissonances. Enough with the words, just jump on board Ben Oyefeso’s ghost train for a seriously tortuous, nonconformist ride across dance music’s jagged ridges and most secret crevasses.

Das Jeffrey Lee Pierce Sessions Project, das sich aus Teilen des legendären Gun Clubs, Freund*innen des Sängers Jeffrey Lee Pierce (1958-1996) und Fans des Künstlers zusammensetzt, präsentiert mit "Axels & Sockets" den dritten Teil eines außergewöhnlichen Projekts. Mit Künstler*innen wie Nick Cave, Debbie Harry, Mark Lanegan, Lydia Lunch, Warren Ellis, Mick Harvey und Kid Congo Powers sind hier viele bekannte Namen der ersten zwei Teile "We Are Only Riders" und "The Journey Is Long" vereint. Zum ersten Mal dabei sind keine Geringeren als Mark Stewart, Thurston Moore, Primal Scream, Andrew Weatherall und Punkikone Iggy Pop! Koordiniert von Pierce"s musikalischem Wegbegleiter Cypress Grove, schaffen es die Musiker*innen auch beim dritten Teil, aus Songskizzen, Demoaufnahmen, Riffs, Textfetzen und Soundschnippseln, die Pierce vor seinem Tod aufgenommen und niedergeschrieben hatte, neue und atemberaubende Songs zu machen.

Nach dem erfolgreichen 2009er-Debüt "We Are Only Riders" legt das Jeffrey Lee Pierce Sessions Project ein zweites Album mit zuvor unveröffentlichten Vorlagen des Gun-Club-Sängers Jeffrey Lee Pierce (1958 - 1996) vor, wiederum eingespielt von befreundeten Artists und Weggefährt*innen. Ausgangspunkt für viele Songs war eine Musikkassette mit Songideen von Pierce, die Cypress Grove, ein Musiker aus der späten Gun-Club-Phase, zufällig beim Aufräumen fand. Wie im von Pierce so geliebten Jazz, spielte beim Sessions Project jeder bei jedem, interpretierte oder bearbeitete man gemeinsam textliche und melodische Fragmente. Auf "The Journey Is Long" trifft sich ein Who"s who des Indie-Adels: Nick Cave, Mick Harvey, Debbie Harry & Chris Stein, Lydia Lunch, Kid Congo Powers, Tav Falco"s Panther Burns, Mark Lanegan & Isobel Campbell, Steve Wynn, Warren Ellis, Barry Adamson, Thalia Zedek & Chris Brokaw, Hugo Race und viele andere.

Proper full-length outing from Naarm quartet and venerable live show Polito! Though prior associations with Butter Sessions have birthed EP's and compilation appearances, Collapse Phase gathers the most cohesive body of work from the group to date. Self-described as "a meeting of improvised contemporary dance and live improvised techno music, working together to create entrancing performance experiences", the project translates impressively to the long-player format. Holding no pretence with its title, opening cut 'Chuggalug' swirls around the stereo field building upon sustained synth warbles with low-key basslines and breaks propelling the track. As the album progresses from the chug into gridlocked, Mills-ian loops and fast, extra-terrestrial sound design (all swinging 909s + decay), we're also treated to contrasting downtempo acid cuts and dubwise, day-time festival vibes ('Fortune Teller'). 'Nine Lines' layers various patterns in a classy exercise of dancefloor tension building, with an undoubtedly in-the-moment feeling evidencing Polito's live show foundations. Across the board the group showcase their mastering of a kind of addition/subtraction push and pull, but the varying influences in sound design provide an extra layer of depth to the whole thing and cement the Polito brand. On both 'Inside The Sphere' and 'The Sphere Is Collapsing', the dreamier, more reflective edges of 90s IDM are given a nod and these two strike as up there with the best on the album. Head for 'Mercado Waltz' for a super interesting fusion of loopy techno and modular dubstep.

Polito is a collaboration between musicians Robert Downie and Finnian Langham, and dancers Arabella Frahn-Starkie and Hillary Goldsmith.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce its first release from celebrated London-based Canadian composer Cassandra Miller. Though her body of mature work stretches back almost twenty years, many listeners were introduced to Miller through the success of her astonishing 2015 Duet for Cello and Orchestra, which sets an imperturbable two-note cello part against a series of increasingly dense orchestrations of an Italian folk melody; in 2019, it was selected by The Guardian as one of the ‘best classical music works of the 21st century’. Traveller Song / Thanksong, the first release of her music on vinyl, presents a pair of compositions for voice and ensemble that exemplify Miller’s gently absurd, strikingly beautiful, and utterly unique work.

