Suche:lower level

Mister Joshooa consolidates his delivery on Party store this time with a proper full length EP,
with 3 originals and 2 remixes from Delano Smith and Mass Prod that will keep the dancefloor
busy for a while.
A very solid release that goes from Bass to House to Techno, all solid club tools that will keep
the club busy, five bangers that all evoke the Party Store blueprint feeling: FRESH OUTTA JAIL
Strong of his release on Planet E and his Performances in the world's temple of Techno Music
between his own Detroit and Berlin, Josh is always on point with cutting edge productions that
go straight to the point, to party.
Cosmo is a timeshifting bass tool, so abstract yet so powerful, so empty yet so present that it
will allow you to take your crowd towards the most twisted cuts of club music, perfect to merge
Bass, Minimal House and Techno.
Delano Smith and Mass Prod both deliver a more 4 to the floor/ Club friendly version of Cosmo.
Delano takes the core groove of the track and brings it up on a monstrous Detroit House Tool,
heavy on basseline and chords, it flows like water on day 3. you just wanna play this more and
more, the more you listen to it.
Mass Prod delivers a darker, lower body versions of the title track, a Minimalistic after hour tool
where aerie vocals and percussions are rolling over a primitive House groove that will keep the
dancefloor simmerin for a while.
Adult use is a perfect party track to set the vibe and to get completely weird. Dub Acid Stepper
at his best, proper after party fuel, one to make people stand from couches and blankets in the
morning!
Ketchup popsicle is a pure Detroit Banger with psych vocals and digital acid at his best with full
on trancey effects and percussions, not for the faint of heart, a track that will take you to new
levels of party time!

Right now, right this second and of course right this moment while you listening to it or even while reading this line of text may be witnessed the real royalty of the underground of Thailand - DOTT. Pakarapol, the mastermind behind this release has made his name in concrete actions towards the development of the local and international scene whether it’s to play sweaty basements or grand festivals, releasing quality music or being one of the driving forces behind the record store called “More Rice” which is located in the heart of the capital city - Bangkok. On the title track of the release there has been intensive remix work done by the Uruguay’s own diamond level producer Luis Malon. Luis has brought his view and vision of how things are done and has flawlessly executed this doing so. With this Thai - Uruguayan connection the release is born for our ears and souls to indulge in and of course without any doubt to raise that dust from the floors, roofs or any given surfaces once the low ends of the record starting to give off its vibrations.

On June 27, 2025, a long-dormant signal reactivates from Hamburg’s hidden places: Helena Hauff and F#X return as Black Sites with R4 on Tresor Records—their first full-length album and the first release under the moniker since 2014. Like a hieroglyphic recently discovered and translated, R4 feels more like a long-awaited resumption than a comeback.
Recorded to tape with minimal editing or post-production the record is a classic example of the symbiotic relationship that can come from the interaction of human and machine. This punk ethos isn’t invoked through distortion alone, but through method; in the album’s breaking from the received wisdom of hardness tethered to speed as most of the tougher pieces are lower BPM and vice versa (with one notable exception in the mind-melting stomp of BLOKK).
Across ten tracks, Black Sites traverse a landscape where genre dissolves into intention. It migrates through electro’s danceability, acid house’s corrosion, and into the liminal realm of machine funk—a genre coined by Andrew Weatherall, which sounds like the results of technology dreaming of soul where the emphasis is on live execution, on immediacy over perfection—a sound forged in the act of creating, not polishing.
In a 2013 interview, around the time of the first Black Sites EP, Hauff was quoted as saying that she wants “things to fit together properly, but on another level, I really want them to make sense together.” That principle animates R4: The album’s form reveals itself in time, with each movement echoing and amplifying the others to create a synergistic whole.
From the opening crawl of C4 (a name that like the music foreshadows the explosions to come) to the end-of-the-night bliss of MOTHERJAM via the intense peaks of BLOKK, 707, and classic acid track 3D it’s clear that R4 is a work made with serious intent; a refutation of a world where streaming has made the two-minute single the dominant musical form again. R4 demands immersion, not just attention. It is not a collection of tracks, but a singular, recursive experience: a mirror in which sound and listener repeatedly rediscover one another.

finally repressed !

