Cerca:mach one

Our 20th celebration year continues with a very special comeback! It’s exactly ten years now since the last Ben La Desh release on our label, his sublime “Stellar Talk EP” hit big waves and together with the “Midnight Rendez-Vous EP” from 2012 he cemented himself in the lo-fi deep space house scene as an artist to look out for, no one produced deep house like he did back then. After a longer break from releasing music he is back and we think stronger as ever, with analogue gear and well curated sampling and live field recording we present you his “Fine Rise EP”.

The opener “Heel Goed” is an amazing track with that distinctive 909 beat and DX bass driven “La Desh” flavour and a truly wonderful vocal sample from a 90s TV commercial, hilariously funny and brilliant at the same time! We can’t wait to see the faces of people, especially on the Dutch dancefloors, when they try to figure out and discover what the ladies are talking about! Second A side track is the super funky “Lift Adrift” that flanges itself to outer space, etherical with chopped break beats and various percussive and rhythmic Pearl Syncussion layers running through effect pedals, Lift Adrift!

On the other side we start out with the deep title track “Fine Rise”. Here Ben treats us again to his trademark spaced out effects driven sound and on top a killer bass line and synth lead melody, reminiscent of the golden age of (good) trance music. Followed by the break beat gem that is “Asanti”, cautiously cut up breaks and layered machine drums with bubbly Syncussion sounds, rain drops falling down on different surfaces recorded in a garden in the French Drôme and processed African Kalimba. Did we already say Etherical? It is!
Closing out this great new record is the ambient piece “Expanding Signal”, an analogue tune that consists of field recordings and deep dubby chords, a building Juno pulse, swooshes and again a profound DX bassline, think of “Sun Electric” or “The Orb”.

Enjoy this one and play it loud on the dance floors or silently in your bedroom, it works everywhere as far as we are concerned!

All tracks mastered by Salz Mastering in Cologne. Photography & Art by Break 3000.

Dib’s first appearance on dailysession.

Side A1 starts with a nice deep house influenced by 90’s Chicago house, inherited from Mr. fingers. Silky synth pad melodies with simple but effective drum machine programing are powerful enough to lose your mind on the dancefloor.

The second track on side A is the funky synth bass-driven house, punctuated by melancholy analog synth sounds.

You are dancing with your eyes closed in the club at 3AM. Side B track 1 is the acid house with ambient synth pads swelling over a minimal hypnotic 303 bassline.

The last track is the minimal deep house with a deeper soul quality. This one will melt the dance floor.

This EP is faithful to the original house music sound yet still sounds ruthlessly modern.

"The Course of the Inevitable 3: Pieces of My Pain" marks a triumphant return for rapper Lloyd Banks, as he delves deep into the intricacies of his life and experiences, unveiling raw emotions and profound wisdom. In this highly anticipated album, Banks collaborates with legendary artists such as Method Man, Cormega, 38 Spesh, Vado, Dave East, and Tony Yayo, creating a powerful narrative that resonates with listeners.



In this musical journey, Banks weaves together a compelling storyline, sharing pieces of his own pain and struggles, inviting listeners to connect with his authenticity. With Method Man's signature lyrical prowess, Cormega's poetic finesse, and the raw energy of 38 Spesh, the album boasts a stellar lineup of features that enhance its impact.



Banks' sharp lyricism and introspective storytelling shine throughout the album, exploring themes of resilience, triumph over adversity, and the complexities of life. Each track serves as a piece of his soul, revealing layers of vulnerability and strength. With the collaborative efforts of his fellow artists, "The Course of the Inevitable 3: Pieces of My Pain" delivers an immersive and powerful listening experience, solidifying Lloyd Banks' position as a master in the rap game and the one and only Punch Line King.

GRAMMY award-winning, multi-platinum rock band Kings of Leon are coming back big with their 9th full-length studio album, Can We Please Have Fun. As the title suggests, it’s a document of one of this era’s great rock & roll bands cutting loose, trying new things, and, yes, having some fun. Recorded at Dark Horse studio and produced with new collaborator Kid Harpoon (Harry Styles, Florence + the Machine) the album sees a new side of Kings of Leon. On the new album, the band harkens back to their gritty origins while simultaneously finding new gears. It’s the sound of a band unified in vision and purpose, freed from any expectations, and the album the band says they’ve always wanted to make.

