Suche:magic pie

12” paddling pool blue vinyl, is an edition of 500. CD Digifile. Following the runaway success of their critically acclaimed 2021 second album Contender, the question for fast-rising London four-piece Fightmilk was always going to be “what next?” With a tight indie-pop sound that defined their early recordings, the answer was obvious to a band who seem hellbent on the notion of evolve or die… The band originally formed in 2015 in a Brixton pub garden by Lily and Alex, who had both, separately, just been dumped and thought being in an angry punk band would cheer them up. Then they found Nick and Healey to hold the rhythm down and make them sound good. With three albums under their belt, they’ve perfected their chaotic, melodic brand of joy and rage-filled pop with full-throated yelling and sparkling guitar riffs as their trademark. They’ve graduated from angsty whippersnappers in their mid-twenties to overgrown teenage 30-somethings with mild ongoing back and shoulder pain. Their previous 2 albums Not With That Attitude (2018) & Contender (2021) marked them out as an ambitious and rising prospect, and now on their forthcoming new album No Souvenirs the band eschew their former Britpop ties and edge further into DIY punk and heavier rock influences to reveal a leaner, meaner, more abrasive side to their cathartic lo-fi anthems. Whilst collectively diving into their passion for Jimmy Eat World, frontwoman Lily Rae made a conscious decision to strengthen her “big loud yell” with influence from Alicia Bognanno (Bully), Nat Foster (Press Club), and Missy Dabice (Mannequin Pussy). “My voice is the biggest it’s ever been and I’m constantly thrilled when people are surprised at how loud I am, considering I’m so small in stature,” she grins. “Lyrically I always look to Bruce Springsteen for inspiration but I also really enjoyed the angsty candour of Sour by Olivia Rodrigo, and Kacey Musgraves’ impeccable one-liners.” There are a few genre experiments on the record—Yo La Tengo in ‘Paddling Pool’, ‘Canines’ is part The Strokes and part Neu!, and ‘Back From Tour’ was heavily influenced by long term friends Johnny Foreigner. “You could probably make a case for ‘Inferno’ having a bit of Counting Crows to it, but we were never writing to emulate,” explains guitarist Alex. “The references and touchstones just happened along the way. As far as we’re concerned, they just sound like Fightmilk - and that’s a really nice place to be nearly a decade in.” “That said, we’ve also been REALLY picky with the songs that made it onto the album - there’s probably an-other album’s worth of songs that didn’t feel right, even if we loved them. We got really good at finding the “magic thing” in each song that made it work.” Spilling over with candid lyrics about death, doomed love, and dog bites, framed by endless punk energy and the kind of full-throated riff-rock that sounds just at home in a giant stadium as it does in a sticky-floored toilet bar, No Souvenirs is a triumphant return from the band, who are equally enthused by the album. “I only realised after we put the songs together how personal to me this album was,” explains Lily. “Not just because I’m writing about extremely specific sitcom episodes in my life (getting fired from bridesmaid duty, being bitten on the arse by a dog, being relentlessly asked when I’m going to have kids), but because whilst we were making it, I turned 30. It’s a significant age for women, especially in music, because aside from being something called a ‘geriatric millennial’, there’s an unspoken rule that there’s a cut-off point for you to have ‘made it’ and after that you have to settle down and be normal.” For Lily, writing for the album also aligned with the 10th anniversary of the death of a close friend, with the resulting track ‘No Souvenirs’ lending its title to the album as a whole. “It had taken me that long to write about it in a way I felt ok with. But I realised that I couldn’t have written it before,” she explains. “I needed that distance, and that maturity, to be able to articulate those feelings. It feels to me now like the album is about scorched earth, moving on, taking nothing with you for the next ‘thing’ - and realising that getting older is a privilege.” Bringing a huge amount of energy and joy with them whenever and wherever they hit a stage, interacting with the audience is a vital part of the Fightmilk live experience. “Without people singing and dancing at us we wouldn’t have gigs at all, so we want everyone to get involved!” says Lily of the band’s future tour plans

Ltd Silver Vinyl, DL card. From a long-forgotten trunk; two extended jams, twin slabs, circa 1989. Continuing Fire Records' series of classic remastered albums from Royal Trux, 'Hand Of Glory' is released on silver vinyl. This bad-ass black, white and blue magic is a kind of Burial Dub_ or so preached the sleeve of 'Hand Of Glory' on its original release in 2002. Legend has it, the two sides of this 40-minute gem were recorded between 1985 and 1989. The resultant mountain of creativity from where they hail were inevitably left under a scuzzy sofa as life and a career that ebbed and flowed over nine albums. Royal Trux became an inspirational tipping point for everyone from Pavement & Sonic Youth to the Black Keys, Kurt Cobain, The Avalanches & Hot Chip's Alexis Taylor. "I urge and encourage you to enter the harmolodic multiverse of their music." Alexis Taylor, Hot Chip. 'Hand Of Glory' is not like their other albums but then again none of their albums are alike, it's a two-faced masterpiece. Side one's 'Domo Des Burros'/'Two Sticks' is on par with Beefheart's sprawling 'Trout Mask Replica'. It plays out in 19 minutes, sounding like it was laid down on Warhol's sofa in The Factory; like Dylan's sprawling 'Desolation Row' with, background squalls, interruptions and both Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema's overlayed stream of consciousness peeping through a multi-layered backdrop. It's just staggering. "Royal Trux were nothing if not fearless." Pitchfork. Side two's 'The Boxing Story', a loose homage to William Burroughs, moulds and morphs from tape to tape, a multi-speed soundtrack, while the dynamic duo press pause, guitars ring, occasional melodic lines arrive and evaporate. Lou Reed's pastoral 'Metal Machine Music' could perhaps be recognized as an older and perhaps less challenging sibling. A two-sided masterpiece featuring two wayward pieces of creative genius.

Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare or Sly and Robbie as they are affectionately known are the drum and bass backbone of Reggae Music, they have played on, produced, invented, reinvented more records then many of their contemporaries put together.

Sly Dunbar born Lowell Charles Dunbar on 10 May 1952, Kingston, Jamaica, drummed his first session for Mr Lee Perry which included a Jamaican hit ,a track called 'Night Doctor', before moving on to the group Skin, Flesh & Bones who had a residency at Kingston's famous 'Tit for Tat' club. This band would evolve into the Channel One house band The Revolutionaries where Sly named after his fondness of the band Sly and the Family Stone would begin to play alongside a bass player who would become his long standing partner in music, namely one Robbie Shakespeare.

Robbie Shakespeare born 27 September 1953, Kingston, Jamaica, had worked his way through session bands including the legendary Aggrovators before uniting with Sly Dunbar in The Revolutionaries. Both musicians had worked with other respective bass / drum players including such figures as Lloyd Parks bass, Carlton 'Santa' Davis drums, but everything seemed to fall into place when they worked together.

They also both had a quest to push the boundaries of reggae music, which they would do throughout their careers, over many sessions to numerous to mention. But highlights would include the groundbreaking Mighty Diamonds 1976 set 'Right Time' with its fresh rockers rhythms which lead the way in the 1970's. Also their work with the bands Culture and Black Uhuru the later of which they toured extensively with, spreading the reggae vibes across Europe and America. Not to forget to mention their Taxi label / productions which are always inventitive whether its in the reggae field or outside where their playing / production skills are much in demand.

The third piece of this jigsaw is the mighty Mr Bunny 'Striker' Lee who brought these legends together. Born Edward O'Sullivan Lee 23 August 1941, he must be one of reggae's most underrated producers. Leading the way in the 1970's especially in the dub field and being one of the early exponents of a King Tubby remix ,which would see nearly all his 7'' releases carrying a Tubby reworking on its flip side. Bunny started his musical career in 1962 working for Duke Reid's Treasure Isle label and soon moved into the world of production gaining his first hit in 1967 with 'Musical Field' by Roy Shirley for the WIRL label. The 1970's was a very productive time for Bunny Lee and saw the launch of his LEE'S label which was producing hits in Jamaica. Not having a studio of his own and renting studio time from the existing establishments like Randy's Studio 17 and Channel One he had to have a crack team of session players to carry out this task, fast and efficiently. This happened firstly under the guise of THE AGGROVATORS see The Aggrovators dubbing it studio 1 style JRCD005 and then with the group of musicians THE REVOLUTIONARIES[ see The Revolutionaries at Channel 1 dub plate specials JRCDOO3]. It’s here in the latter of these groups that Bunny matched Sly and Robbie together for the first time and it’s this match made in heaven that these tracks on this release are culled from. Sessions that Bunny Lee produced with Sly and Robbie during this magical 70's period. These rare dubs are taken from the original master tapes, you may have heard the tune before but not these versions. So sit back and enjoy Reggae Musical History in the making....

Steve Leach's Balearic beach-funk beast Ocean Potion, recorded with the Crystal Grass Orchestra is an absolutely ace, Ned Doheny-adjacent funky AOR / blue-eyed soul BBQ classic from 1976.

Who is Steve Leach, you ask? None other than Seasick Steve in a previous life! A French-only release on Philips, it's a hugely immediate, pop-funk firecracker. It features a wonderfully lush, full orchestral sound throughout, underpinning Steve's gorgeous voice and an army of brilliant backing vocalists.

The supporting cast is phenomenal and is arguably the salient reason this is such a fantastic record. We're talking legendary players from the French scene (think Arpadys, Voyage, Kongas, CCPP, Giant, Swing Family) such as Don Ray with his arranger-conductor hat on as well as synths, Marc Chantereau on percussion, Slim Pezin on guitar, André Ceccarelli on drums, Christian Padovan on bass and Pierre Halation on flute.

With these snakes behind the scenes, it remains a mystery how Ocean Potion is so relatively unknown. Hopefully, this long overdue reissue rectifies this and puts a stop to people dropping $200 on it.

Triumphant, horn-forward opener "The Light Of The Mind" has that uniquely Ned Doheny fidgety funk feel with a fantastically irresistible chorus and great harmonies. Just magic. The insouciant, swaggering "Hey! Hey! What You Doin To Me" is straight up white-hot feel-good funk with by turns sweeping and stabbing strings and a neck-snapping break. Crucial. Coming off like something off The Beach Boy's Surf's Up or Holland (including a sneaky "reason to live" reference that surely nods to "The Trader") is the brilliantly ominous, driving wall of sound of "Take Strength". Cavernous drums, urgent strings and a staggeringly good vocal performance make this a real highlight amongst an album of highlights. The blissful folk-funk of "The Lady Of The Sea" is a real naked heartbreaker, melancholic vibes and a beautiful flute line complementing each other perfectly. Side A closes out with "All My Life", a groovy island-funk white-reggae-tinged lilter which just about lands the right side of acceptable.