After a lengthy break Mark Henning returns with his new label Swing and four on-point tracks. 'Stash House' kicks things off with a crisply produced groove with snatched male vocals and rounded bass keeping the swing high. 'Exit Acid' ups the energy levels with an acidic tinged b-line proving a grimier feel whilst flip side's 'James Hughes Blues' is all about the breakdown; a neat synth line and huge bass tones lending it a more anthemic edge. Lastly 'The Horror' opts for a lower key ride, fuller male vocal imbuing the track with a sleazier feeling.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

The discovery of Doris Dennison's score represents a genuine musicological breakthrough—what once would have been "a tree falling in the woods" thirty years ago now holds the potential to render "a thunderous clap in our minds." While researching Anna Halprin's lesser-known collaborators, scholar Tom Welsh uncovered the archives of AA Leath, one of Halprin's principal dancers. Buried within these materials was Dennison's handwritten score for Earth Interval, dated May 1956. Born in Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1908, and raised near Seattle, Dennison (1908-2009) encountered John Cage while teaching Dalcroze eurythmics at the Cornish College of the Arts. She joined Cage's earliest percussion quartet—alongside Margaret Jansen, the composer and his wife Xenia—in the group widely regarded as having performed the first complete concert of percussion music in the United States. This historic December 1938 concert was followed by tours and the landmark May 1941 performance at the California Club, comprising Cage and Lou Harrison's Double Music, the premiere of Cage's Third Construction, and Harrison's 13th Simfony.

As Bradford Bailey observes in his extensive liner notes, Earth Interval demonstrates "an extraordinary balance of elements that imbues the piece with a sense of clarity, directness, and constraint that is both distinct and ahead of its time." The work's most remarkable innovation lies in its approach to extended techniques, particularly Dennison's notation for the central movement: "In 2nd movement, 1st player lowers + raises a gong into a tub of water while beating." This technique, absorbed from Cage's experimental vocabulary, generates what Bailey describes as "fields of acoustic abstraction that bend and warp time through sustained resonances, beat, and space." The temporal sophistication of these manipulations anticipated Karlheinz Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) and Annea Lockwood's water-based sound investigations by over a decade. After joining Mills College as dance accompanist, Dennison maintained crucial connections to the Bay Area's experimental scene, collaborating with figures like Merce Cunningham and programming Cage's music throughout the 1950s.

Comprising three movements—Land Form, Air Tide, and Earth Play—Earth Interval is scored for recorder, drums, gongs, maracas, muted gongs, and bowl gongs. In total, the piece is just under eight minutes: "a fleeting glimmer of moment in time, a life spent at the cutting edge, and a singular creative vision that packs a powerful punch." When viewed in historical context, placed in contrast to roughly contemporaneous avant-garde percussion works by Cage, Harrison, Louis Thomas Hardin (Moondog), and Harry Partch, or important precursors like Edgard Varèse's Ionisation (1931) and Henry Cowell's Ostinato Pianissimo (1934), it's clear that Dennison was following her own path. Earth Interval is not derivative. It is a precursor to what was yet to come, alluding to developments of avant-garde and experimental music that wouldn't begin to appear on the cultural landscape until the 1970s and '80s, with the emergence of Post-Minimalism and more idiosyncratic artists and ensembles like Midori Takada, Ros Bandt, Peter Giger, Frank Perry, Christopher Tree, Michael Ranta, Gamelan Son of Lion, and Niagara.

This recording by Chicago's Third Coast Percussion, captured in March 2022, represents the first complete documentation of this pioneering work. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity while maintaining its historical specificity. Where Cage, Harrison, and Partch employed "self-consciously off-kilter polyrhythms," Dennison's rhythmic sensibility anticipates minimalist developments by nearly a decade, yet integrates "forceful rests, as well as sharp shifts in sonic character, tempo, and meter, that break the momentum and breathe a sense of life into the piece's structure." This positions her work closer to Post-Minimalism decades before its emergence. The architectural approach demonstrates Dennison's understanding that "the composer almost entirely disappears" in favor of phenomenological listening experience, creating what might be called an egoless music that places its realities and meaning entirely in the ear of the beholder. The present recording, realized by Chicago's distinguished Third Coast Percussion ensemble, represents a significant achievement in experimental music scholarship and performance practice. As specialists in the Cage tradition and contemporary percussion repertoire, Third Coast Percussion approached Earth Interval with the historical sensitivity and technical precision required to illuminate Dennison's subtle compositional innovations. The March 2022 recording sessions, engineered by Colin Campbell, capture both the work's intimate chamber music qualities and its bold exploration of extended techniques. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity—its ability to speak directly to current musical concerns while maintaining its historical specificity.

