Buscar:look inside the past

Every morning when Dent May wakes up, the first thing he says is, “What’s for breakfast?” For the Los Angeles-based songwriter and pop auteur, this question is part inside joke with his girlfriend, part sitcom-style catchphrase, and part mantra about getting up every day and persevering in the face of good or bad is happening around you in your life. It’s also the title of his sixth album, which is out on March 29, 2024 via Carpark Records. What’s For Breakfast? is May’s most immediate, nostalgic, and rollicking LP yet, one that’s concerned with breaking daily routines and rediscovering the joys of songwriting.

Over the past 17 years, May has been a consistently adventurous and prolific bedroom pop pioneer and connoisseur of impeccably crafted melodies. Though his songs are always well-written and comfortable, with What’s For Breakfast?, May has freed himself up to more playfully experiment with new and vintage musical inspirations. “I’ve occupied a lot of different lanes over the years,” says May. “I’ve always been drawn to making kaleidoscopic pop inspired by old soul, disco, country, whatever. This time around, I was tapping into music from my childhood, like The Strokes, Weezer and Elephant 6 Collective bands.” By revisiting the music of his youth—energetic and infectious guitar rock—he found a vibrant palate to explore for this new LP.

Lead single “One Call, That’s All” kickstarts with frenetic guitar-driven intensity. While the track slyly takes its name from the slogan of an ambulance-chasing Mississippi lawyer, May sings of unrequited love and phone-based ennui. “It’s a fast tempo pop-rock song that isn’t like anything I’ve done before,” says May. Elsewhere, opener “You Already Know” showcases May’s goofball lyrical charm with lines about playing chess online and looking like a Dawson’s Creek character. Beyond the jokes in the song, there is a bittersweet recognition of time passing and a call to action when May sings, “Now you already know what time it is / It’s time to live your life / Cuz it’s flying by / No matter the day, week, month or year / It’s time to do a lot / Ready or not.”

What’s For Breakfast? marks another first for Dent in being his most collaborative LP yet. Alongside guest appearances from Jimmy Whispers and co-writes with Paul Cherry, are two standout singles with Jordana and Pearl & The Oysters respectively. Jordana assists on the wistful “Coasting on Fumes,” which captures the feeling of being stuck in a rut while the yearning “Time Flies When You’re Having Fun” guests Pearl and the Oysters. “My first album came out almost 15 years ago, so bringing in others to help out is crucial to keep things interesting,” says May. “I’m constantly falling back in love with music through the eyes of others. This album is about remembering why I like music.”

M. Ward returns with a stunning new album, More Rain, for release on Merge Records on March 4, 2016. Ward has released a string of acclaimed solo albums over the past several years, along with five LPs with Zooey Deschanel as She & Him and a 2009 collaborative album with My Morning Jacket's Jim James and Bright Eyes' Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis under the moniker Monsters of Folk. In addition to his celebrated work as a musician, Ward is an accomplished producer, handling those duties for such luminaries as Mavis Staples, Jenny Lewis, and Carlos Forster as well as his own musical projects.This album, Ward's eighth solo affair, finds the artist picking up the tempo and volume a bit from his previous release, 2012's A Wasteland Companion. Where that record introspectively looked in from the outside, More Rain finds Ward on the inside, gazing out. Begun four years ago and imagined initially as a DIY doo-wop album that would feature Ward experimenting with layering his own voice, it soon branched out in different directions, a move that he credits largely to his collaborators here who include R.E.M.'s Peter Buck, Neko Case, k.d. lang, The Secret Sisters, and Joey Spampinato of NRBQ. The result is a collection of upbeat, sonically ambitious yet canonically familiar songs that both propel Ward's reach and satisfy longtime fans.



a [MORE RAIN]

[a] [MORE RAIN]