"Post-Apocalypto' finds Tenacious D thrust into a world of complete and utter destruction following the drop of an atomic bomb. Surviving the attack in classic cinematic fashion (a good old imperishable 1950s refrigerator), the duo quickly learns that new forms of evil have spawned from the blast. One thing becomes apparent for humanity to prevail, Tenacious D must save the world". Standard Black LP vinyl re-issue catalogue campaign. Spring UK tour dates. Promo & marketing activity around the catalogue & live dates.

Glasgow’s Somewhere Press return with their inaugural vinyl release, a new album from Madelyn Byrd aka Slowfoam. Mining the seam between ecology and technology, Byrd offsets syrupy, dissociated electronics with sparse acoustic instrumentation and expressive field recordings.

The polyrhythmic pulse of the natural world surges through Byrd’s productions, and though the sounds are mostly electronic and strictly metered, a landscape teeming with insects, birds, and wildlife fills the horizon. We’re languidly ushered through the gates on the opening 'Enlightened Smudge on the Machine', juxtaposing glassy tones with flute (from Berlin-based sound artist Diane Barbé) and skittering percussion that could have been lifted straight off Björk’s 'Vespertine'. "No traffic, under the stem," a stoic voice muses while sounds dissolve into waterlogged ambience. There are hints of vintage West Coast new age music, but Byrds' over-arching theme is one of a contemporary digital reality slowly harmonising with its distant, bucolic past.

Field recordist Pablo Diserens provides some of the album's most arcane material, handing over environmental recordings of sulphur pools, Arctic terns and glacial streams. The lengthy 'Divine Morpho, Shimmering' deploys a swarm of insects, forming a looped, uneven rhythm that counters Byrd's pulsing electronics. Choral stems mesh with uncanny strings, blurring the line that separates artificial from organic sound sources. Byrd uses mutation and reconstruction as a form of "speculative melting" to bring us closer to utopia. On 'Like Phantom Memories In The Slinking Storm’, one of the album's most levitational moments, they tease twangy harp-lyre plucks into dubbed-out smudges, eventually given a reprise on 'Grief Rituals' where the same riffs are stretched into slower phrases, queered against giddy, xenharmonic drones.

Bird calls and tremulous exotica mark the brilliant 'Fragrant Dusking', and ‘Soft Body Virisdescence' takes us to a gurgling, kaleidoscopic climax, with electronic processes thrust into the foreground. 'Of Data & Delight' distills all the album’s sonic elements into a sort of delirious fever dream, using pitched animal calls to signal sensuality. It's not ambient, exactly, even if it shares space with the 3XL crew's sludgy eroticism, and it's not wholeheartedly electro-acoustic either. The record exists at a place of convergence, as one era wrestles with a new dawn, and real life glimpses high fantasy.

Alex Andrikopolous AKA Lex (Athens) released his brilliant debut album Waving in 2022 on Leng and he now returns with an EP combining fine remixes of tracks from Waving alongside two new previously unheard cuts.

The remixes are undeniably special. Fittingly, the EP begins with the first of these, a sensationally sun-soaked revision of one of Andrikopolous’s most Balearic moments – previous single ‘Punta Allen’ – by former Nuphonic fusionists and FAR label founders Faze Action. The Lee brothers’ take is one of those sunset-friendly workouts that wraps glistening guitar licks, steel pan style motifs, Lex’s gorgeous lead lines, hazy electric piano solos and life-affirming keyboard riffs around rolling nu-disco beats and a new rubbery bassline courtesy of Robin Lee himself. It has the feel of a pool-side anthem in the making.

Just as potent is the typically quirky and hard-to-pigeonhole revision of ‘Prezend’ by Manchester maverick Ruf Dug. Here he offers up a genuinely revolutionary rework, re-imaging the track as a sparse-but-colourful fusion of vintage acid house bass, saucer-eyed piano riffs, dubbed-out synth sounds, jacking lo-fi drum machine beats and squelchy TB-303 tweaks. While fresh and undeniably contemporary, the remix has an alluringly nostalgic, retro-futurist vibe.