This recording serves multiple scholarly functions: it provides the first complete documentation of Dennison's compositional voice, offers insight into the broader network of experimental music practitioners surrounding Cage and Harrison, and demonstrates the sophisticated level of compositional thinking that was occurring within the Bay Area's dance-music collaborations of the 1950s. The work's emphasis on phenomenological listening—what might be called an "egoless" approach to musical experience—places it within a lineage of American experimental music that prioritizes perceptual process over compositional personality. The work's original obscurity—limited to AA Leath's performances at venues like the 1957 Pacific Coast Arts Festival at Reed College—paradoxically allowed it to remain "entirely on its own terms," free from the constraints of historical categorization. Drawing on Jacques Derrida's Archive Fever, the argument emerges that "the archive can acknowledge, celebrate, and resurrect" overlooked voices, transforming our understanding of experimental music history. The present Blume edition, featuring Third Coast Percussion's authoritative interpretation, includes a lavishly illustrated 16-page booklet designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, containing complete scholarly apparatus, historical photographs, and detailed production notes. This recording enables "cross-temporal intersectionality," allowing Dennison to "belong to a newly formed and more dynamic understanding of the present and past," demonstrating how forgotten voices can reshape entire historical narratives when given proper scholarly attention and performance advocacy.

“The Rough And The Smooth” was the highly anticipated 2nd album from Outside. Written, produced, mixed and engineered by a 22 year old Matt Cooper, who journeyed through dub, jungle, hip hop and latin rhythms and vibrant, modal jazz. Playing much of the instrumentation including keys and drums, Matt was joined by some of the scene’s finest players from Jhelisa, Imaani, Greg Osby, Cleveland Watkiss, Byron Wallen, Tony Remy and Gary Crosby.

Upon release, ‘The Rough And The Smooth‘ received huge acclaim and was hailed as a masterpiece by the music press from GQ, MOJO, The Face and Mixmag and fans alike, taking Outside to another level.

From the complex funk of ‘Journeyman‘ parts 1 and 2, to the Nu Yorican hit of ‘The 29/8 Steps‘, to the powerfully emotive violin led jungle of ‘To Forgive But Not Forget‘ and the epic jazz and beats fusion that is ‘Moodswing‘, the album was impossible to pigeonhole and influenced a generation of music heads and artists.

Matching vivid world-building with a full house of kinetic rhythms, Polygonia delivers her latest album to Dekmantel as an invitation to experience 12 different dream scenarios.

As Polygonia, Munich-based Lindsey Wang has established herself as a constantly inventive, omnipresent operator within the modern electronic landscape, exploring varying shades of ambient and deep techno while increasingly spreading into downtempo and leftfield electronica with a playful yet mysterious spirit.

Dream Horizons is an instructive title — Wang approached her new album as a collection of different dream scenarios, with all the creative freedom the concept implies. From oceanic calm to artful propulsion, she was free to shift gears from track to track while relishing the strange and beautiful atmospheres her inspiration pointed towards. A multi-instrumentalist as well as a producer, Wang recorded her own voice, saxophone, flute, violin and percussion to inject organic, human vibrancy into the surreal spaces she was shaping out, capturing the uncanny sensation of alien and familiar that hangs over the places we visit when we sleep.

There are pointedly direct techno workouts on the album, from deft beatdown 'Soul Reflections' to shimmering ear worm 'Set Me Free', and 'Twisted Colours' relishes shifting blocks of flute around a sprightly, footwork-tickled framework. Elsewhere, there's space for softer expressions on pearlescent opus 'Crystal Valley' while elastic rhythms and tactile textures slither around at a lower tempo on 'Flakes Flying Upwards'. In between, Wang plays with fractured beat patterns and sharply sculpted sonic matter with a staggering level of detail and intention. 'Gate To Amygdala' is the perfect example of the bold scope of her expression — the midpoint track thrives on nervous tension and a dislocated sense of momentum without anything like a conventional techno trope. 'Mindfunk' equally pushes and pulls at sensory perception with an off-kilter, awkwardly looped synth phrase that relishes the opportunity to skew dance music conventions within the flexible rules of the dream world.

For all the smart production and knowingly experimental approaches that form the basis of the album's sound, it's also a record charged with the full range of emotions you might expect to experience on a break away from consciousness. Whether it's the melancholic impressions that smudge into incidental pauses on 'Metaphysical Scribbles' or the mantra-like breath and sax combination of 'Essential Breath' that closes the record, Polygonia's heart bursts out of the album's vibrant form as brilliantly as her exacting, studio-synced mind.

