Buscar:low order

Soliton maximizes the compact format by further illuminating lesser-traveled paths. Contemplation and exploration weave harmoniously through five mysterious tracks. Influenced by a wide range of styles and sounds, such as Japanese ambient, the muted dissonance of Pharoah Sanders, and the chilly dub of the Scape catalog, Soliton evokes visions of lonely night drives punctuated by bright moments of bliss. The Calque EP from January 2023 saw them pursuing the minimal electronic side of their work even further. The opening track, "Kottbusser Tor,” showcases a conspicuous absence of the processed guitars that characterize most of their work, and instead explores sequenced filters, tape delays and analog synth patterns for eight minutes. On "Ammosel", they dive directly into dubby soundscapes, with crackling electronics and deep basslines, while "Kiyosumi" and "Fade Into Air" pay a visit to more familiar ambient territory. A darker undercurrent pervades on this EP, but one that goes particularly well with the coldest of seasons and its frosty air. The duo, consisting of Jason Kolb (Michigan, US) and Jonas Munk (Denmark) started working together in 2006, sending each other tracks across the Atlantic, eventually resulting in a full-length release on Felte in 2012. What started out as a side project to their respective main projects (Auburn Lull and Manual) have slowly become the main activity for both artists, now with a total of four full-lengths under their belt. Their music has also evolved and matured over the years, reaching a level of perfection that’s only granted producers who've been in the game for decades. Billow Observatory have by now established themselves as purveyors of highly refined ambient music and the Soliton EP sees them elegantly blend new and old, electronic and organic, into a gently drifting, enveloping whole. “.. mind drenching sunrises, glittering constellations, and sailing clouds, richly furnishing the familiar sense of hovering over vast natural orders that you're also inside. – Pitchfork // “So the world it inhabits is essentially that one between states, simulating a quietly vibrant ecology of sub-aquatic bass rumbles, washed out expanses of mid-range swirl and keening top end whose elusive colours seem to fade and coruscate in the low light. Lovely

The entity known as ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES, would like to express its excitement to be working with the Seattle, WA based BAND Sandrider, and enjoyed the previous relationship of Damm and Weisnewski in their former entity known as AKIMBO. ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES is very much a fan of previous work from the BAND on Satanik Royalty Records and highly recommend new listeners investigate the discography further. The upcoming 2-song single by BAND, hereafter referred to as AVIARY/BALEEN has a limited-edition initial pressing on blue and white splatter vinyl pressing of 300 copies, and successive runs will not be as colorful. Immediate orders are encouraged. This cheeky duality of Sandrider is also captured perfectly in the subject matter of the EP’s two tracks: The explosive first track, “Aviary,” portrays the modern hellscape of social media as sinister, soulless mama bird, willfully vomiting disinformation into the eager mouths of enthusiastically consenting participants. “PLEASE MOTHER, FEED THEM YOUR BILE. DOUSE THE BABES WITH YOUR WHOLESOME RETCH,” vocalist/guitarist Jon Weisnewski wails over massive, frenetic riffs, rounded out by bassist Jesse Roberts’ warm low end and drummer Nat Damm’s ultra-hard, punch-like beats. The song concludes in a frenzy of danceable beats, with Weisnewski doing his best Painkiller-era Halford screams as he commands you to flood the whole damn thing – drown those who wish to destroy us. As pissed off as the song is, you’ll feel triumphant by the end anyway. Side B’s “Baleen” on the other hand (while ironically the angrier-sounding song of the two), is about a lighter thought that keeps Weisnewski up at night: Do you ever think about how fucking weird whales are? They’re enormous floating creatures that can't handle gravity, and they hang out in the deepest oceans. Yet they can’t breathe underwater, so they have to stay near the top and come up for air all the time. Seems inconvenient. And you’d think that the biggest mammal that ever lived would be a brutal carnivore, right? But no. They eat the tiniest creatures, through a bunch of hair in their mouths. What the fuck? Anyway, ponder on that while you bang your head along with Sandrider’s signature primal, hypnotizingly heavy riffs.

With Scream If You Don’t Exist, Richie Culver metamorphoses from outsider musician to underground fixture, feeling his way from the fringes towards a growing community of musicians that have gravitated towards his singular sound world. Building upon the stark catharsis of his previous dispatches, on his sophomore album the artist draws from grimdark drone, industrial noise, experimental hip-hop and UK rave to map out a space for himself, caught between genre and discipline. While on his debut, I Was Born By The Sea, Culver took a last glimpse back at his grey, salt-flecked past while struggling towards somewhere brighter, here, he documents the process of finding fresh waters, parsing through the complexity of inhabiting a more open and optimistic place while contending with the weight of his resolve, staring hard won self-acceptance in the face. The album’s title speaks to this creative and emotional work, serving both as the foundational paradox from which the artist’s new discordant sound emerges and as a call to action, a defiant cry in the face of existential angst.

Part of this process involves visiting familiar territory with renewed focus. Macabre opener ‘Hottest Day Of The Year’ signals an unpleasant memory with crow caw, queasy, gas leak ambience and dental drill whir as Culver recalls a life lived in nihilism: “Everything is just something that happened / Reductionism, muscles spasms, a mother’s first contraction.” Yet, on Scream If You Don’t Exist, Culver’s irresistible formula for ragged machine poetry is shot through with palpable urgency. No longer listless and despairing, he finds new intricacies for these compositions, tracing a stark interplay between crushing bass excavations and penetrating vocal clarity, a contrast picked out in the delicate threads of rhythmic pulse suggesting themselves in the blunt pressure and skittering creep of ‘Weakness’, on which Culver offers up vulnerability as a tentative solution to self-described emotional constipation: “Please do / Do take my kindness for weakness / For I am weak / And that is ok.” The amniotic soundscape of ‘YOLO (then u die)’ gives way to depth charge drone and unnerving machinic improvisations, like a noise show heard from deep in the Mariana trench, while on ‘Underground Flower’ the low-end fog lifts to reveal a brighter, colder scene. “Love me for who I could be / Not who I am,” he pleads, tending gently to his own tenacious bud.