In 2014, Wye Oak released Shriek, their fourth album. It was a necessary departure for Jenn Wasner and Andy Stack, who found themselves on uncertain ground after two years of constant touring for 2011's Civilian, living on opposite ends of the country and trying to revitalize their creative partnership. Wasner set aside her guitar for a bass. Stack took on the band's upper register, playing syncopated, meditative keyboard parts that interacted with Wasner's voice, which was newly freed from its call-and-response relationship to the guitar_what had been, until then, a signature of Wye Oak's sound. "This idea and the ensuing creative reworking of our band did what it was meant to do," Wasner writes in 2024. "It ended a long, painful period of creative stagnancy and reconnected me with the joy of making music." During that period, Wasner and Stack were introduced to William Brittelle, the Brooklyn-based composer whose 2019 LP Spiritual America featured Wye Oak, the Metropolis Ensemble, and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus. His orchestral reimaginings of five songs from Shriek (Shriek: Variations, if you will) are the centerpiece of this package, which serves not only to mark the tenth anniversary of a great album, but to demonstrate the richness of Wye Oak's compositions. Stack says of Shriek: Variations: "It's like looking at the songs in a funhouse mirror. The songs on Shriek can be stripped down or embellished_this is maximal embellishment. William took the album and blew it to smithereens, looking at it in a weird, prismatic way." Through Brittelle, Wasner and Stack found themselves at the intersection of classical, experimental, and pop music. Further collaborations, like the Brooklyn Youth Chorus- featuring No Horizon and Paul and Michi Wiancko's string arrangements on "My Signal" from The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs, followed, as this connection fundamentally changed the way Wye Oak approached making records, incorporating an entirely new palette of sound into their work. That shift began here. Shriek: Variations may feel like a startling take on the material, something like light bursting into a room through drawn curtains, but Brittelle's arrangements are largely original to his first collaborations with Wye Oak a decade ago, suggesting that his maximalist arrangements have lived comfortably within the framework of Shriek the whole time, waiting for the right moment to emerge. It's a fitting reintroduction to the album, which upon its initial release was pigeonholed into the easy one-note talking point of being the "no-guitar" record. But even so, as that happened, Shriek quietly started to become a staple among Wye Oak's core fans. Here, with help from Brittelle's expansive compositions, the release draws attention back to the songwriting_how, regardless of the instrumentation, Wasner and Stack's uncanny musicwriting partnership at the core is what makes both Shriek and Wye Oak excellent. Joined by the Metropolis Ensemble, Paul Wiancko, and Lizzie Burns, Wye Oak turn songs like "Logic of Color" inside out, reaching towards a kind of pastoral bombast, Brittelle's aesthetic with Wasner and Stack as an anchor. In fact, "Logic of Color" in this iteration takes that "no-guitar" script and flips it, with Wasner playing the synthesizer ostinato on acoustic guitar at its center. If Shriek is a record that charts the depths of solemnity and inner space, its Variations, roiling in a sea of winds, brass, and strings, recolors that space and complicates it, a gorgeous, unexpected response to the original's siren call.

Vladislav Delay's complete "Hide Behind The Silence" series. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Hide Behind the Silence”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

Exploration of inaction. Of many kinds. In arts and in personal life, or at bigger and more serious levels. Questioning myself as a human being as well as an artist. Acknowledging the growing activism all around, and the very clear need for it, and how it reflects my own inaction.
Musically speaking, after Rakka, Isoviha and Speed Demon, I finally found some relief, but more importantly lost the need to go musically ever more outward and intensive. I felt quite strongly certain periods/moods from the past and they made me revisit some musical ideas or states of mind I was exploring early on.
It’s about live moments being captured, not much premeditation or editing. More intuitive and raw, even though the end result (to me) feels and sounds quite introspective and calm. It’s not very ambitious. Momentary and reflective.

2) Your music doesn’t sound very silent. Does it come from somewhere behind the silence?

Oh, this time to me it sounds quite quiet and playing with space if not silence. I don’t know what’s actually behind silence, but I think silence is the source of everything. We just don’t understand it yet.

3) What kind of thoughts or experiences gave inspiration to this series?

Writing this in Nov ’22, it’s not a stretch to say the world has been really unwell. Sometimes, like Mika Vainio put it, the world eats you up. I feel a bit like that. And I try to hide in my studio and stay away from it all, but it’s getting harder by the day. I’ve been questioning myself and thinking if what us artists are doing is worth anything, and whether it’s just a selfish thing I’ve been doing for the past 25 years, running away from everything. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.

4) Is it easy for you to be in silence, or around silence?

Absolutely. I not only hide behind silence but I also love silence. It’s only since I started going back to nature as a grown-up person that I sensed and was enveloped by silence, true silence. I have begun to appreciate it a lot. I think all the people should spend more time in silence.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork by Marc Hohmann, photography by Shinnosuke Yoshimori.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Vladislav Delay presents the fourth EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.

Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Hide Behind the Silence”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

Exploration of inaction. Of many kinds. In arts and in personal life, or at bigger and more serious levels. Questioning myself as a human being as well as an artist. Acknowledging the growing activism all around, and the very clear need for it, and how it reflects my own inaction.
Musically speaking, after Rakka, Isoviha and Speed Demon, I finally found some relief, but more importantly lost the need to go musically ever more outward and intensive. I felt quite strongly certain periods/moods from the past and they made me revisit some musical ideas or states of mind I was exploring early on.
It’s about live moments being captured, not much premeditation or editing. More intuitive and raw, even though the end result (to me) feels and sounds quite introspective and calm. It’s not very ambitious. Momentary and reflective.

2) Your music doesn’t sound very silent. Does it come from somewhere behind the silence?

Oh, this time to me it sounds quite quiet and playing with space if not silence. I don’t know what’s actually behind silence, but I think silence is the source of everything. We just don’t understand it yet.

