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Beggars Arkive will release a long-awaited vinyl reissue of THE CULT"S second album LOVE on February 24th. THE CULT is fronted by Ian Astbury on vocals and Billy Duffy on guitar. Their music and albums at this point need no introduction as they have cemented themselves over the years since they began in 1983, as one of the greatest rock bands around. Love was the Cult"s second album, originally released in 1985. It was their breakthrough and produced many singles including "Rain", "Revolution" and the epic anthem "She Sells Sanctuary" - songs that still resonate today - in fact "She Sells Sanctuary" was recently featured in Season Two of the hit TV show Euphoria. The album eventually defined their career, but at the time, it flew in the face of everything that was going on in music.

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

• The premium cuts by the legend that is Link Wray remastered on limited coloured vinyl with free CD
• Stunning artwork by Sophie Lo
• Liner notes by Author Nina Antonia.

It will surely come as no surprise that Quentin Tarantino picked up on Link Wray’s ‘Rumble’ and ‘Ace of Spades’ for the movie ‘Pulp Fiction’. The brooding guitar man; born in North Carolina in 1929, as Fred Lincoln Wray Jnr, hails from pulp territory - the mythic Americana of rock n’ roll. Wray’s mother, from whom he inherited his striking appearance, was a Shawnee Indian, his father was a street corner preacher and grandpa did some jail time. Whilst having contracted tuberculosis when serving in the Korean war affected Wray’s vocals, his guitar playing mostly did the singing for him, but he wasn’t always volatile - ‘Lillian’ and ‘Alone’ revealing the heart beneath the tough exterior. Fiercely independent, when the rock n’ roll boom burst, Wray fashioned a 3-track home studio from a chicken shack and largely extricated himself from the music business although he would continue to record and play, stating ‘Money don’t rule me, record companies don’t own me.’ Nothing owned Link Wray but he owned rock n roll. Though the era of monochrome had ended, Link cast a long shadow, drawing admiration from the likes of Neil Young, Keith Moon and Pete Townshend who noted of Wray ‘He is the king, if it hadn’t been for Link Wray and ‘Rumble’, I would never have picked up a guitar.’ Though often marginalised throughout his career, Wray was like the night, an unquantifiable influence on successive generations of guitarists who sought to scorch rather than soothe. In November 2005, Bob Dylan was just about to step out on stage at the Royal Hall Albert, when he learned that Link had struck his final chord. In tribute to the great man, Dylan commenced his set with ‘Rumble.’

Deep Listening 2019 - 2022 features the best of Richard Norris' recent ambient, downtempo and deep listening music.
This reflective, meditative take on electronic music has been a daily practice for the musician for some years, and has resulted in numerous releases on the Group Mind and Inner Mind labels. Included are a number of 'Music For Healing' tracks, part of an ongoing series of releases specifically created for relaxation and anxiety relief. The results have been quite phenomenal. People have given birth to this music, and there have been many reports of people using this music to help anxiety, stress and bereavement.

Richard Norris is well known for his work with Soft Cell's Dave Ball in the Grid, and Erol Alkan in Beyond The Wizards Sleeve, as well as many solo releases, productions and remixes. He has been called 'the electronic musician's electronic musician', and the results are all over this double album, with warm analogue bubble baths heavily featured. Dive in...

Repress !

The long-awaited reissue of the best ever album of rare Eastern and psychedelic Jazz music by this famous Hungarian guitarist
Gabor Szabo, originally released in 1968. For the first time as extended edition with 2 bonus tracks: radio versions of Fire Dance
/ Ferris Wheel from the 1969 7” single 7”. Deluxe 8-sided Digipak CD and Gatefold Vinyl come with long, exclusively written
inner notes by the famous researcher and biographer Douglas Payne. Remastered by Martin Bowes at Cage Studios (UK).
Gabor Szabo was one of the most original guitarists to emerge in the 1960s, mixing his Hungarian folk music heritage with a deep
love of jazz and crafting a distinctive, largely self-taught sound. Born in Budapest, on March 8, 1936, Szabo was inspired by a Roy
Rogers cowboy movie to begin playing guitar when he was 14 and often played in dinner clubs and covert jam sessions while still
living in his hometown. He escaped from his country at age 20 on the eve of the Communist uprising and eventually made his way
to America, settling with his family in California.
He attended Berklee College (1958-1960) and in 1961 joined Chico Hamilton's innovative quintet featuring Charles Lloyd. Urged
by Hamilton, Szabo crafted a most distinctive sound; as agile on intricate, nearly-free runs as he was able to sound inspired during
melodic passages. Szabo left the Hamilton group in 1965 to leave his mark on the pop-jazz of the Gary McFarland quintet and the
energy music of Charles Lloyd's fiery and underrated quartet featuring Ron Carter and Tony Williams.
Szabo initiated a solo career in 1966, recording the exceptional album, Spellbinder, which yielded many inspired moments and
"Gypsy Queen," the song Santana turned into a huge hit in 1970. Szabo formed an innovative quintet (1967-1969) featuring the
brilliant, classically trained guitarist Jimmy Stewart and recorded many notable albums during the late '60s. The emergence of
rock music (especially George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix) found Szabo experimenting with feedback and more
commercially oriented forms of jazz.
During the '70s, Szabo regularly performed along the West Coast, hypnotizing audiences with his enchanting, spellbinding style.
From 1970, he locked into a commercial groove, even though records like Mizrab occasionally revealed his seamless jazz, pop,
Gypsy, Indian, and Asian fusions. Szabo had revisited his homeland several times during the '70s, finding opportunities to perform
brilliantly with native talents. He was hospitalized during his final visit and died in 1982, just short of his 46th birthday.

