Buscar:loose change

This brand new EP from the Cornish improv noise / post-rock / shoegaze trio is their first release since their acclaimed second album Sleepover, which came out at the end of 2021. It features two long tracks and vocals from their Sonic Cathedral bandmate Lorena Quintanilla from Lorelle Meets The Obsolete. “One of our recording sessions resulted in a couple of tracks that had a very different energy to what we’ve recorded to date because there was less of a motif-based approach to them, which made them kind of scenic,” explains Mildred Maude guitarist Matt Ashdown. “We felt like they were the best opportunity we’ve had for doing a collaboration. We’ve played a few shows with Lorelle Meets the Obsolete and really clicked – we love what she does in that band and also as J. Zunz – so we asked her to do both tracks. It feels completely right – a natural pairing.” “I love collaborations and this one was really special,” adds Lorena. “I feel honoured to be part of this EP. I always enjoy seeing Mildred Maude, I feel that one can grasp eternity during their sets. With ‘Half The Sky’, the vocal melody and lyrics came out immediately, I felt like I was in a room jamming with them and everything was slowly flowing and growing. As for ‘Shifting’, it was another story. It is such a beautiful song, and I didn't want to mess it up. They liked one of the takes I sent, so I kept on that track for the first part and for the end I looped vocals on my DL4.” “Vocals change everything and give it a different air of completeness, but Lorena understands our music, so she was able to maintain its looseness,” concludes Matt. “We’re stunned by what Lorena has done; she’s given both tracks a different life

This re-issue faithfully replicates the original 1995 Polydor Records UK 2LP release with gatefold sleeve and 12 page booklet and is pressed onto high quality 180g vinyl.

Originally released on Polydor Records in October 1995, All Change reached No 7 in the UK charts, and spawned four Top 20 singles. Cast were formed in 1992 and were something of a scouse supergroup, with leader, guitarist John Power previously bassist in The La's and bassist Peter Wilkinson coming from Shack. Originally a loose conglomerate with various members, Power added guitarist Liam 'Skin' Tyson and drummer Keith O' Neill, and by 1994 Cast were signed to Polydor.

Led by singles Finetime and Alright, Cast's blend of ultra- melodic Merseybeat Britpop proved that they were the right band at the right time. All Change became a runaway success, selling over a million and becoming the fastest-selling debut album in Polydor's history, bolstered by further singles Sandstorm and Walkaway. The catchy, upbeat album closed with the eight- minute epic Two Of A Kind, showing that the band had sufficient skills to take on any Britpop heavyweight.

Well, we're two full months into 2017 and the world continues to burn like an avalanche of flaming biohazard material sliding down a mountain of used needles into a canyon full of rat feces. But hey, it's not all bad: Portugal. The Man has a new album coming out called Woodstock.


PTM's last album came out over three years ago—a long gap for a band who've dropped roughly an album a year since 2006. And in true, prolific band fashion, they've spent almost every minute since 2013 working on an album called Gloomin + Doomin. They created a shit-ton of individual songs, but as a whole, none of them hung together in a way that felt right. Then John Gourley, PTM's lead singer, made a trip home to Wasilla, Alaska, (Home of Portugal. The Man's biggest fan, Sarah Palin) and two things happened that completely changed the album's trajectory.

First, John got some parental tough love from his old man, who called John on the proverbial carpet or dogsled or whatever you put people on when you want to yell at them in Alaska. What's taking so long to finish the album' John's dad said. Isn't that what bands do Write songs and then put them out' Like fathers and unlicensed therapists tend to do, John's dad cut him deep. The whole thing started John thinking about why the band seemed to be stuck on a musical elliptical machine from hell and, more importantly, about how to get off of it.

Second, fate stuck its wiener in John's ear again when he found his dad's ticket stub from the original 1969 Woodstock music festival. It seems like a small thing, but talking to his dad about Woodstock '69 knocked something loose in John's head. He realized that, in the same tradition of bands from that era, Portugal. The Man needed to speak out about the world crumbling around them. With these two ideas converging, the band made a seemingly bat-shit-crazy decision: they took all of the work they had done for the three years prior and they threw it out.

It wasn't easy and there was the constant threat that the band's record label might have them killed, but the totally insane decision paid off. With new, full-on, musical boners, the band went back to the studio—working with John Hill (In The Mountain In The Cloud), Danger Mouse (Evil Friends), Mike D (Everything Cool), and longtime collaborator Casey Bates (The one consistent producer since the first record). In this new-found creative territory, the album that became Woodstock rolled out naturally from there.

Remember that mountain of burning needles we were talking about Good. Because Woodstock is an album (Including the new single Feel It Still') that—with optimism and heart—points at the giant pile and says, Hey, this pile is fucked up!' And if you think that pile is fucked up too, you owe it to yourself—hell, to all of us—to get out there and do something about it.

LTD ORANGE VINYL

GLOK is the electronic alter ego of Andy Bell; best-known as the guitarist in venerated shoegazers Ride, alongside stints in other famous groups, with a noteworthy solo careertoo. This October his first album proper as GLOK - 'Pattern Recognition' - is released via Ransom Note Records' sisterlabel Bytes. Although usually renowned for purveying the finest quality jangle, drone and general guitar-based magic, Bell's forayinto dance music should come as less of a surprise than immediately meets the eye. There are parallels between the genres within the sonically-deep layers, hypnotic sound and trance-like headspaces, or, as he puts it more succinctly: "GLOK is all about the push and pull between electronic and psych in my music." Although not a full-blown concept album, 'Pattern Recognition' has a loose thread which takes in a week of life, from weekend to weekend, with each of the vinyl's four sides capturing different mind states across that transition. Each side has a distinct feel that's different to the last but inherently cohesive - much like the changes an individual goes through over 7 days. Across the album with loving craft Andy weaves together throbbing dubbed-out acid, steamy jack trax, levitational psychedelia, sparkling Balearic, techno, Kosmische, shoegaze, art rock and Compass Point-style post punk -with just a hint of ambient, new age and contemporary classical too.

As for the music: no sophomore slumping to be
found here. Back then Matador wrote, “With
impossibly huge hooks and an innate
understanding of every pop trick in the book, this
follow-up to 2000’s breakthrough ‘Mass Romantic’
is the most exciting pop record we’ve heard in a
long while.”

For once, tastemakers of the day shared the
label’s enthusiasm: “The New Pornographers mix
the pop purism of the Beach Boys, the power
charge of Cheap Trick and the gentle psychedelia
of Syd Barrett,” wrote the New York Times, who
labelled ‘Electric Version’ “Some of the best pop of
the year.”

Memory is malleable. The day you met the person you love, what color shirt was she wearing? At precisely what angle did the sunlight strike his face? How exactly did they glow? These little details are precious, but the strange thing is, the more you cherish them, the more they change. Each recollection is another potential touch point where stories can shift—each replay degrades the truth. Reality's rough edges smooth, with time. Objectivity is a myth: cameras and recording devices all contort image and sound. There's no way to know exactly how things were. And yet we still tell the stories, to try to capture how things felt, even though the truth is always slipping through our fingers.

Lemon Quartet's second albumArts Festseems to unconsciously circle this thematic territory. Full of loose, yet lush repetition, it seems to function like memory—each dizzy melody recalling and rewriting what came before, subtly shaping each piece as time passes. Not that they seem especially concerned with the passage of time anyway. They space out, they work in the realm of feelings, scribbling melodious abstractions that feel familiar. Rich with compassion, harmony, and gestures toward ecstatic—if not objective—truth, it's full of the sort of pieces that demand you return to them, but sound a bit different each time, new details overtaking familiar comforts. Are you hearing them for the first time? Or just for the first time in a long time? Either way, drift away, and try to remember…

Straight outta Rockaway Beach, Queens, New York City, USA, THE WORLD, Prison is a state of mind, an experience, a loose collective, a band, a jam band and a bunch of psychedelic dudes who aren"t your average bunch of jambanders. All that, all at once, ALL THE TIME. You get what you"re dealing with here? No...you don"t. The only way to REALLY get it is to go to Prison -- and if you"re not from greater NYC and haven"t showed at any of the shows, here"s your best bet: their breakout album, Upstate. And whatta breakout! So high, you can"t get under it; so wide, you can"t get over it! How wide? Every song has two titles, that"s how wide. And almost everybody sings, like, all the time. That wide. Sure, you can break down the numbers -- five guys, five songs and four sides of vinyl in one gatefold sleeve -- but that won"t get you Upstate, either. Prison is the sound of everybody in the room figuring out where to go, individually and collectively. As they go through it, the meaning changes, the destination changes, the words mean something different. It"s meaning and no meaning, rising and falling, sinking and flying on the back of something massive cacophonized by three guitars, four vocals, a bass and drums. A lot of information bouncing around and enough time to really get you out of yourself! Take a look at the titles: each one a dichotomous inquest that the assembled Prison-ers march upon with fervor, glee, vengeance -- a whole spectrum of feels and perspectives woven into the jam for you to see. The Prison population changes with the seasons, and during the season this album was recorded, Sarim Al-Rawi, Mike Fellows, Sam Jayne, Matt Lilly and Paul Major were in Prison. Sarim you might know from Liquor Store, Mike"s made a bunch of scenes and records as Mighty Flashlight, Sam, who passed away in 2020 (R.I.P., brother) was in Love as Laughter -- and Paul Major you know from Endless Boogie, who Matt had roadied for -- and despite being "just a skateboarder who loves music" with no previous experience on the drums, he and Sarim inaugurated the Prison experience, like, seven years ago. Since then, it just fell together and it keeps doing so. A free thing called Prison.