3) What kind of thoughts or experiences gave inspiration to this series?

Writing this in Nov ’22, it’s not a stretch to say the world has been really unwell. Sometimes, like Mika Vainio put it, the world eats you up. I feel a bit like that. And I try to hide in my studio and stay away from it all, but it’s getting harder by the day. I’ve been questioning myself and thinking if what us artists are doing is worth anything, and whether it’s just a selfish thing I’ve been doing for the past 25 years, running away from everything. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.

4) Is it easy for you to be in silence, or around silence?

Absolutely. I not only hide behind silence but I also love silence. It’s only since I started going back to nature as a grown-up person that I sensed and was enveloped by silence, true silence. I have begun to appreciate it a lot. I think all the people should spend more time in silence.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork by Marc Hohmann, photography by Shinnosuke Yoshimori.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

It’s been nearly eight years since the last Mondo Drag album came out. In that time, the Bay Area psych-prog band toured the US and Europe, performed at major festivals and—once again—reformed their rhythm section. But in the context of the band’s nearly two-decade existence, this period may have been the most fraught. Vocalist and keyboardist John Gamiño lost friends and family members. Meanwhile, humanity suffered the throes of a global pandemic. “It was a dark chapter,” he recalls. “I was going through a lot of stuff personally—there’s been a lot of death, loss of family members, and grief. Plus, the band was inactive. It felt like time was slipping away from me. I felt like I was wasting my opportunities. I felt like I wasn’t participating in my story as much as I could have.” This feeling of time slipping away is the prevailing theme on Mondo Drag’s new album, Through the Hourglass. “For me, Through the Hourglass really encompasses the quarantine/pandemic years,” Gamiño says. “But in a way that includes a couple of years before that for us, because the band was stagnant during that time. Living with that was really impactful on our daily lives. So, the album is reflective. It’s looking at time—past, present, future.” Luckily, Mondo Drag emerged from this dour period reborn. Freshly energized by bassist Conor Riley (formerly of San Diego psych squad Astra, currently of Birth), who joined in 2018, and drummer Jimmy Perez, who joined in 2022, Gamiño and guitarists Jake Sheley and Nolan Girard have triumphed over the seemingly inexorable pull of time’s passage. “Astra was the one contemporary band that we felt was on the same tip as us,” Gamiño says. “We saw the similarities and felt the same vibe. Conor moved to San Francisco in 2018 and heard we were looking for a bassist, so we got in touch. For us, it was like, ‘The synth player from Astra wants to play bass for us?’ We couldn’t think of anybody more perfect.” Perez, meanwhile, brings deep psych-prog knowledge and impeccable skill. “He’s an amazing drummer, and he allowed us to do what we’ve been trying to do,” Gamiño says. “Before he came along, it was like, ‘Where are the drummers who like psych and prog and can play dynamically?’ We ended up trying out metal drummers, but they couldn’t swing. Jimmy was the final piece of the puzzle.” The result is a dazzling and often plaintive rumination on the hours, days, and years—not to mention experiences—that comprise a lifetime. Two-part opener “Burning Daylight” smolders with melancholy, offering a whirl of multi-colored and hallucinatory imagery. “It’s about the California wildfires and a feeling of helplessness,” Gamiño explains. “There’s a juxtaposition between the dark lyricism and upbeat music which is meant to imply a sort of delusional state—and choosing our own delusion to overcome the crushing despair of reality.” Eleven-minute centerpiece “Passages” is a sprawling prog-rock adventure, festooned with lofty guitar melodies, sweeping organ flourishes and a delicately finger-picked outro. But the heaviest song, thematically speaking, might be the mournful and hypnotic “Death in Spring,” which borrows its title from the like-named Catalan novel. “In the novel, people are placed inside opened trees and their mouths filled with cement before they die to prevent their souls from escaping,” Gamiño explains. “The song is about three people I knew who lost their lives to gun violence, addiction, and mental health. It’s my way of cementing their souls in song form.” Mondo Drag fans might be surprised by this blend of hard reality with literary surrealism, but it’s a perfect example of how the last several years have impacted Mondo Drag—and Gamiño in particular. “On all of our previous albums, the lyrical content is more psychedelic and out there,” he acknowledges. “This is the most personal stuff I’ve ever done, so I’m definitely feeling vulnerable on this one.” The title Through the Hourglass comes from the opening of the long-running soap opera Days of Our Lives. It’s less inspired by a predilection for daytime TV than Gamiño’s connection with his late mother, who passed during the time since the last album. “I used to watch Days of Our Lives with her everyday growing up,” he explains. “The song is kind of a reinterpretation of the theme song, although it’s different enough that probably no one will catch it. Now that I’m getting older, I like to put these little Easter eggs in the songs for myself and for archival purposes—for memories.” Through the Hourglass was tracked at El Studio in San Francisco, with an additional ten days of recording at the band’s rehearsal space, which doubles as a hybrid analog-digital recording studio. The album was engineered and mixed by Phil Becker, drummer of space-punk mainstays Pins Of Light. “We’re still here,” Gamiño says. “We’ve been in the studio working on our craft and honing our skills. Now we’re re-emerging for the next stage of our life cycle.”