Repress !

The long-awaited reissue of the best ever album of rare Eastern and psychedelic Jazz music by this famous Hungarian guitarist
Gabor Szabo, originally released in 1968. For the first time as extended edition with 2 bonus tracks: radio versions of Fire Dance
/ Ferris Wheel from the 1969 7” single 7”. Deluxe 8-sided Digipak CD and Gatefold Vinyl come with long, exclusively written
inner notes by the famous researcher and biographer Douglas Payne. Remastered by Martin Bowes at Cage Studios (UK).
Gabor Szabo was one of the most original guitarists to emerge in the 1960s, mixing his Hungarian folk music heritage with a deep
love of jazz and crafting a distinctive, largely self-taught sound. Born in Budapest, on March 8, 1936, Szabo was inspired by a Roy
Rogers cowboy movie to begin playing guitar when he was 14 and often played in dinner clubs and covert jam sessions while still
living in his hometown. He escaped from his country at age 20 on the eve of the Communist uprising and eventually made his way
to America, settling with his family in California.
He attended Berklee College (1958-1960) and in 1961 joined Chico Hamilton's innovative quintet featuring Charles Lloyd. Urged
by Hamilton, Szabo crafted a most distinctive sound; as agile on intricate, nearly-free runs as he was able to sound inspired during
melodic passages. Szabo left the Hamilton group in 1965 to leave his mark on the pop-jazz of the Gary McFarland quintet and the
energy music of Charles Lloyd's fiery and underrated quartet featuring Ron Carter and Tony Williams.
Szabo initiated a solo career in 1966, recording the exceptional album, Spellbinder, which yielded many inspired moments and
"Gypsy Queen," the song Santana turned into a huge hit in 1970. Szabo formed an innovative quintet (1967-1969) featuring the
brilliant, classically trained guitarist Jimmy Stewart and recorded many notable albums during the late '60s. The emergence of
rock music (especially George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix) found Szabo experimenting with feedback and more
commercially oriented forms of jazz.
During the '70s, Szabo regularly performed along the West Coast, hypnotizing audiences with his enchanting, spellbinding style.
From 1970, he locked into a commercial groove, even though records like Mizrab occasionally revealed his seamless jazz, pop,
Gypsy, Indian, and Asian fusions. Szabo had revisited his homeland several times during the '70s, finding opportunities to perform
brilliantly with native talents. He was hospitalized during his final visit and died in 1982, just short of his 46th birthday.

Ever dream you're in a spaceship on a never-ending journey to an unknowable destination? That's how Nyles Lannon often thought of life in the early part of the pandemic, when time seemed to stand still, before the vaccines or even knowing when there might be any. But whether that spaceship is a desolate prison or a vessel for escaping to a better world depends on how you use it. With literally nowhere to go, the Film School guitarist and his then-12-year-old son Skye, on drums and modular synths, would jam most evenings in Nyles's home studio, just to have something to focus their minds on and counter the tedium of "remote learning." What started out as a way to keep his talented kid busy became a means to process the anxiety and disorientation of that strange, scary stretch of time. The result is Vanishing, a ten-song album of moody melodies, new wave beats, droney rock, and even an electrogroove instrumental interlude, by the father-son project they named Nyte Skye.

The emotional toll of lockdown, our collective grief, the literal darkness that engulfed the sky thanks to devastating wildfires brought on by climate crisis—these are heavy subjects, but the songs also convey how we managed to keep each other sane, and inspired, through it all. Film School devotees will find plenty to love; so will fans of the Police (Stewart Copeland being one of Skye's major

influences), the Cure, Spiritualized, and Elliott Smith. The album's opener, "Dream State (I'm Vanishing)," is a wistful synth-driven indie gem about disappearing into an alternate universe where worries don't exist. "Doing Time," with its massive washes of 12-string guitar and sophisticated syncopated beat, is a shoegazey meditation on holding onto a child's sanguine outlook in the face of adversity. If dream pop track "Take Me Up Again" is the album's bounciest, its counterpoint is "Faded," whose bittersweet melody and gentle rhythm bely themes of physical and emotional frailty.