Side B opens with the gorgeous "You're The Only One Girl" before the propulsive Philly soul of "At Least We Got Love" elegantly glides into focus. Pulsing beats and piano working with that irresistible orchestra of grass. Glacial ballad "All Love's Children" has a deep New Orleans soul feel that truly soars whilst the breezy "Get Out In The Sun" owes a debt to "Crocodile Rock". It's pure pop for now people and wouldn't have been out of place on a late 70s Nick Lowe effort. Deep late-period Beach Boys gem "Golden Hues" is another heavy melancholic down lifter that really beguiles before the real reason you're all here. Pastoral closer "I Meditate Each Day" is just beautiful, and likely the reason this reissue is giving you that special feeling. Another gorgeous flute-led, folk-funk groover, it featured in a memorable mix from the Creme2laCreme crew (Raphael Top-Secret, Jerome Qpchan and Antoine Kogut) live on Red Light Radio over a decade ago and has been top of many heads' wants list never since. Just mellow out.

As ever, the audio for Ocean Potion has been carefully remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The original, iconic sleeve featuring a topless Steve reclining next to his piano on a flatbed truck on the beach (of course?!) has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

The debut recording from the duo of multi-award-winning Scottish author David Keenan and Bruce Russell, the guitarist from the greatest underground rock band of the late 20th century, New Zealand’s The Dead C, was recorded live in Christchurch, NZ, as part of the WORD festival in August 2023. A series of live improvised settings that pair readings from Keenan’s monolithic and critically-acclaimed modernist masterpiece, Monument Maker (White Rabbit 2021), with guitar and electronics from Russell, the music takes off on the kind of post-VU fantasy of punk-primitive free music posited by Russell in projects like A Handful of Dust while expanding on Russell’s no-technique blues w/scalpel sharp riffs and aformal blats of pure electricity that match the religious eroto-mania of the text. Keenan reads w/shamanistic intensity and with a sonorous, incantatory rhythm, while Russell conjures the very ghost of the book straight out of the air. Think the early Patti Smith/Lenny Kaye spoken word/guitar jams informed by religious painting, Bach cantatas, Pierre Reverdy, Goya, Charles Olson, Arthur Doyle and Rudolph Grey. Features full colour photography by musician and artist Heather Leigh taken in-situ during the writing of Monument Maker in France in 2018. Bruce Russell is a practitioner in sound, who for forty years has been a member of The Dead C and A Handful of Dust. He mixes rock, electro-acoustics, noise and improvisation in equal measures. Also directed two of New Zealand’s vanguard independent labels, Xpressway and Corpus Hermeticum. His solo guitar practice reconfigures the blues as a form of improvisational auto-destruction. He is also a writer and his next book is titled ‘Rock’n’roll: my part in its downfall’. David Keenan is the author of six novels; This is Memorial Device (Faber & Faber) which won the London Magazine Prize for Debut Fiction and was shortlisted for the Gordon Burn Prize; For the Good Times (Faber & Faber), which won the Gordon Burn Prize and was shortlisted for the Encore Award for Second Novels; Xstabeth (White Rabbit), which was shortlisted for the Dublin Literary Prize; The Towers The Fields The Transmitters (White Rabbit); Monument Maker (White Rabbit), which was a Rough Trade Book of the Year; and Industry of Magic & Light (White Rabbit). Edna O’Brien has said of him “I sometimes think David Keenan dreams aloud. His prose has the effortless, enigmatic, unsettling quality of dreams… reading him feels like being cut open to the accompanying sound of ecstatic music.”

Opaque Mango Colored Vinyl. RIYL: Black Milk, Kendrick Lamar, Kamasi Washington, Mos Def, Blood Orange, Milo, Pharcyde, Blackalicious, Anderson Paak. Richmond, Virginia-based artist McKinley Dixon has always used his music as a tool for healing, exploring, and unpacking the Black experience in order to create stories for others like him. For My Mama And Anyone Who Look Like Her, Dixon's debut album on Spacebomb, is the culmination of a journey where heartbreak and introspection challenged him to adapt new ways of communicating physically and mentally, as well as across time and space. The language accessibility aspect of this project draws right back to communication and connecting," Dixon explains. "I think about the messaging, and how this can be a way for another Black person, someone who looks like me, to listen to this and process the past. Everything I've learned about communication for this album culminates with this bigger question about time. Is time linear when you're still healing and processing? Westerners look at time travel as something to conquer or control - it's a colonizer mindset. That's ignoring how time travel can be done through stories and non-verbal communication, and doesn't acknowledge how close indigenous people are to the land and the connections groups have because they've existed somewhere for so long. Storytelling is time travel, it's taking the listener to that place. Quick time travel. Magic." Never relying solely on beats, Dixon taps into a hybrid of jazz and rap, pulling in an array of piercing strings, soulful horns, percussion, and angelic vocalists throughout the album-plus features by Micah James, Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon, Pink Siifu, and more. Jazz instrumentals add a level of uncertainty, with the sounds and shifts evoking a lot of emotion and vulnerability. It's an energy he describes as "Pre-Kendrick Lamar To Pimp A Butterfly," the era when rap adopted more live instrumentation. The best way to sum up this album is: I was sad, I was mad, and now I'm alive," Dixon explains. "These things I talk about on the record have had harmful and brilliant effects on my timeline, and have forced me to be cognizant of the fact that living is complex. Rap has allowed me the language to communicate, and be someone who can communicate with people from all over. Knowing how far I've come, I think people will find trust in the message I'm sending."