By 1994, Prince had changed his name to Love Symbol, and his relationship with lifelong label Warner Bros. Records was under great strain, and Come was just one of several albums that Prince delivered in quick succession to release himself from his contractual commitments. Despite a lack of support from The Artist, the album reached Number One in the UK.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic travelling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviours are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behaviour has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behaviour and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic traveling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviors are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behavior has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behavior and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Shapes of Rhythm is proud to present the self-titled debut LP of Turkish psychedelic pop from MLDVA & Çınar Timur. This record is a celebration of the classic music and culture typically of the 70s and 80s, but which also leans into western jazz funk and soul jazz moments. If you're into the Turkish music legends of the 70s and 80s such as Barış Manço and more recently Altın Gün or Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek, you've come to the right place.

MLDVA were formed in Krakow, Poland in 2013 as a DJ and production outfit. Under the influence of Greek and Turkish folk and psych-rock music they began to transform into a band, taking up instruments including the Saz which is one of the most recognisable trademarks of the Turkish sound. Two years later in 2015 they invited Turkish instrumentalist Çınar Timur to join them and this completes the line up on their debut. This electric album is packed with excellently-recorded expansive tracks which are full of energy, psychedelic deep grooves, hard-hitting breakbeats and everything else you'd expect with classic Turkish sounds.

The instrumental double-header of Neşat Erkaş' Zülüf Dökülmüş Yüze, moving into the time-honoured traditional Kozan Dağıis the perfect opening track. The introduction is an overture of sorts with two minutes of Çınar Timur's pondering guitar. This tees up the record perfectly before heading into a break-beat driven workout with the band matching Çınar's evocative and energetic riffing. The result is a tight sound and a heavy groove that sets the tone for what's to come.

With the band unveiled, Sarı Çizmeli Mehmet Ağa, written by Barış Manço (a legend in Turkish popular music), hits a relaxed, deeper and more psychedelic groove, dominated by Wojciech Długosz's dreamy Rhodes piano, set against choppy wah-wah guitar licks that characterize that classic electric Turkish pop sound. We're introduced to Ulaş Çıbuk's vocals for the first time, telling the historic tale of a charitable village lord Mehmet Ağa from 19c Anatolia known for his generosity. He shared his fortune with people inneed and as a result, died penniless. This track also features the unique sound of Çınar's Mictrotonal electric guitar.

Bir Adım Öte is MLDVA & Çınar Timur's magnificent mellow moment, marking the halfway point in their debut. The group shows that it's not all about the frenetic in a nod to western Soul-Jazz constructs. They showcase restraint, emotion and that joy in repetition of a wonderful guitar refrain. Not content with holding this down, Wojciech Długosz's Rhodes solo steps into a world that's US-influenced Soul jazzand is a lesson in reduction and feeling. Çınar Timur then takes a solo turn, keeping it western-influenced with an on the spot improvisation. When the three minutes of solos are over, we're brought back out of thedream and towards the East again.

Adımız Miskindir Bizim kicks off like a hip hop/funk crossover tune, until the chord changes muscle in, to remind you where you are in the world. As with other tracks on the debut, the tune is marked by recurring motifs, this time from Çınar's microtonal electric guitar. We've more solo Rhodes action, thist ime busier and more urgent. The lyrics–originally written by Yunus Emre – criticizevalues such as holding grudges that destroy ideas of love, friendship and peace among people which causes hostility. Adımız Miskindir Bizim concludes with an uplifting vocal vamp which switches it up unlike any of thetracks on the LP.

In Fesupanallah– made most popular by Erkin Koray – Ulaş Çıbuk sings about the simple subject ofbeing patient with never ending problems in life, and trying to find a solution for them. This cut takes a rhythmical side-step to the rest of the album. The kick drum maps out a solid four-four, but the vocals and guitar lines move around it to impose Fesupanallah as being the record's most traditionally Turkish-sounding cut.

The album's closing track Ölüm Allah'ın Emri (another Manço classic) was recorded live in the band's more familiar surroundings of Krakow's Cheder Cafe during 2020's Jewish Culture Festival. The lyrics tell the tale of someone who has accepted death but cannot accept the separation that comes with it. We open with a dreamy, psychedelic mood before progressing into a heavy-riffing rock feeling with probing synths. Ulaş delivers his vocals over the top of a stripped back, shuffling groove. As the track progresses towards a frenetic conclusion, drummer Szymon Piotrowski cuts loose, combining with Grzegorz Dąbek's synth lines.

MLDVA & Çınar Timur's debut LP is not the sound of a band starting out. Taking time to hone their craft and let influences across the global spectrum of music mature, this is the result of years of jamming, gigging and collaborating. Now, after prestigious festival appearances and their place on Saz Power – an essential modern Turkish music compilation – they're making a lasting contribution to a rich, time-honored culture. MLDVA & Çınar Timur releases Friday 30 June 2023 on limited edition vinyl LP and digital download/streaming services on Shapes of Rhythm. Global distribution by Kudos Records.

Habibi Funk is excited to share “Marzipan” - our first full length contemporary release courtesy of Beirut’s multi-instrumental phenom Charif Megarbane, also known as the man behind prolific Cosmic Analog Ensemble. The LP is a journey into Charif’s styling, one he terms “Lebrary”: a vision of Lebanon + Mediterranean expressed through the kaleidoscopic sonics of library music. Drawing from artists that encapsulates the HF sound, such as Ziad Rahbani, Ahmed Malek and Issam Hajali, Charif translates these influences into an LP that is equally at home in ’23. We always wondered why Charif’s music stayed under the radar for so long, that all changes with “Marzipan”.
Charif Megarbane, the staggeringly prolific producer, instrumentalist, and all-around musical mastermind returns with full LP “Marzipan.” Following his previous release of EP “Tayara Warak” in 2022, “Marzipan” is a sonic journey that seeks to capture the full scope of Megarbane’s habitus. As a composer and producer, Megarbane touts hugely versatile, sometimes volatile musicianship — his 100+ catalogue of projects (including legendary groups like the Cosmic Analog Ensemble, Free Association Syndicate, Monumental Detail, etc.) features a huge domain of sonic direction. This collection was previously developed in Megarbane’s own Hisstology label which hosts a wealth of collaborative efforts. Now, Habibi Funk represents Megarbane under his own name. Megarbane finds a sonic through-line in his surrounding soundscapes as he draws on the chaotic energy of the crowded Beirut metropolis (“Souk El Ahad”), the warm atmosphere of the Lebanese countryside (“Chez Mounir”), or the lushness of a Mediterranean beach resort (“Portemilio”). Reflecting the aural composition of his direct surroundings into kaleidoscopic instrumentation provides a unique insight into how one musical phenomenon transposes sight into sound. Habibi Funk is thrilled to share “Marzipan” and finally throttle this under-theradar phenomenon into the solo spotlight. Despite the magnitude of his catalog, Megarbane’s LP sounds as fresh—as resolutely inspired—as a debut record. “Marzipan” continues down the winding path he trod on EP “Tayyara Warak” (released Decmber, 2022) which features solid footing in the hectic city sounds Megarbane hears as home. Despite his obvious musical acumen, Megarbane’s greatest talent seems to be his open ears. In many ways, “Marzipan” is a cartographic feat — it travels and traces a journey across many dimensions (both sonic and physical). Megarbane’s instrumental catalogue is vast: toy glockenspiel, harpsichord, pedal steel, a classic Wurlitzer, et al are used liberally on the record. The resultant sound is as sprawling as the musician’s instrumental dexterity. “Marzipan’s” closing track “Bala 3anouan” can be translated loosely to “without address” — a fitting final word. Despite the entire record being a sincere testament to Megarbane’s environmental approach to music-making, the record is not bound to any particular coordinates, or any particular sound for that matter. The vastness of his influences — beloved artists like Ahmed Malek and Issam Hajali (both Habibi Funk veterans); West African funk deep cuts; European cinematic scores; et al — result in a record of somewhat unparalleled expansiveness. Floating melodies and frantic rhythmic interludes both find natural homes across “Marzipan.” The record is tinged with psychedelic elements—fuzz-drenched guitar, sliding microtonal interludes, hypnotic rhythmic breakdowns. Reflecting on his creative process, Megarbane cites a stream of consciousness approach: “It’s a very spontaneous, playful, and diary-like approach and workflow…I trust my instinct because instinct is based on experience.” Lead single “Souk El Ahad” opens the roll-out with a raucous energy, out June 12. Megarbane abstracts busy city sounds into a psychedelic framework, casting technicolor hues on everyday experience. Following is second single “Pas de Dialogue” out June 23. The track jerks the listener towards a more meditative state with lulling harpsichord and expanding, cinematic sound. “Marzipan” will be available physically and digitally everywhere on July 14, 2023. Be sure to listen for focus track “Chez Mounir” that captures the warmth of community in a joyful, laidback groove.
Uncover greater insight into the world of Charif Megarbane in the booklet accompanying the LP

Freakazoid was written mostly in the months before the pandemic. When we were ready to start tracking, we found ourselves with a lot of free time to be creative but no opportunity to get together, so we tried something we'd never done - recording an album all by ourselves in isolation. To create the sessions, we would record instruments separately in our houses and email the tracks to each other. That was an extremely frustrating and time-consuming process that took from the fall of 2020 until late 2022 to complete. We were used to banging out albums in a studio in a few weeks so it was a blessing and curse to have all the time in the world to work on it. They say great art is never finished, it is only abandoned and that's how it felt to wrap this up. There are still little changes I wish I could make from time to time but I've had to learn to just let it go. That being said, I'm so proud of the album and so happy that the reaction has been so incredibly positive so far.