4x LP and Zine (ft. photos, historical text and track narrations by the artist) set. Nation bring it.
An essential delve in to the retrospective works of SSPS. Limited edition. No repress. HUGE TIP ON THIS!

" You can't fake the funk, as they say and SSPS is pure funk embodied in all he does, the man oozes the funk 24-7!
One of my earliest encounters with SSPS was at one of the infamous Rubulad parties out in Brooklyn....
the man was decked out extravagantly...a cross between Blowfly and some futuristic being zapped
down to earth directly from the P-Funk mothership. Who was this masked man?
The disco vampire, was beating fast disco tracks relentlessly while slamming in his 707 over the records in real time...
not an easy feat, the beauty of the imperfections making it that much more exciting hearing the gallop and wild energy
he was bringing to the crowd, we were eating it up. This is SSPS, fearless in his approach and execution,
a modernist looking to the future but rooted in the past, an artist committed to his art...
all presented with unhinged emotion. It's all or nothing...everything on the table....do or die...the true epitome of style!!!!

Declaring someone a "cult figure" or a "legend" is a huge weight to carry and is often a term that is carelessly thrown around,
but those of us who have dwelled in this "underground" over the last 30 years can say with confidence that SSPS is just that
to many of us, no questions asked, it's not up for debate.

Now, many years later we see the culmination of his electronic works from 2002-2021 committed to record in this 4xlp,
16 track boxed set (plus 45 page booklet) titled SSPS, "The Life and Times of GiGi Black" thus solidifying
Mr. Nicholson's place in the secret world of dance not dance music.

The only way to describe this offering is "full spectrum electronic musical madness" not to be categorized,
never to be pigeonholed, full of surprises and straight from the gut with a direct hit to the heart.
We could go on about the production processes, about his Furr City studio space or his cross country excursions
for work with a truck packed with paintings (but also his music equipment) plugging in and recording during his
pit stops in Motel 6's across the US. But again it doesn't do justice to simply have a small peek inside the man's mind...
the music is beyond the mind. The process is the process and nothing has or can stand in the way of what the SSPS
has done in his long musical life. Punk Rock, Hardcore, House, No-Wave, Industrial, Jakbeat/Slow-Beat and Noise.
it's all there for the taking, it's all intertwined. If you want it, you will find it within SSPS's works.

Nicholson's path is the embodiment of true culture within "dance music" cultivated from years of learning, experimenting,
and pushing the limits with total commitment and immersion. "The Life and Times of GiGi Black" is true life experience,
it is a reflection of someone delving deep into his craft and presenting it with care in opposition to the fast, disposable,
self gratifying click bait culture we see dominating the pages today. The proof is here, drop the needle, enter the world of SSPS.














n G2 1000 Truths Balearic Inaugural Mix

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Kelman Duran introduces LA’s Holodec to his Scorpio Red label with a debut album of flickering R&B torchsongs and ambient trap-soul that aches in a very special way. RIYL Dawuna, Burial, Junior Boys, MssingNo, claire rousay, Joy O, Triad God, Sampha…

The smouldering ’All Dogs Come From Wolves’ is a definitive statement by a quietly gifted artist who operates inside the long shadow of late ‘90s US R&B and the space where it intersects ambient, neo-classical, and the weightless bass interzones of contemporary UK club music. Bare boned and bathed in a dusky Californian half-light, the album’s 11 songs feel unnervingly stark yet full of tongue-tip sensuality, making a virtue of negative space and atmosphere with a lo-fi soundtrack-like quality that evokes the idea of nostalgic reflection as the route to the future; “a reminder to look to the past to remember where you’re from, to see where you’re going.”

Holodec's been assembling rugged dancefloor constructions for years now, teetering between 2-step, jungle, nu-rnb, and vaporous ambient forms, but rarely has he been as pointed or full-bodied as he is on ‘All Dogs Come From Wolves’. It's an album that can't possibly be cleaved from the place where it comes from, documenting LA's immigrant experience (Holodec is Asian-American), and finding thematic common ground with Space Afrika's "Honest Labour", absorbing prismatic reflections of footwork, rnb and hip-hop instead of trip-hop and dub techno.