“A huge thing for this record was to make it feel as close to our live show as possible,” says Tom Sharkett of W.H. Lung’s latest album. “We didn’t want it to sound live but we wanted to capture the excitement of the live performances.”

This is something that has become paramount to the group in recent years as they have undeniably blossomed into one of the most joyous and arresting live bands in the country. “The reason I’m in a band is to play live music,” says singer Joe Evans. “For me, music is live music. That’s what it’s for, to be played with people.”

The five-piece band, also featuring Chris Mulligan, Hannah Peace, and Alex Mercer-Main, decided to try something new on their third album after two incredibly successful collaborations with previous producer Matt Peel. In order to capture the energy, spirit and dynamism of their live shows, they relocated to Sheffield to work with Ross Orton (MIA, Arctic Monkeys, Working Men’s Club) who was able to harness this side of the band to remarkable effect. “Ross is the Sheffield Steve Albini,” says Evans. “He’s the king of not overthinking it and trusting the process of the art of recording songs. He was always there to stop us fucking around with cerebral stuff and get it down.” Sharkett echoes this too: “He was the exact producer we needed without us even realising. His productions and mixes are bombastic, lively and in your face and that’s exactly what we wanted.”

However, while this album is rooted in a sense of capturing a moment and a sparky liveness, that’s not to say it’s a raw or ragged record. It is still a meticulously composed, delicately layered and pristinely produced piece of work that, in true W.H. Lung style, runs the gauntlet from dance to pop to indie while still capturing that distinctly unique quality that is unquestionably their own. “It was a really big thing for me to realise what made us sound like us on this record,” says Sharkett. “I think the album sounds a lot more confident and self assured because of it. Some songs sound just so much like Lung and I’m really proud of that. I’m not sure we’ve done that as consistently across the other records.”

While the band have drilled deeper into finding their own singular identity, it’s not a record resting on its laurels. It’s a significant leap forward, expanding on their solid foundations while also breaking new ground. “The big difference with this record is its directness in every sense,” says Sharkett. “The songwriting is more upfront. Previously we’d focused a lot on vibe and production as opposed to just writing songs. The overall mission here was to revert to a classic songwriting structure and for the production to come afterwards.” And so what you have on this record are deeply considered and well-crafted songs, then recorded with blistering intensity in the moment, and then given a touch of experimentation afterwards. Then throw in Orton’s contributions to the band and it’s proven to be a real winning formula. “He brought a real dose of magic to the songs we’d written,” says Sharkett. “And brought an extra bit of wonk and quirkiness each time.”

The band’s ability to write more traditional and conventional songs is clearly a skill they’ve taken to with ease, at times there’s an almost Springsteen-like quality – but if he'd ever had an ecstasy period – to tracks such as ‘Thinner Wine’ and ‘Bloom and Fade’. While ‘How to Walk’ was constructed with one thing only in mind: that it would absolutely slay on stage. “I can’t wait to play this live,” says Evans. “We wanted a song to represent our live set, a new big one, and this is it.” Once again it leans towards the anthemic, with its driving, propulsive charge complete with incandescent synths and vocal melodies so irresistible you can already hear them being sung in unison by a crowd.

It’s an incredibly difficult feat to pull off a record that is more rooted in traditional songcraft while also capturing the power of a live performance, as well as pushing sonics into experimental new directions while working with a brand new collaborator. But here the band has managed to do just that. And the album’s closing song ‘I Will Set Fire To The House’ is a perfect example of such a thing. It’s a song that feels immaculately constructed but also very much alive and of the moment as its radiating synths engulf from the off, and Evans’ vocal is silky but powerful and in perfect symbiosis with Peace’s. It’s a song that captures the endless joys of music playing long into the night. “It may be a bit of a bloody bombastic way to end an album saying ‘and we’ll dance into the sunrise’,” says Evans. “But fuck it.”

MORE PRESS ON ‘VANITIES’ (MELO131)

"Vanities artily refines an exhilarating brand of up-front electro-dance" MOJO ⅘

'Idiosyncratic yet euphoric electronic pop on triumphant second LP' 9/10 Uncut

''One of the most effective alternative pop albums of the year'' 4/5 Record Collector
'Dance music for the modern age' - The Times (4*)

'We're excited to be able to bring you the latest wonderful album from Chester's boycalledcrow, after a series of superb releases for labels such as Mortality Tables, Waxing Crescent Records and Subexotic Records, including the wonderful Kullu from earlier this year.

Knott's music doesn't sit easily in any pre-existing genres, being at once strange and experimental, yet melodic and somehow comforting. His music is intimate and evocative, deeply personal, and manages to be both bucolic and yet totally 21st century, like Kraftwerk's robots dreaming of sheep.