Revised and remastered edition of Joe Henderson's 1987 album 'An Evening With Joe Henderson' with two bonus tracks from the same.


"Saxophonist Joe Henderson has been described as one of the great chord change players of jazz history, and this aspect of his playing, that had its roots in bebop and Sonny Rollins' approach to improvisation, is very apparent in the repertoire of songs he chose to play that night, each piece with interesting chord changes beginning with Thelonious ' Monk's Ask Me Now'. Although Henderson's style grew out of Rollins' sense of phrasing, rhythmically Henderson was a lot looser and built on Rollins's style to create his own approach to improvisation."

BABY BLUE VINYL

"Workin' all day, trying to forget about the old me." Like most of us, Martin Frawley is busy trying to work himself out. He lives alongside the long shadow of his late dad, musician and songwriter Maurice Frawley, a cultural icon of the Australian underground and collaborator of Paul Kelly, Tex Perkins and Mick Thomas. Most of Martin's 20s were spent writing and playing songs in locally beloved Melbourne band Twerps - a collection of pals who were on the forefront of the city's jangle pop renaissance. A few albums, US tours and band rotations under its belt, Twerps split up in 2018 and Martin turned his compass towards a solo project. His first album, Undone at 31 (2019), was a bit of a reckoning; a wild ride through the wreckage of both a band and longterm romantic break up. His new album The Wannabe is a personal, cheeky and, at times, self-depreiciating collection of songs unpacking the reality of finding his way as an adult without his dad around, and ultimately falling back in love with life, music and someone new. Martin and his band - friends Dan Luscombe (The Drones), Steph Hughes (Boomgates, Dick Diver), Nik Imfeld (Tyrannaman) and Dan Kelly - had heaps of fun recording The Wannabe in Melbourne. The title track is a particularly spicy take on an entertainment industry that seems to give more shits about marketing than music. The album is a bit of an emotional tour, from anger and derision, through to comedy, through to deep and honest love. It's positive with a lot of sadness. Not unlike Martin himself. As well as the guitar, Martin had some fun playing the piano on this record. The technical term is `multiinstrumentalist' but Martin's more of a musical explorer of sorts. No one is exactly sure how these things work - if Martin was born into music or if it was born into him, but it doesn't really matter. Music is what he loves. It's what he does. It's not about the industry or about success - not anymore. It's about the freedom of creating songs on his own terms, and trying to let go of the feeling he has something to prove: to his dad, to his critics, and to himself. And while he's not sure he'll ever fully shake that feeling, he's at least relaxing and having a bit of fun doing it. Like his dad, Martin has a reputation as a `musician's musician'. He hosts a pretty sporadic podcast Dive For Your Memory, where he has fast and loose chats with musicians while doing a deep dive into their musical inspirations and canon. He and his fiancé Lauren also make wine under the label El'More Wines, named after the farm and small town where his dad grew up. It's all come a bit full circle, really.

Robin Saville - one half of the influential duo ISAN - returns to Morr Music with »Lore«, his fourth solo album to date. After 2020’s »Build A Diorama«, the British musician takes his love for field recordings, whirring pads, hovering bells and subtle electronics further, adding extra depth to both his sonic palette and his storytelling, focussing on biological diversity and its implications for human life.

For many years now, ›look and listen‹ has been Robin Saville's motto on his regular environmental explorations. The avid ambler does not just enjoy being out and about in nature; it is an important inspiration for his creative work as well. Sounds, smells, colours and even soil properties add to the experience. Equipped with a microphone and a recording device, Saville documents his strolls, using these recordings as a base for his compositions. »The field recordings on the album were made very locally this time, for obvious reasons,« he says. Welcome to the sonic landscape of the UK's East Anglia.

»Judith Avenue«, the opening track, is a great example of how Saville evolved his perspective on the sounds of nature: »It is a residential street, fading into a scrubby, wild landscape. There, I made a recording of nightingales at dusk. Such romantic birds! The males fly here from Africa a couple of weeks ahead of the females. They find a good territory, and at dusk, when all the other birds are going quiet, they start to sing to tempt the females down from their migratory flight paths. This has happened for thousands of years. However, the patch of ground where I made the recordings is earmarked for development and I don't suppose it'll happen there again. The recordings therefore become part of the history of that place, the lore.«

Recording the sounds of nature and enriching them with electronic sorcery, Saville is not only a documenting preservationist; he also translates these recordings into meaningful musical miniatures. Building on the soundscapes that marked his previous LP »Build A Diorama«, »Lore« is dominated by both open-hearted melancholy and more upbeat rhythms. But even when the music sounds quirky and loose, there is always deeper meaning. The album is characterised by an ever present melancholy about the threatening loss of living spaces, and a celebration of their beauty. This simultaneity turns the tracks into existential meditations about our human habitat. Saville enriches our lives musically by addressing the very issues we often ignore. At the same time, he becomes an agent of hope and change. Moving between light and dark, »Lore« is a musical allegory of where we stand today.

»The album is a document of places and times and while it is certainly a celebration of those things, it is also a record of things we are losing. That's how interaction with nature feels to me nowadays: something precious and amazing, but with an underlying sadness about the destructive relationship that humanity seems inevitably to have with the world around it.«

Let's not lose any more things.

To mark its ten year anniversary, Mexican Summer presents a new, limited edition pressing of No Joy’s classic album Wait to Pleasure expanded with two new tracks from the beloved band's original line up. Wait To Pleasure is the product of the Montreal noise-pop band’s first foray in a fullyfurnished studio environment. Here the band has flourished, delivering their finest set to date, rooted heavily in shoegaze ripcurls and devastating melody, finishing sentences whispered long ago with depth, variance and force. Singer-guitarists Jasamine White-Gluz and Laura Lloyd and drummer Garland Hastings knock down the fence between nostalgiaand modernity, chaos and control, in a perfectly- realized effort made to bridge their uncompromised musical pasts with the alarmist tendencies of the present. Wait To Pleasure found No Joy set loose in Mexican Summer’s studio, Gary’s Electric, for two weeks in 2012, with producer Jorge Elbrecht at the helm. “Our earlier records are purely guitar-based, rock band lineups,” Laura adds, “and with Wait To Pleasure we seized the opportunity to change things up a bit.”

Limited to 1000 copies on Sea Blue vinyl! There's freedom to be found in consistency. Until recently, Juan Wauters may not have agreed with this statement. As a touring musician and multinational citizen, transience had always come naturally to him. Circumstance, however, recently prompted him to reconsider the benefits of staying in one place. His most introspective work to date, Wauters' sixth solo album Wandering Rebel finds the artist taking stock of how he's changed, how the world sees him, and what he wants out of life. Written mostly during an extended break from touring, the songs on Wandering Rebel are candid reflections on subjects like career ("Wandering Rebel"), romantic commitment ("Amor Amor"), mental health ("Nube Negra") and the personal toll of touring ("Let Loose"). On "Modus Operandi," he voices his frustration with New York's fairweather residents, who fled the city at the onset of the COVID-19 lockdown. Vocal contributions from fellow New Yorker Greta Kline (Frankie Cosmos) add to the chorus of playful disapproval. On the singalong-worthy "Millionaire," he turns his eye to the west coast: "It's hard to get around Los Angeles / If you don't have a car / I'm staying in a privileged part of town / It's suspicious for me to be walking." The clarity with which Wauters approaches these subjects lyrically is reflected in the music as well. His trademark eclecticism is still present (fans of Real Life Situations' spirited hip-hop should look to track 6, "Bolero"), but it's more refined this time, anchored in his signature Latin-influenced indie folk. Wandering Rebel is peppered with delicate additions that add depth throughout: rain sounds and hand drums on "Nube Negra," a strings section on "Modus Operandi," a gentle vibraphone on "Amor, Amor." Some of these are classic Wauters touches, but others are owed to outside influences, like production from Brooklyn-based Carlos Hernandez (Ava Luna, Carlos Truly) and Brazilian indie artist Sessa, as well as vocal contributions from Kline, Luz Elena Mendoza (Y La Bamba), Zoe Gotusso, and Super Willy K. Throughout Wandering Rebel, Wauters attempts to reconcile the stability he's come to enjoy with the nomadic restlessness that's characterized his life thus far. In the end, though, it's the interplay of both of these elements that makes the album so strong.

Loosely inspired by the book "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy, ILUITEQ's fourth album, "Reflections From The Road," expands the novel's theme, where human beings are overwhelmed by an ordeal that completely changes the course of their lives.

Events that suddenly interrupt the "ordinary movements" of life in a new, unpredictable, and often dangerous way. A strong sense of motion permeates Reflections From The Road's ten tracks in a new and unexpected way compared to previous works by the Italian ambient duo.