‘You are behind the damn wheel every day and you don’t even know it’ , weightily remarks Powerplant’s band leader Theo Zhykharyev on the reading of his latest single. London-based project signals the return to signature formula of marching drum machines and wailing synthesisers, matured by life experiencing of prolonged touring. ’Car is life, brother. Sometimes you drive it, other times - the car drives you. And, statistically, we’ll all see the airbags go off sooner than later as consequence of choices made by us or onto us, consciously or not.’
Crashing Cars breaks out the gates to the heavy low end driven dance floor. ‘I was listening to a lot of Bladee when I wrote it and needed a similar thick kick to get you moving’, says Theo. Its an emotionally loaded cannon of a track that will keep you in its grip until it has run its course and told its story. Yearning from connection unfulfilled, rings out through the heartbroken and weeping synth and choir lines. The ever-morphing and dynamic bass works in tandem with razor sharp guitars. The instrumentation, through combined ‘no looking back’ forward charge and immediacy, conjure a manic and emotional forward momentum, which rings out in the song’s lyrics. The vocal performance ranges from the trademark Powerplant goblin squeaks, to more mature, tour-hardened singing. On a sonic aesthetic level, Crashing Cars vibrates in a familiar fashion to Powerplant’s biggest hit Dungen. However, this time far less playful and harder hitting. Described as the fallout of “avoiding, chasing and running away”, lyrically it paints a dead end in human relationships concluding it car-crash heading for the scrapyard. The song concludes with a loaded four line spoken word poetry segment, that hangs over the fleeting outro.
The B side of the single, Never Smile, rolls the speed back, but throws in jangly guitar hooks and bouncy bass lines. Zhykharyev’s vocals sit in a lower register, hence are more stoic and melancholic. If this track had to be a day of the week, it would be a calm, introspective Sunday. With lyrics about looking into evil omens, the sky and reading people as ‘not something different’, it paints an ambiguous, but heavy conclusion about the world and its people. It tells a story about circumstantially settling into an identity and playing the assigned part for the convenience of the external world. It’s easier to fit than to stand apart. It's a perfect balance of mid-tempo radio-rock that builds and changes, before exploding into a shaggy guitar solo, only to go into an unexpected ethereal outro and this 7”s crescendo.
‘Both of these songs are kinda old now, sitting at around 4 years old. And although I haven’t changed the lyrics since then, I somehow find new meaning in them as time goes on. Being Ukrainian and going into the fourth year of the full scale Russian invasion back home, the chorus “my death to you - a better price to pay” makes a lot of sense looking at how the world powers are trying to spin the devastation of my people for a quick profit and an easier life for themselves. This single coming out now at this very point in my life feels both profound and very ironic. Life never ends’, summarises Zhykharyev.

Ecstatic’s dreamiest cadets bliss out on a new album of acoustic and electric guitar, harmonium and synth tapestries, notably nestling a Romance cameo within a genteel toggle of atmospheric pressure.

Back on (side) road after releasing quietly acclaimed kosmische gem ‘I Had too Much to Dream Last Night’ back in 2021 and the lysergic lushness of ‘Listen to the Sky’ a couple of years later, Celestial suggest a more sublime return to earth with the shine-eyed wonders of ‘I Can Hear the Grass Grow’, an album that soothes to the supine in eight shimmering parts of pearlescent melodic motifs marbling harmonious backdrops intended to tenderly comb nerves straight.

The duo take their role as seductive sandmen with a curious melodic wit that leaves something to the imagination whilst nudging it along the album’s narrative thread. A courtly flamenco lick flickers in opener ‘The Endless Stair’, one of the most restrained recordings we've heard from the childhood friends; blessed with just a little reverb and echo, as if a mic's been lowered into some dimly lit basement while Celestial puzzle out mystifying, interlocking harmonies. It hits a mid-point between John Fahey's raga-inspired Americana and Vini Reilly's rain-soaked Northern blues - the emotion throbs from every note.

Celestial's music is never too polished, giving it the fuzzy, uninhibited flair of a long-lost mail order private press and instilling it with a level of humanity that's rare to discover in the new-new age. Even when mysterious labelmate Romance turns up to ornament 'Mermaid Boulevard' with backmasked electronics, it's their low-slung Ry Cooder-esque guitar/bass that provides the narrative anchor, while the title track and spongiform analog textures of ‘Song For The rainy Season’ dial it right down to a Harmonia-via-BoC pastoral sublime. Vini Reilly and Eno’s influence is most surely felt on the swaying elegance of ‘Sweet Sleep, Angel Mild’, with a central motif that lingers on the mind long after it’s stopped playing, whilst their closing couplet perfectly resolves the cycle with a melancholic kiss-off for the ages.