The songs and sounds on “eyetrees” are inspired by a rich family life and the wonderful times spent with his wife and kids, both at home and out in nature.'

Knott said of the album and its inspirations:
“We enjoy spending time in the woods with our young children, creating stories about the "eye tree”. This tree, with thousands of eyes, watches over us and cares for us like family. We make fox medicine and cherish these blissful moments. The music reflects these times, seen through the colors of an old, fuzzy reel—orange, red, and yellow with blurred edges, like an old photo scorched by the sun.

I feel a deep spiritual connection to the countryside; the hands of Arcadia cradle me when I feel sad. Some of the album was created during times of sadness when I felt death was close and the lines between worlds were blurred. This feeling—that anything can happen and that life is delicate and can be taken away in a flash—permeates the music.

The song titles are stories and memories of my family, filled with hazy pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges.

Wonky acoustic guitar, broken electronics, and a warm, otherworldly space."

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

It has now been four years since our return to earth in "2020 back to earth". There we had found a cold and inhospitable place, humanity was inexorably channeled on the path to extinction. We therefore decided to flee immediately in search of another planet where we could dwell.
We therefore came to New Babylon, a planet inhabited by humanoids but also by monstrous and ravenous creatures. There are "giants" that march about raising immense clouds of dust, stealing and plundering everything from people. Giants much like our corporations, they know no defeat and have no weaknesses, at least apparent ones.
There are old warriors like jarek who wait for war to feel like heroes, to feel alive. They find their dimension within the battle, where the line between hero and assassin magically blurs.
There are pyramids erected by men who think they are gods and turn the things life gives them into weapons and death, changing their use and meaning. Little men who think themselves omnipotent, burying knowledge of how life works under piles of lies.
We find a myriad of slaves, surrendered to live in huge troughs. They toil at nothing and find meaning in nothing. They prefer a convenient lie to an inconvenient truth.
In short, we realize that we have arrived in a world very much like earth. We are aliens but in a certain way we feel at home. We want to know, to understand, to evolve. We don't recognize ourselves in this deceived humanity, we don't give in, we believe. Nature, life is wonderful but when one thing loses its usefulness life gently explains to it that it is time to make room for something else. This existence has already explained to the dinosaurs.
Kayleth continue their journey, never stopping because who seeks will find itself.

"New Babylon ranks next to Space Muffin as Kayleth’s best album for me and one that contains some of their best grooves of their career to date." - Outlaws Of The Sun
"Sit down and really take in We Are Aliens as it’s a joy to listen to, but are the aliens we think exist, just like us? Let Kayleth take you on their journey of discovery." - The Sleeping Shaman
"On this album the Italian five manage to translate heroism into wild and wonderful sounds, often sounding even more like a grungier, metal version of Monster Magnet, mixed with mix a definitive love for Kyuss, Orange Goblin and a prog rock outfit like Riverside." - Stoner Hive
"It’s a call to arms for the dreamers and the rebels, a reminder that no matter how dark the journey, there is always light to be found. This album is a must-listen for anyone into psych stoner rock!" - Witching Buzz
"New Babylon is a triumph. It’s an album that demands to be listened to in full, each track a journey through heavy riffs and cosmic themes." - Iron Backstage
"Listening to a piece like 'New Babylon's Wall,' you can appreciate the richness and sonic fertility of the group, with beautiful melodies enriched by the right amount of electronics, starting from a psych conception of the stoner sound, and there is no lack of prog elements, all with beautiful melodies. As mentioned earlier, a sci-fi band in both approach and essence." - InYourEyesEzine
"KAYLETH doesn't reinvent anything, but they absolutely crush it by the rules!" - Rock'N Force
"Stoner rock has rarely sounded as original, diverse and intoxicating as it does here!

As we approach the threshold leading us back to the Black Lodge on our transformative 8th journey, we are escorted through and beyond the mystical portal by the vigorous and fierce forces of Sneaker. Portrait in House is a collection of 3 resonant works, which are unified into a singular vision within its uncanny language that is rooted deeply in the foundations of Jak, New Beat, EBM, and Wave. Existing inside the liminal spaces of where light meets dark, we are presented with a documentation of dissonance and harmony. We begin our voyage with Jihad, a sluggish and slogging piece that unforgivingly drags us through the grime and the dirt in a ritualistic fashion that would have the ghost of Georges Bataille dancing in circles. Voices call out and howl into the dark as the drum patterns of the 707 rhythmically grasps onto its anarchic components. In the dark, we can see the light beyond the known universe. In the words of Sneaker "The name is not our message, but a document of an evident, traditional concept in (y)our world." As we find ourselves sprawled out on the ground following the 1st sonic stanza, a menacing voice bellows and warns that this is a Sax Track. Referencing Chicago icon Lil Louis, this work juxtaposes classical elements of house music together with the bare knuckled spirit of Jak. A magical spell led by disharmonious Portasound FM keys in conversation with a teetering sub bass, where at its core, this plus this, equals something that is uniquely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A number fit for any uncanny ritual that will fall under the night sky. Bringing our cosmic procession to a close we pick up the pace with a commanding number titled, Dance On, a no holds barred work that will possess your soul in the name of Jak. Flangers wail unforgivingly alongside a pulsating 101, as samples of the human voice are chopped up and arranged into a conversation that hypnotically calls for our bodies to be transformed into soft machines, while powered by ceremonious motions that are generated from the liberating process of ritual movement. We command you to dance! Words by Justin Aulis Long

The Congos were formed by Cedric Myton (born 1947 St Catherine, Jamaica) and Roydel ‘Roy’ Johnson (born 1943 Hanover, Jamaica), around the mid-seventies, a time when the Rasta message coming out of Kingston and other pockets of the Jamaican Island was at its most prominent. Cedric Myton’s singing career began back in the rocksteady era in Reggae’s musical story.