Holodec croons soulfully over muted piano motifs on 'Tiles', evoking the spirit of Sampha or Dawuna, but with a gaseous glamor that's unmistakably Californian. The mood carries into 'The Wild', utilising wistful pads and saturated noise but refusing to let his music sink into the background. If you feel yourself drifting, there's inevitably a voice, a womp, or a stifled drum sound to drag you back into its presence. 'Bounce' is rhythmically heavy, but still somehow smudged around the edges; beats don't so much pump as fray, the closer you listen the more you hear it falling out of time and just out of space. It's more like a memory of neon-hued dance forms than a replication of the thing itself.

Even at the album’s rudest, the flinty jungle drums of ‘Black Market’ still remain desiccated, just out-of-reach, suggesting not telling, in a way that makes the album’s other highlights such as the vaporous R&B voice note of ‘And My Angel Dies Too’ or the shivering baroque figures of ‘Spirit’ so unusually seductive with their nuanced grasp of inference and a reserve of humility.

After a sold out 20 Anniversary 3XLP, Turntables on the Hudson returns with a diverse 3 X vinyl set that carries the Inside the Dance series (previously on WONDERWHEEL Recordings) to all new releases made between the international friends & family between 2020 - 2022. It was a call to action for inspiration, creation, motivation & moving your body in response to the depressing times of initial lockdown & continued music gathering closures during the pandemic. What we did instead was invested in music, art, collaborations, videos, remixes hoping to keep the spirits alive & inspiration high for each other. It’s now Spring of 2022 & we’re happy we did it all. Here’s the fruits of those seeds planted. Songs from artists across the sound spectrum from Morocco, Italy, USA, Spain, Argentina, Peru, UK, Montenegro, France, Belgium, Turkey, Dominican Republic, Niger & more. Almost all songs slightly edited to make sure we got enough output on each side of the record to mix the music in the clubs & on sound systems everywhere. Combining the singles artwork of Marcus (Tupi Lab) & the album LP vinyl art of Bodo (Marcial Arts), we have a very special limited edition 400 until pressing of this soon to be collectible. We hope you enjoy the collective effort that makes this look & sound so special. Ever since the party & label began in 1998, its mission was to shine the light on the underground international community making dance music & after 15 compilations, this is another proud example. Thanks for your continued support.

Jessica Ackerley (Honolulu, Hawaii) and Patrick Shiroishi (Los Angeles, California) are both members of the newly announced super-family-group SSWAN (along with trumpeter Chris Williams, drummer Jason Nazary, and bassist Luke Stewart). Both have prolific outputs and work diligently to push the boundaries of their respective instruments and previous musical ideas.

'Across Water' sees Ackerley and Shiroishi contributing their own unique takes on the ambient sound. Jessica contributes 'I Am Here' and 'The Crevices Between My Heart', each following the collection's theme of water while the guitar and synth work on the second composition gives way to visuals of deep-sea life that can only sustain itself away from the hustle and bustle of crowdedness. Similarly, Patrick is no stranger to straddling the fine lines between subtle and overt emotionality. 'Because You Went There' and 'Leaving It All Behind' are his offerings, seemingly looking up to the sky rather than down ay the ocean, infused by the sweet and smoggy California air.

David Gedge says: “During the summer of 2006 we were invited to record a session for 'One Music With Huw Stephens' - a show on BBC Radio 1. However, this was the year after the 'return' of The Wedding Present and we'd basically been pretty much continually on tour ever since the release of the 'Take Fountain' album the previous year. Accordingly, we didn't really have any new songs of our own and so I decided that we could pursue that other favourite pastime of The Wedding Present... the recording of cover versions! Arranging covers is fascinating, actually, because you get to explore how other people write songs and I think that can often feed back into your own writing. I thought it would be interesting to pick a song from each of four different decades... the 1960s, 70s, 80s and 90s. No particular reason... if we'd've been asked to record five tracks I would have thrown in the 50s, too. So I chose four classic pop songs for us to look at. They weren't particularly 'favourites' - although I have always loved 'Step Inside Love' and 'Lovin’ You' - they were just songs that I thought the band could successfully 're-imagine'. I have never seen the point of recording faithful copies; I have always felt that any Wedding Present version has to bear the stamp of The Wedding Present. And I think we accomplished that particularly well on this session. I'm pretty proud of this E.P., in fact. I remember Graeme Ramsay, our drummer at the time, initially hating the idea of us doing a 'Take That' song but I think he eventually came round to it, especially after The Guardian said it was an interesting 'post-rock' take on the original, or words to that effect..." Track-listing - Step Inside Love/Lovin’ You/Our Lips Are Sealed/Back For Good/

Chris Imler likes to play drums standing up. He‘s the dandy with the killer offbeat, or, as one major German newspaper once put it, the "Grand Seigneur of the Berlin Underground". He has been making his mark on countless Berlin musical affairs since long before the fall of the Wall, with The Golden Showers, Peaches, Oum Shatt, Driver &Driver, Die Türen, Jens Friebe, to name but a few. He has also been perfoming across Europe as a solo artist for the past decade.