Scream If You Don’t Exist gives us a glimpse of this flower in bloom. On the album’s cursed self-help tape title track stuttering loops of off-kilter keys and childlike repetition make light of the very real risk of disappearing all-together, a nervous breakdown rendered as a malfunctioning nursery rhyme. Paranoiac anthem ‘Say 4 Sure’ introduces bit-crushed boom-bap stomp, as though hammered out on a water-logged Game Boy, swarms of loose-wire noise sparking up against guttural grunts and ragged exhalations, while ‘On The Top’ enacts a seance for the hardcore spirit, with loops of rave piano and hiccuping vocal chops pirouetting through knackered samples, air raid sirens and the ghostly crash of breakbeat cymbals. As though in response to the solitary nature of much of his musical exploration, this time, the artist invites other voices into the world of Scream If You Don’t Exist. On ‘Swollen’, the unflinching, brimstone prophecy of Billy Woods sounds clear through an expanse of spirallic bass, preaching the same frayed gospel as Culver when he issues the quietly devastating contemporary diagnosis: “Computer broke but it still works for now / That’s the best you can say for most of us anyhow,” while another fearless correspondent from the fringes, Moor Mother, brings earthbound heft to the ambient drift and obliterating barrage of ‘Restaurants,’ teasing out meaning with elongated intonation and pitch-shifted intensity.

It’s during the album’s most meditative moments that we might recognise this space Culver has found for himself for what it really is. ‘OMG They’re Gone’ follows a chopped and slowed monologue from Culver’s wife, who works as a death doula, reflecting on her own experiences with grief and the reality of living within a culture both terrified and ignorant of the process. Floating over glistening ebb, etherised croons and luminous chimes, her words stand as a prescient reminder of the power of ephemerality. Just as Culver flourishes in imperfection, here we can find enormous strength in transcience. But it’s with ‘Just Jump In,’ which unfurls like a buoyant counterpart to the sparkling oil rigs of ‘I was born by the sea’, that Culver illuminates the hopeful waters we realise we’ve been making our steady way towards. “I know now / That you loved me,” he admits, a revelation a lifetime in the making. Through the rawest reflection Culver has found a way forward, driven by an optimism drawn from a resolve to be better, to love and be loved, an admission to weakness and the discovery of a new kind of strength. “Don’t test the water,” he reassures us and himself, “just jump in.”

Scream If You Don’t Exist will be released in November 2023 by Participant, on limited edition vinyl, and digital download . The release will be accompanied by a series of films directed by Mau Morgo, Josiane M.H Pozi, William Markarian-Martin, Simon Bus, and Bruxism.

Reissue number seven for Heels & Souls Recordings sees them look back to the sounds of South Africa’s townships in 1991, cherry picking four of Tashif Kente’s finest cuts from his sought after album A Boy And A Dream, giving them space to breathe on a 12" pressing.

Clearly influenced by the flavours bubbling over from the UK and US in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, from R&B through to boogie, proto house to new jack swing, Tashif’s productions are a melting pot of ideas and influences, laced with a distinctive South African flavour.

Born in Soweto, Mzwandile ‘Tashif’ Kente, cut his teeth with Harari for a brief period, a group that birthed greats like Condry Ziqubu, Sipho Mabuse and Alec Khaoli, before going solo in 1984 and releasing just one album as Tashif Kente, 1991’s ‘A Boy And A Dream’. An album that speaks of love, lust and longing, produced by Kente and Selwyn Shandel with Marc Rantseli also joining the fold, it has that signature South African synth bass, drum machine and killer keyboard combo of the Bubblegum and Kwaito scenes, topped with Kente’s buttery vocals.

Heels & Souls Recordings take four favourites from the LP and press them loud on either side of a 12”. On the A, the audacious new jack, dancefloor bubbler ‘Tell Him I Became Your Lover’ leads into the lovestruck, boogie-tinged grooves of ‘Somebody’s Got My Love’. Flip it over to find a jealousy jam of the highest order with the synthy soul number ‘Who’s That Boy’, before ‘I Like The Way You Love Me’, a lights down low, R&B flavoured lovesong rounds off the EP.

Licensed from Gallo, who transferred the original ¼ inch tapes for their archives, Heels & Souls have enlisted the expertise of Justin Drake to remaster these South African beauties for a new generation of listeners.

There's no denying Marcel Fengler's profound impact on the ever-changing techno landscape. A pioneer in his own right, Fengler's works have flooded dancefloors and set lists worldwide for decades, and that shows no sign of changing anytime soon. His latest work is an all-encompassing four-track EP titled "Unleashed", including a remix from sought-after Stuttgart duo SHDW & Obscure Shape.

Kicking off with the title track, "Unleashed" introduces the EP with high-octane rhythms, pulsating low frequency sonics and rave like harmonic layers. An unrelenting onslaught of fast paced thumping techno, built around long, sweeping notes, vocal injections and a piston-like bassline, this one was made for the height of the party. "Caution" is next to feature, presenting itself as a robust industrial number with harsh percussive drive and endless layers of cadence throughout the mix. Weighty yet groovy in a unique up-tempo way, its robotic vocal splashes make the perfect accomplice for its potent warehouse vibes.

"Cypher" pulls you into the second half of the EP with rattling rhythms and more gritty sweeping musicality. Exhibiting the depth in his production skills, Fengler loads up the mix with a kaleidoscope of percussive elements alongside thumping kicks, surging synths, and another haunting robotic vox before SHDW & Obscure Shape get their teeth into a signature remix. Taking it deeper and darker, the duo's emphasis on subtle progressions and increasing intensity throughout the mix with offbeat trickery and creative unpredictability make their remix of "Cypher" a certified peak-time bomb.