Clustered around these two top-notch revisions is a pair of previously unreleased Lex originals. He joins forces with regular collaborator Locke once more on ‘Libre De Amor’, an infectious chunk of, low-slung dub disco marked out by weighty bass, jammed-out electric piano motifs, spacey pads, intergalactic effects and mazy synth solos. Dotted with additional percussion hits and echoing female vocal snippets, it’s one of the pair’s most potent dancefloor workouts of recent times.

To round off a rock-solid EP, the Athens-based veteran blurs the boundaries between stripped-back, late-80s house nostalgia and nu-disco. ‘Super Awake’ boasts cowbell-sporting Chicago house beats and acid house inspired bass, on to which he’s layered all manner of colourful synth sounds, jangly piano stabs and spacey electronics. Throw in some typically immersive chords and progressively more psychedelic TB-303 motifs, and you have a genuinely triumphant conclusion to a formidably floor-focused EP.

Portland based act Dancing Plague has been a steady presence in the dark/cold electronic music scene for quite a few years now.

Since 2016 Conor Knowles’ solo project has been putting out one constant flow of independent releases on multiple formats such as vinyl LPs, EPs, tapes and CDs, creating one sonic palette rich with Ebm, goth, industrial and synth influences.

On their 5th studio album, Dancing Plague continues to flesh out and perfect their unique brand of crushing darkwave.

Elogium explores themes of loss, regret, rebirth and growth coupled with throbbing basslines, rave synths, and pounding drums. Knowles balances aggressive waves of electronics with enough pop sensibilities and catchy hooks to be inviting to those new to the genre.

His skills can be clearly appreciated on tracks like the first single Fading Forms which explores the somber feeling of the years passing you by. Knowles’ emotive baritone crooning paints a melancholic picture of the slow fading of time as you feel like you’re fading with it. The words fall like snow onto cold fields of pulsing 80s synths and pounding drum machine rhythms that bring forth nostalgic familiarity but feel fresh at the same time.

Fans of classic icons such as Depeche Mode, Ministry, Nine Inch Nails as well as contemporary torchbearers Cold Cave and Kontravoid do not sleep on this.
Plenty of disturbing beauty to be found in the depths of the underground

Pull the Rope, the new record by Ibibio Sound Machine, casts the Eno Williams and Max Grunhard-led outfit in a new light. The hope, joy, and sexiness of their music remain, but, further honing the edge of their acclaimed 2022 album Electricity, the connection they aim to foster has shifted venues from the sunny buoyancy of a sunlit festival to a sweat-soaked, all-night dance club. Williams and Grunhard attribute this shift to a matter of collaborators, recording Pull the Rope with Sheffield-based producer Ross Orton (Arctic Monkeys, M.I.A.) over the course of two weeks. The way the pair wrote songs changed significantly_rather than Eno penning lyrics to music generated by Max and company's jamming, Orton started with Eno and Max writing together before adding the band. With less time in the studio and a new way of considering how they built songs, the duo found making decisions about Pull the Rope's sound quicker and more instinctual than before. "Ross is from Sheffield, which has an edgier, more industrial vibe than London," Grunhard explains. "He hears things differently than us, is more grounded in rave and grungier sounds, and knew when to add drums or push the instrumentation more. It was very different for us, but it lends itself to where Ibibio Sound Machine is going." In melding their songwriting process, Grunhard and Williams have, impossibly, pulled the trick of making Ibibio Sound Machine a tighter band than ever before, building out from their core in a way that highlights the electrifying group of musicians they play with. Rather than recording with the full band in the room, Pull the Rope was sculpted, elements added and shaped by Grunhard, Williams, and Orton along the way. As a result, Pull the Rope is a nimble, sleek machine that's thrilling from the first note of the opening title track, Eno's otherworldly voice and PK Ambrose's throbbing bass driving through a kaleidoscopic array of house, post-punk, funk, Afrobeat and disco, bangers and ballads, making an argument for unity that begins on the dancefloor. "We are the places we grew up, the places we've been, and the people we've met along the way," Williams says. "Hopping around the globe, we've found that people are fundamentally the same_they're people. Opposing sides push and pull, but there is an alternative to war, violence, and suffering." Lead single "Got to Be Who U Are" literally globetrots, name checking locales across the world that would feel disparate were it not for how well-traveled they are. Eno growing up in the musical melting pot of the Ibibio region of Nigeria and Max being a conservatory-trained musician from Australia, one could call their meeting in London and formation of Ibibio Sound Machine predestined. "Mama Say" and "Let My Yes Be Yes" touch themes of female empowerment. They're indicative of the band's depth as they push further into the electronic; "Mama Say" hits notes of electropop while "Let My Yes Be Yes" fuses electro to Afrobeat. Ibibio Sound Machine have always imbued their music with political consciousness, and the light that shines through in Williams' vocals and voice has never felt more necessary. The sound of Pull the Rope, then, is hope in darkness, bliss in spite of bleakness. Once again, Ibibio Sound Machine are here to provide the soundtrack to the best night of your life, and the better world to come.