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”

HJirok is a mythical figure, conceived as a fictional character by Iranian-born Kurdish singer and artist Hani Mojahedy. Together with versatile music producer And Toma of Mouse On Mars, she combined a variety of sounds collected during their joint travels to Iraqi Kurdistan and elsewhere with heavily processed recordings of Sufi drum rhythms and setar melodies. The result is a driving, dubbed-out, and deeply intricate soundscape that perfectly sets the stage for Mojahedy's extended, unconventional vocal techniques and polyglot lyrics. Both informed by tradition and rigorously forward-looking, »Hjirok« (with a lowercase J) is at once a profoundly personal album and a universal utopian promise. As a ghost from the past, HJirok draws on Mojtahedy's memories to mould a new future out of them.

The foundation for »Hjirok« was laid in the city of Erbil in the Kurdish part of Iraq. During one of their stays in the region, Mojahedy and Toma recorded the three percussionists Hadi Alizadeh, Jawad Salkhordeh and Serdar Saydan as well as setar player Ali Choolaei from Motahedy's backing band while they were playingthe rhythms and notes that she had grown up with in the house of her grandfather in the Iranian city of Sanandaj. Her memories of that place revolve around hypnotic Sufi music, dervishes in deep trance, and ecstatic singing. Much like this music seemed to open a portal to other dimensions, the inhabitants of the house lived in a sort of alternative reality: It provided them with a hideaway from political circumstances. Following the Iranian revolution in 1979, a Kurdish rebellion ensued but was met with the utmost brutality by the new regime, which resulted in the death of thousands.

It is no coincidence that the music on »Hirok« would draw on rhythmic patterns that were passed on from one generation to the next for hundreds of years. »The project is rooted in the figures of the Sufi dervishes and thus a culture that precedes today's political, social, cultural, and religious systems,« explains Mohtahedy. »The Sufi sound travelled around the entire world. I like to think of it as a dialogue between peoples-one based on the rhythms of the drums and the sound of their voices.« Toma adds that by electronically transforming the recordings and enriching them with field recordings from both rural and urban spaces, they were able to use the stories told by the drums and the setar to create an entirely new narrative.

The story told by these eight pieces is hence a deeply personal, but also inherently political one. Moitahedy herself left Iran in 2004 and relocated to Berlin in 2010. Having continued to use her art as a platform to tirelessly advocate for the rights of the Kurdish people and women under oppressive regimes, she has not been allowed to return to her country of origin ever since. »Hani is singing for equality and there are people who are afraid of that-her femininity, her strength.« Toma says. Much like earlier Hirok sound installations addressed human-made climate change and other systemic ills, also »Hjirok« can hardly be disconnected from far-reaching struggles for liberation and equality.

This is also true on a thematic and even linguistic level. »The lyrics are about a promise,« Mojahedy says, citing Kurdish writer Ebdulla Pesêw as an inspiration. »At their core, these are about that day on which violence and fear become a thing of the past; what they tell you is ot not give up, to keep hoping,« she adds. The promise embedded in them is an emancipatory one. These contents are mirrored on a linguistic level: The lyrics were written in both Kurdish and Farsi, blurring the lines between the two languages and thus, Kurdish and Persian cultures.

Mojahedy, or rather HJirok, conveys these philosophical themes with elegance. Herversatile vocal performance is only loosely basedo n established styles. »Of course everything started with traditional rhythms, but we kept pushing things further and further, so Idid the same with my voice,« Mojahedy explains. »There were no boundaries.« The same can be said of the field recordings that she and Toma used. Whether it's conversations between members of the Pesmerge, the Kurdish armed forces, having a chat in meadow full of bunnies or the humming and buzzing of metropolises like Tehran: »Hirok« paints a sonic picture that is quite literally autopian one; that of a non-place in which different soundscapes, cultures and ways of life coexist peacefully.