Ultimately, not only did working on Vanishing help the duo cope with a uniquely challenging situation, but just being stuck at home helped stoke their creativity. "Music was the only thing I did during the pandemic, besides online school," Skye says. "It gave us all this time we didn't have before to make the album." For Nyles—knowing they might never have that kind of time again—to be able to put out a record with his son is, simply, "a dream come true."

Vanishing was written, recorded, and produced by Nyles Lannon and Skye Lannon and mixed by Dan Long, with additional contributions from Zach Rogue (Rogue Wave), Nichole Kreglow (backup vocals), lyricist Neil Rodenmeyer (Lupa Rosa), and Ian McDonald (FUTRVST).

Widely considered to be one of the best albums of the 90s, 1992's Automatic For The People features R.E.M.'s iconic hit singles Nightswimming,' Man on the Moon' and Everybody Hurts.'

Commemorating the album's 25th Anniversary, this remastered Deluxe edition boxset features previously unreleased material, including 20 never-before-heard demos, and the previously unreleased tracks Mike's Pop Song' and Devil Rides Backwards.' A Blu-ray disc offers the full album (with bonus track Photograph' featuring Natalie Merchant) mixed in Dolby Atmos, plus a high-resolution master of the album, music videos, and the original 1992 EPK. Also included is Live At The 40 Watt Club 11/19/92 - a live set performed in R.E.M.'s hometown of Athens, GA.

AQUA BLUE CLEAR SWIRL VINYL
Enter the wonderful world of the amazing TROPICAL FUCK STORM! Submersive Behaviour is our favorite Australian art-punk combo's take on the tried and true "covers record" concept. Over the course of 36 minutes, TFS puts their deranged spin on classics by Jimi Hendrix, Middle Aged in the Middle East in the Middle Ages, Men Men Menstration, Compliments to the Chef, and The Stooges. Guest starring their old kangaroo mates and collaborators Dan Kelly, the Bard of Beenleigh and Aaron Cupples, the Earl of East Gippsland on octopus like strings-man-ship, falsetto and apocalyptic vibes.

Enter The Decagon assembles friends of the label - near and far - for further excursions into the abyss of industrial, folk, jazz and ambient music.

From Copenhagen hails Kristi Brud (Bride of Christ) extending us with a shimmering violin contemplation initially made for the short art film piece "The Abduction of Europa", absorbing a modal ambiance of harmonics rooted in central European renaissance. Recorded in Svalöv in rural Skåne comes a hillbilly folk jazz piece constructed by Joel and Ivar on equal parts violin, flute, upright bass and percussion, recorded somewhere in the misty era of of 2012-2015. Then, an interlude follows, reconstructed from the very early live sets of the label's own Inre Kretsen Grupp, laden with tuned metallic percussions and synthesized bow sounds. Following up, the idiosyncratic local talent Fai Ling offers a piece of Basinski/Hassel-esque horn repetitions in full deterioration. Concluding the A-side of the compilation is the band that never was - the only released material of Prins Emanuel and Golden Ivy's Börringe Kloster project - encapsulating their minimal maximal approach of low quality sound samples turned in to a wall of sound of rhythm of sorts.

The B-side picks up on different musings in the form of ambient cadence and carefully sculpted soundscapes signed Phillipp Otterbach, who gives us an unraveling journey into kalimba-hampered harmonies carried through a bed of industrial, synthesized sounds. Moonilena follows up with an eerie yet beautiful minimal composition of radio disturbances and repetitive, ear catching melodies.
Breaking the barrier of stillness, local producer and Catholic chant music fiend Digge Shim performs a rhytmical, tongue-in-cheek number that pulls widely from both the hymnal traditions of medieval Europe as well as the zonked out ambient trance sounds you'd meet in a mid nineties Goa chill-out room.
Near the tip of the decagon, we find the Cypriot producer, singer and lyricist Spivak presenting us with a feeling of the-familiar-but-never-heard in the form of an ambient pop breakbeat number with carefully crafted choirs oscillating on top - hauntingly beautiful and equally danceable.
Ending in the best of styles, well-mannered umarel and purveyor of drum-smitten metallic sounds shows us what Moisture is really about - the mental image of finding your true self dancing in purgatory in a never-released Kenneth Anger film set, encumbered with red lights and occult paraphernalia.

• To celebrate Kent’s 40th birthday (admittedly a month late, due to pressing times), we are releasing our first ever box set of singles. This is due to getting access to the Loma vaults and finding some previously unheard soul gems to augment the best of the soul dance tracks from the esteemed imprint.

• Starting with THE discovery of the soulful ‘20s we present LA soul group the Marvellos, whose ‘It’s Your Love That I Need’ – written by the great Willie Hutch – is a Motownesque dancer whose arrangements and melodies are so stunning we also issued the backing track as its instrumental B-side.