In "Operation Schönheit" (German for "Operation Beauty"), he has recorded his most, well, beautiful album to date. But Benedikt Frey's warm production subverts its own beauty with a multitude of clanking and ingling synth sounds, making the work very much about the cosmetic surgery it performs on itself. It's all in the tradition of the more experimental and electronic side of post-punk in which Imler and his unique groove are rooted. It doesn't take insider knowledge of Berlin's post-punk underground to realise that that Imler groove consists of rhythm that sings, vocals that dance and a look that fits, as illustrated by "Disappoint Me", his latest video: https://youtu.be/YeVJ75ljjB8

Elsewhere - such as in "Movies" - the rhythm sings, less electronically reduced, into the acoustics of an old, high-ceilinged Berlin apartment; metal clatters, a zither trembles and Imler plays with the metronome. Sometimes he moves ahead of time, sometimes trails behind it. He always manages to be in his very own groove, which carries everything along. And this is precisely the essence of the Imler rhythm, which lends itself to being applied to the very rhythm of life: Stretch and compress your time and loop it according to your own groove! Optimise nothing but feel everything! And dance to it! Even when contemplating everyday information overload, as Imler's high-speed mumbling suggests in the hectic yet smooth opening track "Temperature".

But being the ultimate night owl he is, Imler manages to make even the odd bout of paranoia seem like a good thing: like some kind of krauty, groovy B-horror-soundtrack-inflected high-pressure environment, "Whip Me" is a cross between Conrad Schnitzler and Bauhaus. In the title track, whose lyrics were written together with Jens Friebe, he intones: "You want to be something greater / You break your leg / When it heals again / You break it again" and sounds like the most gleeful fatalist you can imagine. Because in his city, one can still lose oneself better than anywhere else - a night easily becomes a whole universe that can be traversed, marvelled at and played with, and one might find one's old self again only when hearing "church bells" and "small birds singing". At least that's how Imler illustrates it in "Emptiness full of stars", and it seems likely that those "stars" are the human companions of the Berlin night in question.

And so once again Imler becomes Berlin's most important cultural ambassador: that scene of the eternally, and somehow successfully, failing creatures of the night, once the envy of the international postmodern bohème, has, despite many claims to the contrary, not been completely "optimised away", and its attitude to life is perfectly summed up in Imler's groove. And, of course, his look. "Schau Hin" (German for "Look!"), he sings in the track of the same name, masterfully dubbed out with the help of Melbourne's Leo James.

Quite right! Look - and listen.

Yours, Johannes von Weizsäcker (The Chap)

The Nonesuch debut of Hurray for the Riff Raff (aka Alynda Segarra), LIFE ON EARTH, is a departure for the Bronx-born, New Orleans-based singer/songwriter. Its eleven new “nature punk” tracks on the theme of survival are music for a world in flux – songs about thriving, not just surviving, while disaster is happening. Hurray for the Riff Raff tours North America this spring, beginning March 19 in Atlanta and continuing through April 20 in Nashville, with stops in Austin, Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York, among others. International tour dates will be announced shortly.

For her eighth full-length album, Segarra (they/she) drew inspiration from The Clash, Beverly Glenn-Copeland, Bad Bunny, and the author of Emergent Strategy, adrienne maree brown. Recorded during the pandemic, Life on Earth was produced by Brad Cook (Waxahatchee, Bon Iver, Kevin Morby).

Life on Earth’s first single, ‘RHODODENDRON’, is about “finding rebellion in plant life. Being called by the natural world and seeing the life that surrounds you in a way you never have. A mind expansion. A psychedelic trip. A spiritual breakthrough. Learning to adapt, and being open to the wisdom of your landscape. Being called to fix things in your own backyard, your own community,” says Segarra.

Of the ‘Rhododendron’ video, which was directed by New Orleans-based artist Lucia Honey, Segarra says: “It is really far out and fun. I got this bodysuit that just looks like the inside of the human body. It looks like you’re skinless. It’s in a scene where I’m playing to an audience of plants. Just really absurd, but I put that suit on and I was like man, this feels really good. It feels like, ‘This is who I am. Let’s just take the skin off.’

“It reminds me a little bit of Kids in the Hall,” they continue. “With this ‘Rhododendron’ shoot, something clicked in me where I was like, ‘All I have to do is be myself.’ I had been thinking that I had to be something bigger than myself. I felt like I was just never quite making the mark and then something clicked where I was like, ‘I just gotta be me. I could do that. I could show up and be me. And if people don’t like it, then I don’t know what to fucking tell them.’ It was like a brain shift of, ‘Oh, this can be fun. It doesn’t have to be suffering.’ With so many videos and photo shoots before, it really felt like suffering. I felt so uncomfortable being perceived. I didn’t know who I was.”