He formed the ‘Tartans’ group taking lead vocal duties alongside Devon Russell, Prince Lincoln Thompson and Lindbergh Lewis. They cut ‘Dance All Night’ (1967) and ‘Coming On Strong’ (1968). The line-up reduced to a two piece, Cedric and Devon Russell, when tracks like ‘What a Sin Thing’ and ‘Short Up Dress’ were cut. This line-up became the Royal Rasses, Cedric formed The Congos, on meeting Roydel Johnson. Roydel previously sang as a member of Ras Michael and the Sons of Negas, cutting such tracks as ’Go To Zion’ (1973). As we can see Cedric’s and Roydel’s Rasta roots were firmly in place by the time they had formed The Congos sometimes called ‘The Congoes’.

The Congos possess what all bands look for,that unique sound that draws the listener to them.Lead singer Cedric Myton’s style and phasing, with his distinctive Falsetto voice makes this just the case.Built on a foundation of classic rhythms and with the aid of then Producer, Lee Perry, the groups statement of intent was laid down with one succinct message. The Congos mighty 1977 ‘Heart of the Congos’ album, is quite simply one of the best reggae albums ever recorded.

Producer Lee Perry had wanted to record a classic Jamaican vocal group in his newly built Black Ark Studio. The voice of Watty Burnett was added at the time to cover baritone vocal duties. The studio after various changes in equipment etc. was finally finding its way. A sound built in Lee Perry’s back yard in Cardiff Crescent, Washington Gardens, Kingston, but existing until then in Mr Lee Perry’s mind. The album they cut would be the defining group release to come out of The Black Ark studios, when the vital elements, vibes, musicians, songs and singing would gel to form ‘Heart Of The Congos’. Come the time of it’s release 1977, Lee Perry was in dispute with Island Records and opted to release the record on his own ‘Black Art’ label. Without the high-profile push of a major label, the record undersold and caused a split between producer and band. Under different circumstances maybe this album would be sitting in thousands of homes alongside the Bob Marley, Culture, Burning Spear releases. Cedric Myton went on to release albums with the French arm of the CBS label and Roy Johnson records and tours as Congo Ashanti Roy.

Cedric Myton the central force carries on the mantle of the Congos and we at Kingston Sounds are proud to pick up the story with another set of vocal statements, which sees Cedric cut some of his finest tunes. Helped along by another reggae legend Brent Dowe, lead singer of the Melodians (Rivers of Babylon), over some classic 1970’s rhythms. Yet again we find that magic formula of strong statements working alongside classic rhythms making the balance work. The Rasta message is still strong on modern classics like ‘King Rastafari Is His Name’, ‘Rasta Congo Man’ and the injustices of the world dissected in tunes ‘Some A Thief’, ‘Watch & Pray’ and the prophetical, ‘Citizen Of The World’.

Once touched by magic it does not fade away, but resurfaces as it has with what we believe to be some of the Congos most heartfelt and meaningful set of songs ...... Let the feast begin.

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

The second studio album from The Groundhogs, now slimmed to the classic three piece line up of Tony TS McPhee on guitar, Pete Cruikshank on bass and Ken Pestelnik on drums. The beginning of their domination as the hardest working band on the circuit, a testament to their creativity as they re-tooled the blues into a neo-psyche groove. Breaking from their traditional influences, the first stepping stone for the power trio who would blossom with ‘Thank Christ For the Bomb’, ‘Split’ and ‘Who Will Save The World?’. Inspired by a Yardbirds’ freak out, hearing authentic Indian drumming and the magic that existed between this legendary trio, ‘Blues Obituary’ is a juggernaut of riffs. According to Tony in Zig Zag’s John Tobler’s sleeve notes to the 1987 re-issue of ‘Blues Obituary’ it was the BBC’s John Peel producer John Walters that forced the band’s hand. “He decided he hated the blues,” McPhee told Tobler, “We figured it was time to get away from it.” “A deep excursion into musical depths further down than Canned Heat ever dared go.” The re-issue also includes a mono-friendly single cut of ‘BDD’ plus its original B-side ‘Gasoline’, an aching solo Tony TS McPhee track

Two of Slow Life's stronghold producers and family members team up for the first time. The legendary Alex Neri, and the young magician Paolo Mosca, a powerful combo delivering a timeless piece of danceable art. They are past, present and future: eterno.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”