"It has been quite a journey with this EP, as I've been exceptionally discerning about the sound and the entire production process. My goal was to create a release tailored for the dance floor, with the right amount of energy for peak-time moments, while also ensuring a profound and well-structured sonic experience. After testing potential tracks in my DJ sets, I distilled what I believe captures the essence I want to share with the audience. Furthermore, I'm thrilled to have SHDW & Obscure Shape on board for a formidable remix. Their work carries echoes of the raw and forceful sonic textures from earlier times, which I hold in high regard. I'm genuinely delighted with how everything has come together, and I hope you enjoy it!" - Marcel Fengler
Order IMF012 now

Just what the doctor ordered...

Next up on Q1E2 Recordings - for the label's fifth release so far - is Dr Sud. He's a Rome-born, Berlin-raised producer whose music is a fusion of percussion-centric soundscapes and integrated jazz-leaning harmonies, drawing inspiration from diverse genres like electronica, funk, and house.

On 'Heading South', the broken beat don serves up his specialist percussive sound, folding all manner of drums into synth-smothered house. The EP explores the undulating cycle of morning into night, back into morning, inviting you to dance your way through it all.

'Brina', a word which in Italian refers to morning dew - perhaps found on a tent on the morning of a festival - represents the breaking of dawn with broken beats. The track breaks and squints into the start of the day with spacious kick drums leaving room for warm, almost familiar pads and keys.

Then, 'Life Itself' reflects daytime, revolving around an arpeggiating synth that soon makes way for luscious keys.

An excursion into percussive bliss concludes side A in the form of the magical, grin-inducing 'Evening Breath'. This, as you might have guessed, is where the listener cruises through smoothly into the final stages of the day. It encapsulates that last burst of light as the sun sets and a slight shiver of the evening air slivers up your spine.

Then, before you know it, the mysterious night arrives. Flip to that B side, and 'Tramontana' will greet you, inviting you to dance deep into the late hours.

When you're there, the chugging '3/4AM' will hit the spot like an unforgettable dance floor moment, bursting with low and slow Balearic tendencies.

Finally, 'Mondgesicht' - "Moonface" in German -fittingly concludes proceedings with deep lounge vibes. Mumbles of effortless trumpet manoeuvre through a swaying sea of percussion and delicious, wavering synth solo. The day is here again. The cycle is complete.

This is some seriously high-quality music on show here from Dr Sud. The EP is out on Q1E2 Recordings in October.

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

The life-affirming energy at the heart of Sven Väth‘s recent album Catharsis is revisited, reanimated, and remixed by some of the most exciting names around, closing the circle on a superlative burst of
recent work that has not only given us the epic original LP, but also the extraordinary compilation What I Used To Play.

Roman Flügel, Benjamin Damage, Robert Hood, Planetary Assault Systems, Mano Le Tough… do we need to go on? This hand-picked list of luminaries have answered the call and certainly don’t disappoint, each fusing their signature sound with Sven‘s DNA to create a wild, uncompromising companion piece to the original album.

True to form, the running order is very much rooted on the dance floor, Silvi‘s Dream, revisited by Damiano von Erckert, explodes like a Balearic sunrise. Dreamy strings with a touch of Detroit create a lovely atmosphere while the beautiful piano sound goes right into your heart and appears as if you could feel the warm sun on your skin. Roman Flügel’s acidic rework of What I Used To Play is a homage to the 80s and the early sound of electronic music which creates nostalgic feelings and offers a greatly produced retro soundscape à la Kraftwerk. Staying close to the original, but with the perfect amount of spin, it’s a symbiotic interplay of synthetic bass pads, and a tiny bell melody. Robag Wruhme’s cranking minimal funk takes us down The Worm-hole. A concise interference sound builds
up sustained tension, tangled but structured, deep and yet driving. Robag took over the deep and dirty rhythms of the original perfectly and delivers a versatile piece. This opening salvo oozes quality and
sets things up perfectly for the electrified celebration of hi-octane technology come.

Jonathan Kaspar‘s growling interpretation of We Are provides a melancholic atmosphere with fascinating percussion parts. Zaps shoot through the air like small laser pistols while we let ourselves
be carried away by the bass, the frisky vocal stutter effect is the icing on the cake. Speeding things up, the euphoric trance that engulfs Krystal Klear’s epic version of Feiern. Expansive strings increase up
to ecstasy and guide us to a love-filled unity. This remix is sure to be an excellent peak-time smasher for the open-air season. On to a wild ride of pure techno with Benjamin Damage, who delivers a dry and uncompromising Berlin Techno version of Mystic Voices. Harder pace but the string synthesizer harmony brings light to an otherwise gloomy environment. Next up is Luke Slater’s PAS Deep Heet Mix to add a retro nineties vibe to proceedings on Nyx. Entering a rough space with gigantic clap impacts, we are blessed with straightforward Techno. Shimmering and spooling, this groove hits the
mark. Then, as if it was ever in doubt, Sven‘s lofty place in the techno firmament is underlined by a peak-time contribution by non-less than Detroit legend Robert Hood. Unmistakable, you must recognize the signature Robert Hood drive on Butoh. Chord stabs fulfill the Detroit feeling with offtaking string elements and high-energy vocal transformations. It’s a warm embrace that triggers emotions. Planetary Assault Systems then blasts things ever deeper into the cosmos on a second outing of Nyx. Reduced and to the point but of course, true to form, with powerful tribal percussion parts and intensive cutting hi-hats.

From there on in, the collection gradually re-enters the atmosphere, burning with a phosphorescent, melancholy glow. Harald Björk extrapolates Being In Love into a hypnotic groove for the early hours. A playful and atmospheric electronica interpretation to soothe our souls due to disharmonious synth pads and a dreamy deformation of the original melody. Mano Le Tough harnesses the ethno-rhythms
and brooding energy of Catharsis into a low-slung, tribal stomper. Anomalous organ parts ring out and link up with a trance-like sequence, summer feelings arouse as you feel like you can almost smell Ibizan air. The collection comes full circle with a second equally seductive interpretation of Silvi‘s Dream by Florian Hollerith. Stripped-down and hypnotic, the homage to Sven's girlfriend Silvi is extended as a reverence to Sven himself. Sven's profound vocal clearly infuse time and space and leave a forever-lasting memory of love.