Honey adds: “We wanted to create something surreal, playful, and saturated that indulged heavily in the aesthetic of the early ‘90s. Alynda and I had many overlapping visual and philosophical references which sparked the initial collaboration. We wanted to make this video an homage to Gregg Araki’s Teenage Apocalypse trilogy but as a nature documentary crossover. I came across Araki’s work as a queer teenager, and he’s always been a big inspiration. Sex, blood, punk rock, camp, etc.

“We live in a moment where the future is bleaker and more unknown than ever, so there becomes a deep comfort in nostalgia and reliving the past. Through our talks, I realised Alynda’s new album touches on many of these same subjects, but perhaps in reverse; running from a past that is always haunting you. Shifting into a more refined self/identity through confronting one’s trauma and baggage. It was easy to reach collaborative synergy for this video project because we’re both interested in tackling similar issues.”

Alynda Segarra was born and raised in the Bronx, which they left at the age of seventeen, running away from everything and everyone they knew, hopping freight trains or hitchhiking across the country in the company of a band of street urchins. Segarra moved to New Orleans in 2007 and formed two bands: Dead Man’s Street Orchestra and Hurray for the Riff Raff. In 2015, Segarra decamped to Nashville, then to New York, to make her most recent album, 2016’s critically praised The Navigator, an ambitious and fully realized concept album that was her quest to reclaim her Puerto Rican identity. Segarra’s previous records as Hurray for the Riff Raff are Crossing the Rubicon (EP, 2007), It Don’t Mean I Don’t Love You (2008), Young Blood Blues (2010), Hurray for the Riff Raff (2011), Look Out Mama (2012), My Dearest Darkest Neighbor (2013), and Small Town Heroes (2014).

 The Slow Show release their fourth studio album, their first for three years, entitled ‘Still Life’,
via PIAS. The four-piece, who first formed in Manchester, will support the release with a
European tour in February and March 2022, culminating in an already sold-out hometown show
at Manchester’s Hallé St Peters on 4th March.
 Lead track ‘Blinking’ is a perfect taster to the new direction ‘Still Life’ offers. Same but different
again. “An ode to love and loyalty. The song is a defiant pledge to never giving up on the
people you love. Musically we wanted the song to have impact, a directness and powerful
punch that we’d previously shied away from.” - Robert Goodwin (vocals)
 The making of ‘Still Life’ has been quite the ride. Following their breakthrough album, ‘White
Water’, it was clear The Slow Show were not just ‘another band from Manchester’. The legacy
of The Smiths, Joy Division and all those other great predecessors is not something to be trifled
with, but The Slow Show didn't need to wear their address on their sleeve: this was something
else, fully formed, with a mesmerising sound, rich in atmosphere and melody.
 With the band’s desire to push each other outside of their respective comfort zones during the
recording process, ‘Still Life’ subsequently offers a more diverse, rich and interesting sound
than previous albums.
 “We did develop our sound,” says Rob Goodwin. “We had to try something else. We felt we
owed that to ourselves, and to the people that come and enjoy the music. We explored a lot of
stuff: different sounds, different feelings, different ideas, different processes as well. Some of
them didn’t work at all, but some did. It was difficult and challenging, but it felt good in the end.”
 This experimental side to the creative process allowed the band to introduce new elements to
their work. “Some new approaches and sounds crept in,” keyboardist Frederik ‘T Kindt admits.
“Some were far from our older work. For instance: after some initial encouragement from me,
Rob was keen to sing a bit higher on this record. Chris was encouraged to make his drums a
bit more present; some things almost sound like a breakbeat to my ears.”
 Recorded remotely over the course of the past year, with Goodwin recording vocals from
Dusseldorf in Germany and the rest of band recording in the UK, ‘Still Life’, as a concept, takes
inspiration from the experiences of lockdown: “Before the virus arrived, I had a busy life;
spending two weeks in Germany with my girlfriend, and then flying to Manchester to work with
Fred or to a gig.” Goodwin remarks: “And then all of a sudden, life came to a halt. It took a little
getting used to, but I actually had a really nice realisation during that time. I understood that the
slower life got, the more I saw. I spent a lot of time in nature, seeing things in a different
perspective. And that's what you need when you're trying to create. You have to really look,
and then you see things happening everywhere.”
 The tracks themselves are brimming with emotion and reverence towards the significant
relationships we encounter in life. Stand-out anthem ‘Blinking’ is a defiant pledge to never
giving up on the people you love. Musically the band wanted the song to have impact, a
directness and powerful punch that they’d previously shied away from. Whilst ‘Woven Blue’
deals with the aftermath of uncoupling. The idea that meaningful relationships are very often
woven and complex, making resolve difficult.
 These very personal tracks are counterbalanced with the more topical, ‘Breathe’, which
documents some of the unjust and heart-breaking scenes of 2020 with spoken word references
to John Boyega’s emotional rallying cry in support of Black Lives Matter movement in London’s
Hyde Park.
 In all, Still Life marks another evolution of a band that have never tried to fit in any particular
box but have inhabited their own unique universe.
 LP pressed on white viny