With "Reflections From The Road," ILUITEQ explores new music territories, strongly contrasting pristine textures and glitchy sounds.

Formed in the bygone barren period for British rock music that were the nascent
2010s, The St Pierre Snake Invasion have consistently shown themselves to be
an unapologetically creative force.
The long gap between debut album, A Hundred Years A Day (October 31st 2015)
and the release of underground sophomore smash Caprice Enchanté (June 21st
2019) was something the five- piece were reticent to repeat, but circumstance
beyond the Bristolians' control dictates that third LP, Galore, comes to us in a
markedly different world than the one in which St Pierre were building their
reputation and acclaim.
Sayell himself has been adamant that this latest offering would not be a COVID
album. He did not want it to address the ubiquitous isolation of global lockdown.
It immediately would date the record to a fixed point in time and not allow its
ideas to flourish and find a receptive audience for a continued period. Instead, the
changes represented in Galore are so fundamentally powerful and relatable to the
human condition. It is an album centered around universally resonant themes of
growth.
The summer of 2021 saw the birth of Sayell's first child. The concurrent writing of
the band's third LP has, naturally, been greatly informed by the experience of
impending fatherhood. Wondering about one's own impact on a life that you have
been a part in creating, the anxieties of what will be passed down to another
generation, and reflections on garnered wisdom with age; these are the key
themes that bring us to the band's magnum opus to date.
Alongside these introspective lyrics, the band's sound has taken on new life.
Where Carprice Enchanté was primarily informed by the musicality of Every Time
I Die, The Chariot, Refused and Mclusky, Galore builds on this framework by
incorporating influences as disparate as LCD Soundsystem, Soulwax and
Meshuggah into a coherent and daring whole. A song like That There's Fighting
Talk sees seething aggression taken to a mathcore nightclub, while the title track
and Apex Prey see the band exploring looser, quieter melodicism alongside Sang
Froid's Aisling Whiting, who brings a stake dynamic counterpart to Sayell in a
beautiful and captivating performance.
There are still tracks reminiscent of the band's previous work, such as
Submechano and Sleep Well - the latter featuring a sterling guest appearance
from Sugar Horse's Ashley Tubb - in which we hear the brash punk attitude St
Pierre's ever-growing fanbase adore. But ultimately, from the opening syncopated
notes of Pete Reisner's percussion and Sayell's distinctive vocals on Kracked
Velvet, it's impossible not to hear the palpable shift to another echelon of artis

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Gold Vinyl

Since 2008, "438Hz As It Is, As You Are" is "only" the third solo release from Tomoyoshi Date. The last one dates from 2011. Less is more.
In parallel, from 2013 to 2021, he has recorded some releases in collaborations with Toshimaru Nakamura, Ken Ikeda, Stijn Hüwels, Asuna and Federico Durand.

"This record was recorded on Diapason's upright piano made in the 1950s at the house of his maternal grandmother's sister (*). The piano has moved and tuned many times, and now it has arrived at my living room. It was a pre-mass production piano with a thick board and good sound, but I couldn't tune it without replacing the screws and the weakened base. After consulting with the tuner, I decided to tune the whole tune to the sound of the strings wound around the loosest and most inseparable screws. "As it is"

*Mikiko Yamada: A performer who formed a Japanese music group of contemporary Japanese music in 1964 and made Biwa the first five-line score. She also had a samisen, so I called her "Aunt Pen Pen". Her husband was a shakuhachi player, so she was "Uncle Boo Boo".

When I tuned in the summer, I tried to tune at 442kHz, but I changed the tune in the winter to 438kHz. From now on, the pitch of this piano will decrease year by year as the material ages. I will play the decaying piano and continue to record music that can only be done at that time.

When you drop a needle on a record, a sound is produced on the spot, and the sound constantly changes depending on the air, temperature, and humidity around the needle. The sound also affects all of the listener's life, affecting the frequency of the person's body and mind. The effect of the sound once generated will last forever.

This work was created with the intention of having the listener adjust the pitch at the desired speed according to the mood and frequency of the listener at that time. With a little faster 45 turns, you can listen to this dilapidated piano at 440kHz or 442kHz. You can slow it down, or adjust the number of rotations as you like, whether it is 33 rotations early or late. I really like the stretched sound of the recorded piano. When you want to relax, use slow music to adjust the pitch of the space around you, the creatures, and your own body and mind. "As You Are"

Tomoyoshi Date

Steve Gunn has always had one foot in indie rock and the other in an expansive improvisational scene. His songwriter albums alternate with freewheeling jams, most notably in his Gunn-Truscinski Duo, but are not confined to that. So when Gunn decided to revisit Other You, it made sense that he brought in some guests from the far side of the commercial/experimental spectrum to reimagine his songs. Nakama presents five tracks from that last album, reshaped by artists that Gunn admires. The process loosens the songs up considerably.

To start, he calls in Mdou Moctar’s backing band (the American bassist Mikey Coltun and the other guitarist Ahmoudou Madassane) for “Protection.” The song already had a bit of blues-y swagger to it, with sharper-edged guitar rhythms also heard on the ultra-smooth Other You, but here the heat has an otherworldly desert sheen. Its caravan-traveling rhythm sways from side to side, digging in to to the upbeats in a way that is both kinetic and also hypnotically still. There’s some crowd noise in the background, the knot of people that regularly forms when Mdou and his compatriots plug in from Agadez, and a few mournful afro-blues licks arcing off the vamp. But mostly it’s a cut that reminds you how much African guitar music Gunn has absorbed (listen to “Tommy’s Congo” from Way Out Weather for proof), and how well it fits with what he does.

Gunn also brings in Circuit Des Yeux’s Haley Fohr to reconfigure “Ever Feel That Way,” and she sets the song’s drifting melancholy amid pensive minor-key piano chords. She strips back the ambient whoosh that surrounds the original, slows down the pace and presents the song in startling, unadorned clarity. Her version removes some of the sticky, over-prettiness that I found so distracting in Other You. The melody is better, purer and more focused without the frills. There is also an electronic remake of “Reflection” from David Moore’s ambient ensemble Bing and Ruth, which traps Gunn’s fragile vocals in a shivering palace of synthetic tones. It’s enjoyable in its way, but the two sensibilities never quite meld together.

The best part comes when Gunn joins forces with Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society in remakes of “Good Wind” and “On the Way.” The former is a matter of subtle differences: the gentle pitch and roll under Gunn’s voice, the intermittent liquid runs of bass between widely spaced phrases. Abrams and his crew open up the jazz-leaning, reiterative possibilities under Gunn’s song, but they don’t change it fundamentally. “On the Way” is even stronger, a glowing drone and a pattern of hand drums enveloping the melody. It makes the music seem more spiritual, more resonant, more deep and full of mysteries. It was striking enough that I had to go back to Other You to hear again an album that had left me cold. This new version of “On the Way” didn’t change that chill, but it gave me an idea of how strong the songs might have sounded in another setting. (by Jennifer Kelly)

Sacramento, CA duo Blank Gloss’s third album, Cornered, is an exquisite statement of pop ambient starkness, an album that oscillates between lush beauty and spare melancholy. It follows from their 2021 debut for Kompakt, Melt, an album that saw Morgan Fox (piano, synths) and Patrick Hills (guitar) aligned, loosely, with the cosmic pastorale of the ‘ambient Americana’ movement. Cornered feels like a significant step forward, though – by peeling back the layers of their music, they’ve revealed both its restful core and its solemn gravitas. It is unendingly lovely, but with something disquieting at its centre.

Cornered was recorded quickly, over two days in December 2020. There’s nothing rushed or haphazard about the album, though; everything has its place, with each sonic element contributing profoundly to these nine miniature dioramas. It signals change, quietly but perceptibly, through the way the duo sculpts their material, building out of loose improvisations that morphed into songs. While there was no plan in mind when Blank Gloss settled into the studio, Fox recalls that “right away we realised that things were sounding and feeling a bit different than any of the sessions we had previously.”

That difference can be heard in the increased amount of space Blank Gloss gift to their sound sources. Some of the most moving moments on Cornered come when Fox and Hills strip everything back – see, for example, “Crossing”, which sets pensive piano across a shyly humming drone and quiet arcs of guitar, recalling the driftworks of Roger Eno. Curiously, the album’s distinctive shape and mood develops, at least in part, from a change in instrumentation, with Hills using a MIDI pick-up on his guitar. “This resulted in making things happen a lot quicker,” Fox says. “It also helped create what I think is a bit more sombre, dark feeling to some of the songs.”

Elsewhere, on songs like “Salt”, the piano tussles with flecks of guitar, single tones sent out to mingle with the stars, like Morricone at 16 RPM, while Cornered’s centrepiece, the eleven-minute “No Appetite”, lets long arcs of electronic texture breathe and sigh, tangling together in a cat’s cradle of bliss. Throughout, it feels as though the music is blossoming as you hear it, like watching time-lapse footage of flora in bloom. But perhaps the most seductive thing about Cornered is the sense you get, listening, that the music was something unexpected, a visitation. “It almost felt like we weren’t dictating where the music went and how it sounded,” Fox agrees. “We were just there in a room together in December and these sounds were happening, and we were lucky enough to be recording the process.”