What the album conjures up from Mojahedy's memory is not only a very specific place during a unique time in history as experienced by a single person. It is also ametaphorical home open to anyone who wishes to enter - promise of a better, more egalitarian future for everyone. Hence, HJirok will bring it on tour, presenting the material as an audio-visual live show that makes use of the photo and video material that Mojahedy and Toma have collected during their travels through Kurdistan.ja

PRESSED ON FRUIT PUNCH COLORED VINYL WITH HAND NUMBERED OBILIMITED TO 2000 COPIES

The contemporary realm of hip hop music can be seen as polarized between two sides; mainstream versus underground, industry versus independent, at a base level boiled down to catchy sounds & infective hooks over higher quality lyrical content. These elements don’t need to be mutually exclusive, but these days it’s rare to find an act that can please all sides of the discussion. Clipse are one of the few groups that successfully and consistently caters to both sides of rap’s splintered psyche, simultaneously serving the scene with upbeat bangers that get the club poppin’ & subwoofers rattlin’ while crafting clever quotable compositions deserving of repeated headphone submersions. Though their preceding official albums Lord Willin’ (2002) & Hell Hath No Fury (2006) made bigger splashes commercially, 2009’s Til The Casket Drops is surely no slouch, a gem which deserves to be revisited with fresh ears – good thing Get On Down has given it the proper treatment it deserves with its first-ever vinyl pressing!
Til The Casket Drops was a departure from the duo of Malice & Pusha T’s previous works in that it was their first LP not completely produced by The Neptunes. However, the celebrated team who brought us ‘Grinding’ & ‘Mr. Me Too’ still helmed 8 of the album’s 13 tracks, thus dominating the soundscapes and aesthetic of the album anyway. With the remaining beats handled by Hitmen Sean C & LV (Jay-Z, Big Pun, Ghostface) and Aftermath’s DJ Khalil (Kendrick Lamar, Aloe Blacc, Eminem) clearly Clipse stock hadn’t lowered in the game. While boasting notable vocal features from Kanye West, Pharrell, Cam’ron, Keri Hilson, Yo Gotti & their Re-Up Gang affiliate Ab-Liva, Casket Drops leaves ample space for the core emcee duo of Pusha & Malice to shine in the spotlight, with verses revolving around each other succinctly in-synch and bonded by an exceptional creative rhythm only biological brothers could share.
Clipse have always delighted in dualities, juxtapositions and contradictions, unabashedly celebrating the capitalistic lifestyle and the grind as the kings of ‘coke-rap’, while taking hard looks at society’s mores and those of their own individual journeys. We hear Malice’s eventual transition to No Malice taking form on this album as he found religion, warning others who might follow in his path on ‘Footsteps’: “don’t let my wrongs give you the right of way/ to emulate my past escaping the law’s grasp” while refusing to be pinned down in one lane: “it weights on my conscience and I hate conscious rap”. Meanwhile Pusha T continues his lyrical ascent into the King Push persona with bars like “pompous motherfucker, look what them jewels made me/ I’m only finding comfort in knowing you can’t replace me/ What a thing to say, but what am I to do/ I’m role-playing a conscious nigga and true is true/ Cocaine aside, all of the bloggers behooved/ My critics finally have a verse of mine to jerk off to” decisively on album opener “Freedom”.
Since it dropped, the Clipse have stated that Casket… is their final album together while subsequently alluding to the possibility of an eventual reunion. Only time will tell, but until then it’s time to re-celebrate one of hip hop’s most dynamic duos by hearing Til The Casket Drops in a whole new light with its long-overdue, first time on vinyl pressing via Get On Down featuring all 13 original tracks on wax and cover art by the legendary KAWS! It’s kinda like a big deal…