Isik Kural returns with Moon in Gemini, a luminous scrapbook of slow-flowing narratives couched in intuitive and symbolic storytelling. Bending a playful take on environmental music to the folk song form, Isik's vocals coo atop pastoral field notes, airy chamber instrumentation and archival recordings culled from a curious musical life. A tender pastiche coalesces across the suite of Moon in Gemini's fourteen pieces, and Isik invites the listener to daydream as-deep-as-possible. "The songs on Moon in Gemini don't mind being slower or taking their time to reach the listener," says Isik, who wanted the title to speak to the album's dreamy, liminal nature. "I enjoyed how the phrase could be used to describe an object, a time or a place simultaneously," he explains. Similarly and subsequently, these songs contain a multiplicity of sonic artifacts, moments and spaces that span Isik's rich musical career to date. With the bulk of the album realized between Amasya, Turkey and Isik's current home in Glasgow, in both domestic and studio recording environments, additional tracks unearthed from his personal recording archive lend their lush patina. The record emerged as a fertile space to reimagine a handful of previously unreleased songs and unfinished ideas spanning the past fifteen years of his life and work, including streetside sounds documented while growing up in Turkey and recordings made while studying music engineering in Miami, Helsinki and Glasgow. Looking to the more recent past, Isik found himself wanting to build upon some of the methodologies and textures explored on his 2022 album in february, seeking a newly intimate, vocal-forward sound. He points to the track "film festival" from that album as a door through which to enter Moon in Gemini, where sample-based arrangements are presented in the context of asymmetrical "build ups and progressions" and ambience and vocals intertwine. Inspired in part by listening to iconic, if not sometimes misunderstood, singers such as Nina Simone, Aldous Harding and Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear, Isik aimed to carve out a new space for his voice on Moon in Gemini, experimenting with novel recording and mixing techniques. Captured at his aunt's farmhouse in Amasya during an extended three week recording session, we find Isik's vocal high in the mix, front-and-center and on newly expressive terms. As a songwriter, Isik is an intuitive and playful lyricist who allows his deep love of literature to flow through his off-kilter texts. Here, echoes of Silvina Ocampo's poem "Dialogues of the Silence" reverberate from the margins of "Most Beautiful Imaginary Dialogues". Likewise, Elliott Smith and Virgina Astley shapeshift through "Behind the Flowerpots," some lines of which were based on misheard lyrics from Smith's "Stickman" and Astley's "Some Small Hope." Attuned to the magic of happy coincidences, other unexpected "themes and connections between tracks flourished" during the recording process, resulting in some songs being more "thematically and lyrically connected to each other compared to previous records." The duos "Prelude" and "Interlude" as well as "Grown One Iota" and "After a Rain" explore connected stories, while "Almost a Ghost" and "Behind the Flowerpots" serendipitously emerged out of a conversation with Stephanie "Spefy" Roxanne Ward, whose balmy vocals heard highlighting in february return and call out to Isik's in sweet dialogue. Plumbing these new potentials of structure and songwriting, Isik also developed a taste for an expanded sonic palette, one enriched by the lulling undertones of live woodwinds and strings. The resulting collaborations with flutist Tenzin Stephen, harpist Kirstin McCarlie and clarinet player Giulia Tamborino envelop the record in an altogether "dreamier sound," swaying pastel and awash in lunar light. Moon in Gemini, brimming with natural imagery and lullaby-inflected tones, tunes into states of being where the wonder filled sound of everyday is heard and felt, perfectly imperfect in its poetry; where the invisible steps forward; where dauntless ghosts wait around every corner and play enriches the soul; where bird song fills sun-soaked afternoons and carries us on its wings into each enchanted evening. Isik Kural's Moon in Gemini will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on September 6, 2024. On behalf of Isik and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Mor Çaty Women's Shelter Foundation, whose social work at their solidarity centers and shelters supports women building lives unhindered by gender-based discrimination and male violence under free and equal conditions.

At once a spiritually-charged journey and a shit-kicking party record, American Cream Band comes to Quindi covering all the bases.
American Cream Band was formed by Twin-Cities musician Nathan Nelson around 10 years ago, taking the form of improvised live shows and albums Frankensteined from these sessions into exultant, fully-formed records you can sink your teeth into. The trick with improvised music is to start with intentions, however abstract they might be, and Nelson leads his rolling cast of collaborators into the creative fray with subtle guidance which drives the impulsive musical moment forward.
The band's previous records have manifested on labels like Moon Glyph and Medium Sound, and now Presents arrives in a freewheeling flash of snappy new wave, skronky sax, call and response sass and some krautrock-minded sonic cosmology. The album came together in December 2021, when Nelson took ten musicians to legendary studio Pachyderm in Cannon Falls, Minnesota. Living together, eating together, and with Nelson quietly setting up his low-key magick intentions around Jupiter's planetary frequency and the studio's abundance of elephant statues and carpets, they laid down some drum-heavy sessions that became the building blocks of the record.
'Taste What We Taste' is the perfect example of an exuberant groove pounded on skins as a vessel for a joyous get-down, with the singers and players free to freak out on top. Nelson remains at the centre of the melee, throwing half-sardonic, half-heartfelt calls out for connection. 'Banana' celebrates nonsense and holds down the most serious of beats - a disco-not-disco deadeye dripping in late night sleaze and lysergic potential. On 'Royal Tears', the jagged guitar chops call back to Gang Of Four, while the hot n' heavy sax from Cole Pulice baits James Chance and all the other angular New York un-jazz misfits.
Amongst his other implied intentions for the recordings, Nelson wanted to channel opposites, not least the distinct male-female energies in his vocal sparring with the girls on assistance duties. It wouldn't be right to call them backing singers as they shoot back at his punchy mantras, bringing a certain fierce femininity that tips its hat to The B-52's Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson, not to mention iconic post-punk bands like Au Pairs, Delta 5 and Bush Tetras.
There's space for the dreamier kosmische which has crept into the American Cream oeuvre in the past, as 'Sirens' opens the album up in a swirling pond of rag tag percussion and molten synths. 'Words Would Handcuff Us' cools the whole riotous assembly down in unmoored perfection, a strung-out Bossa nova seance dusted with celestial drips from analogue spaceships.
Equally treading the line between light and dark, conscious and unconscious, the sacred and profane, Presents is a life-affirming, creep-under-the-skin listening experience - a joyously transient chapter in the evolution of American Cream Band.