• The Invincibles were another fabulous Los Angeles outfit whose four Loma releases were ballads but two great dance tracks, the sublime ‘Heartstrings’ and the manic ‘Got A Thing Goin’’ showed they could really turn it up when needed.

• Ben Aiken’s ‘Satisfied’ is a stone classic Northern Soul dancer - finding the more subtle ‘If You Should See Her’ and ‘That’s All You Gotta Do’ in the vaults makes the Philly singer the best represented artist of the set.

• New York-based Carl Hall is another singer with a released classic - ‘Mean It Baby’ and a great unissued tape vault find – ‘Like I Told You’. The pair sit well together on their new 45 pressing.

• The Enchanters cut several tracks after they left Garnett Mimms; ‘Just A Little Longer’ is a great Drifters-sounding number which we’ve coupled with the beautiful ‘I’ll Find A Way’ by Bobby Reed.

• ‘See The Silver Moon’ by west coast girl group the Apollas would have wowed them at Wigan. The poptastic number has the perfect stomping dance beat, beloved of the Casino’s patrons. Alas it was not heard until 2012 when researcher and co-compiler Alec Palao unearthed the master tape. We paired it with Larry Laster’s terrific ‘Go For Yourself’ which shares the backing track of fellow Northern monsters ‘Lighten Up Baby’ and ‘Somebody Somewhere (Needs You)’, more than holding its own.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

• ‘Paper Man’ is a major discovery for lovers of Sam Dees’ music and the Atlanta/Birmingham soul sound of the 70s. Written and recorded in that productive period, it has only just been found in the vault of Moonsong / Clintone recordings. Sam Dees worked with Alpaca Phase III for the Atlantic release ‘I Like To Party’ in 1974 and a Clintone release the following year. He co-wrote this ballad with Wes Lewis and Ken Walker from the group (he also composed ‘Someone To Run To’ with Wes Lewis and group member Berry Collins).

• Dees is the vocalist on ‘False Alarms’, one of several brilliant Dees compositions first released on his “Second To None” Kent CD in 1995. With “so tied up” being such an important lyric in this song, it is conceivable that it is a forerunner of ‘So Tied Up’ which featured on his Atlantic LP at this time.

Kinzua are Lucas Brell and Marvin Uhde (known as Qnete to some), great live band. “None Of The Above” is their debut album. Powerfully introvert and extrovert at the same time. Songs of glory, decay, rebuilding and hope that found Offen at the right moment. Many moons later the album withstood the test of time and can be enjoyed in its whole glory.

Written & produced in different spheres by Lucas Brell & Marvin Uhde at CSG Studios, Leipzig and M90 Remise, Berlin.

Voice on „The Dancing Snake“ by Giulia Fournier-Mercadante (Gigi FM) with words from „Les Fleurs de Mal“ by Charles Beaudelaire

Mastered by VRIL
Artwork by Himbeer Pepe
Sleeve by Percy

• Gil Scott-Heron was twenty-one years old when he was signed to Flying Dutchman by Bob Thiele to make an album of his poetry. The resultant “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” was recorded before a small live audience and, released in 1970, sat perfectly in a world where the Last Poets had just tasted Top 10 success with their debut LP. “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” opened with a spoken word version of ‘The Revolution Will Not Be Televised’ and also featured poems and musical pieces like ‘Omen’, ‘Brother’, ‘Plastic Pattern People’, ‘Paint It Black’ and ‘Everyday’ that reflected on the black community and its condition within America at this time.

• The starkest of these sharp observational pieces from Scott-Heron was ‘Whitey On The Moon’, which recounts the US Government spending billions on landing a rocket on the moon at a time when, “a rat done bit my sister, Nell”.

• Like its follow-up – “Pieces Of A Man” – “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” is a classic album and we are delighted to serve it up again on vinyl in a gatefold sleeve with the original liner notes.

• With current “Big Talk” of going back to the moon, whilst injustice still prevails for many black people in America, “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” still conveys a message that resonates today.

When it comes to deep and jackin' Techno with a touch of funk, Jackmate aka Michel Baumann was in a league of his own. As a producer, working in the house-techno spectrum he was able to keep a level of high quality, always trying to push himself and never afraid to try out new ideas. You never new what he would do next and that was probably why so many of us kept following him, checking out a new release and playing his music.

One of the many projects he was working on before he sadly passed away was collecting and preparing a compilation of Jackmate music from his vast archives. The idea was to present tunes from back in the day, or as Michel called them 'Jackmate classics'.

The compilation would also include some of Michel's favourites which he reworked and of course new music, there was always a new Jackmate track waiting to be finished. This vinyl sampler contains all new Jackmate music plus a Jackmate rework of the Soulphiction classic "Masai Mara"