Cornered, das dritte Album des kalifornischen Duos Blank Gloss aus Sacramento, ist ein exquisites Statement von pop ambienter Krassheit, ein Album, das zwischen üppiger Schönheit und sparsamer Melancholie oszilliert. Es folgt ihrem 2021er Debüt für Kompakt, Melt, einem Album, auf dem sich Morgan Fox (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Patrick Hills (Gitarre) locker an der kosmischen Pastorale der „Ambient Americana“-Bewegung ausrichteten. Cornered fühlt sich jedoch wie ein bedeutender Schritt nach vorne an – indem sie die Schichten ihrer Musik abschälen, haben sie sowohl ihren ruhigen Kern als auch ihre feierliche Schwere offenbart. Es ist unendlich schön, aber mit etwas Beunruhigendem in seiner Mitte.

Cornered wurde relativ schnell aufgenommen, über zwei Tage im Dezember 2020. Es klingt jedoch nichts überstürzt oder willkürlich an diesem Album; alles hat seinen Platz, wobei jedes Klangelement einen wesentlichen Beitrag zu diesen neun Miniaturdioramen leistet. Es signalisiert Veränderung, leise, aber wahrnehmbar, durch die Art und Weise, wie das Duo sein Material formt und aus losen Improvisationen aufbaut, die sich in Songs verwandeln. Als Blank Gloss sich im Studio niederließen, gab es zwar keinen Plan, aber Fox erinnert sich: „Uns war sofort klar, dass sich die Dinge etwas anders anhörten und anfühlten als bei allen vorherigen Sessions.“

Dieser Unterschied ist in der größeren Menge an Raum zu hören, die Blank Gloss ihren Klangquellen bietet. Einige der bewegendsten Momente auf Cornered kommen, wenn Fox und Hills alles zurücknehmen – siehe zum Beispiel „Crossing“, wo ein nachdenkliches Klavier über einen schüchtern summenden Drone und leise Gitarrenloops setzt und an die Driftworks von Roger Eno erinnert. Seltsamerweise entwickelt sich die unverwechselbare Form und Stimmung des Albums zumindest teilweise aus einer Änderung der Instrumentierung, bei der Hills einen MIDI-Tonabnehmer an seiner Gitarre verwendet. „Dies führte dazu, dass die Dinge viel schneller abliefen“, sagt Fox. „Es hat auch dazu beigetragen, einigen der Songs ein etwas düstereres, dunkleres Gefühl zu verleihen.“ An anderer Stelle, bei Songs wie „Salt“, spielt das Klavier mit Gitarrenfetzen, einzelne Töne werden ausgesandt, um sich mit den Sternen zu vermischen, wie Morricone bei 16 U/min, während Cornereds Herzstück, das elfminütige „No Appetite“, lange Bögen schlägt, elektronische Texturen atmet und seufzt, um sich in einem Katzenkörbchen der Glückseligkeit zu verheddern. Während des Hörens fühlt es sich an, als ob die Musik blüht, als würde man sich Zeitrafferaufnahmen von blühenden Pflanzen ansehen. Aber das Verführerischste an Cornered ist vielleicht das Gefühl, das man beim Zuhören bekommt, dass die Musik etwas Unerwartetes war, eine Heimsuchung. „Es fühlte sich fast so an, als hätten WIR nicht diktiert, wohin die Musik geht und wie sie klingt“, stimmt Fox zu. „Wir waren just im Dezember zusammen in einem Raum, als diese Geräusche passierten, und wir hatten das Glück, dass die Aufnahme mitlief.”

“This is me at my most imaginative, freakiest, and yet still most grounded and introspective,” says Japanese American rapper/actor Lyrics Born not only about his new album Vision Board, but also his “self” and his existence. “I feel like a new man! I’m healthier physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.” The lead single and video “Diamond Door” is a pop/rap banger that lands you with an infectious barb and keeps you hooked for days, and is a thinly-veiled tribute to a particular style of female appreciation, but it can also be taken as a welcome mat to the new era of Lyrics Born. The accompanying video which shows Lyrics Born in his current physical form - svelte, stylish and with a confident swagger - reinforces this next chapter in his life. 60 pounds lighter, he lost the weight during the pandemic when he knew he needed to make a change. “Touring was becoming harder, and I was having all these weird health problems, but nothing that anybody could put their finger on,” he explains “My anxiety was high. I was not sleeping well. I was on the verge of really bad health.” And this improvement brought more confidence which shows in his new album. Vision Board is a focused affair that found him stretching his creativity farther and challenging himself to write in a way he’s never written before. Recorded primarily in New Orleans and produced by Rob Mercurio of Galactic (who also produced 2015’s Real People and 2018’s Quite a Life), it posited him in a new environment that helped his creative juices flow even more fluidly. “There’s nothing like recording in the Crescent City. It just gets in your blood, and the results are always funky and wild.” “This is about as psychedelic as I’ve ever been,” LB says. “I’m so proud of this album. I’m in a different space. The world is in a different space, and I wanted to celebrate that, loosen up and really create some imagery and share some emotion that I never have. I was listening to a lot of Shuggie Otis; a lot of obscure psychedelic soul and later Temptations,” he explained. “This is like if Alice in Wonderland was Japanese.” Vision Board was also inspired by another Bay Area rap luminary, although one who’s no longer with us - Gift of Gab. The dexterous Blackalicious MC and fellow Quannum Projects alum had a profound effect on Lyrics Born’s life, both creatively and philosophically. “I asked myself on some of these songs: ‘How would Gab approach them?’” he said. “I’d play with certain cadences, certain styles; I tried to stretch stylistically, lyrically and vocally on every single song. None of the patterns are the same.” Lyrics Born’s vulnerability shines through on the nine-track effort, something he’s not ashamed to admit (nor should he be). At one point during the pandemic, he was losing one friend, peer or family member every other week - from Zumbi of Zion I to Gift of Gab to Digital Underground’s Shock G. While many of the songs are deeply introspective, he had to “write some fun shit,” too. Celebratory horns, uptempo rhythms and fiery bars pepper the project from start to finish, and truly encapsulate Lyrics Born’s evolution of not just a groundbreaking Asian-American MC but also a human being. As the only Asian-American MC to release 10 studio albums, the first Asian-American to play major music festivals like Coachella and Lollapalooza and the first Asian-American to release a greatest hits compilation, Lyrics Born has been breaking barriers his entire life - and he’s not going to stop anytime soon. From the bombastic and tribal “I’m the Best Rapper in the World” with its self-winking boastfulness to the playful scat of “Bang Bang Bang” that slinks like an outtake from West Side Story, to the smooth and seductive “Who's The Best? (Dear Young LB)," to the psychedelic and swoony ”Alligator Boots” with it dreamy “Walk on the Wildside”-esque reverby sway, Vision Board sees Lyrics Born tackling different tones, textures and genres without fear and making them completely his own. It's an eclectic body of work that boasts more synths, more psychedelia and is generally more abstract.

Party Dozen is a sonic partnership loosely based on improvisation between saxophonist Kirsty Tickle and percussionist Jonathan Boulet. Their debut album, The Living Man, earned critical acclaim upon release in 2017. They've toured relentlessly ever since - each performance a trial of physicality and an expression of maximalism. Like the legendary Dirty Three, the members seem to meld into one mind, oblivious to the viewer. Tickle effortlessly navigates Boulet's ever-shortening attention span and wild tempo changes; form gradually materializes from chaos.

Planet Mu welcomes back Meemo Comma for her third album 'Loverboy'. 'Loverboy' is a shift in gear from Meemo Comma’s previous works, speeding up the tempos and rhythms, it's set in the nineties with trance, breakbeat hardcore and jungle as some of the influences. After playing a club gig in Spain as lockdown rules were loosening, Rix-Martin was reminded of the power music and people coming together creates. ‘Loverboy’ is peppered with influences from friends past and new as well as artists that have transformed the sound of Meemo Comma over the years, including Autechre, Guy Called Gerald, Orbital and Shitmat as well as others. On this journey we follow ‘Loverboy’ through the club as the night builds and different characters are met, from dropping the first pill to a euphoric ‘Cloudscape’ whilst waiting in the queue, to meeting some shady sorts in ‘Loneheath’. The album changes pace throughout with different rooms of the club being explored which add to the brevity of Rix-Martin’s production style on tracks such as 'Kyle' and 'AK47'. What started as a personal joke about Rix-Martin’s background formed a narrative for some darker, cheeky breaks that echo back on title track ‘Loverboy’, a track that Rix-Martin describes as “working class gender euphoria”.Maybe the mask has come off, and the shackles of pseudo-intellectualism have been put to rest for an honest, fun and ‘propa cheeky’ rave album instead.

2023 Repress On Vertigo Days, the first album in seven years for The Notwist, one of Germany’s most iconic independent groups are alive to the possibilities of the moment. Their music has long been open-minded and exploratory, but from its engrossing structure, through its combination of melancholy pop, clangorous electronics, hypnotic Krautrock and driftwork ballads, to its international musical guests, Vertigo Days is both a new step for The Notwist, and a reminder of just how singular they’ve always been. Most importantly, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck are reaching out: as Markus reflects, “we wanted to question the concept of a band by adding other voices and ideas, other languages, and also question or blur the idea of national identity.”