Chris Whitley was an artist with his feet planted in two very different worlds. On one side was a guitarist/ songwriter who grew up with the Delta and Chicago blues of Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, with some Bob Dylan thrown in. But at the same time, he was hanging out with NYC Lower East Side avant-gardeists like Arto Lindsey and Michael Beinhorn during his early ‘80s formative years. And it is precisely that tension between tradition and experimentation that makes his music so interesting and unique among “roots rock” artists. That tension is palpable on 1995’s Din of Ecstasy, his second record; Whitley abandons the acoustic blues-rock of his Living with the Law debut in favor of an album, that at first listen, owes a lot to the early-‘90s grunge movement. But Din of Ecstasy is hardly a johnny-come-lately to that sound; those are some truly weird tunings and chords being played by Whitley. It’s almost like he’s reinventing grunge in his own fashion, soaking it in blues and seasoning it with dissonance and feedback. Add some dark, druggy lyrics to the mix and Din of Ecstasy takes its place as one of the decade’s most adventurous albums, a cult classic way overdue for a vinyl release. Limited edition “clear smoke” vinyl, nestled inside a printed inner sleeve. Don’t sleep on this one

Pieces of debris washed up on a coastline shrouded in mist. Gratification comes from an eternal search for solace. Locked away at the top of a lighthouse somewhere on an unnamed isle, Grady Steele broadcasts to those within the beacon’s reach. A soundsystem built of driftwood and salvaged car stereos is pieced together with precision and laboriously dragged to the top of the obelisk. A timeless fugue state spent playing arpeggios on a Spanish guitar, the PA system ebbing out phasing loops across benevolent waters. Layering, occasionally faulting, stopping, recording, starting again. The phosphorescent glow atop the obelisk is ever-present.

Perhaps the first release on Archaic Vaults to feature (at least prominent) use of the guitar, these six compositions feel sketch-like and yet burned into the retina, like that of a passing car’s headlights leaving an impressionistic imprint of the source material. To mention this is Grady Steele’s debut release is not to imply he is new to working with sound, having been the proprietor of one of London’s most important soundsystems for the last decade. An obsession with fidelity can be heard and and at times deliberately perverted amongst the body of work. The warm and melancholic tones of the Spanish guitar evident in almost all songs are juxtaposed with various collaged material, including what sounds like hastily captured iPhone recordings and drum machines neglected at the back of the studio, dragged out for one or two stubborn, lurching takes and then once more committed to storage. The 90s voice-imitator pads glowing with undulance are reminiscent of John T. Gast’s early studio takes, and the synergy and precision in guitar layering could lend a clue as to what Fuck Buttons would have sounded like had they sold off their studio equipment for a couple of wooden 12-stringers. Stare long enough at those Windows 95 screensaver-esque rolling hills, and one might witness some miniscule movement in the growth.