The vibrant label "Bunte Kuh" from Basel, Switzerland, releases brand new remixes of the track "JeBoDa" which was originally released on the label a year ago by the trio Dan Bay, Chill Sander & Between Machines, as well as "More Rooms" - a new original track from the artist trio.
A total of seven artists closely associated with the label reinterpret the catchy and intoxicating original, delivering inspiring remixes for the dancefloor. These new works span various genres, rooted in Down Tempo and Organic House, as well as Melodic House, Minimal, and Indie Dance.
Iorie enriches his remix, paving a vibrantly painted path to another dimension, full of love for detail. Kon Faber significantly increases the tempo, distilling the original down to its essence and adding splendid and powerful synths.
Focusing on the organic spirit of the original, Olivan carefully dresses his remix in a stylish framework of diverse layers and emotional depth. With minimal influences and gentle dub techno elements, Mira Vána crafts an immersive remix that captivates step by step, pleasantly dissolving the mind.
Hypnotically, Niju takes us on a special and completely ecstatic journey through his cosmos, enchanting body and mind with a magically rich remix. Niki Sadeki fuses the darker parts of the original with a unique spirit, creating an extraordinary piece through heartfelt arrangement and powerful instrumentation. Bīsu writes a psychedelic-tinged and completely new story with his remix, plunging the track into deep club waters that seem to separate the mind from the body.
With "More Rooms," Dan Bay, Chill Sander & Between Machines add a captivating and charismatic new track to the release. Organic elements merge with facets of the electronic, inviting an excursion into the night full of fluorescent elements and fairy-tale breaks whose aftereffects slowly but surely transform into unforeseen climaxes.
The remixes and the original will be released splitted on two digital EPs and then all together on vinyl.

The Circus is a place of lights and colors, but also of shadows, even darkness. Admittedly, it delights children and makes adults laugh. But you only need one rainy autumn evening near a circus tent and the smell of fodder to think of the sadness of the clowns, the endless training of the animals and the freaks who are hidden in some caravan... cinema, the essence of the circus – movement, light, danger and burlesque – will have been admirably rendered in Notes on the circus by Jonas Mekas (1966), one of the inventors of the filmed diary. With Cirque, Michèle Bokanowski does similar work, entirely dedicated to spinning, in the musical field.

She distinguished herself in particular in the composition of musique concrète, among others Tabou and Trois chambres d'inquiétudes, after having studied with Pierre Schaeffer and Éliane Radigue. The latter, great lady of drone and minimalism, fell under the spell of Cirque and wrote the booklet for the piece as a poem.

The piece, divided into five movements, is based on the handling and editing of recordings captured within one or more circuses (this is not specified and is of no importance) between 1988 and 1993. The initial allegro reveals the gallop of a horse joined gradually by other images. The idea of the circular space of the circus tent is immediatly and magnificently rendered and will be constantly recalled by an insistent use of the loop technique. Children's laughter, applause and drum rolls are thus sheared, repeated before being brutally interrupted. Accordion interludes and the distortion of sounds create a dreamlike atmosphere. This beautiful nightmare reminds us, to quote Éliane Radigue, the "Magic of childhood still living in the heart of man even beyond its abrupt end."

Words by Alexandre Galand, from the book “Field Recording – L’usage sonore du monde en 100 albums” (ed. Le mot et le reste, 2012)

Major member of the french musique concrète scene, Michèle Bokanowski was born on August 9, 1943 in Cannes, FR, to a musician mother and a writer father. She now lives and works in Paris.
Music lover since adolescence, it was relatively late, at the age of 22, that Michèle Bokanowski decided to study composition. Reading In Search of a Concrete Music by Pierre Schaeffer was decisive. After classical training on harmony, she met Michel Puig, a student of René Leibowitz, who taught her writing and analysis based on the Treatise of Schönberg. In September 1970 she began a two-year internship in the ORTF Research Department under the direction of Pierre Schaeffer. She takes part in the same time in a research group on sound synthesis, studies musical computing at the Faculty of Vincennes and electronic music with Éliane Radigue.
Her main works are intended for concert: Pour un pianiste, Trois chambres d’inquiétude, Tabou, Phone Variations, Cirque, L’étoile Absinthe, Chant d’Ombre, Enfance, Rhapsodia, Cadence, Elsewhere. She has also composed for theater (with Catherine Dasté), dance (with choreographers Hideyuki Yano, Marceline Lartigue, Bernardo Montet) and cinema: music for the short films of Patrick Bokanowski and his two feature films L'Ange ( 1982) and A Solar Dream (2016).