By accident or design, it somehow leaves us with the reassuring sense that, although this specific part of the journey may be drawing to a close, the mission of the man behind it all most definitely isn't.

written & produced by: Sven Väth & Gregor Tresher

Four more lively, lovely electro offerings from Plant 43, the second in a limited edition series of EPs focussed on tracks written over the course of the winter of 2022/23. Opener 'Submolecular Shifting' is bright and bubbly, joining the dots between Kraftwerk and Model 500, while 'Eccentric Elliptical Orbit' follows on slower and more grandiose, echoing early New Order's icy cool synth sounds. 'Encased' has a more otherworldly Aphex-like feel, although the juddering, on-off bass keeps it plugged into the dancefloor. 'The Forgotten Storm' closes proceedings, more low key again and graced with ethereal, adding angelic choirs. Energised enough and streamlined enough to be good dancefloor gear, but expertly executed and, as ever, brimming with enough personality to be a decent home listen as well.

Stimela were a popular and successful South African Afro-fusion outfit led by guitarist, vocalist, songwriter, producer and arranger Ray Phiri. The band was formed under the name ‘The Cannibals’ during the 1970s when Phiri got together with drummer Isaac Mtshali, keyboard player Thabo Lloyd Lelosa and bass player Jabu Sibumbe. They initially started out as instrumentalists, but later evolved to Afro-fusion when they joined forces with vocalist Jacob “Mparanyana” Radebe in 1975. The story of ‘The Cannibals’ ends when Radebe died in 1978 but the ‘Stimela’ story was only just beginning.

In 1979, after a life-changing experience in Mozambique (where they were stranded for three months) the band members had to sell all their belongings to take a train home. This trip was a watershed moment as it was here where they conceived the new name for the band: The Zulu word for “locomotive-train” STIMELA.



Stimela would soon become little short of an institution in their home country of South Africa. With soulful tunes and gripping lyrics, the band has recorded platinum-winning albums such as Fire, Passion and Ecstasy, Shadows, Fear and Pain & Look Listen and Decide. In addition to recording their own material, the group supplied instrumental accompaniment on albums by a lengthy list of legendary artists. Stimela would go on to gain global fame after being featured on Paul Simon’s iconic 1986 ‘Graceland’ album and the mega tour that followed.



Ray Phiri would enter into many successful collaborations with major acts and artists such as Harari, Joan Baez, Willie Nelson and Manu Dibango. In 2017 he was diagnosed with lung cancer and died at the age of 70. Phiri has received many awards in recognition for his contribution in the music industry, one of these is the Order of Ikhamanga awarded to him by the South African president. This was to honor his sterling contribution to the South African music industry and the successful use of arts as an instrument of social transformation.



Stimela is the tale of a South African band who have battled their way through dark days to take their rightful place in the forefront of the South African apartheid-era music invasion. One of their most memorable tracks “Whispers in the Deep” was even restricted from being broadcasted by the old South African Broadcasting Corporation.



On the album we are presenting you today (Fire, Passion and Ecstasy from 1984) the unique sounds of Ray Phiri’s Stimela are fully showcased. Expect infectious hypnotic build-up grooves, cinematic lowdown jazz-funk, Afro-soul, delightful reggae, gospel influences and funky synth-boogie sounds…all with a touch of early eighties new wave and hints of Island disco mixed with sensual bubblegum pop. It comes as no surprise that the album has now become a sought-after item due to its addictive and original-sounding nature, a must-have for any self-respecting record digger!



These recordings completely encapsulate Stimela’s fusion style. They managed to craft a modern South African sound that continues to influence SA musicians to this day. Never in a rush, yet always with a sense of purpose and direction – like the steam train after which they took their name.

Tidal Waves Music now proudly presents the first reissue of this fantastic Afro-fusion classic since 1990 (originally released in 1984 on Gallo Records) & this is also the first time the album is getting a release outside of the African continent. This rare record (original copies tend to go for large amounts on the secondary market) is now finally back available as a limited 180g vinyl edition (limited to 500 copies) complete with the original artwork. Also included is a double-sided insert containing rare pictures of the band.

11th album by the one-of-a-kind collective: psychedelia and free form jazz (not jazz) trigger a sophisticated excursion into weird textures with drastic turns. Dislocated dense music full of secret connections!

Kammerflimmer Kollektief – "Schemen"

Before reason prevails, invoked by those who want everything to remain as it is, Kammerflimmer Kollektief disrupts the established supply chains of sound. It seeks more interesting ways to assemble them. Trusting in this, because of the fact that every sound that still comes out of a guitar, a bass, a harmonium, drums and electronic devices has already been taken into the common mangle of meaning anyway. Enough of all that. Here, nothing is explained. Here we speak in schemes. Polished and jerky.

The images that Kammerflimmer Kollektief conjures up therefore happen not in the focus of consciousness, but rather in its outer realms. In those to which one does not give one's full attention at the moment, but which are nevertheless perceived. For example, when a leaf falls from the ground back up to the tree in the corner of your eye, and for an instant you think this is possible, before you realize it was a small bird flying into the tree; it is in just such irritating moments between perception and realization that the art of the Kollektief also unfolds. On "Schemen", familiar fragments float gently around their core – a Fender Rhodes tone, a bass figure, a guitar motif, a masterful drum shuffle, a moment of icy stasis borrowed from the harmonium playing of Christa 'Nico' Päffgen. Triggering brief associations, they slowly rush off in other directions through free jazz-informed editing work, whereupon such zones can also arise in which perception has a few tricks ready and earlier experience suddenly breaks into the now in a completely different way. Half suspected, half seen.