Music composed and arranged by Grady Steele Painting by Antoine Larrera Mastered by Owen Pratt Design by Severin Black

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

Karate Boogaloo aus Melbourne, Australien präsentieren mit Stolz "Hold Your Horses", ihre fesselnde neue Langspielplatte mit originalen Instrumentalstücken. Henry Jenkins, Hudson Whitlock, Callum Riley und Darvid Thor sind das Herzstück von Melbournes aufkeimender Instrumental-Soul-Bewegung und machen seit ihrer Schulzeit gemeinsam Musik. Die vier Freunde lernten sich in der Highschool kennen und haben die großen Instrumental-Bands wie Booker T & The MG's und The Meters genau studiert. "Hold Your Horses" ist Karate Boogaloos eigene Interpretation von instrumentalem Funk. Eine echte Reise vom Anfang bis zum Ende, bei der jedes Stück nahtlos in das nächste übergeht und eine Welt mit kinematischen Momenten, skurrilen Melodien und unheimlichen Dissonanzen erschafft, und von unbestreitbarem Super Heavyfunk untermauert wird. Alle Songs für "Hold Your Horses" wurden gemeinsam im Studio geschrieben, ohne dass eines der Mitglieder vorgefertigtes Material einbrachte. Es ist ein Prozess, der speziell darauf ausgelegt ist, die Stärken der Band und ihre Beziehung zueinander zu maximieren. Um das Erlebnis noch zu verstärken, erzeugt das LP-Cover (entworfen von dem in Melbourne lebenden visuellen Künstler Drez) ein interaktives optisches Kunsterlebnis, wenn die Innenhülle aus dem Umschlag entfernt wird. Karate Boogaloo ist ein Quartett, das mehr ist als die Summe seiner Teile; und die Teile allein sind sehr, sehr gut.

TSR are a trio of Swedish musical mentalists made up of Tomas Nordstrom, Fredrik Askebris .......... & Otto. This crazed technologically berserk band of electronic wizards under Otto’s command relentlessly conjure up thee most brilliant, silliest, toughest, most dance bootable funky shizzle on this highway of existence.

Continuing with the ‘Limited As Fuck’ series of releases, on our fiercely independent techno label based in Scotland, we present the more than welcome return to the label by those Swedish farting techno wasp keepers themselves with their very first ever album, and a double vinyl one at that.

Along-with the vocal talents of he that should be King, Tunnan, and the mystical musical mayhem of fellow Swede Joseph Garber, they’ve put together a cooler than cool selection of music that’s even cooler than the contents of a fully stocked ice cream truck ……… or your pants (if you just happened to keep your ice cream there) that gets more squawking, hand pumping and more noise crackin’ than a Spanish whip.

This is completely over the top shoogle, woogle and boogaloo boppin’ techno mind control shenanigans that’s waiting in store for you so ‘Don’t’ blame us if your feet fall off from dancin’ like pigs in heat.

WARNING: BOONCE YER BONCE ONE TOO MANY TIMES AND YOU’LL TURN INTO AN UNRULY UNDERWORLD HAMMERHEAD

Backwater Collage ist das erste Soloalbum von James Hoare, das er unter dem Namen Penny Arcade veröffentlicht. Dem ein oder anderen wird er als Musiker/Songwriter bei Bands wie Veronica Falls, The Proper Ornaments oder Ultimate Painting bereits über den Weg gelaufen sein. Backwater Collage ist in der Tat ein Album bei dem die Gesamtheit der Songs als Ganzes wirken und nicht einzelne Songs die anderen überstrahlen oder ausblenden. Vom ersten bis zum letzten Ton hält die Stimmung und begleitet den Hörer auf seiner ganz persönlichen Reise. Die elf vertraut klingenden Songs, die das Album ausmachen, sind in bester Homerecording-Tradition entstanden, aber dennoch (behutsam) produziert. James entwickelt und entfaltet reine, unaufgeregte Melodien, in denen sich seine sanfte, melancholische Stimme mit dem weichen, warmen Gesang von Nathalia Bruno vermischt. Angedeutete Gitarrensoli unterbrechen manchmal die klare, ungeschliffene musikalische Linie. Der langjährige Freund Max Claps hat Keyboard-Parts beigesteuert, die die minimale Nostalgie der Tracks aufgreift und dabei jeglichem tränenreichen Pathos entgegenwirken. Um diesen homogenen Sound, diese Sounddichte zu erreichen hat James sich Zeit gelassen. Das er seine Songs aus verschiedenen Aufnahmesessions retten musste, die von einer Reihe von Missgeschicken geprägt waren, an die er, wie er amüsiert zugibt, gewöhnt ist: kaputte Multitracks, versagende Tonbandmaschinen oder selten verfügbare Schlagzeuger, die in der Hauptstadt leben, kam ihm dabei sicherlich zu Hilfe. Ähnlich wie Jack Name oder Syd Barrett - nur weniger psychedelisch - sitzt Hoare auf dem schwarz-weißen Sofa von Velvet Underground und verleiht seinem Album eine unterirdische Note. Zeitweise unruhig, aber leichtfüßig, ohne unnötige Effekte, tritt die Platte in die Fußstapfen einer weniger lauten, aber ebenso rohen und schmucklosen Jesus and Mary Chain. Mit Backwater Collage, allein am Ruder unter einem stürmischen Himmel, lädt James Hoare seine Hörer ein, es sich bei einer Tasse Tee gemütlich zu machen.