It’s been seven years since The Notwist’s last album, Close To The Glass, and in that time the various members of the group have been busy with side projects (Spirit Fest, Hochzeitskapelle, Alien Ensemble, Joasihno), guest appearances, a record label (Alien Transistor), movie scoring, helping organise the Minna Miteru compilation of Japanese indie pop & running a festival (Alien Disko). Those divergent paths feed back into Vertigo Days in surprising ways, from its structure, built from group improvisations, with songs flowing and melting into one another in a collective haze, to its spirit, which feels refreshed and alive. There’s something cinematic about Vertigo Days too, reflective of the group’s time working on soundtracks, and reflected in the rich, moody photographic artwork by Lieko Shiga that adorns the cover.

The first sign of this newfound openness was the album’s lead single, “Ship”, where the group were joined by Saya of Japanese pop duo Tenniscoats, her disarmingly hymnal voice sighing over a propulsive, Krautrocking beat. Elsewhere, American multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay sings on “Oh Sweet Fire”, also contributing “a love lyric for these times, imagining two lovers in an uprising hand in hand.” American jazz clarinettist and composer Angel Bat Dawid adds clarinet to the spaced-out dream-pop of “Into The Ice Age”, while Argentinian electronica songwriter Juana Molina gifts some gorgeous singing and electronics to “Al Sur”. Saya also reappears as a member of Japanese brass band Zayaendo, who guest on the album. Throughout, The Notwist also capture the openness of their live performances, too, where they mix and link their songs in unexpected ways.

Indeed, what’s most impressive about Vertigo Days is the way it sits together as one long, flowing suite, the album conceptualised as a whole entity – it’s perfect for the long-distance, dedicated listening experience. This is also captured by the album’s lyrics, which Markus states, “feel more like one long poem.” The dimensions of that poem are multi-faceted, something intensified by the geopolitical weirdness of its times: “As the situation changed so dramatically, while we were working on the record, the theme of ‘the impossible can happen anytime,’ more about personal relationships in the beginning, became a global and political story.” But it also works at a level of poetic abstraction, such that each song gestures in multiple directions – the deeply private pans out to the global. The one certainty is that there is no certainty. “It’s maybe mostly about learning and how you never arrive anywhere,” Markus concurs. To sit within uncertainty is brave, but it’s also where we feel most alive, and Vertigo Days is an album that is brimming with life, with enthusiasm and love for music and for community, all wide-eyed and dreaming.

2023 Repress on Yellow Vinyl

On Vertigo Days, the first album in seven years for The Notwist, one of Germany’s most iconic independent groups are alive to the possibilities of the moment. Their music has long been open-minded and exploratory, but from its engrossing structure, through its combination of melancholy pop, clangorous electronics, hypnotic Krautrock and driftwork ballads, to its international musical guests, Vertigo Days is both a new step for The Notwist, and a reminder of just how singular they’ve always been. Most importantly, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck are reaching out: as Markus reflects, “we wanted to question the concept of a band by adding other voices and ideas, other languages, and also question or blur the idea of national identity.”

It’s been seven years since The Notwist’s last album, Close To The Glass, and in that time the various members of the group have been busy with side projects (Spirit Fest, Hochzeitskapelle, Alien Ensemble, Joasihno), guest appearances, a record label (Alien Transistor), movie scoring, helping organise the Minna Miteru compilation of Japanese indie pop & running a festival (Alien Disko). Those divergent paths feed back into Vertigo Days in surprising ways, from its structure, built from group improvisations, with songs flowing and melting into one another in a collective haze, to its spirit, which feels refreshed and alive. There’s something cinematic about Vertigo Days too, reflective of the group’s time working on soundtracks, and reflected in the rich, moody photographic artwork by Lieko Shiga that adorns the cover.

The first sign of this newfound openness was the album’s lead single, “Ship”, where the group were joined by Saya of Japanese pop duo Tenniscoats, her disarmingly hymnal voice sighing over a propulsive, Krautrocking beat. Elsewhere, American multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay sings on “Oh Sweet Fire”, also contributing “a love lyric for these times, imagining two lovers in an uprising hand in hand.” American jazz clarinettist and composer Angel Bat Dawid adds clarinet to the spaced-out dream-pop of “Into The Ice Age”, while Argentinian electronica songwriter Juana Molina gifts some gorgeous singing and electronics to “Al Sur”. Saya also reappears as a member of Japanese brass band Zayaendo, who guest on the album. Throughout, The Notwist also capture the openness of their live performances, too, where they mix and link their songs in unexpected ways.

Indeed, what’s most impressive about Vertigo Days is the way it sits together as one long, flowing suite, the album conceptualised as a whole entity – it’s perfect for the long-distance, dedicated listening experience. This is also captured by the album’s lyrics, which Markus states, “feel more like one long poem.” The dimensions of that poem are multi-faceted, something intensified by the geopolitical weirdness of its times: “As the situation changed so dramatically, while we were working on the record, the theme of ‘the impossible can happen anytime,’ more about personal relationships in the beginning, became a global and political story.” But it also works at a level of poetic abstraction, such that each song gestures in multiple directions – the deeply private pans out to the global. The one certainty is that there is no certainty. “It’s maybe mostly about learning and how you never arrive anywhere,” Markus concurs. To sit within uncertainty is brave, but it’s also where we feel most alive, and Vertigo Days is an album that is brimming with life, with enthusiasm and love for music and for community, all wide-eyed and dreaming.

The Art and Soul of Network is well and truly captured on this beautiful collection.

Fittingly for a remix selection, Network’s iconic artwork is reconstructed by Trevor Jackson, the designer of those original graphics. He has lovingly reworked the maverick indie house label’s distinctive branding for this 2 x 12 double album selection which rewinds to some of Network’s finest moments.

Network was based in Birmingham but as this release demonstrates had an international outlook and an alchemist touch for joining together disparate talents which lent itself well to the world of remixology.

Dave Lee’s remix,when he was working under his Joey Negro pseudonym, of The Reese Project’s awesome Direct Me is arguably his finest ever work. The original track fused Detroit electronica with the Motor City’s ever present Soul Music stirrings. Dave simply made the superlative perfect . The result was not only an iconic Network release but one of House Music’s greatest recordings.

There was possibly no better example of Network’s deft touch when it came to selecting unlikely combinations of people to work together than Day By Day. . Andrew Pearce, a raw but incredibly gifted 18 years gospel singer, was plucked of the streets of Wolverhampton and promptly despatched to Detroit where producer Kevin Saunderson and songwriter Ann Saunderson gave him the complete Reese Project template on the mesmerising Day By Day. Then Chez Damier & Ron Trent were drafted in to create their Urban Sound Gallery masterpiece of a remix. It truly is a gem.

Ann Saunderson is also central to Surreal’s hypnotic Happiness, not only as songwriter but as the vocalist too. Network then did their “let’s try this” thing by letting loose Italian house godfathers The Fathers Of Sound on the track parts. They threw down and created a progressive (but dreamy) house anthem that is to this day massively in demand.

Slo Moshun’s game changer (House slows down into Hip Hop then ramps up back into House) Bells Of New York was produced by Mark Archer & Danny Taurus.It became huge literally overnight. Various attempts to remix it were tried but in the end it was back to Mark who demonstrated that sometimes the original creator of a track is best able to re-imagine it by coming up with his much loved Beefy Bells remix.

Inner City’s stark and brutal Ahnonghay saw Kevin Saunderson going back to his Detroit Techno roots. Fittingly it was one of the UK’s disciples of that innovative Belleville Three era,Dave Clarke, who supplied the awesome remix contained here.

Rhythmatic’s Mark Gamble created a British Bleep House anthem with the sledgehammer Demonz. The original won the support of John Peel with repeated BBC Radio plays underlining incessant club plays. Again it’s the original artist who does that remix thing best with Mark’s Sequel mix managing to improv his classic original.

Neal Howard’s Indulge was the debut Network release. His music sounded like it was from another planet and he was hailed as Chicago’s answer to Detroit genius Derrick May..Here we present Derrick’s Mayday remix of To Be Or Not To Be which was the flip to Indulge. This was Network’s debut release, and it is hard to imagine a label having a more euphoric greeting card.

The album concludes with a remix of a track recorded at a live concert in 1989.. To be clear THE TRACK that defined that year’s Acid House cultural revolution. Derrick May brought along Carl Craig to perform with him as Rhythim Is Rhyhim when invited to support Inner City at London’s Town And Country Club . Luckily Kool Kat - the predecessor to Network - recorded for posterity an historic rendition of Strings Of Life. Roll on a few years and Network went into the vaults and asked Ashley Beedle to work on the tape. He completely remoulded it and conjured up a new incarnation of Strings Of Life.