Half-music like Can from Cologne – also masters of improvised editing – sometimes produced a few decades ago in their in-between moments. The first minutes of "Future Days" for example, which fade in gently, sketch a barely graspable figure emerging from all directions of the room. Kammerflimmer Kollektief also engages in similarly open moments of development. Loosely, it eludes the first formative impressions, keeping itself ready for moments that do not follow any logic of appointment. This looseness in handling makes Kammerflimmer Kollektief so fluidly audible, even when dissonant peaks and free playing arise. What Karlheinz Stockhausen is to Can's understanding of composition, the recordings of The Cocoon are to Kammerflimmer Kollektief. The Cocoon, a meeting of garage psychedelics from the Hannover area with free jazzers from the Galaxie Dream Band, whose album "While The Recording Engineer Sleeps", recorded in 1985 in unguarded moments, operates in a very similar way with decentralized perceptual ambivalences and only appeared more or less secretly four years later on Wilhelm Reich Schallspeicher. Other traces of "Schemen" lead to the debut album of Quicksilver Messenger Service. The guitars of Gary Duncan and John Cipollina, which refer to themselves in an unforced manner, are instructions to let go. They don't want to be traced in every note as a solo, but they give their music a sense that the essential takes place off center, in the mutual and intuitive gift of loving attentions. Consciousness-free.

Loving turns like the little guitar phrase that, like a kind of leitmotif, is repeatedly ghosting more or less unchanged through all of the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums. A Coricidin induced, very catchy slide idea filtered out of ancient Æther, which – who knows – maybe even centuries ago found its way from somewhere to America – the old, the eerie – and from there wafted on through the ages to southern Germany, to a smoky studio in the Upper Rhine lowlands. A memory of which even the memory no longer knows what it once reminded. Unsaid, then forgotten.

In Kammerflimmer Kollektief you will also find a friend of slowly building, unhurried music, which probably would have been appreciated by the old Franz Mesmer, who 200 years ago, after tranquilizing treatments, sometimes used to play for his patients ambient melodies on the enormous glass harmonica. However, in order not to surrender completely to the flow of one's own life energy, as Mesmer had in mind with his therapies, Kammerflimmer Kollektief occasionally adds hectic tensions, gently embraced by the droning of a sine wave generator, as if a trance could briefly refesh. This old analog sine wave generator is new in the Kammerflimmer assortment of sounds. So, the art of the Kollektief likes to dock occasionally in modern times, yet with the past in mind. Mental states begin to flicker between imagination and certainty, between culture-bound art expression and coincidences: A cawing and scraping can always just be a cawing and scraping with Kammerflimmer Kollektief, the way Andy Warhol's mushroom eater just eats a mushroom.

Heike Aumüller's cover works, which illustrate all the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums, additionally act as amplifiers of unexplained refractions. Her style consists of eye-corner art that remains so, even when looked at directly. Her shots remain disquieting because they do not jolt themselves into a reassuring order, even in retrospect. Rather than evading the fear that arises when looking at them by trying to impose some irrational rhyme or reason, that fear must simply be endured. This strategy of endurance is equally applicable to the music. The trick is to let parts be parts without compulsively seeking delusional patterns that lull us into a false sense of security and in doing so, possibly delude ourselves. In this context, freedom means not having to anxiously attach a fantasized superior meaning to everything. "Schemen" has an conspiracy disintegrating effect.


b A2 Zweites Kapitel (ruckartig) [feat. Heike Aumüller]

Spatial & Co is a synth-drizzled, spaced-out bass-heavy discoid-funk masterpiece from French disco lord and Arpadys maestro Sauveur Mallia. Recorded for French library label Tele Music, in 1979, it's by turns cosmic funk and creeping crime funk, bursting with low slung, k-i-l-l-e-r basslines, loping drum breaks and sparkling percussion. It's so funky it hurts.

Confidently swaggering out the gate is "Future Vision", with its loping yet dextrous bassline across strutting beats setting the scene. "Cosmic News", with its live crowd noises over killer bass work is reminiscent of Bernard & Nile's "Chic Cheer". The bass vs synth workout "Baby Bass" increases the propulsion whilst the dark and mysterious vibes of "Star Odyssey" serve as cosmic respite from being overpowered by funk. The temperature and tempo are raised with the bouncing sophisticated funk of "Meteor One", a slinky interstellar instrumental of the highest order before the sultry, melodic "Bass For Love" offers some attractive slow-mo sleaze to close out the first side.

Opening up Side B, the menacing, beatless "Space Alert" sounds like all those sci-fi theme tunes from your childhood, synthesised into one glorious (black) whole. "Galaxy Wars" is next, another majestic cosmic gem, sans drums. The ultra-percussive flex of "All The Bass" sees the return of the frenetic funky bass and neck-snapping drums. The stretched out funk of "O.V.N.I. Telex" is irresistible and cavernous in scope whilst the swirling, dramatic "Galactics" is an ominous yet melodic wonder. The throwaway funk-lite "Animals Bass" is a bit of a daft way to close out this otherwise flawless set but, hey, flirting with perfection is probably always more fun than actually achieving it.

Sauveur Mallia is a crucial figure in the history of electronic and dance music and a hugely underrated French library bass player and composer from the Arpadys / Voyage crew. This is just the beginning of Be With's Mallia - Tele Music reissue campaign!

The audio for Spatial & Co Vol. 1 has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring the punch of Sauveur's bass and those sick drums come through to the fullest. Pete Norman’s expert skills has made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original and iconic sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

With its name indicative of the music's boundary-testing diversity and Southwestern inspiration, On the Border finds the Eagles leaving everything on the table and embracing a harder edge that takes the band out of more relaxed territory and establishes it as a group that knows how – and wants – to rock. Glenn Frey, Don Henley, new member Don Felder, and company immediately announce their intent on the defiant album-opening hit "Already Gone" and never look back, crafting a gem of a record that from start to finish is arguably their most consistent and balanced effort.