Like many of Miller’s compositions, these pieces originate in existing music. Traveller Song (2016/2018) begins from a 1950s song of an anonymous Sicilian cart driver recorded by Alan Lomax and Diego Carpitella, which Miller recorded herself singing along to, going on to then record herself singing to her own layered voices. Miller’s untutored voice is an unsteady, wavering wail that has, in her words, ‘more in common with a quasi-shamanistic keening than anything Sicilian’. Heard sometimes alone, sometimes layered, her pre-recorded voice is accompanied by a chamber sextet drawn from London’s Plus-Minus Ensemble. In the first section, Miller’s exposed warble is set to a spare piano accompaniment, somehow both faintly preposterous and magisterial. Following the voice note for note, the piano part often makes use of almost mechanical sequences of parallel chords, reminiscent both of Satie’s Rosicrucian period and the abrupt harmonic movements of a chord organ. The orchestration then opens up to guitar, clarinet, and sliding strings, a delicate environment for Miller’s voice, which, especially when it begins to be layered, generates a powerful sense of intimacy. In its concluding minutes, the folk roots of the original melody return in the form of a glorious full ensemble setting dominated by accordion, clarinet, and strummed guitar. Thanksong begins from recordings of Miller singing along to the third movement of Beethoven’s late quartet in A minor (Op. 132), the ‘holy song of thanks’ the composer wrote to express his gratitude for (temporarily) recovering from illness. Recording herself singing along repeatedly to each of the individual parts of the quartet, Miller created an aural score where each member of the string quartet listens to their own part on headphones, playing by ear. Performed on this recording by Montreal's Quatuor Bozzini, with whom Miller has a decades-long relationship, they are joined by the British soprano Juliet Fraser, who sings material from the Beethoven quartet ‘as slowly and quietly as possible’. The atmosphere of the opening of Beethoven’s Dankgesang, of hushed reawakening and thoughtful reflection, is sustained throughout the fourteen minutes of Miller’s piece, building at points almost to sentimentality before the five individual parts again fall back into a gentle burble of unsynchronised melodic gestures. Like Traveller Song, here the use of the voice is a long way from the mannered performance of much contemporary music, reaching for a human and bodily presence more connected to the reality of the everyday, albeit suffused with wonder. Presented in a stylish sleeve adorned with photography by Lasse Marhaug and liner notes by Cassandra Miller, this is a key release from a major contemporary composer whose work challenges and dazzles in equal measure. .

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

RIYL: PJ Harvey, Sonic Youth, Dead Can Dance, Black Sabbath, Depeche Mode. In Blood is the group’s 14th album and the follow-up to 2020’s critically acclaimed Dances/Curses (Album Of The Year – The Quietus, Top 10 International Albums – Irish Times). It was typical of a band so well-known for stellar live performances to release their most successful album at a time when they were unable to back it up on the road. As was the case for many, lockdown changed the band’s lives in unexpected ways. Some felt a form of cabin fever at not being able to continue to make music (diverting their energies elsewhere - founding Wrong Speed Records for starters) whereas others relished the peace and quiet, perhaps questioning whether they wanted to return to the life they had before. Gigs (so long the lifeblood of the band) were booked, postponed, and cancelled. Things began to unravel and perhaps for the first time since the band formed in 2003 it was hard to see how it could continue. A plan was hatched to attempt to re-energise and reassemble the band: they would begin work on a new album. They would approach this as though a Somerset version of The Desert Sessions – members old and new and guests would contribute as and when time and restrictions allowed. Lyrically, British folk and ghost mythology provided the starting position for the song themes ranging from mutated stories of grief and loss written in the 14th Century (Perle), spiritual reawakening by ancient apparitions (Avalon) to the growth of nature after devastation (Can’t Feel Around Us, Over Cedar Limb), a metaphor also for spirit and body renewal and rebirth after trauma. The results sound free of any genre shackles and it suits Hey Colossus. They have taken the expansive anything-goes approach that made Dances/Curses so successful and fine-tuned and shaped it into an 8-song single album that never treads water or fills time. The prominent vocals steer the listener through the music, defining it as opposed to punctuating it (or being buried by it). The album is a calling card for the band in their 20th anniversary year. As odd and challenging as long-term fans would expect or hope for, but somehow more accessible and to the point than ever before. It is the closest the group have ever come to a pop record, radiating positivity through the murk like a small ray of light in some very dark and very weird times. Music can never entirely negate these feelings but, like the natural world referenced in the lyrics and sleeve, it invisibly bonds people together, lifting us up if we choose to let it.