Network - we coninue…

Limited Cerulean Blue Vinyl LP. RIYL: Amen Dunes, Adrienne Lenker & North Americans. Numün, the NYC psychedelic instrumental trio Pitchfork dubbed as 'savvy navigators of paths less traveled', is releasing its second album Book of Beyond on the legendary Shimmy Disc label. With this record, the band, which includes Joel Mellin and Christopher Romero of Gamelan Dharma Swara and ambient country pioneer Bob Holmes of SUSS, continues to stretch their exploration of the inner and outer astral worlds of their first release Voyage au Soleil – voted one of the Best Ambient Releases of 2020. Dave Segal of Pitchfork called that album a "blending of the opiated psychedelia of the music territory staked Brightback Morning Light with a loose-limbed minimalism that privileges subtle effects and incremental chord changes" and Chris Ingalis from PopMatters called it "a trippy, ambient ride and ambitious debut that pulls off the neat trick of creating music that evokes space travel while also sounding refreshingly grounded to Earth's atmosphere." The new album, mastered by Kramer (Galaxie 500, Butthole Surfers, Bongwater, Low, Bill Frisell, etc.) features a unique mixture of Eastern and Western musical stylings and instrumentation including Balinese gamelan, gender wayang, and cumbuz (a 12-string fretless banjo) alongside the classic Americana instrumentation of slide guitar, baritone, mandolin and violin. The instrumental music charts new territories as it explores themes that are sometimes deeply personal, spiritual and otherworldly, including new fatherhood, sleep deprivation, loss and rebirth with titles that include Steps, Vespers, Eyes Open & Lullaby. Guests on the album include Trina Basu (Brooklyn Raga Massive), Tori Lo Mellin (Dharma Swara), and Willa Roberts (Black Sea Hotel). With their new album, Book of Beyond, Numün creates music that provides a star map to help us all navigate the inner constellations of our daily lives.

Faitiche presents Groupshow’s Greatest Hits: The ten tracks on this first vinyl album by Groupshow (Hanno Leichtmann, Andrew Pekler, Jan Jelinek), recorded between 2005 and 2018, document concert recordings and studio improvisations by the trio.

In improvisation there are no mistakes, only missed opportunities. Groupshow found their first opportunity in the routines of live performance and they used this opportunity to break with these routines. The trio consisting of Jan Jelinek, Hanno Leichtmann and Andrew Pekler came together in the context of Kosmischer Pitch, playing live versions of the music from Jelinek’s 2005 studio album of that name. During this project, the musical interaction between the three participants quickly emancipated itself from the original programme, departing from fixed roles and finding a distinct form in constant change.

Groupshow sessions – rehearsal, concert or recording – are always improvised. The interplay of the various sound sources, converging from the directions of “electronics”, “percussion” and “guitar”, does not follow the Krautrock wave logic of crescendo and morendo. Jelinek, Leichtmann and Pekler have established a method of transparent density in which links and breaks are not concealed but remain audible. The music works through attraction and repulsion, with a loosely organized structure that always leaves enough room for the next intervention.

The principle here, repeated even in the smallest units, is that of duration. Groupshow think of their music in terms of an installation: no starting point, no dramaturgy, and ideally no end. Concerts take place not raised up on a podium, but in the middle of the room on a level with the audience, who only enter the space with the musicians and instruments once their interaction is already underway. In 2008, Groupshow used this approach to create a live soundtrack for Andy Warhol’s film Empire, over the full length of eight hours and five minutes.

Recordings in general and the “Greatest Hits” format in particular are another key aspect of this ongoing work on a collectively modulated continuum. The ten tracks on this first vinyl album by Groupshow, recorded between 2005 and 2018, document the ephemeral capturing of opportunities that were not missed. Extracts and essences of an endless movement of searching. The sprawling form of the whole, suspended in succinct, separate units.
To paraphrase Lao Tzu and Roland Barthes, one might say: Once their work is done, they are no longer attached to it. And because they’re not attached to it, it will remain.

Arno Raffeiner, 2022

Baroness will release their eagerly-awaited new album ‘Gold & Grey’ on June 14th via Abraxan Hymns.



“Our goal is, was, and will always be to write increasingly superior, more honest and compelling songs, and to develop a more unique and challenging sound,” offers Baroness founder, guitar player and vocalist John Baizley. “I’m sure we have just finished our best, most adventurous album to date. We dug incredibly deep, challenged ourselves and recorded a record I’m positive we could never again replicate.



I consider myself incredibly fortunate to know Sebastian, Nick and Gina as both my bandmates and my friends. They have pushed me to become a better songwriter, musician and vocalist. We’re all extremely excited for this release, which includes quite a few ‘firsts’ for the band, and we’re thrilled to be back on tour to play these psychotic songs for our fans. Expect some surprises.”



While ‘Gold & Grey’ found the band once again working with Purple producer Dave Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, Mogwai), sequestering themselves at Fridmann’s remote upstate New York Tarbox Road Studio. The 17-track album ushered in two significant changes: a decidedly different recording process and guitar player Gina Gleason’s debut on a Baroness recording.



The band, who tracked portions of the vocals, guitars and overdubs in Baizley’s home-basement studio, another first for them, eschewed their normal routine of entering the studio with meticulously detailed plans and instead opted for a looser, more improvisational approach that resulted in their most collaborative and emotionally evocative release to date.



Featuring John Baizley (vocals/guitar), Gina Gleason (guitar), Nick Jost (bass) and Sebastian Thomson (drums), Baroness received a GRAMMY Award nomination for Best Metal Performance for ‘Shock Me’ from the 2015 album ‘Purple’.

Special 10th Anniversary Edition In Brown Card Artboard Sleeve With Additional Lyric Print Insert

Slowdive singer and songwriter’s third solo album, which was originally released in November 2012. It is a stunning record and one which, upon its release, underlined the claims that Neil was one of the finest and most underrated British songwriters of recent times. It’s also a very special release in the Sonic Cathedral catalogue; the shoegaze label licensed the record from Jack Johnson’s Brushfire imprint for the UK and Europe and it was the start of a relationship that also gave us the Black Hearted Brother album in 2013 and, ultimately, brought about the reformation of Slowdive in 2014. But Palindrome Hunches is a very different beast. Both stately and understated, this moody and mesmerising collection of peculiarly British folk songs was made with the Band of Hope, a Wallingford, Oxfordshire based collective consisting of Ben Smith (violin), Drew Milloy (double bass), Paul Whitty (piano) and Tom Crook (guitar). Together with producer Nick Holton, banjo player Kevin Wells and backing singer Aimee Craddock, they recorded the album to tape over a few weekends in the music room of their local junior school. “At first we were going to record in a studio, but everything seemed too clean,” said Neil at the time. “We just went through the songs and recorded them live without very much rehearsal. We wanted to be spontaneous and simple and to keep the little mistakes that sneaked in.” This goes a long way to explaining the album’s humanity and intimacy, and also why it has had a quiet life of its own over the past decade, gradually growing in stature alongside Neil’s more high-profile activities with Slowdive; copies of the 2012 original and even the 2017 repress currently fetch up to triple figures on Discogs. The stunning opener ‘Digging Shelters’ was used to devastating effect in the posthumously released James Gandolfini movie Enough Said – a fitting home for a song that rubs shoulders here with ruminations about love and loss such as ‘Tied To You’ and ‘Spin The Bottle’ and, on ‘Wittgenstein’s Arm’, an Austrian pianist who had his right arm amputated in World War I and lost three of his brothers to suicide. The wordplay of the title track is almost light-hearted in comparison; “I wanted to write a song that was the same forwards and backwards, but it didn’t quite work out,” explained Neil, adding that he also chose ‘Palindrome Hunches’ for the album’s title because “I like the idea of things being reversible”. A couple years later, by reforming his old band, he proved that. And now, ten years on, it’s the perfect time to rewind to this understated, underrated classic. Side A 1 Digging Shelters 2 Bad Drugs and Minor Chords 3 Wittgenstein’s Arm 4 Spin The Bottle 5 Tied to You Side B 1 Love Is a Beast 2 Palindrome Hunches 3 Full Moon Rising 4 Sandy 5 Hey Daydreamer 6 Loose Change. Praise for Palindrome Hunches on its original release: ““Nope, it ain’t shoegaze as it's been codified and re-codified. But why be disappointed in someone following his muse to a logical conclusion when that path was always the one he walked on?” – Pitchfork An exquisite set of dark folk music” – The Times “Draws from the same understated, reflective well as John Martyn” – MOJO “‘Tied To You’ doesn’t merely evoke Nick Drake but withstands the comparison – evidence of the songs’ quality” – Financial Times “Halstead’s songs breathe the sort of honesty and goodness that’s harder and harder to find in the iTunes age” – The Independent “Given the chance, they could be songs that continue to enchant for many years to come” – The Line Of Best Fit

We have a very special new artist for you from Berlin. Dutch native Pete Bandit relocated to Berlin some years ago where we first met in 2018 when he was part of the “Times Are Ruff” collective. They contributed a track on Dirt Crew for our “Deep Love 2018” compilation.
Now recently going solo he developed his sound even more towards Detroit-ish house with dabs of techno and a bit of high tech jazz in there as well. This debut EP offers Loads of deep soulful grooves, spiritual “computer” music at it’s best!

The A-side “Wild Feelings” is such a beautiful opener to this record, with it’s lush spread out intro it paves the way with that perfect mood for what is to come, a mix of soul, funk and electronics and overall well crafted deepness. The keys on this one were contributed by the mysterious “Nelson of the East” topped with vocals by Pete himself. “It’s Happening Again” continues the story with soulful deep house textures and this one especially reminds us a lot of those early 90s Chicago/ New York House gems, the track is building towards a great breakdown key change and with its atmospheric strings and pads it’s a truly uplifting “Good Times” tune.

On the flip we have “Computer’s Creativity”. This track picks up the pace and is centered around a funky, almost slap like, bass line. Here again topped by a vocal add of Pete about “Computer’s Creativity” and with it’s cool break this one will also be a sure floor filler, guaranteed! The closing track on this record is the driving “Luv Your Body”, great percussion guides us through a loose set arrangement and make this one a perfect late hours or early mornings tune in any mix, it could go on forever!