Backwater Collage ist das erste Soloalbum von James Hoare, das er unter dem Namen Penny Arcade veröffentlicht. Dem ein oder anderen wird er als Musiker/Songwriter bei Bands wie Veronica Falls, The Proper Ornaments oder Ultimate Painting bereits über den Weg gelaufen sein. Backwater Collage ist in der Tat ein Album bei dem die Gesamtheit der Songs als Ganzes wirken und nicht einzelne Songs die anderen überstrahlen oder ausblenden. Vom ersten bis zum letzten Ton hält die Stimmung und begleitet den Hörer auf seiner ganz persönlichen Reise. Die elf vertraut klingenden Songs, die das Album ausmachen, sind in bester Homerecording-Tradition entstanden, aber dennoch (behutsam) produziert. James entwickelt und entfaltet reine, unaufgeregte Melodien, in denen sich seine sanfte, melancholische Stimme mit dem weichen, warmen Gesang von Nathalia Bruno vermischt. Angedeutete Gitarrensoli unterbrechen manchmal die klare, ungeschliffene musikalische Linie. Der langjährige Freund Max Claps hat Keyboard-Parts beigesteuert, die die minimale Nostalgie der Tracks aufgreift und dabei jeglichem tränenreichen Pathos entgegenwirken. Um diesen homogenen Sound, diese Sounddichte zu erreichen hat James sich Zeit gelassen. Das er seine Songs aus verschiedenen Aufnahmesessions retten musste, die von einer Reihe von Missgeschicken geprägt waren, an die er, wie er amüsiert zugibt, gewöhnt ist: kaputte Multitracks, versagende Tonbandmaschinen oder selten verfügbare Schlagzeuger, die in der Hauptstadt leben, kam ihm dabei sicherlich zu Hilfe. Ähnlich wie Jack Name oder Syd Barrett - nur weniger psychedelisch - sitzt Hoare auf dem schwarz-weißen Sofa von Velvet Underground und verleiht seinem Album eine unterirdische Note. Zeitweise unruhig, aber leichtfüßig, ohne unnötige Effekte, tritt die Platte in die Fußstapfen einer weniger lauten, aber ebenso rohen und schmucklosen Jesus and Mary Chain. Mit Backwater Collage, allein am Ruder unter einem stürmischen Himmel, lädt James Hoare seine Hörer ein, es sich bei einer Tasse Tee gemütlich zu machen.

Whether you’re on a journey towards self acceptance, or locking yourself away for days, it’s safe to say the human experience can be an emotional rollercoaster; GAMI GANG explores the highs and lows, and all the twists and turns in between. In similar fashion, joyous and anthemic tunes find themselves winding their way into their somber and soft spoken counterparts, swerving through explosive bridges along the journey. Throughout manic momentum shifts, the ride slows down to make way for moments of clarity. Happiness and innocence are sprinkled in with displays of darkness or arrogance, and most of the time we exist in the middle. However, those unexpected jumps of adrenaline are what make this ride enticing. It’s human nature to get back on, and feel that rush one more time.













[m] 13. [spoons rattling]