A resurgent Dog Meat Records is thrilled and proud to release a new album by a resurgent rock'n'roller and an old friend, PAT TODD and his band THE RANKOUTSIDERS. The seventh album by LA's finest rock'n'roll band comes some 36 years after the label's first dalliances with Pat, back when he fronted the legendary Lazy Cowgirls. The new album shows that Pat has lost none of his spark, that his voice and songwriting have only gotten stronger, and that he's got another killer band behind him, one that mixes classic '70s punk rock roots with country, blues and rock'n'roll in a manner that sits somewhere between Exile on Main Street and LAMF. The new album is highlighted as usual by Pat Todd's fantastic songs. A prolific writer with an eye on life in the margins - whether they be in small towns or the big sprawling city he has called home for 40 years - Todd routinely hits the mark where youth and the advancement of age find common ground in alienation and wilfulness. Pat knows that rock’n’roll is not necessarily a young person's game, and nor is it a glamourous one; the name he gave this band accurately points to where he and they are coming from. New originals like 'All We Have To Show', the horn-riffing rocker 'Living In A World of Hurt' and the raucous country-folk punker 'Goodbye to the World' are up there with anything he has ever written, and the Rankoutsiders play them even better than ever. Indeed, a couple of choice covers - a version of 'Hi Ho Silver Lining', sung by guitarist Nick Alexander and cut before Jeff Beck's unfortunate passing, and a version of David Johansen's old heartbreaker 'Donna' cut before word of Martin Scorsese’s Johansen documentary got out - shows by comparison to the original versions just how well these guys can crank it out. *** For over 20 years - from the early 80s to the early 00’s- Pat Todd fronted the undisputed Los Angeles roots-punk kings: THE LAZY COWGIRLS. Having landed in LA from the mid-west-meets-the south outpost of Vincennes, Indiana early in the decade, the Cowgirls sparked a new LA punk scene; their live album Radio Cowgirl was the first release on scene prime mover SFTRI -and ultimately inspired a resurgence of classic 1976 Ramones/Saints/ Heartbreakers-style punk that stretched across the US into Europe, Japan and elsewhere, inspiring bands like the New Bomb Turks, Oblivions, Teengenerate, Onyas and countless others. THE LAZY COWGIRLS were but a memory in 2006 when PAT TODD and the RANKOUTSIDERS’ 28 song double-disc debut, The Outskirts of Your Heart was released. Where most bands would have exhausted their creative gas to fumes with such an ambitious first release, this was only the beginning for the RANKOUTSIDERS. Prior to the new album Sons of the City Ditch, the RANKOUTSIDERS have released six full-length albums (yes, some are double discs) and over a dozen singles and EPs and have more releases queued up. Each and every one of them is a testament to Pat’s personal vision of raw, high energy rock’n’roll infused with elements of country and rhythm & blues, and documentary proof that the RANKOUTSIDERS are one of the hottest rock'n'roll bands on the planet. Indeed, it must be said the RANKOUTSIDERS truly are a band: energetically flanking Pat stage left is long-time guitarist and vocalist Kevin Keller; to the right is guitarist and founding member, Nick Alexander- the cool, calm and collected eye of the storm; bassist Steven Vigh holds the lower frequencies in check with steadfast authority, pushing the chorus to the next harmonic level, while drummer Walt Phelan drives the engine hard while keeping the band on the rails.

A resurgent Dog Meat Records is thrilled and proud to release a new album by a resurgent rock'n'roller and an old friend, PAT TODD and his band THE RANKOUTSIDERS. The seventh album by LA's finest rock'n'roll band comes some 36 years after the label's first dalliances with Pat, back when he fronted the legendary Lazy Cowgirls. The new album shows that Pat has lost none of his spark, that his voice and songwriting have only gotten stronger, and that he's got another killer band behind him, one that mixes classic '70s punk rock roots with country, blues and rock'n'roll in a manner that sits somewhere between Exile on Main Street and LAMF. The new album is highlighted as usual by Pat Todd's fantastic songs. A prolific writer with an eye on life in the margins - whether they be in small towns or the big sprawling city he has called home for 40 years - Todd routinely hits the mark where youth and the advancement of age find common ground in alienation and wilfulness. Pat knows that rock’n’roll is not necessarily a young person's game, and nor is it a glamourous one; the name he gave this band accurately points to where he and they are coming from. New originals like 'All We Have To Show', the horn-riffing rocker 'Living In A World of Hurt' and the raucous country-folk punker 'Goodbye to the World' are up there with anything he has ever written, and the Rankoutsiders play them even better than ever. Indeed, a couple of choice covers - a version of 'Hi Ho Silver Lining', sung by guitarist Nick Alexander and cut before Jeff Beck's unfortunate passing, and a version of David Johansen's old heartbreaker 'Donna' cut before word of Martin Scorsese’s Johansen documentary got out - shows by comparison to the original versions just how well these guys can crank it out. *** For over 20 years - from the early 80s to the early 00’s- Pat Todd fronted the undisputed Los Angeles roots-punk kings: THE LAZY COWGIRLS. Having landed in LA from the mid-west-meets-the south outpost of Vincennes, Indiana early in the decade, the Cowgirls sparked a new LA punk scene; their live album Radio Cowgirl was the first release on scene prime mover SFTRI -and ultimately inspired a resurgence of classic 1976 Ramones/Saints/ Heartbreakers-style punk that stretched across the US into Europe, Japan and elsewhere, inspiring bands like the New Bomb Turks, Oblivions, Teengenerate, Onyas and countless others. THE LAZY COWGIRLS were but a memory in 2006 when PAT TODD and the RANKOUTSIDERS’ 28 song double-disc debut, The Outskirts of Your Heart was released. Where most bands would have exhausted their creative gas to fumes with such an ambitious first release, this was only the beginning for the RANKOUTSIDERS. Prior to the new album Sons of the City Ditch, the RANKOUTSIDERS have released six full-length albums (yes, some are double discs) and over a dozen singles and EPs and have more releases queued up. Each and every one of them is a testament to Pat’s personal vision of raw, high energy rock’n’roll infused with elements of country and rhythm & blues, and documentary proof that the RANKOUTSIDERS are one of the hottest rock'n'roll bands on the planet. Indeed, it must be said the RANKOUTSIDERS truly are a band: energetically flanking Pat stage left is long-time guitarist and vocalist Kevin Keller; to the right is guitarist and founding member, Nick Alexander- the cool, calm and collected eye of the storm; bassist Steven Vigh holds the lower frequencies in check with steadfast authority, pushing the chorus to the next harmonic level, while drummer Walt Phelan drives the engine hard while keeping the band on the rails.