Limited to 10,000 numbered copies, pressed on dead-quiet MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and mastered from the original analogue master tapes, Mobile Fidelity's ultra-hi-fi UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP collector's edition pays tribute to the record's significance and enhances the experience for generations to come. Playing with reference sonics that elevate an effort revered by audiophiles, it provides a lively, dynamic, transparent, and intimate view of a release whose contemporary importance continues to grow. The opportunity to zero in on the particulars of the Eagles' golden harmonies, distinct vocal timbres, and cohesive interplay has never been better.

Visually, the premium packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S On the Border pressing befit its select status. Housed in a deluxe box, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. No expense has been spared. From every angle, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artefact meant to be preserved, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the iconic Navajo cover painting to the meticulous finishes.

And with On the Border, there's plenty to take in and soak up. Declared by famed critic Robert Christgau as "the Eagles' best album," the 1974 set claims a rich backstory. Initially recorded amid tumultuous sessions with producer Glyn Johns in London shortly after the release of the group's sophomore Desperado set, On the Border took a new turn after the band elected to scrap most of the prior work, return to its native California, and team with producer Bill Szymczyk to give the material less of a smooth, polished sheen and more toughness. Szymczyk also afforded the Eagles more input and freedom in the arrangements, and suggested adding another guitarist to play on "Good Day in Hell." Felder got the call, and so won over the Eagles with his skills, he quickly became the fifth member of the band.

While the late-arriving Felder only plays on one other album cut, "Already Gone," his mates more than prove their muster on the remainder of a double-platinum affair that established the Eagles as a force whose range transcended the calmer country-leaning style it perfected on their first two LPs. Primarily written by Jackson Browne and shelved during the Desperado sessions due to its higher-energy nature, the throttle-twisting "James Dean" ricochets with barbed riffs and rebellious swagger. Listen without limits to how Szymczyk's raw production stamps the song with a leather-and-jeans cool befitting its protagonist. Similarly rugged, the slide-guitar-fueled "Good Day in Hell" boasts its own mean streak. And the funk-laced, boot-stomping title track cautions "don't you tell me 'bout your law and order." Throughout On the Border, the Eagles are in no mood to mess around.

Not that the band skirts sentimental territory. On one of the era's finest covers, the Eagles nail the bittersweet feelings and bring high-definition detail to the vivid scenery of Tom Waits' "Ol' '55," a song the group makes its own. The rustic ballad "My Man" serves as a tribute to the recently deceased Gram Parsons, with singer-guitarist Bernie Leadon taking the lead on the microphone as he pours his heart out to his former Flying Burrito Brothers mate. And when it comes to romance, is it possible to top "Best of My Love"? Graced with Henley's honey-dipped vocals, refined wordless group harmonies, brushed drums, and the gentle strum of acoustic guitars, the Johns-produced cut soared to Number One and set the stage for what would soon be the Eagles' reality: global dominance.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Instead of utilizing the industry-standard three-step lacquer process, Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab's new UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) uses only one step, bypassing two processes of generational loss. While three-step processing is designed for optimum yield and efficiency, UD1S is created for the ultimate in sound quality. Just as Mobile Fidelity pioneered the UHQR (Ultra High-Quality Record) with JVC in the 1980s, UD1S again represents another state-of-the-art advance in the record-manufacturing process. MFSL engineers begin with the original master recordings, painstakingly transfer them to DSD 256, and meticulously cut a set of lacquers. These lacquers are used to create a very fragile, pristine UD1S stamper called a "convert." Delicate "converts" are then formed into the actual record stampers, producing a final product that literally and figuratively brings you closer to the music. By skipping the additional steps of pulling another positive and an additional negative, as done in the three-step process used in standard pressings, UD1S produces a final LP with the lowest noise floor possible today. The removal of the additional two steps of generational loss in the plating process reveals tremendous amounts of extra musical detail and dynamics, which are otherwise lost due to the standard copying process. The exclusive nature of these very limited pressings guarantees that every UD1S pressing serves as an immaculate replica of the lacquer sourced directly from the original master recording. Every conceivable aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the most perfect record album available today.

Baiser Mortel is the soundtrack of a performance commissioned by the Bourse de Commerce - Pinault Collection, performed in Paris in October 2021. PAN presents Baiser Mortel, the original soundtrack to the acclaimed theatrical performance of the same name. Staged at the Bourse de Commerce - Pinault Collection over four days last October, the original production - collaboratively realized by composer and director Low Jack, composer and rapper Lala &ce, choreographer Cecilia Bengolea with costumes designed by Marine Serre and Oriana Bekka as creative director and co- director of the performance - merged ballet and urban folklore; sound art and soap opera. A modern-day danse macabre, Baiser Mortel (trans. "The Kiss of Death") cast Lala &ce in the title role. Unfolding over thirteen songs, the musical narrative follows Death as she navigates the realm of the living, and the encounters - desire, romance, spiritual awakening, and adventure - which validate the human experience. "I brought in people who are close to me personally and musically in order to tell a story that speaks to humanity," Lala &ce says in a video uploaded to Bourse de Commerce - Pinault Collection's YouTube channel. Performers Jäde, Rad Cartier, BabySolo33, and Le Diouck joined Lala &ce on stage and in the booth at La Place - Centre Culturel Hip Hop in Paris, where the official soundtrack was recorded. A sonic representation of the musical's themes, Baiser Mortel the album - produced by Low Jack and written by Lala &ce with artwork by Pierre Debusschere - moves through the distorted strings of its opening track, "Goûter" and gathers sonic and lyrical intensity on each successive song. "Lune," the melancholically autotuned midpoint of the album, marks the beginning of the musical's second act and sets the tone for its tragic resolution. Mechanical sounds mix with sonic influences spanning the Global South throughout the album, honoring both Low Jack and Lala &ce's musical heritage and influences, while developing a new musical lexicon that defies comparison. As a theatrical production, Baiser Mortel represents a departure for both artists. A veteran of Parisian subculture, Low Jack's collaboration with Lala &ce represents a new model of artistic mentorship based not on age but on experience, with each artist leaving a distinct signature on the work.