All tracks have been mixed by Ariel Schlichter in Berlin and mastered by Salz Mastering in Cologne. Photography & Art by Break 3000.

For most of us, life is a series of human interactions; some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. But what would life be without those peripheral characters who plant themselves into our worlds through the sheer force of their presence? Whether we speak to them or not, those vibrant contrasts to the everyday tide of ordinary people are a magical part of the human experience. Oddballs and misfits, flamboyant instigators or low-key game changers, we all clock them on our own hectic journeys, and they make the day a little brighter. Everyone has their favourite people.

Following the runaway success of their first one-shot single in 2020, Favourite People reconvene for a full-length of blues-tinged cuts stemming from sessions at Selva Studios in Brooklyn. The project’s roots predate the studio, from scattered jams and sweaty nights in New York nightspots to impromptu recordings on cruise ships, but the flashpoint of inspiration that truly set the album in motion was the arrival of a blonde 1960s Fender Telecaster. From there, the motley crew of sharp-shooting string slingers and sticks men set about crafting paeans to those striking souls who make the world a more colourful place.

The emphasis here is on the kind of forward-facing, electrically charged mix you felt (whether you realised it or not) hearing early Sabbath or Priest for the first time. With their undeniable bias towards vintage soul, Favourite People are far from heavy metal, but the same lineage of blues and by extension jazz informs the music, while the tonal crunch of that 70s era guides the sound. Feasting on tasteful overdrive and leaning on the unmistakable flavour of tape for much of the recording, the deal was sealed on this purposeful exercise in vibe thanks to the near-mythical texture of Guy Davie’s EMI Nigeria console at Electric Mastering.

Across the album there are mellow shades and bursts of good-time get-down exuberance, but the lead singles capture the essence of the band in no uncertain terms.

‘Promise Of Nibbles’ brings the Favourite People MO into sharp relief with a low-slung, hard swinging blues confection full of overheating organ and duelling guitars in pursuit of Southern-stewed boogie (im)perfection.

‘We’ll Be Late To The Party’ turns up the tempo and dials in the fuzz, striking an anthemic note which lands somewhere between urgent highway escapism and euphoric communal revelation.

‘Mass and Mustiness’ leans in on the funk dimension of the group’s sound with the sweetest licks and chops on that fabled telecaster backed up by an acutely angled beat and the slinkiest of b-lines.

These are but three of the vibrant vignettes laid down by this quietly unassuming collective of heads down jammers, loose groovers and vintage sound freaks –heavy grooving instrumentals pulled from their own moments of pure musical magic and captured on disc for your listening, dancing, living, loving pleasure.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

South-east Turkey born DJ, sound artist and producer Banu uses music as a political tool. For her, the strong message carried through sound is a vehicle to express emotions as well as a means of fighting against oppression. Using participation, social design, ecology, feminist and queer theory to create multimedia installations with sound as a main element, Banu‘s practice is closer to contemporary art and activist spaces than the club realm.

Banu‘s debut album TransSoundScapes is an exercise in female solidarity between her as a migrant woman and her sisters from the trans community, where an artist from one marginalised group is showing support towards her trans sisters, using her platform to help them amplify their voices and building a bridge towards a mutual understanding of femininity.

Conceptually, TransSoundScapes comes in continuation of Banu‘s previous research-based work, using music as a positive tool for change while working with various marginalised communities. The album originated from the very real experience of being confronted with verbal harassment in Berlin on a daily basis, particularly aimed at her transfeminine friends and companions. As a queer woman of Turkish and Kurdish origin, Banu did not only observe the verbal aggression directed at her friends, but also understood most of the insults shouted in languages such as Arabic. Seeing how she got signifi cantly more verbal violence directed at them when in company of trans people made a lasting impression on her, so she wanted to try and use her relative privilege to amplify transfeminine voices through her music.

Coming from a very conservative family, making music has been her lifelong dream. It was the moment she had the opportunity to work with the iconic Arp 2600 synthesiser (a younger sibling to Eliane Radigue‘s infamous 2500 machine) that all her disparate interests came into place to create an empowering soundscape with the aid of analogue drum machines. TransSoundScapes has a very full, porous sound, where every element that comes into play sounds soft yet clear. Across the 7 tracks, Banu conjures pounding subterraneous bassy techno („Surgery“), slithering tentacular EBM („First Time“) and pulsating cavernous soundscapes („Harem“), where oversized dancefl oor elements are woven with poetic spoken word passages, resulting in sensusous yet political anthems. Banu artfully merges loosely related genres such as techno, electro, dub and sound poems into a sound that is at once deeply personal and extremely compelling.

All of the tracks are collaborative efforts, Banu seeing the process as an exchange of care and shared experiences, while integrating research into her writing process. The lyrics in „Transition (part 1+2)‘‘ are an adaptation of Sara Ahmed’s “Living a Feminist Life”, while „Surgery“ was born out of series of interviews with trans people, channeling the metallic sounds of a surgery room to refer to society‘s perception of transness as a medical condition. Tracks like „First Time feat. Patricia“, „Harem feat. Prince Emrah“ or „We feat. Aérea Negrot“ document her encounters with various trans women, centering their life experiences while also developing a deep dialogue through the process of making music together.

The darkest and perhaps the most emblematic track is ‚‘Bianka (In Memory Of)‘‘, dedicated to the late Bianka Shigurova, a 22-year old Georgian actress found dead in her apartment. It was her Tbilisi photographer friend George Nebriedze who told her Bianka‘s tragic story, whose death is suspected to be an assasination due to transphobia. Banu chose one of Nebriedze‘s analogue photos of Bianka as the album‘s cover art.

New studio album from CMA, due out October 7th, 2022. Produced by Sam Evian. Following Old Flowers' 2020 Grammy nomination, and due to Covid restrictions, Courtney, for the first time in her young nomadic life, was forced off the road and to remain at home. What resulted was the publishing of her first book of poetry, the first gallery showings of her paintings, and a period of self-discovery leading to the new album, Loose Future. Whereas Old Flowers was a beautiful and emotional break-up record, CMA's return with Loose Future is a bright, dynamic, falling-in-love record. Courtney's got a new story to tell, backed by a strong new musical direction, and a show-stopping collection of songs. Loose Future was recorded at Sam Owen's upstate New York Flying Cloud Studios, with musicians Josh Kaufman (Bonny Lighthorseman), Chris Bear (Grizzly Bear), and Sam Owens (Sam Evian). On the honey shores of Cape Cod in a beach shack, Courtney Marie Andrews found self-love and her voice. Every morning, she’d walk 6-8 miles around the back trails of an island and meditate on her life, perusing old memories and patterns like browsing a used bookshop. After more than a decade on the road, the Phoenix-born songwriter, poet, and painter finally had the space to process all the highs and lows of a life of constants. She was finally ready to make a record of triumph, while not completely forgetting the years that made her. That record is the Sam Evian produced Loose Future.

For most of us, life is a series of human interactions; some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. But what would life be without those peripheral characters who plant themselves into our worlds through the sheer force of their presence? Whether we speak to them or not, those vibrant contrasts to the everyday tide of ordinary people are a magical part of the human experience. Oddballs and misfits, flamboyant instigators or low-key game changers, we all clock them on our own hectic journeys, and they make the day a little brighter. Everyone has their favourite people.

Following the runaway success of their first one-shot single in 2020, Favourite People reconvene for a full-length of blues-tinged cuts stemming from sessions at Selva Studios in Brooklyn. The project’s roots predate the studio, from scattered jams and sweaty nights in New York nightspots to impromptu recordings on cruise ships, but the flashpoint of inspiration that truly set the album in motion was the arrival of a blonde 1960s Fender Telecaster. From there, the motley crew of sharp-shooting string slingers and sticks men set about crafting paeans to those striking souls who make the world a more colourful place.

The emphasis here is on the kind of forward-facing, electrically charged mix you felt (whether you realised it or not) hearing early Sabbath or Priest for the first time. With their undeniable bias towards vintage soul, Favourite People are far from heavy metal, but the same lineage of blues and by extension jazz informs the music, while the tonal crunch of that 70s era guides the sound. Feasting on tasteful overdrive and leaning on the unmistakable flavour of tape for much of the recording, the deal was sealed on this purposeful exercise in vibe thanks to the near-mythical texture of Guy Davie’s EMI Nigeria console at Electric Mastering.

Across the album there are mellow shades and bursts of good-time get-down exuberance, but the lead singles capture the essence of the band in no uncertain terms.

‘Promise Of Nibbles’ brings the Favourite People MO into sharp relief with a low-slung, hard swinging blues confection full of overheating organ and duelling guitars in pursuit of Southern-stewed boogie (im)perfection.

‘We’ll Be Late To The Party’ turns up the tempo and dials in the fuzz, striking an anthemic note which lands somewhere between urgent highway escapism and euphoric communal revelation.

‘Mass and Mustiness’ leans in on the funk dimension of the group’s sound with the sweetest licks and chops on that fabled telecaster backed up by an acutely angled beat and the slinkiest of b-lines.

These are but three of the vibrant vignettes laid down by this quietly unassuming collective of heads down jammers, loose groovers and vintage sound freaks –heavy grooving instrumentals pulled from their own moments of pure musical magic and captured on disc for your listening, dancing, living, loving pleasure.