The female-led discodelic soul band Say She She, named as a silent nod to Nile Rodgers (C’est chi-chi!: It's Chic!”), release their sophomore album ‘Silver’ on the heels of an epic break-out year that grows brighter by the day.

The three strong voices of Piya Malik (El Michels Affair staple feature, and former backing singer for Chicano Batman), Sabrina Mileo Cunningham and Nya Gazelle Brown front the band. This harmonizing trio was formed in a classic New York tale of friends that met by following the music: the downtown dancefloors, through the

Lower East Side floorboards and up to the rooftops of Harlem.

‘Silver’ was entirely written and recorded live to tape at Killion Sound studio in North Hollywood earlier this year and produced by Sergio Rios (of Orgone). While these analog recording techniques help root Say She She’s sound in a bedrock of tonal warmth that only tape can achieve, it is also their process of cutting the track

in the moment and capturing the magic of communal creativity that has seen their sound described as “a glorious overload of joyful elation and spiritual elevation” (MOJO) and “infused with the wonky post-disco spirit of early '80s NYC” (The Guardian).

Silver, the element, is known as the metal of self-confidence and the mirror of the soul. With that, the 16-song double-LP projects not only their growth in writing with confidence, but also reflects a deeper exploration into their punk-chic, femmeforward sensibility.

Ultimately, ‘Silver’ oozes with quirk and adventure and embraces the multifaceted nature of what it means to be a modern femme. The She She's fully embrace their role as beauticians, actively reminding people of the inherent beauty in the world. They skillfully employ double entendres and humor to encourage open dialogue and fearlessly address important matters that demand attention.

Die Musikerinnen der Discodelic-Soul-Band Say She She, die ihren Namen als stille Anspielung auf Nile Rodgers ("C'est chi-chi!: It's Chic!") gewählt hat, veröffentlicht ihr zweites Album "Silver" auf den Spuren eines epischen Durchbruchsjahres, das von Tag zu Tag heller wird. Die drei starken Stimmen von Piya Malik (Stammgast bei El Michels Affair und ehemalige Backgroundsängerin von Chicano Batman), Sabrina Mileo Cunningham und Nya GazelleBrown sind die Frontfrauen der Band. Das harmonierende Trio entstand in einer klassischen New Yorker Geschichte von Freunden, die sich auf dem Weg zur Musik kennenlernten: auf den Tanzflächen der Innenstadt, auf den Dielen der Lower East Side und auf den Dächern von Harlem. "Silver" wurde Anfang des Jahres im Killion Sound Studio in North Hollywood geschrieben und live auf Band aufgenommen und von Sergio Rios (von Orgone) produziert. Während diese analogen Aufnahmetechniken dazu beitragen, Say She She's Sound in einem Fundament aus klanglicher Wärme zu verankern, das nur mit Tonband erreicht werden kann, ist es auch ihr Prozess, den Track im Moment zu produzieren und die Magie der gemeinschaftlichen Kreativität einzufangen, die dazu geführt hat, dass ihr Sound als "eine glorreiche Überladung aus freudigem Enthusiasmus und spiritueller Erhebung" (MOJO) und "durchdrungen vom schrägen Post-Disco-Geist der frühen 80er Jahre in NYC" (The Guardian) beschrieben wurde. Silver, das Element, ist bekannt als das Metall des Selbstbewusstseins und der Spiegel der Seele. Die 16-Song-Doppel-LP zeigt nicht nur, dass die Band an Selbstvertrauen gewonnen hat, sondern spiegelt auch eine tiefere Erkundung ihrer punkig-schicken, weiblich-vorwärts gerichteten Sensibilität wider.