Pleasure Pool are Finn O’Hare, Andrew Robertson and a rolling cast of Glasgow-based musicians, performers and artists. They sound like nothing else to have come out of Glasgow recently, exploring the territory between live performance and club culture through their collaborative ethos and party-starting attitude. Their debut EP, Night Scars, arrived in early March 2020 and now comes Love Without Illusion, Pleasure Pool’s debut album, released on Optimo Music.

Love Without Illusion adds layers of complexity and introspection to Night Scars’ squarely dance floor-focused brew, though the record still oozes danceable energy. Open Hours is like opening a door and finding a party already in full swing, an assortment of recurring Pleasure Pool motifs – echoing, dubbed-out vocals, gorgeous, impossibly airy synth melodies, louche percussion, cowbells, rising and falling flecks of trumpet – all introduced in short order. Lick The Bag, which prominently features vocalists Chloe Charlton and Raissa Pardini, has a controlled chaos befitting its morning-after-the-night-before name.

The rest of the album rides this glimmering, night-magic mood at varying frequencies, with the title track a gentle storm of grandiose walls of synth and pulsing vocal fragments. The slow and low flickering funk of album closer Zero Hours pulls all that has come before it together to end things in the woozy bliss of a walk back home in warm, gentle sunlight.

Love Without Illusion is a dazzlingly complete expression of Pleasure Pool’s intoxicating sound and vision. Dive on in and explore.

Berlin-based producer Rampue has not released an album in 14 (in words: fourteen) years. Between 2008 and 2020 he toured the world and worked mainly on his live sets in the meantime. So now only a worldwide pandemic had the power to prevent the traveling musician from continuing this hustle and bustle and eventually share a new record with the public. Corona was what brought this standstill and the otherwise well- traveled individual experiences cabin-fever during lockdown. Hence, the new Rampue album "Tragweite" came into existence in February 2021, which portrays the artist's desire for experimentation.
Inspired by a modular synthesizer (Buchla), Rampue has seemingly put himself into a kind of trance, in which he lets the machines work and combines randomly created sounds with airy structures such as low drums or simple grooves. Rampue accomplished to break free by using random sounds as a new impulse and a way out of a creative crisis, which stemmed both from the enforced home isolation and from the self-perceived paralysis. The result is literally unique, as many of the sound products cannot be reconstructed and are preserved in album form for the general public.
Listening to "Tragweite" one gets the impression that the dialectical relationship between chaos and order, further supported by its production, is the defining theme of the album. After an initially perceived chaos, a delicate order, which is determined by structuring drum patterns and basslines, takes over throughout the course of the album.
Later, it frays and loses itself again in sounds and tones created mechanically However, it never seems arbitrary, but willful and skillfully staged. For instance, "Furo?" begins with apparent arrhythmia. The combination of bass and subtle percussion, however, gives this arrhythmia a shape, guiding the track which gradually becomes more and more driving without losing its original playfulness.
Although one might be inclined to think of genres such as Downtempo or Ambient at the beginning in the further course of the album results in such a diverse sound and rhythmic landscape that one willingly questions one's own perception of music while listening and finally throws every type of categorization overboard joyfully. The listening experience is too intoxicating and enlightening to stick to simple genre boundaries. The musical spectrum ranges from straight arrangements that live entirely without a drum foundation ("Fu?r Dich") to almost meditative sound collages ("Regengesicht") to the four-to-the-floor banger "Kembang" which adds a grimmer note with a certain industrial appeal to the overall rather melancholic-progressive curation. "Direct Faden" on the other hand, surprises with its simple guitar-based foundation on which the omnipresent synth snippets and pads are allowed to let off steam towards the end of the record. The track that most closely combines the progressive production style with a danceable club atmosphere is probably "Phobia". Wafting, partly breaking away synthesizer sounds rise higher and higher, while the driving mixture of bass and drums consistently march forward.
Rampue breaks with his old, musical habits as "Tragweite" creates the impression of improvisation and jam character without getting lost. Rampue takes his listeners on a journey that is stirring and moving, sometimes demanding or even a bit disturbing, yet always one thing: incredibly exciting.

»Hallway Waverider« is Mikko Singh’s second album for Morr Music under his Haleiwa moniker. Blending the washed-out aesthetics of dream pop with a lo-fi take on modern psychedelia, it is a fuzzy record in more than one sense. The ten songs see the multi-instrumentalist explore the sonic idiosyncrasies of analogue recording equipment while also expressing a self-assured statement by a musician who has carved out a niche for himself and feels perfectly at home in it. “This record is like me telling my teenage self that I am OK,” says Singh. “Back then, I was recording my song ideas on cassette players but held the belief that music should be recorded in an expensive studio with expensive gear in order to be real.” As it turns out however, Singh had been right from the start, having come full circle as an established artist some twenty years later.

After exploring the affordances of vintage equipment for 2019’s »Cloud Formations« LP, Singh worked with a Tascam 244 4-track cassette recorder and Tascam 388 8-track reel-to-reel recorder to transform the sounds of his vintage synthesizers, bass, the occasional guitar part, and drums supplied by Svante Karlsson for »Hallway Waverider«. By experimenting extensively with the machines’ unique sonic qualities and constantly reworking the pieces in regards to their sound signature over the course of two years, Singh has found the perfect equilibrium of electronic music and lo-fi aesthetics while navigating with ease through styles like driving surf rock, gritty garage punk and ethereal dream pop. On his new record, he seamlessly integrates these influences into anthemic yet soothing songs.