The Vaselines have long been celebrated by musicians and music enthusiasts across genres and across the globe, including super-fan Kurt Cobain. Emerging in the mid-eighties under the wing of The Pastels' Stephen McRobbie, The Vaselines came to define the sly wit and irresistible pop hooks of the era's Scottish indie scene. Sub Pop's remastered reintroduction of The Way of The Vaselines is an opportunity for those already familiar with the Scottish band's brief career to delve deeper into their body of work, while those new to their music can experience firsthand why so many hold them in such high regard. Originally mastered from a cassette tape (and since remastered on much better equipment in the new millennium), The Way of The Vaselines compiles the band's two EPs (Son of a Gun and Dying for It) and their sole LP release (Dum-Dum). This 2023 edition is the first ever vinyl release of The Way of The Vaselines, which originally came out on CD in 1992.

The Vaselines have long been celebrated by musicians and music enthusiasts across genres and across the globe, including super-fan Kurt Cobain. Emerging in the mid-eighties under the wing of The Pastels' Stephen McRobbie, The Vaselines came to define the sly wit and irresistible pop hooks of the era's Scottish indie scene. Sub Pop's remastered reintroduction of The Way of The Vaselines is an opportunity for those already familiar with the Scottish band's brief career to delve deeper into their body of work, while those new to their music can experience firsthand why so many hold them in such high regard. Originally mastered from a cassette tape (and since remastered on much better equipment in the new millennium), The Way of The Vaselines compiles the band's two EPs (Son of a Gun and Dying for It) and their sole LP release (Dum-Dum). This 2023 edition is the first ever vinyl release of The Way of The Vaselines, which originally came out on CD in 1992.

EACH COPY Personally SIGNED BY LEN FAKI

Len Faki has always been a defining character of the techno underground. His unique approach to DJing, the consistent work as a producer and the quality output of his label Figure has all shaped the current environment.
Starting out as a clubber in the 90's, his inspirations have always reached back to the first encounters with electronic music, when new worlds opened and everything seemed possible.

While these experiences have always influenced Faki's productions and used to be released under many different aliases back in the day, they have been waiting since to be made into a proper album under the Len Faki moniker.

After quickly climbing to the top of the international DJ circuit, busy touring schedules never quite allowed for it. Finally faced with the opportunity of a long overdue creative break, Faki decided tackle the life-time venture with the necessary dedication and focus.

Excited about the new project, he also took the time and energy needed to expand his production methods. Finding new techniques allowed him to truly bring all his different influences to the surface. The process was one of following his own heart, occasionally challenging and surprising himself. Naturally the result emerged as two parallel experiences, which are now presented across two discs. Both still carry all the signature features of Faki's style but with added layers of depth and detail. There's that special contrast of dark and heady grooves, paired with dreamy melodies that transport the listener to places beyond the mind. But we also see all strains of his previous work being incorporated, mixed and molded into something new altogether.

While the first disc focuses on the kind of techno, which Faki has been brought up by and given back to for so many years of his life, the second is more loose and experimental, with forays into house, ambient and broken beats - the sounds he has always kept very passionate about.

It creates two distinct experiences, showcasing the entire breadth of Faki's cosmos. Where some ideas stay straight and kick hard, like the neon bleep opener Tor 8 or joyfully booming Astra, others take the newfound freedom to inspire a wistful broken beat ballad such as Hymn (In the Name of Fantasy) or the soulfully subdued Drum & Bass closer Voices.
Many songs even exist as pairings, with their respective counterpart on the other disc. For example, the duo of Shri Yantra/Yantra, where similar soundscapes have been looked through different lenses, making for a more straight-laced or shuffled rhythm. Also noteworthy are Faki's appearance as a veritable house producer on Hymn (In the Name of Freedom) as well as the inclusion of two very personal pieces:
The Halide tracks were made in remembrance of Faki's late mother, who passed away during the final production stage of the EP. These delicate tracks capture the intense sadness Faki was feeling at the time and helped him to process his grief and eventually to finish off the album.

By doing so Faki has given us a complete artistic statement, one that proves him to be as curious and driven now as ever, taking his sound to all-new realms.

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.