One concerned with illness (no, not that one) and recovery. Inside to outside. Darkness into light. A way through the woods. The Doozer aka Simon Loynes is now seven LPs into a subterranean solo voyage begun in 2007, and to those of us who have followed it, the songs that make up Convalescence could be seen to embody a kind of late style - ultra-lucid, pared-down, precise; seemingly simple in form, richly complex in effect. Where The Doozer’s last outing, 2018’s Figurines (FTR360), showcased his songs at their most propulsive and and electrified, Convalescence is a more hushed, hermitic, even claustrophobic affair - dispensing with percussion almost entirely, the focus is tight on Loynes’ voice and plangent acoustic guitar, with occasional daubings and interludes of wheezing keyboard, all recorded to Tascam 246 4-track cassette in Edinburgh, Summer 2019. For a considerable chunk of time, health issues had left Loynes unable to sing. On this record you can hear him rediscovering his voice: its unique grain, its responsiveness, its capacity for creating and sustaining emotional ambiguity, for oscillating elegantly between whimsy and woundedness. As with previous Doozer albums, there’s an arcadian impulse at the heart of Convalescence: a sense of exile, or withdrawal, from ‘The Garden’ - and the need to return. The idea that, in your lowest ebb, you might recover your sense of self somewhere in the pastoral landscape of your memories. We're told the shadow of Malcolm Lowry looms large over the record – Lowry the void-chaser, the great misadventurer. Does Convalescence report from the abyss? If so then it's with a coolness and control, a lightness of touch, that conceals as much as it reveals. But beyond the neurosis, the ironic deflections, the flashes of matter-of-fact bleakness (“there isn’t time / there isn’t love”), there lies a deep, Lowry-ish romanticism, and a rejection of pessimism: even at its lowest ebb, Convalescence gestures towards an immense and loving truth – and knows that the possibility of that truth is far more interesting than the numerous ways in which it might be denied. A co-release with Feeding Tube Records USA.

Parcels have always been a band of extreme light and shade: they’re from surf hotspot Byron Bay in Australia but they’ve been holed up in grimy nightlife utopia Berlin for years; their sweet-as-honey vocal harmonies rival the Beach Boys but they can also turn their live shows into slamming techno rave-ups. The twentysomethings stand out amid the current musical landscape: a soulful rock band that looks like it’s stepped out of a postcard from 1970s California, all flares, moustaches and shaggy hair. They’re a classic band for atypical times.

Since Crommelin, keyboardist Louie Swain, keyboardist/guitarist Patrick Hetherington, bassist Noah Hill and drummer Anatole ‘Toto’ Serret formed in 2014, fresh out of school, they’ve struck upon a singular sound, weaving together gossamer disco and exotica, soft rock and Sixties pop with a focus on uplifting grooves. Their seductive style has translated into 100,000 album sales worldwide, over 200 million streams, cross-continental tours, shows with French royalty Phoenix and Air, a US TV debut on Conan O’Brien, a Coachella slot and a debut single that was produced by none other than Daft Punk, who saw them live in Paris and ushered them into their studio.

After two EPs, 2015’s Clockscared and 2017’s Hideout (the band’s penchant for smooshing words together is a result of a broken keyboard when they submitted their first demo), Parcels’ acclaimed self-titled debut album came in 2018 and was called “timeless and devilishly fun'' in a five-star NME review. They followed it in 2020 with an impressive live album, Live Vol.1, recorded at Hansa Studios, the legendary studio where Iggy Pop and David Berlin hung out during their Berlin years.

The band returns for summer 2021 with an ambitious third studio album,
Day/Night, a double record that spans impossibly catchy disco-soul, prog, pastoral folk, Laurel Canyon-era classic songwriting and cinematic strings. Made over the course of 2020, when the world was at a standstill, it’s the sound of a band growing up; five guys who’ve known each other since childhood and are finding their way together, in spite of all the major obstacles the last 18 months have thrown at them, when they were unable to return home to Australia and see their loved ones. Day/Night is huge in scope and sound, and its hopeful messages of perseverance through difficult times are a balm for these uncertain times.

2 LP Boxset. 2 vinyls packaged together in a clear PVC wallet (in order to display each vinyl cover). 2 x : 140 G black vinyl ( 33 rpm)+ 3mm spine printed sleeve + printed inner sleeve + cmyk vinyl label.
Cello. Marketing Front sticker 5 cm x 7 cm , back cover sticker (upc + tracklisting) 5 cm x 7 cm