The title of the album refers to Singh’s halcyon days as a teenager spent listening to punk music and—in wintertime—skateboarding in his own bedroom. The lyrics refer to surfing as a nod to both his own experiences with riding the waves and the music genre that has provided him with inspiration throughout his career as a prolific recording artist with three solo albums under his belt. However, surfing primarily serves as a metaphor for something bigger. “It’s about things in life that are important to me; things that make me feel good and soothe the mind,” he explains. It comes as no surprise then that »Hallway Waverider« is also dedicated to a key figure in his life. “The album is an ode to my mother who passed away in 2015,” says the artist. “She made it possible for me to have a good childhood and to be able to do what I love.”

This sense of closure and being at peace with himself is also expressed in lyrics like "A sea stroll. Going slower. Feeling featherlight,” expressing a calm that perfectly mirrors the music’s steady grooves and welcoming overall feeling. Starting with the upbeat »River Park/ Sleeping Pill«; to the almost ambient, synthesizer-heavy »A Bottomless Pit«; or short, punk-inspired and bassline-driven outbursts like »Watered Down« or »Halulu Lake«; to the blissful title track that closes the album, Singh opens up a whole panorama of different moods across a broad variety of musical styles. They are connected by that rare thing: a unique musical vision expressed by an instantly recognisable sonic signature.

Broadway in Soho to perform a wholly improvised concert. This ensemble’s solos spring from collective improvisations and a tumultuous backbeat, loosely inspired by the creations of Coltrane, Coleman, Albert Ayler, and their brethren. The de facto leader was Richard “Dickie” Landry, a saxophonist and keyboardist who joined composer Philip Glass’s group in 1969. Landry had become a fixture in downtown New York’s loft and art scenes at the close of the 1960s, after he high-tailed it by car from Louisiana to the Lower East Side and auspiciously encountered Ornette Coleman at the Village Gate the night of his arrival.

For this concert, fellow Glass reedists Jon Smith and Richard Peck joined in, alongside Rusty Gilder and Robert Prado, both doubling on bass (upright and electric) and trumpet. The drum chair was occupied by New Orleans firecracker David Lee, Jr., who brought alto saxophonist Alan Braufman along for the session (Braufman was the only non-Louisiana player in the band). The ensemble stretched

out in the gallery for several hours in a configuration reflecting those that took place at Landry’s Chinatown loft, documented in photos by artists Tina Girouard and Suzanne Harris that adorn the inside of the original gatefold album jacket. Recorded live by Glass’ sound engineer Kurt Munkacsi, the album was released as a double LP on Chatham Square, the small imprint Landry and Glass co-ran, in a stark greyscale cover and simply titled Solos. The order of the players’ improvisations was laid out on the album inner labels, though unsurprisingly there’s a fair amount of blend. At the end of the day Solos is beyond category, a rousing exploration of instrumentation, rhythm, and life.

Nearly 30 years into an already impressive career – which includes 8 studio albums, tours with Descendents, blink-182, Bon Jovi, Linkin Park, Snoop Dogg, Bad Religion, and more, and over 365 shows on the Vans Warped Tour – Less Than Jake has never been a band to rest on its laurels. Today the ska punk veterans have shown the best is yet to come with the release of their first new song in 3 years, “Lie To Me,” and announcement of their new album Silver Linings, out December 11 th via Pure Noise Records. Fans can watch the music video for “Lie To Me” and pre-order the album now at https://smarturl.it/LTJ . “We made a new record! Our first full length with our new drummer, Matt Yonker, and it sounds amazing,” shares vocalist/guitarist Chris Demakes. “More vocal hooks than a tackle box, horns galore and that bombastic and upbeat energy that we’re known for. We didn’t try to reinvent the wheel with this one, it’s still undeniably Less Than Jake. Just a bit punchier and in your face. We can’t wait for our fans to hear it!” On how it feels to still be writing music together after so many years, vocalist/bassist Roger Lima shares: “It's still so freaking exciting!! After decades of working on songs together, we still love it, and with our new drummer Matt Yonker, we feel reignited and refueled. Personally, I feel that this is the first step of a new era for the band. While the music feels undeniably Less Than Jake, the flow of the tracks and the attitude of the horns and lyrics have a freshness to them and I look forward to sharing these songs with our amazing fans.” Less Than Jake has no plans of slowing down any time soon as they prepare for the release of their 9 th studio album, Silver Linings, out December 11 th via Pure Noise Records.

Moiré's rain-streaked and masterful Circuits album dropped this past September. RA's Andrew Ryce stated the eight-track album cast the shadowy producer into "a rarefied air occupied by the only the finest and most influential of ambient techno artists."

Now, in short order, the label returns with a remix EP charting out multiple hubs of oblique dance floor innovation. If there's a sonic motif on the A-side, it's vastly reactive interpretations of the "factory floor" element that inspired techno's pioneers. Matthew Herbert, a pioneering force in his own right, mixes steam engine percussion with the dreamy atmospherics of "Circuit 15" and comes up with eight minutes of cerebral machine funk. Tolouse Low Trax, meanwhile, continues his masterclass in modern motorik on his remix of "Circuit 7," integrating a chiming piano into a fascinating, perfectly-timed 110 BPM rhythm.

The B-side, meanwhile, doubles down on the oneiric nature of the original material. Workshop head and Avenue 66 alumnus Lowtec builds allows "Circuit 04"'s synths to billow into Gas-like immersive layering, sheets of melody are anchored by a restrained beat for an ambient techno track that doesn't tip the scales too far in one direction or the other. Rather, it achieves a perfect balance. Hamburg/Dial mainstay Lawrence closes things out with his version of "Circuit 18," which also concludes the original album. While the original has a wistful, Deckard's dream quality, Lawrence's version is deeply-rooted in the late-night German style; a low-slung bassline will keep dancers deeply rooted while those wistful chords sweep in like the violet before dawn.